From: "Donnilee" Date: Mon, 7 Jun 2004 03:20:26 -0400 Subject: Cachot Desirer by Donnilee & XRae Source: direct TITLE: CACHOT D=C9SIRER AUTHOR: DONNILEE and XRAE E-MAIL: donnilee@snet.net and XRae1013@webtv.net CATEGORY: MSR - CASEFILE KEYWORDS: BDSM, SCULLY DOM, UST, RST RATING: EXTREME NC-17 SPOILERS: Fight the Future, Millennium, Triangle, Irresistible, Emily, and Pusher. SUMMARY: Mulder and Scully go undercover in a bizarre murder case at the request of their old friend, Senator Matheson, and nothing is as it seems. WARNING: Here there be monsters! No, actually, there aren't, but there is BDSM and D/s themes, along with FemDom themes and male penetration. If this is not your cup of tea, go elsewhere. If it is, read on and enjoy. You have been warned. DISCLAIMER: We're blaming our perverted muses and that's all there is to it! I don't want to hear any more about it! Oh, you mean the show? The Characters? All characters and references to the X-Files belong to Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen Productions and Fox Broadcasting. DONNILEE'S DEDICATION: I'd like to dedicate this fic to my co-author, XRae, who was only the second person who took me up on my offer to write together. She literally inspired me with her off the cuff rants and ideas about this fic, sparking a gigantic fire under my muse when she presented the idea. I doff my hat to you, darling. It's been a BLAST. THANKS: To our extraordinary beta reader, Fran Hartman, for fixing all our boo-boos and never complaining about it! Of course, from here, we can't see her rolling her eyes as she reads! Love you, babe. You 'da bomb! XXXXXXXXXX PROLOGUE (NC-17) CACHOT D=C9SIRER FRIDAY EVENING I couldn't see a thing. The black silk blindfold hid my sight completely, not allowing a speck of light to come through. My wrists and ankles were cuffed to the 'bench' that I was tied to. I was helpless, at her mercy. At the moment, she wasn't showing me any. XXXXXXXXXXX NC-17 PORTION XXXXXXXXXXXXXX Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. I moaned in desperation as I felt the fat phallus slide inside me, punishing my prostate and spreading my sensitive membranes wide. Fingers slithered up my torso and pinched one tight nipple. I cried out, "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh," an unintelligible sound of agony and ecstasy. How much more could I take? I felt my cock throb, each beat of my heart pounding through it, so hard for so long that it ached. It was unbearable, yet all I could think was, "More, more, more!" Her nails scraped the peak of my nipple again, making my cock surge painfully in its constraints. She had my genitals bound in a cock and ball harness and hanging through the hole in the bench, a willing captive. I heard my sweet tormentor speak in a sultry voice, "Don't come yet, Pet. Not yet." "Oh Please, Mistress!" I begged. God. Oh God! So close. So fucking close. "Not yet!" the sharp command came back to me. "Ahhhhhhhh, Haaaaaaaaaaaa," I cried out, tears rolling down my face, wetting my blindfold. Too much! It's too much! More, more, MORE! A few more thrusts and I felt the invader spring to life, vibrating on high. A rugged thumping began in my bowels and spread through my abdomen. I screamed and then I felt a cool hand between my legs. The cock and ball harness was quickly released as the vibrating thrusts continued. Denied circulation so long, the pain was incredible as blood rushed into my cock. I'd never felt this swollen. I shouted in agony at the sensation and struggled, "Oh God, Misss, God, I can't hold it!" "Go on now. Tell me how good it feels. Come for me, Pet," the sultry voice floated into my ears. The large phallus plunged into me to the hilt, hitting at just the right angle. I screamed. The mere sound of that voice giving permission made my tightly drawn up balls contract and spasm. I felt cum surge up my shaft, stiffening me to the point of pain. Fat globs of it sprayed out of me in stinging ropes as the large phallus jarred my ass harshly, abusing my hot spot. Surge after surge made my shaft jerk and twitch as it hung free and sprayed my cum all over the rubber mat on the floor. Then I felt a hand reach around my hip and lightly grasp my spurting shaft and stroke it gently. It was too much and I remembered my instruction to tell her how it felt. "Oh Jesus, Oh Fuck, YES! Oh, so good, Mistress! Oh GOD! My cock--Oh God, it burns! Oh YES, SO GOOD, SO GOOD TO ME, I LOVE YOU, MISTRESS!" XXXXXXXXXXXXX END NC-17 PORTION XXXXXXXXXXXXXX I heard a sultry chuckle and the vibrations stopped abruptly. I was sweating and dizzy as I felt the shaft slowly exit my rectum. Cool hands massaged my ass cheeks, helping my muscles to contract and close up. "We're done now, Pet," my Mistress advised me. Not Mulder, but Pet. This is how she addressed me now when we were in play mode. I panted gently as she removed my restraints and then she helped me stand on wobbly legs. "Mistress?" "Yes?" "What about you?" I ask, knowing she didn't orgasm. "I'm fine for now." "O.K." "We're done now, take off your blindfold." I tore off my blindfold and gasped as I saw that we had an audience I knew nothing about. He stood there in black leather shorts with suspenders and combat boots, an outfit I never could have imagined on him just a few short weeks ago. Yet seeing him now, it seemed to perfectly suit him. His grey chest hair covered a surprisingly well-toned chest, his pectoral muscles twitching as he languidly stroked at his penis, which was pulled out through the fly. This too, seemed perfectly natural to me. He smiled at me and said, "I'm glad you came back, Fox. I wondered if you would." I swallowed and nodded, my mouth dry as a bone. "Sir," I acknowledged him. "Gray," he corrected me. Ah, he had a play name. I nodded and then turned to look at my Mistress. She smiled knowingly at me, handing me a towel to wrap around my hips and said, "Hit the shower. I'll meet you in the lobby." I nodded without saying anything and walked naked out into the hall, turned left, and headed to the open showers, knowing my clothes would be waiting for me in a locker. My Mistress prepared for everything and always took care of me. I felt my legs losing their rubbery quality as I continued to walk. My cock was flaccid now, but ached with a dull throb from its recent adventure. I went through the frosted glass door and made my way to the showers. I sighed as the hot water blasted me in the chest. I soaped thoroughly, careful to wash everything the way my Mistress taught me. I felt the sweat and fluids sluice off of me and smiled again. If anyone had told me a few weeks ago that I would be in this place, happy to be submissive to my new Mistress, I would have laughed them out of D.C. I felt renewed, reborn. I was a new man, more content than I'd ever been, and I owed it all to one person. My Mistress, the woman taken right from my deepest, darkest fantasies and given life, she who owned me, who loved me, who wielded the strap-on with such finesse! I nearly giggled. I felt giddy, truly *happy*, and who could blame me? I had it all. Minutes later I was dressed and in the lobby. She got up from the padded bench where she was sitting and came toward me. She stopped with her duffel bag slung over her shoulder. She was dressed in civilian clothes now too, jeans and a blue blouse and sneakers. Her make-up was gone, her hair brushed into a tidy coif. Her blood red lips were the only remaining clue of her transformation. She said, "Your place or mine?" "Yours is closer," I said. "You win," she replied and I followed her out the door. I win? Either way, how could I possibly lose? I shook my head in wonder. How did I get to this place? I began remembering how it all started. It had taken a mere three weeks for my entire life to be turned upside down. It started with an innocent request to help out on a murder case. I should have known. Nothing is simple when politics are involved, or sociopaths, for that matter. XXXXXXXXXX PART 1 (NC-17) CACHOT D=C9SIRER WASHINGTON, D.C. THREE WEEKS EARLIER I was a Senator in the real world. Here though, I was just a sexual creature with no other purpose than to find fulfillment for myself, but first, for my mistress. I watched as my tormentor stood placidly looking at me, a captive audience. I was hanging on the bondage board, my ankles snug in the inverted cuffs, and legs spread. My wrists were similarly bound, the 45-degree angle of the board preventing the headache that came with direct inversion. I panted slightly around the ball gag in my mouth, anticipating the pleasure to come. Strands of rope surrounded the top of my ball sack and wove their way half way up my painfully erect penis. My tormentor stepped forward and squatted down, giving me a clearer view of black leather hugging slim hips. I moaned as I smelled arousal, my own and my tormentor's. I peered up, trying to see the face, wondering why I hadn't been blindfolded as usual. Finally, my tormentor spoke. "I'm going to ask you again, JJ. Are you going to change your vote?" I closed my eyes, sighing, wishing we could just let the subject drop, wishing we wouldn't mix business with pleasure. JJ was my play name. Jack was my real name. This world was separate from my career and I didn't want to mix the two. I couldn't speak because of the ball gag. I wanted to explain that it wasn't that simple. I was beholden to people. I shook my head in the negative. "I fffannnt," I tried to say around the gag. Drool trickled from the corners of my mouth for my efforts. "I'm sorry, JJ, that's simply not acceptable." "Caaaaaake, ouuuuuuu!" I was trying to ask that the ball gag be taken out. I wanted to discuss this, but not while I was in play mode. My submissive headspace was vanishing and it made me angry. I saw my tormentor's head shake slightly. "It's a shame, really," said the tired voice. "I liked you." The look in the eye of my tormentor changed then. I saw the gleam as my tormentor drew closer and I felt true fear for the first time in a long time. XXXXXXXXXX NC-17 PORTION XXXXXXXXXX "WWWWWWWWWHHHHHHHHHHHhh!" I cried as a hot, wet mouth was lowered to my penis. I didn't want this now! I groaned as the mouth latched onto only the tip of my erection and sucked hard. From nowhere, another rope appeared. It was soft parachute cord and was slip knotted around my neck next to the dog collar I was wearing. I fought my arousal along with the fear. The fear was, to my eternal shame, heightening my arousal. The mouth sunk a little lower, till lips met the first wrapping of rope, which was about half way down my erect penis. I felt hard suction and one hand began to squeeze my aching ball sack, bloated and throbbing with cum held back by the rope choking its exit. I groaned loudly again, and felt the rope around my neck tighten as it was pulled gently. I gagged, feeling my wind further restricted, and the suction got harder. Without warning, I felt a yank on the carefully applied knots and the rope unwound from my balls and penis and cascaded to the floor. The sudden rush of blood into my balls and penis was painful and I cried out, "AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhh!" Cum swirled in my clenching balls and rocketed up my shaft. The hand released the rope around my neck. Suddenly cellophane was being wrapped around my nose and mouth. I screamed, "NNNNNNNNNNHHHHHHHHHHHHH," but it continued. I ejaculated hard as my wind was completely shut off. My cum sprayed down my chest, hitting me in the chin and I felt another surge of pleasure and began ejaculating again. XXXXXXXXXX END NC-17 PORTION XXXXXXXXXX Another sheet of cellophane was wrapped around my head and secured in the back. I shook my head, crying and trying to scream, but the cellophane blocked the sound and all that came out was pathetic grunting. My tormentor squatted down again and then fell onto all fours, the beloved face an inch from mine. White spots were flashing through my vision as I sucked desperately, hoping to break the cellophane. I realized it wasn't going to be released. I noticed the gloves my tormentor was wearing. Black leather. No fingerprints. *Oh God, No!* I screamed in my head, feeling my lungs burn and my ears ring. I dimly heard the voice say, "You should have changed your vote." *Patty, I'm so sorry,* I thought, and then everything went black. XXXXXXXXXX I started at the rapid pounding on the door. It was opening before I could reply. "Come in," I said, sliding the ledger into the top desk drawer. Marguerite, my wife, or Margot as I sometimes called her, burst into the room, her normally pale face ashen. "Jean, ... Oh my God, come quickly." "Margot, what is it?" I asked calmly. My wife did not panic easily and she was clearly panicked. "Come, Senator Thompson ..." "What about him?" I asked as I followed her tall, lithe form out the door. I trotted to keep up with her, feeling fear squeeze my chest. "Oh Jean ... Oh God," she muttered. "Margot!" I shouted. She stopped and turned, frozen in place, her face crumpling into a mask of distress. "Jean, he's dead." "Dead? What are you talking about?" "Come quickly. Maureen is beside herself." We both broke into a trot and headed for Maureen's room. Marguerite stepped to the side of the door and watched me as I burst through the open doorway and came to a halt, an audible gasp coming from my lips. I rushed to the Senator, pressing two fingers to his throat, even though it was clear the Senator was not breathing. I ripped the cellophane from his mouth. Maureen was huddled against the wall, hugging her knees and sobbing. I barked, "Maureen, why didn't you get him down?" Marguerite entered the room as Maureen wailed, "I was afraid to touch him! Oh God, Jean Luc!" I motioned for Marguerite. "Margot, help me get him down." She walked stiffly toward us, watching me undo his wrist shackles. I gripped him under the arms and Marguerite reached up to undo the ankle cuffs. He slid clumsily down the board as I backed up and laid him on the floor. Trying to remain calm, I checked his pulse again, looked at his blue lips. I turned to Marguerite. "Call Washington. We need to know how to handle this." She nodded and briskly retreated from the room. I began CPR, knowing it would do no good. After ten minutes, I gave up. Kneeling next to the Senator, sweating and panting, I reached up and closed his eyes gently. I turned to Maureen, still huddling and rocking, her back to the wall. I barked at her, asking, "How did this happen, Maureen?" She flinched and peered at me over the arms crossed around her knees and said through her tears, "I don't know. I left to use the bathroom. I swear I was only gone for about four or five minutes." I knew my face turned incredulous. "You left him suffocating for four or five minutes?" I nearly exploded, my voice booming off the walls. She flinched again and shook her head quickly. "No! I didn't put the cellophane on. He just had a ball gag when I left. He wasn't into that ... suffocation. Just the gag. That's all we ever used!" I took a deep breath and let my chin hang to my chest, trying to rein in my temper. Shouting at Maureen was not going to fix this. As owner of the Cachot Desirer, I had responsibilities and losing my cool was not in the cards for me. "This is bad, Maureen, very bad," I said gently. Judging by the mask of fear that formed on her face, my voice must have sounded more menacing for its softness. "I know. I'm sorry, Jean Luc. I never should have left him. Who would do something like this? OH GOD, I'M SO SORRY!" she wailed. I sighed and moved over to her, plopping down on the floor next to her. She launched into my arms and I awkwardly wrapped my big arms around her skinny back, patting it gently, noting absently that her nipples were hard and poking out of the leather torso harness she was wearing. Must be the fear. I set her back gently. "Go get cleaned up, Maureen. I'm sealing the room until I hear from Washington. No one goes in or out, including you, got it?" She nodded dumbly and crawled to her knees and then stood. She glanced at Senator Thompson and then walked out slowly. Poor thing. I sighed deeply and stood, retrieving the huge key ring that hung from my belt. I flipped through the numbered keys until I found Room 2A and slipped into the hallway, turning and locking the door securely. From the wall rack, I took a DO NOT DISTURB sign and hung it on the knob. No one would dare enter, and just in case, it would remain locked. I worried for a moment that my prints would be on the Senator's skin, but both Maureen and Marguerite had seen me administer CPR. I headed back to the office to find Marguerite, and find out what the instructions were from our Capitol Hill contact. This was bad. This could ruin my club. I fought for so many years just to become established and this could ruin everything. My clientele was exclusive and sensitive. Word of this could cause a mass exodus. I would leave informing Jack's wife to our man in Washington. That would suck. She definitely didn't know of his sexual appetites, much less that they were satisfied here on a weekly basis. I sent a little prayer to the ceiling that I came out of this one unscathed. Death was definitely bad for business. XXXXXXXXXX PART 2 (PG-13) OFFICE OF SENATOR MATHESON CAPITAL HILL WASHINGTON, D.C. I might express complete skepticism of the concept of Fate, but there are instances when it's truly difficult not to notice how some events, no matter how inconsequential they may seem at the time, later play a part in your life as though they were destined to do so. He called me Agent Scully now, and no one, not even my partner, was aware that I had known Senator Matheson long before he did. Who could know all those years ago when I first came face to face with Senator Matheson that our seemingly random meeting would come to hold so much weight over me now? Was it just cosmic coincidence? Normally, I would answer, yes. Sitting here in the Senator's office, listening as he recounted the details of the case now in question, however, it looked a whole lot more like I'm the punch line of a very bad cosmic joke. I do credit myself with having a least a modicum of good humor, and maybe I'd be chuckling right along with Fate over this latest little curve it's thrown me, if it weren't for the simple fact that, even from a chair away, I heard my partner's sharp intake of breath at the words 'fetish club'. "Ah, excuse me, Sir. Did I hear you correctly? Did you say this is our case? We're not just consulting?" Mulder asked, sitting up a little straighter in his seat. Senator Matheson just smiled at him like some over indulgent father. "Yes, Fox." Another one that can call him Fox, I thought. Mulder glanced at me, an uncomfortable grimace twitching at the corners of his mouth. He cleared his throat nervously before turning back to Matheson. "I guess I'm just a little curious as to why you'd think of me for something like this, Sir. From everything you've told us so far, I don't see any indication of the paranormal overtones that usually warrant the involvement of the X-Files." Typical Mulder, already assuming we'd been summoned here because of *him*. If he noticed the fleeting look that the Senator gave in my direction, he showed no outward sign of it. "Fox, you're going to have to trust me on this and just accept that I do indeed have my reasons for requesting your help ... and leave it at that. I simply can not disclose anything further than that." "But--" "I have discussed this matter in depth with your Assistant Director, and he assured me that I could count on your complete cooperation, as well as your utmost discretion." I watched as Mulder's eyes narrowed. Apparently, pulling rank on him wasn't something the Senator usually did, and it threw him a little. Still, like an eager schoolboy, he nodded emphatically, "Of course you can, Sir." I almost rolled my eyes at the sight of Mulder's obvious hero worship of this man. Then again, I tended to forget that Senator Matheson championed Mulder and the X-Files long before the division carried its 78% solve-rate. Matheson just beamed at him. "I knew I could, Fox. I have absolute faith in both your and Agent Scully's investigative abilities, which were, of course, my primary motivation for choosing you for the case." His eyes briefly slid over to me again. Fortunately, Mulder was too busy puffing with pride over the Senator's well-worded diversion of the issue to even notice he'd been placated. Matheson was a smooth operator. I had to give him that. "Now, let's get down to the basics, shall we?" he continued, in his strangely serene voice. "'The Cachot Desirer' is a very low profile, highly exclusive club. Now, I'm sure I don't need to stress how important confidentiality is with this case, Fox. You will more than likely come face to face with a few very high-ups during the course of your investigation, but the knowledge of their involvement must never make it into any type of documented report." Oh, this was too much. Was he suggesting a cover-up? "Excuse me, Senator," I interrupted. "Am I to understand that you'd like us to *lie* on our report?" Mulder turned to me sharply. "Scully, the Senator would never ..." he began. "No, no, no, Fox, that's quite all right," the Senator replied, cutting him off. Mulder turned back to him, apology written all over his face. Matheson didn't look the least bit ruffled. "Agent Scully has every right to question my statement." He shifted his attention to me, his gaze penetrating. "All that I am asking is that you and Fox remain as discreet as possible. Surely, you can understand the need for secrecy and discretion. After all, those in certain high-profile positions must consider their reputations." The son of a bitch was actually *smiling* at me. "As must we all, wouldn't you agree?" he added. Was it just me, or was that a thinly veiled threat? He was apparently forgetting this went two ways. "Yes, of course, Senator. I wouldn't want to personally be responsible for damaging *anyone's* political career." I said it innocently enough, but judging by the twitch of his jaw, I'd say he got my point. Cool as a cucumber, he replied, "Naturally, I assumed you'd feel this way, which is why I've taken the liberty of insuring that all progress made in this investigation be reported directly to me and no one else. I will, in turn, inform Assistant Director Skinner of any pertinent information." This finally seemed to be enough to startle Mulder. "We're to report directly to you, Sir?" Matheson returned Mulder's questioning look evenly. "And *no one* else, Fox. I can't stress enough to you the importance of this." Mulder just nodded mutely, but I could tell this entire set-up had his 'Spooky-Sense' tingling. 'Going to tamper with the information, Senator?' I wondered. He would have complete control over what was reported to the Bureau. Until we knew more, I wasn't sure if that was a good thing, or a bad thing. "Now," the Senator began again, "you both need to be very careful. Due to the delicate nature of this case, you can't count on any type of conventional back up. Once you are accepted as members into the club, it is *imperative* that you appear completely at ease within its environment. These individuals can spot police and media from a mile away. You must leave them with absolutely no room to doubt that you are exactly what you appear to be. This is a very tight knit community and very difficult to penetrate." Mulder shifted uncomfortably again. "With all due respect, Sir, how can Agent Scully and I have any hope of getting close to these people?" "Mmmm." He moved to take two beige colored envelopes from his desk and scooted them across to Mulder. "These are letters of recommendation, and I must ask that they remain sealed to protect the identities of the members aiding us in your infiltration the club." "That's it?" Mulder asked, sounding a little surprised. "We just hand these over and they'll take us in, no questions asked?" He shook his head. "Seems a little too easy." "Not if you had any idea of the names on those letters," the Senator replied gravely. "But, in any case, yes, getting in *is* the easy part. Just give these envelopes to personally and directly to Jean Luc Dantonet, the owner of the club, and no one else. You'll get in. The hard part is in convincing them that you belong there." Mulder gave me another nervous glance. "So I take it we're undercover for this?" "Absolutely. You can't go in there waving a badge around. The blue wall of silence has nothing on these people. Your covers are simple enough: George and Katherine Hale, both working in legislative branches of government in upper level positions of reasonable influence. You can request private rooms to ensure your, um, level of privacy and safety. Before you can make your way into one of those rooms, you will still need to look the part. So I'll be issuing you both credit cards to use for any necessary purchases in that regard." Mulder was actually blushing and I couldn't help but wonder if he was trying as hard not to picture me in a leather teddy as I was trying not to picture him in a g-string. "You we're ... you want us to go shopping for, um ... *gear*, Sir?" he asked, his voice squeaking on the word 'gear'. "Fox, I know this is a difficult assignment, to say the very least, but this murder has been given top priority by the State Department." "And that's your only interest in it, Sir?" I couldn't help but ask, if only just to see him squirm a little. "No, Agent Scully. My interest is personal," he replied smoothly. "Really?" I countered. "The victim, Senator Jack Thompson, was a dear friend of mine. He was set to cast the deciding vote on a very sticky piece of legislation. If someone has decided to target those in office, any number of people could be at risk." "Including you," I replied. It was a statement. He waved his hand as if to dismiss the notion. "Perhaps yes, but for myself, I feel a deep sense of responsibility to Senator Thompson and his family. I would like to see his murderer caught without his name being smeared across the tabloids. He was a good man, with an honorable record. It's bad enough his wife and children know *where* he was killed. They don't need that information going public. Senator Thompson had ties to the highest levels in the State Department. This has made them very nervous, which is no doubt the reason for them giving me carte blanche to obtain the investigators and spend whatever I deem necessary to ensure a smooth infiltration of the club. As I said, Senator Thompson was a honorable man." "Just one with questionable tastes," I said carefully. And who cheated on his wife, I added silently. Very honorable, that. "Questionable to some, Agent Scully. It's not my place, or yours, to judge," he replied with candor. "Sir, you can count on our complete dedication to this investigation," Mulder hurriedly added, thinking, I'm sure, that I'd managed to offend the Senator's delicate sensibilities. "Of that, I'm certain." He gave us both a charming smile. "So, if there are no further questions, I suggest you get started as soon as possible. It may be prudent for you to do some research, Fox. Educate yourself before approaching the other members. I'm sure I don't need to remind you that this needs to progress quickly, so you are very pressed for time. I'd like to see you enter the club by the beginning of the week, so that gives you an extremely limited duration in which to prepare. Use it wisely." Mulder completely missed that he didn't suggest *I* do any research. His inflated ego was probably, once again, assuming he would have to deal with the nasty business of all things sexual. With that, the senator stood, moving around his desk to hand Mulder another small white envelope. "You'll find everything you'll need in here." Mulder and I stood, looking at each other a little awkwardly, before making our way to the door. "Good luck, Agents," Matheson called after us. "Thank you, Sir," Mulder replied, opening the door for me. "We'll be in touch." I glanced behind me as I walked through. Senator Matheson was watching me carefully. Our eyes caught. He nodded just slightly before I turned away. Bastard. XXXXXXXXXX PART 3 (PG-13) SOMEWHERE ON THE BELTWAY Silence reigned in the car for about five minutes. Finally she asked, "Where are we going, Mulder?" "Wanna go to Jackie's Diner, see what's in that envelope and, um, talk about this?" "Yeah," was her abrupt answer. More silence. Nothing was said for the rest of the drive, until I dipped off the beltway into Falls Church and headed for the diner. Five more minutes passed before I finally managed to pull into the small, dim parking lot. "Come on, Scully," I said, moving quickly to exit the car. "Geez, Mulder. You just can't wait to start cracking the whip, can you?" I stopped abruptly, my mouth dropping. She casually stepped out of the car, not once glancing back at me as she made her way to the entrance. Her tone had been light. She had to be kidding... No, no, no. Please God, I thought, let her be kidding. XXXXXXXXXX JACKIE'S DINER FALL'S CHURCH, VA We entered and chose the booth farthest in the back. The waitress came and the tone of our talk was set immediately when we both politely refused her offer of the "daily pie special" and ordered only coffee. Yeah, that's what I needed, plain, black coffee. I hadn't drank in ages but right at that moment, for some reason, I really felt like I needed to sober up. And quick. *I will not think of Scully in leather. I will not think of Scully in leather,* I chanted to myself. We sat in heavy silence until after our mugs were brought to us. Scully made monumental work out of adding cream to her cup. I sipped mine straight, letting it burn what felt like a coat of nervousness off my tongue, truly hoping maybe it would be enough to shock me into opening my mouth and really talking to her about what we were about to do. What we were about to do. Holy shit. *I will not think of Scully in leather. I will not think of Scully in leather. I will not--* "So what's in the other envelope?" she asked. I grinned a little at her and took the envelope out of my coat pocket, my hands shaking as I ripped it open. Inside were two credit cards with our false names on them, George and Katherine Hale. I pushed one across the table at her. She picked it up, looked at it and slipped it into her jacket pocket. "So," she began. "So, this should be interesting," I countered. She smirked. "What are you thinking?" Well, I thought, there's that leather thing... "That we're gonna need some ground rules," I said immediately. "Like what?" I sighed. How could I say this to her? We'd never even remotely approached the topic of sex, let alone had a detailed discussion about it. This was going to be awkward, to say the least. "Look, Scully, we've been in undercover situations before. I mean, I know we're professionals ..." I trailed off, suddenly and completely at a loss for words. "And your point?" she asked calmly. I blew out a breath past pursed lips. "We've never talked about this sort of thing." "What, sex?" she asked, and I was a little startled by her bluntness. "Yeah. I mean, I know this sort of ... deviation isn't your kind of thing." "You don't say?" she mocked. It wasn't helping any that this seemed to be amusing her. "Please don't be sarcastic, Scully," I said seriously. "This is hard enough for me as it is." "How hard, Mulder?" she asked, a definite tease in her voice. My eyes snapped up to meet hers and saw the full- blown smile on her face. I lost my composure and started laughing, the nervousness finally breaking out in mirth. She laughed with me and then got it under control. "I'm sorry, I couldn't resist," she said. "This is just a bit much to contend with all at once." I smiled at her again and then got serious. "He said we could ask for a private room. That's good." "Meaning?" "Meaning, we don't have to actually *do* anything. We just have to, uhhh, you know?" "Look the part," she clarified. "Right." "I can do that." "Not very well, I hope," I said ruefully. I watched as her brows knit together. "Mulder, what?" I bit the bullet and decided that I needed to be completely honest with her. "Look, Scully, there's no way I'm going to go into that club, and see you dressed up in, whatever, and not respond to it." I looked at the table and felt heat rising in my face, hoping like hell she wasn't going to ask me to elaborate. It was bad enough that I couldn't help picturing her in a little black leather bra and thong; she didn't need to know how much the image excited me. I felt my groin tingle and shifted uneasily in my chair. Her eyes got slightly bigger and a look I couldn't decipher crossed her face. Her lips tipped up at the corners like she was trying hard to suppress a smile. "I won't hold it against you, Mulder." 'Too bad,' I thought. I looked at her, hearing an odd quality to her voice. I figured it must be her trying *not* to appear offended or overwhelmed by what we were about to do. "Look, I think ... maybe I should take the lead in this." "And that means what, exactly?" she asked. "Just that, you know, when we go in there, I should do most of the talking ... at first anyway. I'm not implying ..." I struggled for the right words. "That I'm not as sexually educated as you are?" she asked in a steady tone. I stared at her. "That's not what I mean. I just think that, I mean, I'm sure that this environment will make you uncomfortable, and I just," I stuttered. "What?" "I'd like to make it easier on you, I guess." "I see." Something wasn't right here. I could hear it in her voice. "What are your thoughts, Scully?" I asked, figuring maybe I could get a clue about what was going on with her. "Well, I think we should play it by ear. I agree that the private room is a good thing. We can just pretend we've done something," she said, her words trailing off. "Right, we just need to be sweaty when we come out." I felt the heat rise to my cheeks again, the implications sounding explicit even to me. She snickered. "This could very well give me ample opportunity to work on my self defense training." I grinned back. "Well, then, at least one of us is sure to look molested. You *were* absent the day they concentrated on subduing your assailant with blows to the groin, right?" "Actually, if I remember correctly, I excelled at that in particular," she said as she smirked. We fell silent for a long moment, the tension rising again. Finally, she looked at me seriously and said quietly, "I'm thinking we should be prepared." "For what, exactly?" I queried, nervous. "We're supposed to be husband and wife, right? That means they'll expect us to behave a certain way." "Meaning?" I swallowed hard. She looked away, obviously uncomfortable. "Oh, come on, Mulder. Do I really need to spell it out? Be more, I don't know, *familiar* physically, touch each other, that kind of thing." "Touch each other?" I repeated, my voice embarrassingly breathy. I began to harden and shifted uncomfortably. She licked her lips. My eyes were drawn to them like a magnet. She smiled a shaky smile. "Yeah, I mean, we might need to, I don't know, behave in a more intimate fashion in front of them to be convincing." I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. "Could you do that, Mulder?" she asked, not looking at me. "Yeah," I said, my voice dropping alarmingly low without any effort as I pictured me bending her over my arm and plunging my tongue into her mouth. My dick hardened fully and I squeezed my legs together, trying to relieve the pressure that was building in my groin. Jesus, I could be such a pig. Her eyes met mine briefly before she blinked rapidly and slid her gaze to the coffee cup, picking it up and drinking with a nervous motion. "We just need to remain professional and objective." She cleared her throat. "I mean, it would be easy to," she started to say. "Misinterpret something," I finished for her. She nodded. "Yeah, and I think we just need to understand that," she said, trying again. "It doesn't mean anything," I said, hearing the sadness in my voice as I finished her sentence for her again. She peered at me closely, obviously detecting it, too. "Mulder, I think it just means we need to be careful." "Of what?" "I'm not sure what I'm saying," she admitted finally after a small silence. I cleared my throat. "Look, Scully. We're both adults here. We can get through this without it turning into a big thing," I started. "What? A sexual harassment case?" she asked, giving me 'the brow'. It was her turn to finish my sentences, apparently. "Yeah, something like that." I looked down, unable to meet her eyes. "Look, if we get confused about something, we just need to talk about it, all right? Fair enough?" Who was she kidding? Scully and I didn't 'talk' about our feelings. Ever. I met her eyes carefully. "Scully, I'm already confused. More than likely, things are just gonna get worse from here." "Mulder, we can't refuse this case." "I wasn't suggesting we should even consider that." "Then, what? We can't be *this* concerned with offending each other. We have a job to do, a case to solve, and I think we're losing sight of what we need to focus on here." She was right, of course. Damn it, we *were* professionals! So why couldn't I seem to see past the fact that I was going to have to try like hell not to want to take advantage of the situation? I mean, fuck. Did this mean I could grab her, kiss her, press her body against mine, all under the guise of 'putting on a show'? No, no, no. I couldn't let myself think too closely about any of that, not without embarrassing myself. As it was, I had to hope we wouldn't be getting up from the booth anytime soon, or she was sure to know *exactly* the direction my thoughts were going. "O.K., we're really going to have to be careful. On a variety of levels, granted," I said, my mind still buzzing. "Right." She cleared her throat. "Mulder, I think the least of our concerns will be our personal issues with this assignment. Have you considered the possibility that our suspects could very easily be persons with some major clout? They could bury us if we blow this." I shook my head, agreeing. "It does sound like there are some real power players involved in this club." "Yeah, and Matheson wasn't subtle about hinting that political careers are on the line. I'm assuming Jack Thompson's wife didn't know of his fetishes. And you can sure as hell bet there are a number of other members with more than infidelity motivating them to keep their involvement secret." "That would be a given." I took a deep breath. "This sort of thing could blow Capital Hill wide open. I mean, Christ, our president can't even get a blowjob without ruining his career. Can you imagine what information like this would do if it got out?" Scully laughed a little and then sighed, shaking her head. "Yeah, Bill Clinton reformed Welfare, reduced the deficit and did some other good things, but all he'll be remembered for is getting a hummer in the Oval Office." It was my turn to laugh at her rejoinder. The word *hummer* was not a word I would have ever imagined coming out of the mouth of the proper, buttoned down, Special Agent, Dr. Dana Scully. "You keep surprising me, Scully," I blurted out. "Why? Because I have a sense of humor? Or because I can say the word sex without cringing?" she asked. I could hear the hurt in her voice. Did it bother her that I thought she was ... what *did* I think she was? Na=EFve? Inhibited? Sexually repressed? Honestly, I had no clue. Thinking too much about sex and Scully at the same time could get dangerous. "No, I didn't mean that at all," I said, backpedaling. "Then what did you mean?" "I don't know. I guess it's just that we've never talked about sex in any capacity, and so I don't know what to expect." "You thought I'd be offended?" "I don't know, Scully," I replied, frustrated, and not wanting to insult her. She nodded, looking away again. We took turns sipping our lukewarm coffee, the air between us growing thicker by the second. After a few moments, it got to be too much. "Now what?" I suddenly blurted out. I heard her take a deep breath. "Well, Mulder. First things first. I think we need to go shopping," she said, neatly changing the subject. My face flushed. "Yeah, that's as good a place to start as any, I guess," I said quietly, and looked at her from under my lashes. "Do you know where to go?" she asked gently. "Uhhhh, I don't really know where to go for what we need *specifically*. I, ummm, I've bought a couple of those videos that aren't really mine downtown." Oh for Christ's sake! Why the fuck did I tell her that? "There are a few shops in the area that sell, stuff. I remember seeing one ... I think it was called 'The Crucible.' Something like that," I muttered, my face on fire by the time I was finished. "Mulder, stop babbling and don't worry." She smiled at me indulgently. "Why don't we just go to 'The Kitten's Toy Room'. They specialize in what we'll need." "What?" I whispered, stunned that she would even know where these places were located, let alone the name of a specific one that would specialize in 'what we'll need.' "Uh," she looked embarrassed now, looking at her lap. "Scully?" "What?" she asked too quickly and squared her shoulders, looking at me and daring me to make a juvenile or teasing comment. "You've been to the 'The Kitten's Toy Room'?" I asked gently. She looked down, away from me. "Mulder," she said, her voice holding a warning. I nodded slowly. "I'm sorry, Scully. That's really none of my business." Oh God. She stood. "The Kitten's Toy Room, then?" "Let's ride, partner," I said, realizing the innuendo in that comment when I earned the eyebrow from Scully as she turned and walked away from the booth. I stood, throwing a five on the table. "I will not think of Scully in leather," I muttered. XXXXXXXXXX PART 4 (R) THE KITTEN'S TOY ROOM WASHINGTON, D.C. I parked at the curb and looked at Scully after shutting off the engine. "What?" she asked, wondering what my problem was now, no doubt. "I'm just wondering if we should go home and change first." "Change into what?" I looked at my lap. "I don't know, more casual clothes. We look like FBI agents, Scully." "I don't think it matters, Mulder. The people here are very discreet." I looked up at her, raising an eyebrow. "And you know this, how?" She smirked slightly and it was her turn to look away. "Professional people need discretion, Mulder," was her cryptic answer. I sighed, thinking that if I had to fight for every scrap of information this was going to be tough. We really needed to get over this nervousness that was plaguing us both. Especially on an assignment like this, it was going to be critical that the lines of communication stay open. For Scully and me, this was no easy task even under the most normal of circumstances. She turned at the sound of my sigh. "What is it that you want to know, Mulder?" she asked, sounding resigned. "Look, I don't mean to pry, Scully. Sarcasm and innuendo come naturally to me. It's what I do when I'm nervous," I admitted softly. She gave me a closed-lipped smile. I wasn't sure if she was amused, or if she felt sorry for me. Lord knows, I didn't want her pity, despite the fact that I probably deserved it, clueless bastard that I am. "Why are you nervous?" she asked carefully. I chuckled now, a self-deprecating sound. "Why? Why do you think? I'm about to go into a sex shop with my partner. I missed this section at Quantico, so proper protocol for this event is beyond me at this point. I mean, believe it or not, I do like to keep my cool, Scully. I don't like the idea of you watching me regress back to fits of awkward adolescent laughter at the first sight of a dildo." "Why would you feel awkward?" she sounded genuinely puzzled, though the muscle in her cheek twitched. I swallowed. All right, if I was going to expect her to be forthcoming, then I guess I would have to be too. Let's see how she liked it. Maybe I could shock her out of these stupid questions. She obviously wasn't getting the message. "Scully, if you think I'm going to go in there and not get excited, think again, all right?" Her mouth opened into an 'O', and then she closed it again, definitely amused this time. "Just looking at the toys is going to do it for you, Mulder? You're easily amused," she said, a tease in her voice. "Well, there is the added element of your presence along with the toys, Scully." "Ahhh," she said, smiling widely now. "Again, I won't hold it against you." She chuckled shyly. "Honestly, Mulder, what do think? That I'm made of stone?" I looked at her. "I don't know." "Well, I'm not. What makes you think I'm not picturing you in a leather G-string?" Shocked, I started laughing. "Not a pretty sight," I mumbled. She closed her eyes. "Oh God, you're right." I felt myself visibly deflate. "Wait, wait. I was picturing Frohike," she giggled in response. "What a coincidence, so was I." Now we both started laughing. It broke some of the tension that was hovering in the air between us. "We're going to have to talk, Scully. You know, if things get too weird or whatever. We may get to know more about each other than we ever meant to find out." "Quit threatening me, Mulder," she replied with a wry grin. She turned to look out the window at the storefront. "Look, we're adults," she reminded me again. "We can do this. We'll pick out outfits that don't push the envelope too much but give the impression that we are used to the lifestyle. They're not all obscene, you know?" 'And how would you know, Scully?' I wanted to ask. I decided keeping my mouth shut this time was the better part of valor. "I know. What about toys?" "We'll get some tamer ones." "Such as?" I asked. She bit her lip. "I don't know." "Ummm, O.K. Let me think, here. Recalling the film brilliance that was 'Beat Me In St. Louis', we could probably get by with a fuzzy mitten, a couple of paddles, maybe a dog collar and leash," I suggested. "And outfits," she added. It was a statement. I shifted in the seat. "Yeah," I croaked out. "What do *you* suggest?" she asked, a lure in her voice. "Based on your plethora of viewing experience," she added. "Leather, and lots of it," I blurted out, retreating into familiar teasing innuendo. Her eyes widened and I held her gaze. "For you or me?" "Both of us." We stared at each other for a long moment. I cleared my throat. "They probably have some leather pants I could pick up." "Let's see what they have. We can make it up as we go along. If we need to step outside to talk, we can. There's no rule against that." "O.K., let's get this over with. Just think, we have an unlimited expense account. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity to buy all the toys you always wanted but never could afford," I quipped. She opened her door and stepped out on the sidewalk, slamming the door behind her. I followed and locked the car and joined her on the sidewalk. I was still wondering how much she knew about what we were going to see. She'd alluded to the fact that she'd been in there before. Did she know what all that stuff was for? Did it titillate her or disgust her? Was she nervous? I honestly couldn't tell. She had such a poker face when she wanted to. She smiled up at me. "Let's go cost the Senator some money." She grinned and surprised me when she stepped out ahead of me, no hesitation in her manner at all. I reached around her and held the door, ushering her inside with my hand on the small of her back. The place was silent as a mausoleum when we entered. We passed by the check out counter on the way in, a long Formica-topped affair with a cash register and various tabletop displays showcasing a variety of nipple clamps and smaller items. Under the counter was a glass case, much like a jewelry store, that held all sorts of jewelry and accessories. A tall man with a face like Big Bird sat on a stool behind the counter, his dyed blonde hair spiked into a hundred different directions. His skinny arms were a mass of writhing tattoos, so dense you couldn't even tell what they were without putting your nose up to his arm, something I had no intention of doing. "'Ello," he greeted us with a faint British accent. I started slightly when he raised his head to look at me. He looked like he'd fallen down a set of stairs carrying a tackle box. The man had more metal in his face than a bait & tackle shop. Small gold and silver rings protruded from just about every feature; four eyebrow rings, two nose rings, and four more of them graced his lips. He smiled and I could see a tongue stub winking inside his mouth. His ears were festooned with holes from the lobes to the top of the shell, dense with jewelry. If this guy ever had to go through a metal detector, he was fucked. Heaven forbid he came within 10 feet of a magnet. I smiled at him. "Hello," I said as nonchalantly as possible, which of course, ended up sounding nervous and strained. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Scully shake her head with amusement. "If you need 'elp, just give a shout," Big Bird grinned at Scully. Territorially, I took her elbow. "We will." "We're going to browse a bit first," she threw back over her shoulder as I dragged her further into the store. "Splendid," he replied with a knowing chuckle. I turned back to glare at him, then noticed the magazine he was holding. I glanced at the title, 'Dominance and Discipline', and then thought better of it. We wondered down several aisles of toys of every shape and variety. Dildos, vibrators, ben-wa balls, blindfolds, whips, paddles, riding crops, ankle and wrist cuffs, leather hoods, ball gags. Jesus Christ. I felt ridiculously like some southern belle, ready to swoon at a moment's notice. What did we get ourselves into? We reached what I thought was the back of the store and I turned to double back. I started looking around, wondering where to start, when Scully said, "Let's go in here first." I spun and followed her finger. She was pointing to a door on the rear wall. A small sign said, 'Clothing & Furniture'. I nodded, my mouth dry as a bone, and stepped up, holding the door for her. She walked through slowly and I followed. We were silent as we walked toward the racks. There were signs hanging from the ceiling indicating Women's and Men's sections. "Well, Mulder, why don't I hit the ladies' section and you hit the men's section?" "Awww, you don't want to help me pick out my leather pants?" I teased, trying to lighten the mood. She smiled softly. "We'll check out each other's purchases before we make any final decisions. How's that?" "I've got a better idea. I'll pick out yours and you pick out mine." I waggled my eyebrows. She pressed her lips together and shook her head. "You're incorrigible. I shudder to think what you'd pick out for me." I grinned, totally unrepentant, and glad she was running along with my innuendo. "Aww, come on, Scully. It'll be fun." With a perfectly straight face she said. "Aren't you even a little nervous about what I'd pick out for you?" That stopped me cold. I stared at her. Frankly, no, the idea hadn't even crossed my mind. I was thinking only of see through tops with the nipples cut out and crotchless panties. Now the indefinable look she gave me made me pause and stare at her harder. "Should I be?" I asked softly. She flashed me another smile. "You never know. I might just surprise you." I grinned now. "I can't wait. And Scully," I said, getting her attention again. "Mmm, hmmm?" "You've surprised me already." She shook her head. "It's gonna be a rough ride, then." I laughed softly and then blew air out of pursed lips. I couldn't believe how casual she was being about this. "You like it rough, Scully?" I asked, immediately wishing I could take the words back. Her eyebrow shot up into her hairline as she regarded me with undisguised amusement. "You're pushing it, Mulder." "Right," I said and saluted her. "I'll just be over there," I said quietly, and pointed to men's section. "Picking out something tastefully smutty." "I think that's best." XXXXXXXXXX I walked away, once again thinking, 'I will not think of Scully in leather ... oh fuck it, I can't help it.' I let the picture bloom in my mind; Scully in a black leather bra and a black leather thong. Jesus. It would look so good against her milky white skin. Oh, no. I felt my dick begin to tingle and harden. "Just get your clothes, Mulder," I muttered, ashamed of myself. She *had* said she wouldn't hold it against me, but somehow I couldn't help but think she'd kick my ass if she knew. A half hour later, I was staring at a rack, of arm bands, that is, and wondering if I should get one. Maybe it'd help me look tougher. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I felt two small hands land on my waist. I gasped and spun around. "Jesus, Scully!" She laughed, delighted that she had been able to sneak up on me. "Jumpy, partner?" she quipped. What the hell? Now she was teasing me? How did I lose control of this situation so fast? Here I was thinking I was going to have to hold her hand in here and she was subtly taking the lead in everything we did. She frowned at the leather pants I had slung over my arm. "What? You don't like them?" I asked, pouting. "You'll look fantastic in them, but you should get some shorts too." "What do you mean?" "Leather shorts. The long pants can get really hot and sticky." I felt my heart rate involuntarily increase as I pictured Scully and I hot and sticky. Damn, this was NOT going to be easy. I felt myself flush, hardening to half erect and beginning to tent my slacks. I turned from her slightly, trying to shield myself from her view. "Yeah, good point." She held up a pair. "I took the liberty of picking these out while you were wandering." I looked at the black leather shorts with the lace up fly she was holding up. I reached out and extracted the tag from the back and asked, trying to sound casual, "How'd you know my size?" She grinned. "I've done your laundry before, Mulder," she reminded me. "And you checked the tags?" "Of course," she said like it was obvious. "Why?" I asked. "So if I ever wanted to buy you clothes, I'd know what size. Why do you think?" "Why would you buy me clothes?" "Mulder, you're hopeless. I usually remember *your* birthday, don't I? Christmas also comes once a year, if I'm not mistaken." I shrugged sheepishly. "What'd you get?" I asked, changing the subject. Frankly, I wasn't expecting anything daring. She negligently waved her hand into the cart she'd found somewhere, and I set my own stuff in the front of it so I could pull up her purchases. I felt my breath leave me in a sudden rush as I saw the black thong panties I'd envisioned less than an hour ago. It went with a black leather bustier that laced up from the navel to mid-bra-cup and would show plenty of Scully skin through the laces. Long, black leather calfskin gloves that would reach her elbows were included along with black fishnet stockings and a garter belt. A pair of red leather shorts and a red leather bra was also in the bottom of the cart. I swallowed noisily, feeling myself harden to fully erect as I easily pictured her in these clothes. Slowly, I lifted my head to meet her eyes. She looked placid, waiting for my response. Oh God. I needed to resign myself to the fact that I was going to be doomed to walk around trying to hide a hard- on nearly 24 hours a day during all of this. If she wasn't in front of me, I was going to be picturing her in these outfits. "Christ, Scully, you're going to look so sexy and hot in these," I said in a shaky whisper, slightly alarmed at how raspy my voice was when I finally spoke. She chuckled nervously, and avoided my comment. "I see you got a leather vest too." "Yeah," I muttered. "It'll go with the shorts." She looked at me shyly, her face turned downward. "It'll show off your chest. I'm sure it'll look, ummm, nice on you," she said softly, surprising me. All right, confession time, here. It shouldn't shock anyone that I've spent years fantasizing about my partner between the sheets. However ... Jesus, it never once occurred to me that she had ever looked at me in a sexual way. Seriously, it never crossed my mind that she might have looked at *my* body and liked what she saw. She was giving herself away in a very subtle way, and I had no clue as to how to respond to it. I *could've* said something stupid here and teased her about looking at my chest, but the words thankfully clogged in my throat and didn't want to come out. Anyway, I didn't want to tease anymore. I pulled my sport jacket closed and buttoned the front of it. Despite the fact that I was sweating like a pig, it was the only way I could think of to try and hide my erection. She winked at me. "On to the toys, Mulder," she said, her eyes twinkling. I wasn't fooling her one bit. Sometimes it really sucked to be a guy. "Fuck me," I muttered. I heard a delicate snort from her as she walked away, pushing the small cart. We gathered up the clothes and brought them back into the front room. When Big Bird saw us, he said, "You wanna to put that up 'ere while you gander some more?" "Uh, yeah, that would be good." We laid our clothes on the counter. He smiled again at Scully as he moved our stuff down away from the register so that other customers wouldn't have to reach over it if they came to the check out. Without taking his eyes off Scully, he thrust a big shopping bag with handles into my arms. "'Ere, use this, mate." I staggered back a slight step from the impact. "We don't have carts up here," he said politely to her. "Cool, thanks," I mumbled darkly and wandered into the aisles. XXXXXXXXXX Two things were at war inside me. One was the sadistic little thrill I was getting from shocking Mulder. He was so endearing and adorable when he was nervous, which wasn't very often. I obviously wasn't playing the meek, confused role that he had cast for me, and judging from his behavior so far, he had no idea what to make of it. He'd clearly expected me to be offended and it was throwing him off his game. Even his innuendo was weak. I had an unfair advantage, I realized, but it still couldn't keep me from enjoying his reactions. I bit my tongue after every sly reference or comment but I just couldn't help myself. It takes quite a bit to actually rattle my partner, so I was taking an enormous amount of perverse pleasure out of watching his mouth drop. I had to be careful, though. Mulder is anything but stupid, and if I came across as *too* confident, he was going to figure out just how 'informed' I was. I could just see the headlines: "FBI Agent Drops Dead from Shock in D.C. Sex Shop!" It bothered me, but I knew Mulder thought that I was a prude. If I really examined it for very long, I'd never really given him cause to think otherwise. In fact, I'd say I'd gone out of my way to reinforce this belief for him, maybe in some unconscious effort on my part to keep him from the truth. It just never occurred to me that I was doing such a good job appearing adequately offended by his pornography and immune to his innuendo that he'd start to see me as sexually repressed. It made perfect, if not somewhat sad, sense that I felt as though I had to sacrifice being perceived in a sexual manner in order to gain Mulder's respect. I tried telling myself that it was necessary, and for a long while, I think I succeeded in convincing myself that it was a fair trade. It ended up causing an unforeseen undercurrent between us, though. We were uncomfortable around each other in regard to all things sexual. Mulder hid his discomfort behind adolescent innuendo, while I refused to acknowledge it, and shut down completely anytime we came remotely close to addressing the tension between us. Looking back, I suppose I did the only logical thing I could in order to enable myself to work side by side with Mulder. I didn't want to accept it, but my partner was the only man that even remotely interested me. I just told myself continuously that he wasn't interested in me *that way* and that I wasn't his type. I put all things sexual on the back burner; I disconnected from that side of myself. Not because I wasn't, to put it delicately, horny. I was at my sexual peak, for crying out loud. I just decided to concentrate on my career, or at least that's what I tried to tell myself. For the most part, it *did* work. Other than the illicit indulgence of the occasional masturbatory fantasy that always starred my partner, I gave up that part of myself. I applauded my resolve and marveled at my will power, but there's only so long a kettle can stay on slow burn before the water eventually comes to a boil. I'd been suppressing my needs for a ridiculous amount of time, and I had the very uneasy suspicion that they were about to reassert themselves with a vengeance. Despite everything, just being around so much paraphernalia was affecting me. My appetite was being whetted for the first time in a long time and I was feeling the urges of the past screaming to break free. One side of me wanted to grab hold of what I referred to as 'the Old Dana'. The other side was screaming loudly that my career could be on the line. I mean, it was just my luck that the only person I could imagine myself exercising these desires with was Mulder. Not only was he my partner, he was also such a 'dominant' presence in my life. Past experience told me that there was no way I could be submissive in a sexual relationship. My drive for control was too strong. I trusted Mulder enough to be submissive, but my logic told me that the first sign of dominance from him would either unlock my own, or melt me into a puddle of goo. I wondered how well he would take to being dominated. My mind was getting ahead of me here and already wandering into dangerous territory. Breaking the unspoken rule and plunging into a physical relationship with my partner could spell certain disaster for us in more ways than one. My God, the look of pure lust that crossed his face when he spied the leather thong and stockings in the cart was...well, inspiring, to say the least. I knew, without a doubt, that he was picturing me in them. If the truth be told, I couldn't wait to see just what his reaction would be to me in full regalia. This was just the underpinning. There were more things I wanted to add for effect. There were more things I wanted, period, but would we actually need any of it? We would be behind closed doors for most of this assignment or observing others. It was going to almost be like dressing up for Halloween. I sighed under my breath and followed him to where he was standing looking at a wall of whips and paddles. "Any preferences?" he asked, the leer on his face not quite reaching his eyes. I smiled uncomfortably at him. "No, I think I'll let you handle this part." "O.K., we have to have a duffle bag of toys, Scully, or they'll see us for frauds," he said, obviously embarrassed. "I know," I snapped, and watched as Mulder flinched. "Scully," he began, his voice soft. "I know this is making you uncomfortable. I don't mean to imply that you don't know about any of this." I had the overwhelming urge to tell him he was really far off base. I *was* uncomfortable, but not because I was offended. I was aroused! Everywhere I looked I saw something I wanted to use with him. It was suddenly too much to handle. I took a few steps away from him. I needed some space between us if I had any hope of getting through the next ten or so minutes. "How about this one?" I said in a light tone. I took a short, black riding crop off the peg on the wall and held it up to him. "It matches the outfits," he deadpanned, then smiled, accepting my evasion as a truce. "Of course, it's always best to accessorize in a complementing manner," I grinned back. He reached out and selected a fur mitt. "Fashion faux-pas though it may be, we gotta have this." He tossed it into the bag and turned back to me, his brows raised with an obvious challenge in his eye. I stepped around him. "I'll need this for when you step out of line," I said, grabbing a rubber-covered paddle. "Woof, woof," he smirked, taking a small dog collar that came with a silver link leash with a leather grip on the end, and throwing it into the bag. "Good choice, but I think you need a muzzle." I followed him as he selected a ball gag and a blindfold. He held them up, the corner of his mouth twitching. "Yeah, that'll do." We continued down the aisle in a much easier silence, when my eyes were captured suddenly by a strap-on of considerable size. I felt myself grow warm and moist imagining putting it on over the leather outfit I'd selected. Best not to go there, I chastised myself. I dragged my eyes away to find Mulder staring at me with an odd look on his face. A sudden spark of tension ignited between us. "I like it, too," he said softly after a moment. Oh my God. Oh. My. God. He cleared his throat, and turned from me, trying to hide his obvious state of arousal. He held the bag open and in front of himself as he turned back and said, "Did I miss anything?" The dare was evident. He wasn't sure why, but he knew the sight of the strap-on had affected me, and he was giving me the opportunity to admit it. Just agree, Dana, I told myself. Just put it in the bag. I couldn't. I looked away from him. "No, we probably have enough." "Are you sure?" I was startled by the gravelly quality of his voice and felt an internal shiver that I just barely suppressed from being visible. I licked my suddenly dry lips and heard a tiny gasp. I met his eyes again and found them locked on my mouth. Without permission from my brain, I licked my lips again, slowly, dropping my eyes. "We'd better get out of here," he whispered in a ragged voice and then whisked by me, headed for the counter. "Damn," I muttered under my breath. This was going to be hard. I honestly didn't know how long I could keep up this act. I was walking a very thin tight rope. One misstep and I could plunge off. I knew there would be no safety net waiting to catch me this time. If we were this affected by each other just shopping for toys, what was it going to be like in an atmosphere that reeked of pheromones and sexuality? Good lord, I was in trouble. XXXXXXXXXX JesusHChristonaCrutch! I worked hard at getting my breathing under control as I checked out our purchases, handing over the credit card that Senator Matheson had given me to Big Bird after he quoted some ridiculously high amount to me. I could feel Scully standing behind me. Scully. Scully, with her damned wet, licked lips! My hand shook as I signed the receipt, and because most of my blood flow had headed south, I started to sign my real name before I heard Scully clear her throat. Somehow, I managed to scrawl "George" over "Fox M-", and then practically threw the pen down as I grabbed our packages. I couldn't get out of there fast enough. I mumbled a thank you and turned on my heel heading for the door. I hadn't even glanced to see if she was following. I needed air and I needed it quick. I got to the sidewalk and sucked in a refreshing lungful of cool air, feeling my hard-on begin to deflate, but not nearly enough for my satisfaction. 'Hold it against me, Scully, please!' I thought. Literally. I unbuttoned my suit jacket and loosened my tie, ripping it off as I walked to the car, the bags in my left hand. I stuffed the tie into my suit jacket and then unbuttoned the top three buttons on my dress shirt. Christ, I felt like I was drowning. I grabbed my keys from my pocket and unlocked the car, throwing the bags in the back seat. I ripped off my jacket and tossed that in on top of them. Then, I got in and slammed the door. I turned the ignition and put the air conditioning on full blast. I sighed in relief, and closed my eyes. It took me a full two minutes to realize that Scully had not followed me out. What the fuck? I was about to get out and look for her, sure she was pissed that I had abandoned her in the store, when she emerged from the front door. She looked calm, cool and collected, damn her, and she was carrying another bag! I just couldn't look at her right now. Fuck, I was so embarrassed. I put my head back on the backrest and closed my eyes again, waiting to hear her open the door. She did and slid into the seat. I heard the seatbelt clicking into place and then her fumbling with the air vents to direct the blast away from her face. I swallowed noisily and croaked, "Sorry." "It's all right." "You bought something else?" I asked, unable to suppress my curiosity. "Yeah, don't worry about it. I'll show you later." "Afraid of what I'll do?" I asked, trying to sound facetious, but hearing it fall flat. She mumbled, "No, afraid of what I'll do." "Come again?" There was a pause and she said. "Just take me home, Mulder." "Aye, aye, Captain," I responded, sounding harsher than I meant to. I glanced at her and saw her scowl as I started the car. "Mulder," she began but then stopped. I sighed. "I'm sorry, Scully. I'm a little embarrassed. I didn't mean to snap at you." "It's all right." "Not really. I am sorry." I jumped involuntarily when I felt her hand land on my shirt sleeve and looked at her. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, Mulder, and for that, I'm sorry. I guess I'm just a little surprised." She looked away to stare out the window. "Surprised at what? That I got excited?" I asked, heat rising to my cheeks. "No, not that. I mean, hey, you did warn me." She was trying to put me at ease, but I still felt like a fucking idiot. "Scully, listen," I began. She turned to me again. "So was it just the toys, or, ummm, the 'added element of my presence'?" "Both," I nearly croaked. She nodded. "Damn, this is getting uncomfortable, huh?" She put her elbow on the windowsill and curled her hand under her chin. "A bit, yeah. I don't want it to be that way, Scully, but I can't help it." "I don't blame you, Mulder. It doesn't offend me." "It doesn't?" "No, why would it?" "It doesn't bother you that your partner became aroused just by watching you lick your lips?" I blurted out in disbelief, before realizing I'd just given away more than I meant to. Her eyes snapped back to meet mine and her mouth opened. Then closed again. "I didn't think I was your type," she said softly. I barked out a short huff of laughter that was laced heavily with incredulity. "Please don't play dumb with me, Scully." She looked truly puzzled and I realized that she really didn't know. She thought I was merely a man, and like most men, I was one big hormone when surrounded by anything sexual. It wasn't the truth. SHE was what made me insane. I'd watched so much porn that honestly, it didn't do a lot for me anymore. Closing my eyes and picturing Scully doing a lap dance on my cock ... now that was another story. I could explode from the image without even touching myself. "I'm not playing dumb!" she said loudly. "What are you talking about?" I stared at her a minute longer and finally decided to play it on the safe side of the ledger. "You're a beautiful woman, Scully. I've always thought you were beautiful and sexy." I looked at the seat. "Every time I looked at something in there, I could picture us ... using it." Her hand lifted and her fingers touched my chin, raising my face to hers and staring into my eyes. I didn't throw down the mask. I let my attraction for her show, my eyes having a mind of their own and traveling over her face, her plump lips and the fluttering of her pulse in her neck. Was she excited? I wondered. I felt arousal wash through me again and shivered visibly under her gaze. She dropped her hand and said, "Thank you. You better take me home now." "Yeah, yeah," I muttered, putting the car in gear, and pulling out onto the street, wondering just how tense this whole situation was going to get. One thing I knew. This was going to get much worse before it got better. XXXXXXXXXX PART FIVE (NC-17) DANA SCULLY'S APARTMENT THREE HOURS LATER I could only wonder if I'd left a trail of smoke behind me. By the time I'd bolted out of the car, flatly refusing Mulder's offer to begin our 'research' together over a pizza, my legs were so weak I could barely walk. The drive had taken a serious toll on me emotionally. I went from flattered to mortified in the space of a heartbeat. Each second that ticked by as we made our way to my apartment only seemed to add more fuel my sudden state of confusion. Had I just essentially asked Mulder if I turned him on? Had he really just answered, in no uncertain terms, that yes, I did? He thought I was beautiful? Sexy?! Even three hours later, I couldn't seem to wrap my brain around that. I felt my stomach take a fast dive, and flushed from head to toe. Technically, I thought, this downtime away from him was only prolonging my misery. Having the rest of the evening to agonize alone over the whole thing wasn't going to help my disposition any when I had to face him again tomorrow. Maybe I wanted to give myself some time to think, to plan, to panic within controlled parameters. After all, it's always best, if you intend to wig out, to do so in the privacy of your own home. OK, I was definitely wigging out. My hand shook as I brought the steaming cup of tea to my lips. No matter what way I chose to approach it, I was up the proverbial Shit Creek without a paddle. Or maybe, I'd be the one holding the paddle if I played my cards right. Oh no. Oh no, no, no. I slumped forward in my chair, my head hitting the kitchen table with a definite thud. The last thing I needed was to start confusing my purpose in all of this. Though I would've been hard pressed to admit it at the time, Matheson actually did the right thing by requesting we take the case. I didn't want to openly acknowledge his justification, because I knew if I did, at some point, our past would come into play, so to speak. Some things in life just seem to go together. Chocolate and peanut butter. Donny and Marie. Senators and sex scandals. There are risks to take, and ones not to. Actually, there are risks not to take even if you see them as water and your ass is on fire. I wasn't about to enlighten Mulder about Matheson's motives, despite the fact that being honest with him from the start would have been the smart thing to do. I was not nearly ready for that conversation. What would I say? Loss of my well-guarded reputation had a way of overshadowing any shred of common sense I may have had. What I should've realized was that keeping secrets often creates its own covert flux in any relationship. Mulder and I needed nothing else to burrow its way into our already complex bond. What happened today told me we had enough to contend with. This could blow that bond to smithereens in a heartbeat. There were some things I simply wasn't prepared to sacrifice for the sake of my job, or even solving a murder case. Our little shopping spree had unearthed some very dangerous territory, and by the time I'd managed to open my front door and dump my bags in the living room, panic over the entire situation really started to pump through me. Since then, I'd been going through the motions of trying to relax, but I had the sinking feeling no amount of chamomile tea, steady breathing, and self-talk was going to settle my nerves. How could I have been so stupid? Walking around in that place like I knew *exactly* what I was doing! Then, actually staying behind to buy more! With Mulder right outside! It was like something took over me. It was like I was somehow outside of myself, watching in horror as this woman flirted shamelessly with my partner and picked out leather bondage apparel with a keen eye for accuracy. How could he have not noticed my behavior? For God's sake, I practically climaxed at the sight of a strap- on! My eyes flickered over to the bags on the couch, and I felt warmth tingle through me. Oh God, I was in trouble. In a flash of insight, I knew at that moment what a recovering addict must feel when confronted with the presence of a drug almost within arm's reach. The mental compulsion was overwhelming. The packages I'd discarded so hastily just a short time ago suddenly beckoned to me with a lure so strong, my fingers actually itched to touch their contents. How was I going to get through this assignment? How was I going to respond to actually *wearing* the outfits? To the feel of them? The smell? The texture? I could handle this environment just fine. The problem was ... could Mulder? Did I really intend to *show* him what I'd bought? In the hopes of causing what, exactly? No. No! It wasn't who I was anymore! Was it? I'd managed to gain control in other areas of my life, I didn't *need* to exercise it sexually anymore. I was stronger now. I was older, wiser. I could recognize what drove me for what it was and move past it. Couldn't I? God, I was so confused. Beyond that, however, I felt completely unprepared for what I needed to do. I felt completely *out* of control, and I couldn't stand it! It wasn't just my own possible reactions that were scaring me. I could seize control again, but then what? What about Mulder? How would he react to me if I slipped up? How would he react to me even if I didn't? Could I do this and NOT take the reins? Which brought me right back to ... He thought I was beautiful!? He thought I was SEXY!? He was clueless! Utterly and thoroughly CLUELESS! I couldn't do this! I couldn't! I stood up in anger, and began to pace. Damn Matheson! Damn him! Right or not, I wished he were in front of me so I could punch him! He had to have known what this was going to do to me! All these personal issues could end up seriously damaging the investigation. Or seriously damaging my relationship with Mulder. Or both. He was willing to sacrifice my relationship with Mulder. I wasn't, damn it. What right did he have to put me in such a compromising position, anyway? Maybe my 'history' wasn't the asset to this case he thought it was. Maybe I was going to blow it big time. Damn it, how had I managed to suddenly end up at my couch, with the bag in my hand? I froze in place. All right, enough was enough. I just had to get it over with. Ignoring my feelings for so long had done too much damage already, and I wasn't just thinking of today's little display. I had to confront what was going on inside of me before it was too late. It's all about damage control, I told myself. If I could manage to get a grip, nothing that had happened so far was *too* out of the ordinary. My partner would simply realize I was a normal sexual creature with needs, which he probably suspected anyway. Yeah, right. Mulder had no idea. But maybe if I approached this case head-on tomorrow and behaved in my predictable 'Scully' manner, then he might just write today off as some weird hormonal thing and forget about it. I sat down on the couch, the bag in my lap, and sighed. The first step, as they often said, was to admit there's a problem. O.K., that was easy. I *knew* I had a problem. Now, *why* I was having that problem, that's where it got a little sticky. To figure that out, I had to acknowledge the fact that I was still very tempted by the past. It wasn't just about control or power. It was more than that. It had made me feel alive and at peace in ways I couldn't explain. I missed that. Needless to say, there wasn't a lot of peace in my life these days. There was nothing to balance the stress of the job. There were empty places inside of me, and deep down I knew why they were there. I knew what I needed yet refused to allow myself to have it. How sick was that? Nonetheless, wasn't my life fulfilling enough now on its own merit? Wasn't I satisfied with the choices I'd made? Yes. It was. I was. Maybe I was a little lonely, but I chose to live that way. I didn't *need* anyone. I didn't *want* anyone. I wasn't perfectly content with everything, no, but who is 'perfectly content' with their lives, anyway? It was really a small price to pay for the freedom I had within my own life. I hadn't jeopardized that balance for a very long time. It would've been stupid of me to do so now just because I was a little taken aback by my responses to the case. The truth was, I would never return to the lifestyle without a partner. So if I followed that natural progression of thought, I came to the logical conclusion that, although it still appealed to me, it wasn't something I was willing to get back into. Not alone. Yeah. Maybe I was just feeling nostalgic. It might have been nothing more than that. O.K., I felt better, I really did. I placed the bag beside me. I'd been taken off-guard. That was all. All I had to do was get the residual feelings out of my system and go into this with my eyes open. Preparation. *That* was the key to it. I had to *prepare* myself better. I began to relax for the first time since entering Matheson's office. I started to think that everything would be O.K. I'd overlooked one tiny little detail, though. I *wasn't* 'reentering' the lifestyle. I would merely be pretending to do so. Big difference. Either way, I wasn't going into it without a partner. I had one. This was one part of the equation that was about to blow my reasoning all to hell. Something, I've noticed, Mulder seemed to excel at. Mulder made most logic a moot point. XXXXXXXXXXXXX I sat in what felt like a semi-catatonic state for close to an hour, my mind carefully rationalizing. I'd almost convinced myself I'd made a big fuss over nothing when the sound of the phone ringing suddenly broke through my thoughts, making me jump. I picked up the receiver and hadn't yet managed to say a word, when Mulder's voice filled my ear. "Alright, I can't stand it, what did you buy?" "Well, hello to you too, Mulder." "I'm serious, Scully. You know what I'm like when I start obsessing. Tell me." I laughed out loud into the phone, already enjoying this call immensely. "I can't believe you," I said settling into the cushions on the couch. I swung my legs up, letting them rest on the bag in question. "Scully, come on. Don't ... just, tell me." It was a hoarse whisper by the time he finished, and I felt my smile fade instantly. It was a quality in his voice he rarely let me hear and with good reason. "Mulder," I breathed. "Tell me," he said, harsher. I closed my eyes tight against the excitement that washed over me. Stunned, I realized that I *wanted* to tell him. I really did. The rough sound of his voice had managed in just a few seconds to melt the resolve I'd spent the better part of an hour building. What the hell was wrong with me? I was torn. "I can't." It sounded meek, even to me, and I hated myself for being so afraid. "Was it a ... a ... Jesus, Scully." He cleared his throat roughly. Wait a second. I was starting to get the picture. He'd been "researching". The information *aroused* him! Had he come across something in particular? I felt my confidence flow back. "You've been a busy, busy bee this evening, haven't you partner?" I teased in a soft voice. "Been surfing the web, maybe?" "You're changing the subject," he said pointedly. "Am I?" I mocked slightly. "I'm not so sure." Parry. "You're sounding awfully cocky all of a sudden." Thrust. "Interesting choice of words there, Mulder, considering what's in the bag at my feet." A soft grunt met my ear. "Are you saying you bought what I think you did?" "I bought several items, Mulder," I replied coyly. The breath rushed out of him, my tone making him nervous. "We shouldn't be having this conversation," he said quickly. "I'm sorry. I had no right to ask, it's none of my business." I'm sure I surprised him when I laughed again. "I do own a few vibrators, Mulder. I know it's hard for you to grasp, but even I masturbate now and again." I heard an audible gulp, and couldn't help but wonder if he was fighting to keep the picture of me masturbating out of his head. On the other hand, maybe he was just processing the fact that I'd just admitted that I owned a *few* vibrators, not just one. Oh, Christ. I shivered involuntarily and muttered, "I can't believe I just told you that." His breath whistled through the receiver. "Jesus, thanks for that visual, Scully." I chuckled again. "Sorry." "No, I mean, really, *thanks* for that visual," he responded, a definite tremor in his voice. "Look, Mulder, even women have needs," I said quietly, and then I'm sure I heard the distinct sound of his jaw dropping. I often wondered if he even believed I *had* sexual needs, much less contemplated whether or not I owned a vibrator. I was fairly certain he NEVER entertained the idea that at some point, I would have had to BUY that vibrator or that he'd be in the general vicinity when it was purchased. "What?" I asked, when I finally realized he'd been silent way too long. "I know you have needs, Scully. I guess I never imagined us talking like this," he said softly. "It's hard," he said, cutting himself off, surely realizing the potential for a double meaning. "Well, you said we might learn more about each other than we were ever meant to. Looks like you were right." "You think I don't understand, don't you?" he blurted out suddenly. "You think I don't realize that you have needs, and that if you weren't out chasing Big Foot and Little Green Men with me, then maybe you'd be having normal relationships with normal men and getting those needs met." "What?" I asked, more than a little shocked. "How did you come to a conclusion like that just from the verification that I bought a vibrator?" "Jesus, Scully!" "What, are you offended by that?" "Well, no. No, of course I'm not," he stammered quickly. "You *wanted* to know, Mulder. Isn't that why you called?" I said, calling his earlier bluff. "Well, yeah. I mean, no! Fuck, Scully, I didn't think you were actually going to *tell* me!" "Ah. I see. You were expecting the standard indulgent silence followed by complete evasion of the question and the inevitable bemused 'Good night, Mulder'?" He chuckled nervously, obviously uncertain. "Yeah. Yes. That's *exactly* what I was expecting. I mean, you know, the standard Scully reply when I call you late at night." "You said we needed to talk more and be honest." "I know, but it's a shock we're actually trying to do it. Usually when I call, I at least attempt to pretend it isn't because I just need to hear your voice and I'm lonely." Silence. "Oh, Mulder," I replied softly. "Men have needs too, Scully," he said, almost shyly. "Well, at least I know that *this* man does, and I guess I'm a bastard for the fact that I've been letting you meet some of them for a while now without your consent or knowledge." "That doesn't make you a bastard, Mulder. It makes you human. Everyone gets lonely." "Do you?" he challenged. I was quiet for a moment, wondering how far we were going to take this conversation. I had no doubt whatsoever that I'd probably regret every word that had left my mouth so far, so what would a few more hurt? "Of course I do." "Scully," he whispered, his voice shaking. "Maybe I look forward to those calls," I confessed softly. "I'm sorry." "Why?" I heard him take a deep breath. "I'm sorry that's what you have to look forward to. I want more for you. You deserve more." "Mulder, I've never asked for more. I'm happy with my life," I said, hoping to convince him. Why did he feel so responsible for me? "You'd be so much better off with," he said, starting his old mantra. "Don't! Stop it right now. I didn't answer my phone to participate in a late night pity party. I am exactly where I want to be. If you choose to doubt yourself, there's not a whole lot I can do about that, but don't doubt me or the fact that I was given choices, and *this* is what I want." "You don't want more?" he asked in a small voice. "You've never wanted more from me?" "Mulder, what are you asking?" "I ..." He took a shaky breath. "I don't know what I'm asking. Jesus, Scully. I can't believe I called you this late and dumped this shit on you." "Mulder." "I'm sorry." He was backpedaling now. The conversation was starting to scare him, and he was panicking. I sighed. "It's ok, Mulder. Just listen, don't worry about it, O.K.? We should get some rest. We have a lot to do in the morning." "Yeah." "Try and get some sleep." "Right, that's likely." I chuckled in spite of myself. I sensed he wanted to ask something else but was afraid. "What is it, Mulder?" "I ... it ..." Uh-oh. This was something big. I clutched the phone tighter and braced myself. "Go ahead." "It doesn't bother you that I think about you when I ..." he trailed off in a rush. I could almost hear his heart thudding through the receiver. I took a deep breath, knowing I couldn't lie to him. I never could. Not when he asked me a direct question. I could've played coy and pretended I didn't understand what he was asking, but he took a huge risk and I owed him more than that. He was, essentially, asking my permission. "No," I breathed softly. "No, it doesn't bother me. I'm flattered, actually." "I'm glad," I heard him sigh on the other end of the phone. "Anything else I can answer?" I asked carefully. I knew exactly what I was setting myself up for, but his honesty had touched me deeply, and I didn't want him to feel alone out there on a limb. He was silent a moment and then said, "I have no right to ask." "Ask," I encouraged, my pulse pounding in my ears. "Do you ever ... I mean, when you're alone, do you ever think of ..." "Think of what?" Another beat and then he asked softly, "Me?" Then he blurted, "Do you ever think of me, Scully?" I felt all the air leave the room and my chest constrict. My carefully constructed walls were crumpling at an alarming rate and I felt the need to keep some of them in place, or I might start screaming and never stop. In spite of that, I'd allowed him to ask. He deserved the truth. "Yes," I admitted quietly. "All the time, Mulder." "Oh, God," he whispered. I smiled and hung up the handset in the cradle without saying goodbye. Then I was seized with a minor anxiety attack. I swallowed hard. Things were changing between us. Rapidly. I didn't know whether to be exhilarated or afraid. Things between us felt so different. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX I lay in bed, my mind swimming in thought. I was tired. The emotional roller coaster I'd been on all day was finally catching up to me. My brain wouldn't shut off, and my body was still so keyed up. Our phone conversation played over and over again in my head, and despite the echoing sound of warning bells in the distance, I allowed myself to really bask in the words he'd said to me. He wanted more for me? Why? He hadn't come right out and said it, but by asking me, did he mean that he *did* want more? Did he mean *he* wanted to give me more, or just that he felt guilty because he thought it was his fault I didn't have more? What exactly did 'more' mean, anyway? Did it mean what I thought it did? Oh, God. I felt warm all over and peeled the covers back to expose my bare skin to the cool air. I wondered what he was doing, and blushed furiously at the sudden visual that appeared vividly in my head. Worse yet, I could only hope that he was thinking about me while he did it. I felt my nipples grow tight. For the first time ever, I was sure that if he was touching himself, it was me he was thinking of. Me. God, what was happening between us? Why now, when there was so much outside influence to deal with. I couldn't let myself admit to my feelings for Mulder. It was too dangerous. Plus, doing it just as I was about to face something that left me sexually starving was foolish and irresponsible. I had to be stronger than that. I mean, God, what if it scared him? What if *I* scared him? However, what if it didn't? Oh God, what if he'd love that part of me? What if I'd finally found someone to share it with? Go with it, Dana, my body purred. I didn't *want* to do this, yet I knew I was powerless to stop myself. I needed it. I reached out for the bag lying at the foot of the bed. I had carried it into the bedroom with me. I told myself it was because I wanted to get a good, up close perusal in, but never once believed that was my real motivation. I wanted to touch *IT*. There was no use in trying to pretend otherwise. I pulled it out of the bag, fingers almost numb. My hand caressed the long, smooth surface, coming to rest at its end. It was perfect. Maybe a little large for someone that was new to the experience, but workable if I was patient. I wondered if he'd trust me enough. I shook my head hard against the thought, trying to dispel the image that it evoked. This was crazy. This was nuts. This was torture, pure and simple. I couldn't do this to myself. Jesus, I was already lost and it had been so God damn long since I'd had these feelings, and even longer since I'd acted on them. Yes, I fantasized about Mulder, but never in this context. It was too overpowering. Too consuming. This was a side of me I vowed he'd never know existed, even in my mind I had to keep them separate. Now, though, I was weak. Tame, generic fantasies weren't going to cut it. I wanted him, and here in the dark, I could admit just this once *how* I wanted him. Not just his body in my bed, I wanted to own his soul. Mulder was *ripe* for it, had been since I'd met him. His passion was matched only by his capacity for guilt. More than anything, he wanted to repent. To feel that he was ... not punished, but given what he deserved. Not in a religious context, but a moral one. He needed to feel like he'd paid some price for his imagined faults and wrong doings, paid back the relationship in some way. He needed it and he would worship the one to finally give him what he felt he deserved. A way to pay back. Oh, God. He would live it completely. He'd never be able to go half way, it wasn't who he was. He wouldn't just love the one who gave him such a long anticipated outlet, he would be *grateful* to her, utterly loyal and desperate to please. My perfect counterpart. He always had been. Why would this be any different? The thought made me tremble, made my thighs twitch and my skin burn. I let my fingers slide down and off the new toy. Carefully, I placed it to the side of the bed. I had no intension of using it on myself. I'd bought it with a specific purpose in mind, and just the thought alone was going to be more than enough. I didn't need penetration, anyway. All I wanted was *stimulation*, and I knew exactly what it would take. Blindly, I reached for the drawer in my bedside table and opened it. My breathing increased. When my questing fingers found what they were searching for, my breath turned ragged. I wasn't kidding when I told Mulder I owned a *few* vibrators. Four actually. This one was my favorite. An almost elegant slim line massager with a contoured head and a circle of nubs for perfect clitoral stimulation and very shallow insertion. XXXXXXXXXXXX NC-17 PORTION XXXXXXXXXXXXX My knees fell apart immediately, my body heavily anticipating the first electric jolt that shocked through it as I brought the tip to my responsive clit. My hips bucked forward at once and my other hand slid slowly to my breast. I touched one fingertip to the sensitized tip of my nipple then raked my nails across it. I felt wetness flood between my legs. God, I was already so hot, so wet. I found a nice, steady rhythm, not wanting to rush through it, and then, let my mind go. What would he do, what would he *really* do, if I confronted him with my theory? No, no wait. What would I *want* him to do? This once, I was going to let the fantasy come. I closed my eyes, images already blooming in my mind, unlikely scenarios that suddenly seemed very *plausible* to me in my heightened state. He would tell me I was the only person who truly knew him. That I was the only one that had ever understood what he needed. I'd hiss an agreement in his ear and praise him for his insight. Then, oh God, then I'd give it to him. Everything. All the things he desired and feared. A way to atone for his imagined sins, and so much more. Maybe I'd go easy on him at first. He would be almost... shy as he obeyed me. I would look him in the eyes, letting him see the love in my own for once and not hiding it. Not hiding anything. I would run my fingers lightly over the muscles of his shoulders and across his crisp chest hair. I would let him feel the reverence in my touch so he'd know that no matter what, he was safe. I'd keep him safe. He would worship me even as I took control of him. Smoothly racing along with the motion of my hand, my mind sped up, running with images of paddles and firm pink cheeks; his head tossing from side to side, the blindfold secure, the ball-gag constricting harsh, desperate moans; straining, red flesh trapped in soft but tight restraints. Oh, God. The sensations were so intense that I could barely stand it. My thrusting hips sped up, the buzzing movement against my clit throwing me into a steamy vortex of pleasure. Close. Close. Yeah. Please. I could feel the coil, the tightness that started in my thighs and radiated deep into my belly; like a rubber band being stretched farther and farther apart. Liquid heat blazed through me, the vibrations insistent and unforgiving against me. My other hand took hold of my jutting nipple and pinched hard. I exploded, coming in pulse after pulse of fierce, clutching spasms. XXXXXXXXXXX END NC-17 PORTION XXXXXXXXXXXX My body went limp. I sank deep into the softness of the mattress, feeling my limbs grow heavy and sated almost at once. At some point, I switched off the vibrator and let it slip from my grasp. My blood actually felt like it was humming on its own. God, it felt so good. Why did I deny myself this? The sweat on my body had started to cool and my breathing was under marginal control, when his face floated back behind my closed lids. Mulder. Mulder. Mulder. I wanted to show him how I used to be, what I was capable of before I allowed my own insecurities and fears to rule over my passions. I wanted him to feel cherished and loved more completely than he ever thought possible. Instinctively, I knew I could give that to him if he would allow it. I wanted to take him to places so deep down inside of pleasure, he'd wonder if he could breathe without me touching him. I did want more. I wanted him to see me as the woman I once was, the woman I could be again. For him. Oh my God, *for him*. I wanted him to know me. To *really* know me. Didn't I? XXXXXXXXXX PART 6 (NC-17) FOX MULDER'S APARTMENT 42 HEGAL PLACE ALEXANDRIA, VA TUESDAY EVENING Tuesday passed in a blur. I stayed at home and buried myself in research. Scully went into work and completed all the paperwork for Skinner that attested to the fact that were going out on 'special assignment' and would be undercover. The temporary separation was probably a good thing. My mind was still reeling from our phone conversation the night before, and I definitely needed some 'Scully-Free' time to get ready for the case. The only problem was, the more research I did, the more interested I became. No matter how hard I tried to read and view the material before me objectively, somehow I always ended up picturing us wearing every outfit I saw, using every toy I read about, and in various positions on every piece of furniture displayed. By the end of the day, I was feeling hot, bothered, confused, and horny. My head was filled with a mass of images, each one further stirring the already complex mix of emotions bubbling through my veins. Something in me resonated with the information I'd found. I just didn't understand what it meant. I'd refrained from digging through our purchases, but by the time evening came around, I couldn't resist the temptation any longer. I had to try it on. It was one thing to view my 'gear' with an analytical eye. It was something else entirely to actually wear it. I decided my best course of action would be to try and lessen the novelty of it all, just make sure it fit correctly and get the feel of it, so to speak. I had to appear comfortable in my attire, I told myself, and I needed to be confident that I wouldn't fumble and look stupid when the time came. Oh, Christ. *When the time came.* I closed my eyes against the sudden rush of adrenaline that coursed through me. Part of me was terrified, completely convinced that at some point I was going to make a serious fool out of myself. The other part couldn't wait to get an eyeful of Scully in that thong. I mean, logically I knew we were only going to be 'pretending'. But how was I supposed to keep reminding myself of that fact when my flesh and blood fantasy was standing right in front of me? If I wasn't careful, my own overly enthusiastic responses could easily blow our cover on this assignment. No one would buy that we did this all the time if I couldn't appear at ease and comfortable around Scully. Not to mention the fact that I was in no hurry to get my balls kicked if I couldn't control myself and ended up doing something stupid. O.K. Time to face a little reality. I stood in front of the full-length mirror that was hanging on the back of my bedroom door. I rarely looked at myself other than to make sure my face was clean, my tie was straight, and everything was tucked in appropriately, but I had to really view this. I had to see what I was going to present. I studied my body as I stood there in bare feet, wearing the black leather shorts and the matching vest. Despite being on the downhill side of forty, I was still in good shape. I had a little extra skin around the middle, but not bad. I still had pecs and stomach muscles. My biceps weren't big, but they weren't skinny either. I had the body of a swimmer and runner, not the body of a weight lifter. I wondered which Scully preferred, and chastised myself for hoping I'd come close to it. I turned and observed myself from the side, feeling foolish but compelled onward nonetheless. My ass filled out the leather shorts okay, I guessed. I wasn't sagging yet, so that was a good sign. Exactly when it happened, I couldn't be sure, but as I further perused my body, I caught sight suddenly of the look in my own eyes and was stunned. I faced front again, almost transfixed. Everything narrowed to encompass only my reflection. For just a moment, I was shocked by how natural this outfit felt and looked on me. I slid my hands up my chest, growing steadily more entranced at the sight in the mirror. It was like looking at a part of myself I'd never seen before. My fingers interlaced behind my head and that's when I noticed it: Something was missing. My eyes raked my image from head to toe, stopping to linger on my neck. I realized immediately what I wanted and went to the bed and upended the shopping bag. Out fell the black leather dog collar I'd bought. It had silver studs on it and a small loop on one side for a leash. I'd purchased it thinking of Scully, but now ... My hands trembled as I picked it up and walked back to the mirror, holding it up to my neck. I swallowed hard and fastened it on. It felt funny there, but I took a deep breath and really looked at myself again. It did complete the outfit, though I couldn't have said why that was so. Christ, I thought, it didn't *mean* anything that I liked the collar. Maybe I could just go back and get a matching one with no loop for a leash and wear that one if I was so worried about what Scully might read into it. It wasn't like the submissive *had* to have a collar and leash anyway, right? It wasn't like I was forgetting our roles in all of this. I mean, despite Scully's show of bravado, and I was sure that was what it was, I knew she was going to be intimidated in this place. Hell, I probably was going to be too. However, I knew she needed me to take the control. I was prepared to do that. Wasn't I? Fuck, I *had* to be. She was really going to depend on me in there, and I couldn't let her down. I'd always sensed that Scully was uncomfortable with her sexuality. Oh, I've never thought she was as frigid as her Ice Queen moniker suggested, not by a long shot. I'd seen her passion and I knew it simmered under the surface. I tried not to do it very often, but I could imagine her being very competent in bed and directing a man to give her what she needed. Yet regardless of this, I didn't sense that she would be as adventuresome I would be. Or, as adventuresome as I'd *like* to be. My sexual tastes were pretty uninhibited, and what I lacked in experience, I more than made up for with willingness. I just had never found the type of sexual partner that I could express my more subversive tastes to. My motto had always been, 'Try everything once, and the fun things twice.' I just hadn't had much opportunity to put that into practice. I *wanted* to, but I was getting older now, and as time passed by, the likelihood of ever exploring anything too extreme seemed to drop right along with my love handles. This case was igniting that need in me again. I'd always felt an ache inside of me, and wanted so much to find a way to alleviate it. Why was this affecting me so much? I wanted something I couldn't name. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX NC-17 PORTION XXXXXXXXXXXXX The sudden, unprompted image of Scully wearing that sexy corset number and bent over a bench blazed across my mind. I hardened immediately and moaned softly, closing my eyes. Jesus. I hadn't laced the fly and easily pulled myself out of the constraints of the shorts, which thankfully, allowed extra room for expansion. I stroked myself lightly, feeling my shaft twitch and begin to throb with excitement. I imagined Scully with one of her 'few' vibrators and felt a surge in my balls. This was going to be quick. I panted lightly, feeling sweat break out on my forehead. I reached out a hand and settled it on the door next to the mirror to steady myself. I increased the speed and harshness of my stroking, feeling my orgasm already beginning to coil deep in my nut sacks. I let the shorts fall to the carpet and stepped out of them, resuming my stroking after kicking them out of the way. I groaned as I imagined her lips wrapping around the head of my cock and that was all it took. I shouted, "Ohhhhh, fuck, Scccuuulllyyy!" Two things then happened at once. Hard stinging ropes of cum shot out of my shaft, spraying across the mirror, and at the same time a hard rapping reverberated through the walls from the front door. I shouted, "Awwww, God!" as my hips jerked forward of their own accord, relinquishing the last of my load. I shook myself and realized someone was knocking on the door. Then I heard her voice. "Mulder! Are you all right? Mulder!" XXXXXXXXXXXX END NC-17 PORTION XXXXXXXXXXXX I gasped and reached hastily for the leather shorts, yanking them up on my hips and stuffing my sticky, flaccid equipment inside. A wave of panic hit me as I realized I'd covered the mirror in my ejaculate. I heard her key in the lock and took a deep breath. "Just a sec, Scully!" I had no time to put on regular clothes and slipped out of the bedroom, making sure to close the door snugly behind me just as the front door swung open. She entered quickly, pushing the door shut and then whirling to face me. "Are you all right, I heard you yell," she began. She came to an abrupt halt and her mouth dropped. Her eyes scanned me from head to toe and she gulped. "I'm sorry." "Don't worry about it," I said as calmly as I could, trying to mask the breathy quality of my voice. My heart was still beating like a run away train. "I heard you yell," she began again, her eyes searching out the carpet. "I'm all right. I didn't hear you knock right away." "You, you were yelling," she stammered. "I'm sorry I just let myself in, but I thought," her words ended abruptly. Her eyes shot back to me again, flickering down to my shorts and skittering away again almost immediately. "You were yelling," she finished, somewhat lamely. I stared at her, unable to answer. 'Gee, Scully. Just shouted your name in the middle of a ball clenching orgasm. Sorry about that!' I was at a complete loss for words. "Uh, I was daydreaming," I finally said, clearing my throat. She raised her eyes to me questioningly. "Daydreaming?" When she caught sight of my burning cheeks, I saw the corners of her mouth twitch as she realized what I had probably been doing. "Oh, well," she stuttered out, looking anywhere but at me. "Okay." An awkward silence descended upon us, thick and uncomfortable. "I was trying on the clothes. To see if they all fit, obviously," I choked out, unable to stand the heaviness of the quiet. She nodded, her own cheeks turning pink. Her eyes fastened on my neck and realized I was still wearing the collar. I raised my hands and fumbled with it, sliding the latch around to the front and cursing softly as it resisted my numb fingers attempts to release it. I felt tears sting my eyes in reaction to my embarrassment. "I'll be right back, Scully, I'm sorry." I turned toward the bedroom, but she was suddenly there next to me, having shed her trench coat. She was wearing cotton Capri pants and a crew neck shell that hugged the soft swell of her breasts. She whispered, "Here, let me help you." I jerked my head away, mortified and looked out the window. "I ... sorry. I just wanted to see what it looked like. Something was missing." Her cool fingers touched my neck and I shivered. She had it unlatched in two seconds flat and was removing it from my neck slowly. Too slowly. I looked down at her. Her eyes were on the collar and she let it slip off my shoulder and trail over the skin of my chest down my breastbone. Her head shook slightly and she yanked her hand away, stepping back to hand it back to me. I took it in nerveless fingers and let my arm fall to my side. Her eyes were perusing my chest again and I had the ridiculous urge to puff my chest out. I resisted, but just barely. She licked her lips and I coughed, trying to swallow the moan that wanted to escape. Despite my recent self abuse session, I felt my crotch twitch in my shorts and then realized in horror that I hadn't laced them up. The fly was gaping open at the top, the flaps of leather lying against my hips. I glanced down and noticed that the tops of my hipbones were visible. It snapped me out of my trance and I put a hand in front of my abdomen and said, "I'll change. I'll be right back." Her hand on my forearm stopped me and I looked at her. "What is it?" I asked quietly. She stepped back again. "Lace them up first," she said in a strong, soft voice. "Let me see how you look." I felt a zing of excitement race through me at her tone. I always felt this way, exhilarated when Scully took on that authoritative manner. She has such a quiet yet fierce strength inside of her that commands attention when she calls upon it. Whether it was with me, a suspect or someone else, I was always a little awed by it. I stepped back from her, setting the collar on the coffee table and then moved my hands down to gently tug at the laces, all too aware that I was semi-hard and not wanting to lace them too tight. My hands shook as I tied a hasty knot. I looked back up to her, letting my arms fall to my side and waited silently for her response, my entire body tense. She put her hands on her hips and tilted her head to one side, raking her eyes from my toes to my head again. I felt my nipples harden under her scrutiny. Her gaze met mine, and for a long moment, we just stared at each other, until she finally licked her lips nervously again and said, "That looks fantastic on you, Mulder." I chuckled a little shyly and shrugged. "Thanks." "You're right, though. It does need something else," she commented, her voice far away, her eyes falling from mine. "Scully?" "You need an armband or," she looked back up to me. "The collar. That goes too." Something was passing between us, yet I had no idea what the hell it was. "Thanks," I said carefully. "Maybe I'll get one." "What's wrong with that one?" she asked, pointing at the coffee table. I snapped my head up to look at her again. "It's got that loop for a leash." I saw something flare in her eyes for a second and she sucked a long breath into her lungs. Then she regarded me calmly and I figured I must have imagined the excitement I thought I saw there. She nodded sharply and walked toward my kitchen. "Get dressed. I have some things to go over with you." End of discussion. I beat a hasty retreat to the bedroom and shut the door behind me, going straight for the bathroom. I stripped off the shorts and vest and carefully wiped the residue of my ejaculation off the inside of the leather with a damp cloth. I jumped into the shower quickly and rinsed off. I emerged and pulled on a pair of sweats and a tee shirt and went back out into the living room. She was leaning against the doorjamb to the kitchen, one shoulder propping her up. She said, "I started coffee." "Good, cool," I said, feeling like an idiot. She approached me and stood in front of me about five inches away. I didn't dare move as I looked down at her, waiting for her to tell me what she'd come for. When she said nothing, I asked, "Did you come here for something specific? Or just to toss ideas about the case?" She swallowed and looked up at me. "Actually, it sounds dumb now." "What?" She stepped back slightly. "Mulder, I'm nervous about something regarding this case," she said hesitantly. "I'm not really sure how to bring it up." "Just tell me," I tried to urge softly. "I was thinking about what we talked about at Jackie's," she said, her cheeks flushed pink. "God, I don't know how to say this and not have it sound as ridiculous as I know it's going to." "Scully, just spit it out." "Mulder, it does stand to reason that the time probably *will* come when we might need to touch each other, or kiss, or something. In front of others," she added. It was my turn to swallow harshly, feeling my body already begin to sway toward hers. She noticed and took another small step back. "And?" "And I don't want the first time I kiss you to be awkward. Especially with an audience." "Ahh, so you wanted to what? Practice?" I asked sarcastically, retreating into the comfortable mode of deflecting my feelings. She scowled. "Stupid, huh? Sorry, I'll just go. Forget it." She turned and didn't take one step before my hand was on her arm, yanking her against me. I wasn't rough, but I saw that flare of indignation in her eyes again. She hated to be manhandled. It was something I'd always known. She did not like her height or stature accentuated or pointed out in any way. I didn't blame her and immediately let go of her arm. "Sorry, don't go, Scully." "No, I'm sorry. I don't know what the hell I was thinking." "Scully, stop," I said softly. She just stared at me, looking uncertain, and I stepped into her, putting my hands on her neck and slowly sliding them up to her face. My thumbs came around and rubbed gently at her lips. She sucked in a little, sharp breath and I met her eyes. I lowered my head, so slowly it was maddening, giving her a chance to pull away. When I was a hair's breadth away, I whispered. "Sure about this?" I watched her swallow and nod slightly. "Yeah," she breathed, her lips moistly parting. "Then kiss me," I said, proud of how even and challenging my voice was. Her eyes snapped up to mine and there it was again; that spark of indignation at my tone. I nearly shrank away from her but managed to hold my ground. That was the last minute I can clearly recall. The next second, her hands were on the back of my neck and she was crushing her mouth up into mine, jamming her tongue into my mouth. I hesitated for a mere second in surprise and then joined the fray, my tongue battling for supremacy with hers. Her hands slipped down my biceps and pulled away suddenly. The next instant they were on my chest and pushing. I nearly staggered back. "Sit," she said firmly, indicating the couch. What the ...? I gulped and sat down, feeling my cock rise up in my pants again, feeling compressed. Without hesitation, she slid into my lap, straddling my legs, and gripped my shoulders, plunging her mouth down again. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I was trying to truly grasp the fact that this was *Scully*. Her assault now was almost brutal and the battle was renewed as we dueled for control of the kiss. I was almost there, thinking I was about to take over and direct the next move when one of her hands fisted in my hair and yanked my head back. I yelped in surprise more than pain, and stared into her eyes. They were nearly black with arousal and her lips were bruised and swollen. Her chest heaved and she shook my head slightly, like a dog would a pup as if to say, 'Behave'. I felt warmth steal through my chest and with it, another shiver of excitement. Her cheeks were flushed and she looked magnificent. Her face came down close to mine. I never would have expected her to be so aggressive, but it lit something inside me and I felt my insides burn. I wanted to be what she wanted. I wanted to be whatever she needed. I only wished I knew what that was. Just the tip of her pink tongue snaked out and slid along my bottom lip. It began to quiver and then she sucked the entire thing into her mouth and suckled. I groaned loudly, not even trying to suppress it and bucked my hips into hers, my now raging erection begging for release. She jammed her hips against mine, effectively telling me to stay still. I gritted my teeth and managed to obey as her hand left my hair and she cradled my face. I raised my hands, but hers dropped down and grasped my wrists, pinning them next to my head against the backrest of the couch. She kissed me again, softly this time. I responded tentatively and could feel her approval. I relaxed my arms and felt her grip loosen. She pulled back and silently climbed out of my lap, glancing briefly at the big lump in the front of my shorts. "Now I know how it feels," she said softly. I whispered back, "So you won't be caught off guard?" I played along. She nodded. "I'll be prepared." "Good, I'm glad," I said, wincing at how pathetic it sounded. She nodded again and headed for the door, grabbing her coat off the rack and stuffing her arms into it, pulling her keys out of her pocket. Her hand was on the knob before I found my voice again. "Scully," I called out. She stopped and tilted her head but didn't turn to look at me. "Stop by anytime you feel you need ... practice," I teased. I heard another one of her trademark delicate snorts and then she was out the door, closing it gently behind her. XXXXXXXXXXXX I don't know how long I sat there afterwards, replaying every move and gesture of the encounter. After concentrated effort, my ignored hard on finally began to deflate. I stood up and stripped out of my clothes and climbed into bed. It was early, but I couldn't think of what to do now. She'd turned my evening upside down. The phone rang and I answered the one next to bed, "Mulder." I sounded way too hopeful. "Fox, how is everything going?" No introductions. "Senator," I greeted him, barely disguising the disappointment in my voice. "Everything's fine. We go in tomorrow." "You have everything you need?" "Yes, we do. I've been doing research like you asked. I knew something about it in a peripheral way, in any case." "I'm sure you did. Don't hesitate to call on me if you need anything at all, understand?" "Yes, Sir. Thank you. I'm just ..." "What, Fox?" "I'm worried about Agent Scully. This is the type of assignment that can ruin partnerships." There was an odd pause and then he said, "I think your partnership with Agent Scully is strong, the best I've ever seen, in fact. I'm sure it won't suffer any damage that can't be repaired." "What's that supposed to mean?" "Nothing. Just that you two are very good at what you do, and you genuinely have a mutual respect for one another." "Yeah, I know, but let's be honest, Senator. You're asking us to go into a very highly charged atmosphere. That's enough to daunt even the stoutest of hearts." "And you don't think Agent Scully has a stout heart?" "Of course I do, but you know what I mean." There was another odd silence. "I think you underestimate your partner, Fox." "I never underestimate Scully!" I said emphatically. "Are you sure?" he asked cryptically. My antenna went up suddenly and I sat up in bed. "What are you trying to tell me?" "I'm saying you shouldn't judge a book by its cover. And I'm saying you need to have a little more faith in your partner, Fox." Now he'd crossed a line. I respected the man but this was too much. "Senator, there's not a person on this planet I have more faith in than Scully," I said fiercely. "I just don't want this case to cause her any more discomfort than it has to." There was another pause. "You're right, Fox. Forgive me. I'm merely expressing my own anxiousness over solving this case. Please forgive me. I just want my friend's murderer caught." I deflated. "I know. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to raise my voice." "It's quite all right. You're right. It's a highly unusual situation, Fox, but that's what you're best at, highly unusual situations. I guess I just want to say that I think you'll do fine, both of you." I relaxed even more under his obvious praise. I hoped his faith in me wasn't misguided. I honestly didn't know if we could pull this off. How could he know of my secret yearnings for my partner? How could he know I'd just spent an emotionally charged evening having the wind kissed out of me by the object of my deepest desires? I was over reacting. "I'm sorry again." "No problem. Let me know if you need anything, anything at all, Fox." "I will. Thank you. Good night." "One last thing, Fox. I found out they require an emergency contact on the application. Put my name down." "Your name?" "Yes, I know the owner through a friend." "Sir, you aren't a member, are you?" I teased. There was another awkward pause. "No, but I have friends who are, obviously, so I know something of it." "I see." "Good night, then." He hung up without further ado and I did too, flopping back onto the bed. I reviewed the conversation and began to wonder what he meant by some of the comments he'd made. He'd almost sounded amused, which was what had annoyed me, I realized. He had sounded as though he knew something I didn't, but that couldn't be right. I mean, I knew he knew a lot of things I didn't, but nobody knew Scully better than I did. I just couldn't figure out what he'd meant. His comments were cryptic and I hated that, ambiguity, uncertainty. He was making me doubt my partner and myself. No, that wasn't right. I'd done that all by myself. Maybe I *was* underestimating Scully. I hated to admit it, but as I lay there thinking about it, I realized many of the things I took for granted were assumptions on my part. I'd never actually really talked to Scully about sex, her past, or her experiences. I had no idea how free she was in college or grad school. She teased me about my porn collection, but never seemed genuinely offended by it, now that I thought about it. I guess the fact that she was Catholic led me to believe certain things right off the bat. What if she wasn't as pedestrian in her tastes as I thought? What if? My mind flooded with images from the recesses of my darkest desires. My hands bound, Scully making me please her. Feeling vindicated because I'd given her pleasure no one else could ever give her. Seeing her breaking apart in my arms in the throes of a monstrous orgasm. I shuddered and felt my cock begin to rise again. I had to stop torturing myself like this. It served no purpose other than to make me crave things I couldn't have. I would never hurt Scully and she would never hurt me. Of this I was certain. Sexually aggressive or passive, I knew that I would take her any way I could get her, should she ever offer herself to me. I just plain wanted her like I had never wanted another woman in my entire life. I knew she had to the power to do something no woman had ever done for me. She could fill the void that I spent years trying to fill with work and obsessions of various sorts. She could 'complete' me. I knew she could. The question was, would she? Could she ever bring herself to take our relationship there? Her kisses tonight indicated that maybe I had a better chance than I thought previously. Fantasizing about me and doing anything about it were two different things. Being attracted to me and being in love with me were two different things. I was in love with her. This was my truth, my universal constant. To this day, I still didn't know. Was she in love with me? XXXXXXXXXX PART 7 (R) CACHOT DESIRER WASHINGTON, D.C. WEDNESDAY -- 10:00 AM We approached the counter. No one was there, so Scully rang the bell that sat on the long marble top. A door opened behind the counter and an enormous man appeared. His salt and pepper hair hung thickly to his shoulders. His chest was broad and his biceps bulged. "Can I help you?" he asked calmly in a smooth baritone. I spoke up. "We're looking for Jean Luc Dantonet." "Who's asking?" I stuck out my hand. "George Hale. This is my wife, Katherine." He shook my hand firmly, nodded slightly at Scully before he asked, "What do you want?" "Membership," I stated firmly. One thick eyebrow rose towards his hairline. "I'm Jean Luc Dantonet. This is a very exclusive club, Mr. Hale. We generally don't just accept members that walk in off the streets." I laughed easily. "We're not exactly walking in off the streets. We brought some references." I reached into the pocket of suit jacket and handed him the cream colored envelope that Senator Matheson had given us. I was dying to know who had written the recommendations and had briefly considered steaming the envelope open. Later, I had decided against it. I didn't want to be in the Senator's bad graces and that would be a breach of his trust. Didn't dampen my curiosity, though. He opened the envelope, tearing the end off, and slid out a sheaf of papers. I realized there had to be at least four letters there. He unfolded them and read them quietly, while Scully shifted her weight from one leg to the other. We'd decided to wear our work clothes for the approach. It wouldn't look right to wear the gear outside the club and we knew that many Washingtonians were members here, so they were probably used to seeing business suits. I saw both his eyebrows rise as he read the second letter. He went faster after that, leafing through them as I counted. There were four. He cleared his throat. "Seems I owe you an apology for being rude." I smiled. "No problem. We know you don't know us." "Why is that?" he asked. "Pardon me?" "Why is it that I don't know you?" I hesitated and Scully jumped in. "We just transferred out here from San Diego. This is our first time living on the east coast." He nodded. "Ah, well, then, welcome to the Atlantic side." We both chuckled. "Thanks." He eyed our duffel bags, then ducked down, emerging with two white sheets of paper. The recommendations were gone. He must have put them under the counter. "I need you to fill these out for our records. I have to have your real addresses and an emergency contact for you." We nodded as though we were used this. He slid them across the counter with a pen. "I'll be back in a few minutes." As soon as he left, Scully whispered, "Who should we put? I can't exactly list my mother on this." "For what?" Then I realized I never told her about Senator Matheson's call last night. "Oh, put Senator Matheson." "Are you nuts?" she whispered. "He called last night about this very thing, I forgot to tell you. Just put him down. I'll explain it all later." Her eyebrow shot up. "You better." XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Registration went without a hitch. We were given a tour of the facilities and were shown the locker rooms for the men and women and each assigned a locker. Scully was suspiciously quiet throughout and I worried that she was already getting overwhelmed. I couldn't wait to get her into a room so she could relax for a little while. We ended our tour and made reservations for a standing appointment three nights a week. We didn't have to make the appointments if we didn't want to, but if we missed, and didn't cancel by phone, we would have to pay for the use of the facilities anyway. We gave both our fake credit cards for insurance and were finally shown to a private room as requested. He handed us a key, asking that we lock the door if we had to leave for any reason and planned on returning. He also asked that we turn in the key on our way out. Scully finally became vocal and thanked him, shaking his hand saying she was very pleased with his facility. "It's first rate, Mr. Dantonet. I'm impressed." He puffed a little under her praise and I smiled, proud of her for thinking to stroke him a bit. We hadn't left our things in the locker room, but toted them with us as we entered the room and locked the door behind us. We stood silently, looking around. The room contained a wall brace, where you could bind someone into a padded leather chair like thing that hooked them to the wall. There was a bench and a horse, or a triangular type bench that you bent someone over. There were poles with hooks for handcuffs. I looked at the set up, which looked like staging. One long wooden pole hung between two cross braces. I could see where you could fasten handcuffs to the pole to keep your partner upright but still effectively have them at your mercy. My pants swelled at the thought of a helpless Scully, but then I quickly imagined myself there and felt another, much stronger surge in my groin. I bit my lip and turned to see her making the same perusal I was. "So," I said. "So," she repeated. An awkward silence followed. "I guess I should go to the locker room and change." "Change here," I heard myself saying. Her eyes snapped up to mine and I said quickly, "I'll look the other way. I mean, don't you think it'll look strange that we aren't comfortable enough to change in the same room?" She continued looking at me for a long moment, and I had to fight not to squirm under her penetrating gaze. "Yeah. You're right." She graced me with a quirky smile and set her duffel bag down. She squatted and pulled out a couple of items I recognized from the shopping trip. I turned away and then heard her say, "Why don't you dress too?" We proceeded to strip and leave our clothes folded neatly on a bench near the wall, studiously trying to avoid looking at each other. I still ended up sneaking glances in spite of my best efforts not to. Our eyes caught once and we both smiled sheepishly before turning back around. "Mulder, you're peeking." "How would you know if you weren't looking to catch me?" I said slyly. I heard her answering chuckle. "Point taken." I was done, wearing the pants and the vest and in my bare feet. I wiggled my toes against the rubber mat that covered the floor and cleared my throat. I had the distinct feeling she was checking out my backside. Or maybe it was wishful thinking. She said softly, "I'm done, you can turn around." I turned around quickly and felt my eyes widen and my mouth drop. She was wearing the corset, laced up the center with inches of Scully skin showing through the laces. The black thong panties barely covered her nether lips. Jesus Christ. I gulped, trying not to do a double take when I realized there was no visible hair peeking from the sides. Holy shit, she had to have shaved. Her thighs were bare until they met the black stockings with elastic tops that clung to her legs like a second skin. One hand was behind her back, but I could still see that it too was covered with a black leather glove that reached to her forearm. I didn't remember those being bought. Maybe they were one of the things she'd purchased when she was by herself. Man, what else did she have in that bag of goodies? I blew air out of pursed lips and said, "You look," I shook my head. "Don't take this the wrong way but, Jesus, there are no words for how sexy you are." She beamed me the full smile, with teeth, and I felt my stomach do a weird little flip-flop. Then she lowered the hand that was behind her back and I saw she was holding the dog collar. My voice was husky when I asked, "Do you want me to put that on you?" I approached her slowly as though she were a skittish colt that might bolt at any minute. She shook her head and I stopped. Then she said, "I want to put it on YOU. It goes with your outfit better." My jaw dropped. "But," I started to protest. She crooked her finger at me and I was helpless to resist. I walked up and stopped about a foot away. She bit her bottom lip as though deciding on something and finally said, "Do you trust me?" "Of course I do," I stuttered again. "Kneel down." I know my eyes got wide for a second, but then I realized she couldn't reach that well when I was standing like this. Despite the three-inch fuck me pumps on her feet, I still towered over her. I knelt down, trying not to look clumsy and she smiled at me. She reached out and slid the collar around my neck. Then when she leaned forward to see the latch in the back and hook it, her chest was suddenly right in front of my face. I exhaled a long, hot breath and watched as her skin broke out into gooseflesh. Right between her breasts was this perfect little patch of skin that had my tongue written all over it. I felt myself begin to sway forward. I was seconds from doing one of those really stupid things I was so worried about doing, when I found one tiny sliver of self-restraint and grabbed a hold of it for all I was worth. My hands came up to grip her waist and I felt her stiffen. "Scully," I sighed, pushing her back from me slightly. "What are you doing?" I dropped my hands immediately, and fell back to sit on my heels, needing to put some space between us. "Nothing," I started to say when I looked up at her from where I sat and almost groaned at the sight. From this vantage point, I could now see directly between her legs, the thin line of fabric of her thong hugged down the middle by the plump sides of her flesh. This was fucking ridiculous. I stood abruptly and turned away from her, taking several steps toward the opposite wall. This was NOT going to work. How the hell was I supposed to keep my mind on the goddamned case with her looking like that? "Mulder," her quiet voice floated toward me. I closed my eyes, fighting for some control. "I told you I wouldn't hold it against you. I meant that. It's okay." I felt my heart rate increase. I turned back to her. There was no point in hiding my reactions if she was already well aware of how she was affecting me. I expected to see mirth in her eyes, but was surprised to see her regarding me very seriously. I swallowed. "What?" I asked stupidly, feeling the walls caving in. She tilted her head to the side and continued to stare. "What!?" I asked again, self-consciousness flooding through me. "Where are the shorts we bought for you?" "Uhhh, at home." I dropped my gaze. I hadn't worn them on purpose, hoping in no way to remind her of what I'd been doing the last time she'd seen me in them. "Wear them when we come back." My eyes shot back up to her. "Why?" She held my gaze. "Because I'm asking you to." I felt almost shy under the intensity of her stare. "Yeah, okay, whatever you say." "Whatever I say?" she repeated back to me, her tone serious and soft. "Anything," I breathed, starting to see that outfit on her in a whole new light. I was suddenly very conscious of the collar on my neck. Her eyes flickered away from me. "Mulder, listen to me," she began. The sudden, shrill ring of my cell phone erupted from the confines of my gym bag, causing us both to jump slightly. She smirked. "Saved by the bell." I smiled and moved to answer it. "Yeah?" [Are you inside?] a voice asked at once. I couldn't believe it. "Senator, I don't think you understand the concept of 'undercover'. It's very dangerous for you to contact us," I reprimanded. [Fox, are you inside?] he said again, urgency in his voice. I glanced up at Scully, who was eyeing me curiously. "Yes, Sir." [I know this goes against protocol, but it simply couldn't wait. The coroner has changed Senator Thompson's cause of death to 'Accidental Asphyxiation'.] "What???" [I don't understand it either, Fox, but it tells me there may be a lot more going on in that club than any of us thought.] "Why would they want to cover up his murder?" [It makes absolutely no sense,] he agreed gravely. "Somebody doesn't want this place investigated," I said, pinching the bridge of my nose between my fingers. "What's your call on this? Without a murder, we have no justification for an official investigation." [No, you stay exactly where you are and continue as originally planned.] "But, Sir," I protested. [Leave the official channels to me. This changes nothing as far as you're concerned. You need only to heighten your level of awareness, Fox.] I sighed. "Are you sure this is the right thing to do?" [You still have a killer to catch,] he answered pointedly. [The only difference is that we are now aware that this killer has significant influence outside of the club. You need to be very careful where you step. If the State Department is confronted by anyone regarding your presence there, you know what they will do," he told me. "Deny everything," I finished for him. [They have no choice, Fox. 'Officially' now, there is no investigation.] "This is just great," I muttered darkly. [Just don't do anything rash, keep to your covers and don't call any attention to yourselves.] "Yeah." [I'm sorry, Fox. I won't be able to contact you for several days. You and Agent Scully are the only hope we have now of infiltrating the club. I can keep you there for the time being because you're already set up, but there's no way I can make justifications for trying to go back in later.] "Yes, Sir." [Good luck,] he said and the line went dead. I turned off the phone and looked back to Scully. "What the hell is going on?" she asked immediately. "Well, partner, looks like we're on our own." XXXXXXXXXX I filled Scully in on everything Matheson had said, and she took it remarkably well, stating that we *did* still have a case to solve and if anything, this new information just added to the necessity of our presence here. I disagreed. Completely. We spent the next hour or so in a heated debate. I just couldn't shake the feeling that if and when the shit finally hit the fan, we were going be the ones to get nailed by it. In between arguing we made a tentative course of action. Now that we were on the inside, we had to start trying to flush out our perp. We weren't all that sure of where to start, but ultimately decided that at first, we would make separate attempts to look around, feeling we could easily explain ourselves if we got noticed by anyone. Scully effectively put 'I got so turned around looking for the restroom' to good use when she was seen by Jean- Luc trying to get a good look at the 'Employee Area'. That pretty much ended our snooping for the day. Even if she did still feel we should be on the case, I could tell that Senator Matheson's phone call had her a little rattled, so I wasn't surprised when she suggested we call it a night. We ended our first 'session' appearing adequately red-faced upon departure, but only because we'd managed to get each other's blood pressure up. We went into things a little more prepared on our next visit and I wore the damn shorts. XXXXXXXXXXXXXX