From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org
Date: 4 Jul 2005 09:11:20 -0000
Subject: Sight Unseen by afg
Source: direct

Reply To: siggy.63@btinternet.com


Sight Unseen
By: afg
Homepage: www.ofnoconsequence.com
Category: Angst, Scully/Other but really MSR (Oh, just read it 
and you'll see)
Rating: NC17 
Spoilers: William
Disclaimer: The X files are the property of Chris Carter and 
1013 productions. No profit is being made.
Thanks: To Tali. 
Feedback: Any comments to siggy.63@btinternet.com
Summary: When loneliness is a burden, not a choice.



For some reason I was feeling a little nervous as I stepped into 
the lift. When Jean rang me last night and told me what my 
latest job was, it struck me as unusual. Most of the time, I'm on 
the arm of some rich, but bored, older woman, being paraded 
about some party or charity event, and then, later in bed, 
making sure she's satisfied, and although I say it myself, I'm 
good at it. I get a lot of repeat business, so I must be doing 
something right.  This, though, was something different.

"Ben, honey. I've got a job for you, but you'll need to get your 
hair cut." Jean told me over the phone. "I'm emailing you a 
picture of how your client wants you to look, also there's a list 
of instructions." 

I went over to my computer and sure enough there was the 
email, I clicked on the attachment and a picture of a man 
appeared. He had short brown hair and hazel eyes, and he 
looked as though he could have been my brother. His nose was 
a little bigger but we both had the same prominent lower lip 
and little dimple in our chin. I looked at the list of instructions.

I was to go to an apartment in Alexandria and take a shower 
using the shampoo and shower gel that was in the bathroom. I 
was then to change into the clothes that had been put out for 
me and wait for my client to arrive. When she did, I was not to 
speak unless requested to do so, and to only use her last name 
'Scully.'  This was getting stranger by the second.

So, this morning, after a quick visit to the office to pick up the 
apartment key. I drove over to my hairdressers for the required 
hair cut.  I was sorry to lose the length, a lot of my older clients 
seemed to like me with longer hair, but it would grow back 
quickly enough and anyway I was getting paid well to do it, so 
who was I to complain.   

I got off the lift as the doors opened and walked down the 
hallway in search of apartment number forty-two. When I got 
to the right door I inserted the key and went inside, shutting it 
behind me. The apartment had that uninhabited musty smell, so 
I guess the place hadn't been lived in for a while. It must have 
belonged to a guy. It just looked a little scruffy, with its 
battered old leather couch and its mismatched furniture. It was 
pretty gloomy; it didn't seem to get much sunlight. By the sofa 
was a fish-tank, its filter pump was bubbling away, but there 
were no fish in it. I had no urge to poke about the place, I was 
just here to do a job, not to get involved in whatever little 
dramas my clients were having.

I found the door for the bathroom, but only after almost being 
brained by a stack of cardboard boxes that started to topple out 
of the closet that I'd opened by mistake.  Jesus, this guy was 
untidy. I took a shower using the toiletries that were set out in 
the shower stall. I towelled off and picked up the little pile of 
clothes that had been put on the closed lid of the toilet. A pair 
of grey cotton boxers, a well worn grey T shirt and a faded pair 
of 501's which fit perfectly and hugged me in all the right 
places. I guess he and I must have had the same height and 
build. There were no socks or shoes, so I assumed that she 
wanted me barefoot. I went back out to the living room and sat 
down on the couch as per the instructions.

I wondered how this encounter was going to play out. Who was 
I supposed to be? An ex husband or lover that she still had 
feelings for? I just hoped she wasn't going to want anything 
too kinky. I wasn't much into pain, giving or receiving. Hell, I 
kind of liked the rich old girls, who were just happy to have a 
good-looking younger guy to show off to their cronies. 
Someone who would tell them that they were still beautiful and 
desirable. I was good at the charm, it was a pity that this client 
didn't seem to want to me to talk, it was one of my best 
attributes. Oh well, maybe all she wanted was a quick fuck and 
I would be out of here and several hundred dollars better off.
The sound of a key in the door broke into my thoughts, and I 
stood up to greet my newest customer.

She opened the door and stepped into the room. She saw me 
straight away. For a moment I thought she was going to faint, 
when she looked at me her already pale complexion, turned a 
ghostly white, and she wobbled slightly on her high heels. Her 
eyes closed briefly and when she opened them, her composure 
had returned. She wasn't what I expected, I don't really know 
what I expected, but it wasn't this serious looking redhead. She 
was dressed in a black pants suit, with a dark green turtle neck 
sweater underneath.  It looked good on her, if a little sombre. I 
waited for her to say something, but she just stood by the door 
looking at me, her eyes moving over me, first to my face, and 
then sweeping down my body 'til she reached my bare feet. 
I've had a lot of women look me over, so I'm used to being 
ogled, but not like this. Her gaze was so intense; it felt tangible, 
like a long slow caress. 

She walked slowly towards me, taking off her jacket; she laid it 
over the back of one of the chairs. Her eyes never left me, I felt 
a little uncomfortable under her scrutiny, but I kept a bland 
expression on my face. She stood in front of me, she really was 
short, her head, even in those heels, only just reached my 
shoulder. She seemed taller from the door. I was surprised 
when her arms, suddenly wrapped themselves around my waist 
and she pressed her body to mine in a fierce hug. Her face 
pressed to my breastbone. She was breathing me in slowly; I 
could feel her ribs expanding against my stomach. I kept my 
arms by my side, not knowing what she wanted me to do.

Her voice when it came was quiet and low "Hold me" was all 
she said, so I put my arms around her I cupped the back of her 
head with one hand and with the other I gently stroked her 
back. A little shudder ran through her body, so I held her 
tighter. We stood like that for a few minutes. The silence in the 
room hung heavy, and I was almost glad to hear rain hitting the 
windows. My hand was smoothing over her lower back when I 
felt something hard and metallic under her sweater. I knew 
straight away what it was and I moved back a step wondering 
what the hell I was getting myself into. My clients don't 
usually come armed.

She looked up at me, and I almost got a smile, she reached 
around and unclipped the holster from her waistband.

"It's okay, I'm in law enforcement," she told me and walked 
over to the desk and placed the weapon in the drawer.

Shit, a cop. Was she going to bust me or something? What the 
fuck was going on here?   

She must have seen the panic showing through on my face, 
because she came back over to me.

"I'm not on duty, this is personal," She didn't meet my eyes 
and she looked a little embarrassed. Now, that, I could handle, 
just as long as there were no handcuffs or bullets, I was fine.

She took a deep breath and reached up with both her hands and 
gently held my face, her thumbs making little circles on each 
side of my jaw, then moving up to brush lightly over my 
forehead. Finally her thumbs ran over my lips. She dropped her 
hands down by her sides and held my gaze.

"May I kiss you?"

I nodded. Every client I met seemed to have seen 'Pretty 
Woman' and assumed that all prostitutes, even the male ones 
didn't allow kissing. However, all of my clients are women and 
women like to kiss, so it's a big part of my job.

Her hand palmed the back of my neck and I had to lean 
forward so that she could reach me. Her lips gently brushed 
mine, she had nice lips, full and soft. Her tongue ran along my 
bottom lip and she lightly nipped it with her teeth. I opened my 
mouth a little to invite her in. Her tongue slowly introduced 
itself to mine. She tasted of coffee and mint. I knew that I 
tasted tangy and salty from the sunflower seeds I'd been eating 
on and off since I'd picked up the bag from Jean's office this 
morning. I've had a couple of strange requests in my time, but 
no one has ever asked me to eat sunflower seeds before.   

We kissed for several minutes, her tongue running over my 
teeth and the roof of my mouth, she wasn't at all tentative, she 
knew exactly what she was doing, and she did it very well. I 
felt a rush of blood to my groin in response. It was nice for it to 
happen as a result of the skill of my partner and not a conscious 
effort of will on my part. We parted for air. She was breathing 
slowly as though she were keeping herself in check. She was 
aroused; her face was flushed.  I could see her nipples standing 
proud beneath her sweater. I stood and waited for her next 
move. She looked up at me and I noticed her eyes, they were a 
vivid blue, they gave the strange impression of being icy cold 
and yet as hot as the blue flame of a gas jet. Either way, you'd 
get burned. 

Her hand went to the hem of the T-shirt I was wearing, she 
lifted it up as far as my shoulders, but I had to do the rest as she 
was too small to get it over my head. I dropped it on the floor 
at my feet. Once again she held me close her arms clasped 
tightly around my middle, cheek resting on my sternum, her ear 
pressed against my heart. I held her too, she seemed to need 
holding. It occurred to me that perhaps she hadn't been held in 
a long time.   

After a minute or two she pulled away. Her eyes had lost some 
of their focus and I realized that my transformation was 
complete. No longer was I a mere substitute; to her I was Him, 
whomever He might be. Her hands lifted to rest on my 
shoulders; she slowly drew them down over my biceps and 
then over my forearms. Her hands felt cool and soft as she 
grasped my hands and lifting them to her lips she softly kissed 
along the knuckles and then turning them over placed a kiss on 
each palm. She let go and I dropped them to my sides. 

She looked at me for a long moment; her face was unreadable, 
but her eyes held a look of such longing that was almost 
painful to see. Once again I found myself wondering who I was 
supposed to be. I never normally speculate on my client's 
personal lives, I'm just not interested. I'll act the part and do 
what they require, but that's all. This woman however, had me 
intrigued; there was a miasma of sadness about her, yet, she 
held herself so straight and proud, seemingly daring anyone to 
pity her.       

"Take my clothes off."

Her quiet request made my groin ache. I watched as she took 
her pumps off; she instantly dropped three inches. I gently 
lifted her sweater up and over her head and I dropped it on the 
floor. She smoothed her hair back into place, pushing it behind 
her ears. I located the side zip of her pants and lowered it, they 
fell in a dark puddle around her feet and she stepped out of 
them and kicked them away. She wore a white silk bra and 
panties, simple yet pretty. My fingers undid the little front 
clasp and freed her breasts from their confinement. She gave a 
little gasp as my knuckles brushed her skin above the silk. I 
was eager to see all of her so adding the bra to the pile of 
clothes I gently hooked by thumbs in her panties and slipped 
them down and off. I stood up looked at the woman before me. 
She was in no way diminished by her nakedness. 

We stood in silence for long moments, each of us looking the 
other over, I notice a few scars on her body, one especially 
large one on her stomach just above her navel. I'd never been 
with anyone who had scars before, unless you count the hidden 
ones behind ears and above hairlines, they came with the 
territory. The women I usually fuck are desperately clinging to 
what they consider youthful, even though it gives them the 
appearance of wax dummies, with their stretched and shiny 
skin and their permanent expressions of surprise. Breasts like 
store mannequins, hard and round on their bony chests. I liked 
her scars, it made her seem more human and in a strange way,
it added to her beauty. Her hand took mine and she placed it on 
her breast, her other hand went to the nape of my neck and she 
pulled me down for a long kiss. My hand kneaded her soft 
flesh gently; I could feel her hard little nipple against my palm. 
She trailed her fingers down, over my chest and stomach 
making the muscles there twitch. Her nimble fingers slowly 
undid the snaps on my borrowed 501's, as though she'd done it 
a thousand times. A warm hand gently cupped me through the 
cotton of my boxers, sliding a palm up and down my length, 
making my hips thrust forward. She moaned softly in my 
mouth and began to trail her lips down my throat, gently 
nipping my Adam's apple then lower, over my sternum to my 
stomach until she sunk to her knees before me.

I really wasn't used to being such a passive participant, my 
clients normally expected me to be the one making love to 
them. This woman was making me feel off balance and out of 
control. I was being drawn into her little fantasy whatever it 
might be. My breath was coming faster and I had to clench my 
fists so I didn't just grab a hold of her and do the things I 
wanted to do. I actually felt jealous of the guy I was supposed 
to be; no one had ever touched me with such tenderness, such 
longing. I suddenly understood what the word 'cherished' 
meant.  Her warm, wet tongue investigated my navel, as her 
hands ran over my abdomen before grasping the waistband of 
the jeans and dragging them down my legs, taking the boxers 
along for the ride, she got them down to my ankles and I 
stepped out of them. Her hands swept slowly over my feet, 
passing over my shins and calves and up over the long muscles 
of my thighs.  I really couldn't believe my luck when she took 
me in her mouth. At this rate I was going to end up paying her. 
I could no longer keep my hands to myself and gently ran my 
fingers through her hair at the back of her skull as she oh, so 
slowly drew me in and out, her tongue caressing me as she 
applied gentle suction. After long minutes of her tender 
ministrations I had to gently grasp her shoulders to pull her up 
to her feet. After all, it wouldn't do for me to embarrass myself. 
I looked down at her flushed face. Her eyes where heavy lidded 
and her lips were slightly swollen.

"Touch me," she whispered in between kissing my chest. 
"Please, touch me." 

My hands ran over her back feeling the muscles under her soft 
skin I ran my fingers over the prominent ridges of her shoulder 
blades and then trailed them down the ladder of her spine until 
I reached the swell of her delightful ass with its firm, smooth 
flesh. She sighed as I kneaded her behind and she pressed 
herself closer to me, her hands sliding up to my shoulders.

"Sit down." She said, as she gently pushed me to sit on the 
sofa. The worn leather felt cool to my rapidly heating skin.

She gracefully straddled my lap and began to kiss me in 
earnest. Her tongue stroking mine, her hands holding my head 
and stroking my jaw as my hands cupped her small breasts, my 
thumbs stroking over the hard little buds.  I was really enjoying 
myself now that I was allowed to touch her. This was more like 
it. I started to let loose a little. I cupped the back of her skull 
and gently grasped a fistful of her hair and pulled her head 
back to expose her throat, which I kissed and nipped, but she 
grabbed my chin and once again took control. I went for the 
big guns and reached down and gently slipped a finger into her 
folds. She gasped and her hips jerked in response as I swiftly 
located her clit and began to gently circle the pad of my finger 
over it. Her hips soon took up the rhythm. I looked at her face, 
her eyes were closed and her lips slightly parted, her breathing 
grew heavier with her arousal. My own breathing was none too 
light by this point, as there are not too many things sexier than 
a willing woman writhing on your lap. My other hand was still 
grasping her breast and I bent down to take the nipple in my 
mouth. She gave a sharp cry as I began to suck and a definite 
moan emerged from those glorious lips as I nipped at it with 
my teeth. She surprised me by gently scraping her nails over 
my own nipples and then reaching between us to take me in her 
hand. 

"Please," she said, in between kissing me.

She leaned over and slipped her hand down the side of the sofa 
cushion, producing a little foil packet, she ripped it open with 
her teeth and carefully rolled the condom slowly down my 
shaft, making me sigh with the pleasure of it. I held her waist 
as she rose up and positioned my cock at her entrance. I 
couldn't hold back a groan of my own as her wet heat slid 
down my length. Watching her as her back arched in pleasure 
and she started to slowly rise and fall, she was beautiful.

"Oh, God, Mulder." She breathed as she wrapped her arms 
around my shoulders and pressed herself tight to me, her hips 
still undulating. I figured this Mulder guy must be a complete 
dick not to stick around for this. Didn't the guy know what he 
was missing?

She started to move faster, grinding her pubic bone against 
mine on every down stroke and I could feel my own release 
lurking not far away. I suddenly realised that she was speaking, 
well, not speaking as such, just one word.

"Sorrysorrysorrysorrysorry," over and over, it was a bit 
unnerving and I wondered what she was sorry for.

Suddenly I felt her internal muscles ripple over my cock and 
she gripped onto me so tightly, that I was sure I'd have bruises, 
Then she let loose with a howl that didn't sound like pleasure 
at all, it was more a cry of absolute anguish and I felt her come 
hard in my arms, her whole body shaking. My own groaning 
release swiftly followed. When I came back to myself I heard 
her sobbing gently and telling me things I had no right to hear. 
I wanted to tell her to stop. I wasn't him, she shouldn't be 
telling me these things about lost babies and a desperate litany 
of failure, I didn't though, I just held her tight, her voice in my 
ear and the feeling of my cock softening inside her, somehow 
more intimate than the sex we'd just had.    

We sat, still joined, our bodies cooling in the chill of the 
unaired apartment. I could no longer feel her hot tears running 
down my back. My ass was getting numb but I didn't dare 
break the spell, she seemed reluctant to let me go. After several 
minutes though, I felt her body tense and she slightly stiffly 
pushed herself off me and stood. She didn't look at me, but 
reached behind me to the sofa and snagged the rug off the back 
and wrapped it around herself.            

"You can use the shower if you want before you leave," she 
said, still avoiding my eyes. She'd surrounded herself with 
more than just a blanket.

I was glad to warm up a little in the shower. When I'd dressed 
in my own clothes I folded the jeans and T-shirt and put them 
back on the lid of the toilet where I'd found them. Walking 
back into the living room I saw her sitting on the sofa, still 
wrapped in the blanket with her knees drawn up to her chest. 
She looked desperately lost. I felt like a complete shit standing 
there waiting for my money. She startled a little as she 
suddenly realised I was standing there. 

"There's an envelope on the table by the door," she said, and I 
was disappointed to see that she looked ashamed.

Not wanting to draw the moment out any longer than 
necessary, I walked to the door picking the envelope up as I 
went. 

"Is he dead?" I asked, suddenly wanting to know.

"I don't know." Her voice was a whisper.

I nodded and opened the door to step outside.

"He'd forgive you." For some reason I felt the need to try and 
make this woman feel better.

She looked at me then, her eyes locked with mine, and she 
shook her head slightly.

"Thanks" she said, not believing me in the slightest 

I gave her one last look and walked out of the door shutting it 
behind me, remembering just why I don't get involved in the 
lives of my clients, it just makes thing too complicated. 
Stepping into the elevator I rode it to the ground floor and 
made my way out of the building and onto the street. I took a 
last look up at the dark window of the apartment I'd just been 
in, somehow knowing that I'd never be back. It was probably 
just as well. 

 
The end