From: "nja ***" To: Subject: [XFNC17ff] She Wears it Well by abracadabra 1/7 Date: Friday, February 28, 2003 7:54 PM Title: She Wears It Well Author: abracadabra Rating: R/NC-17 Keywords: MSR, Clothing Spoilers: Season 7. For the purposes of this story, nothing else follows Season 7. Summary: Seasons Series -- Snowed Inn Universe. They're in a close, intimate relationship. A little window-shopping in Boston. You don't have to have read Snowed Inn to 'get' this one. Thanks: Kim and Denise, the daredevil smut duo of betas! Or is that, dare devil duo of smut betas? At any rate, I know I couldn't do it without either one of them. Thanks!! Also, thank you to Traci for her read-through. Disclaimer: Ok, they're not mine...These characters actually do belong to Chris Carter (but I like to play with them), 1013 Productions (I won't tell anyone I'm borrowing them) and Fox Studios (no comment). Notes: 2nd annual Boston work-conference smut...The Plaza Shops exist. The clothing displayed in the windows in March agreed to be featured here. The interior of one shop was changed to suit the writer's needs. The writer received no bonuses or sales incentives to feature the names of the shops here. Archive: Anywhere with headers intact. Please notify me. Feedback: Please, please? abracadabra1754@hotmail.com Websites: http://www.geocities.com/spookys_girl2000/index.html http://www.geocities.com/mesmerizememulder/ Date: 3 March 02 ~*$**$**$**$**$*~ She Wears It Well By abracadabra ~*$**$**$**$**$*~ Copley Plaza Shops Boston, Massachusetts 3 March 2002 Sunday Afternoon "Let's start at the other end." "We're already right here. What's wrong with starting here?" "Because I parked the car in this garage and we should work our way back to the car." Scully's eyes rolled for the third time in so many minutes, but this time she also shook her head in reaction to just one more of her partner's endearing, if annoying habits. For someone who was so open to extreme possibilities, he was very set in his way over the more mundane aspects of every day life. "Fine, Mulder, we'll start at the other end, but," she decided to play along, "Where exactly is the other end?" Facing him, hands on her hips, she tried to hide the impatient smile she knew he'd use to his advantage. "Well, we're at the Sheraton, so the 'other end', Scully, is down by the Marriott shops." He extended his hand to her, lacing his fingers with hers, and headed past the Hynes Convention Center. As they drew closer to the Boston Tapestry wall, Mulder veered to the left, heedless of the fact that he still had Scully in tow and that she had no idea he planned to deviate from their original path. Before she could inquire as to their destination, she found herself up against the waist-height brass rail with her partner's hands framing her from behind. "What are we doing here, Mulder?" When she tried to turn to look at him, his hand gently guided her eyes back to the large granite wall in front of them. "We're checking out this sculpture. I'm betting you didn't know that it's supposed to be the view of Boston from the 52nd floor of the Pru." He had dropped into his didactic voice, one she had learned to both love and hate, depending on the circumstances. "The Prudential Tower was the first true skyscraper in Boston and Alfred M. Duca dedicated this tapestry in 1965." He couldn't stand still. Mulder gestured and punctuated his sentences with his arms...and his hips. Scully was used to his verbal and non-verbal communication; he was one of the most kinesthetic people she'd ever known. But while his arm movements in public weren't very out of the ordinary, the occasional swaying of his hips against hers was attention getting. For her. And, by the feel of things, for him, as well. "Mulder? Maybe we should head for the shops?" She turned in his direction as he wrapped his arms around her in a close approximation of a bear hug and kissed her cheek. "Whatever you say, Boss." She wasn't sure if she was relieved or disappointed about the loss of the physical connection. As they moved away from the artwork, the shops surrounded them on three sides and Scully's steps slowed. She was glad that her partner also seemed to enjoy window and 'real' shopping almost as much as she did. Since neither of them ever seemed to have the time, when they did, it became an event. Just one more 'normal people' thing they occasionally got to do. In her mind, what made it even better was that they shared these normal things on a much more personal level. And with Mulder, there was always a good chance that 'personal' involved getting naked. She could only hope. ~*$**$**$**$*~ She saw it before he did. The Body Shop. Tugging on his hand, she veered left toward the dark green painted wood-framed windows with the yellow lettering. One glance at him told her this was not what Mulder had in mind when he suggested they should walk through the plaza. "Scully," half-whining, half-imploring, "What's in there that you need?" "I don't 'need' anything, but there's something I definitely want." "Me?" "Peppermint Foot Cream, Mulder." She watched as he seemed to process the information. And his next words told her he had reached his own conclusions about its usefulness. "Is it edible?" Carrying the small brown handle bag, she led Mulder back out into the plaza, ignoring his question. "Are you enjoying yourself, Scully?" He knew he didn't really need to ask the question. The carefree smile on her face and the gleam in her eyes told him all he needed to know. 'Happiness' for him was often defined simply by being in her presence, no matter where they were. Her sight now focused on Anne Taylor across the walkway, she murmured and nodded. He followed, hoping they weren't going inside. 'Anne Taylor' looked rather sedate although Scully saw something she obviously liked. Pointing to the knee length black sleeveless shift with the stark white armhole and neckline border, she asked, "What do you think of this one, Mulder?" He watched her head tilt to one side as she moved to view it from another angle. It looked exactly the same to him from any angle. Boring. He'd never met any woman who wore as much black as the love of his life. "It's ok, Scully. But don't you have enough black clothing? Don't you want something a little more colorful for spring?" She laughed; her hands on her hips and, without facing him, replied, "What are you, the new spring colors campaign? Black and white are crisp and sharp and..." "What about soft and warm?" He offered. He could picture her in the dress on the mannequin, her hair pulled back and up, a pair of those impossibly high black pumps, a string of pearls at her throat her translucent skin matching the luster of the pearls. She'd look stunning. But, he tried to picture the same dress in a pastel color. ~*$**$**$**$*~ He was pulled from his mental meanderings as she reversed direction, heading farther down the concourse. Stopping two doors down at a place Mulder had never heard of. 'Arden B." Oh, this place looked like it had possibilities and his mental meanderings returned. This time with a vengeance. But he was rudely interrupted when she was on the move again. "Where are we going? Don't you want to check out these windows?" His tone neutral, he hoped she wouldn't sense his interest. No such luck. "See something you like, Agent Mulder?" The quirky upturn of her lips made it harder for him to retain his mock-detached look. With practiced nonchalance, he draped an arm around her shoulder, drawing her closer as he pointed to the white, headless plastic forms, all sporting throw back 70s outfits. "I was just picturing you as a flower child or disco queen." His eyes had wandered over the 7 dress forms and settled on the one to his right. The one dressed in very low slung hip hugger, bell-bottom jeans and the gauzy white peasant blouse with the cleavage-baring neckline. He felt her fist connect with his biceps as she 'explained' that she would never have been a 'disco queen' although the image of flower child held a certain appeal. She gazed up at him trying to follow his eyes to see which outfit held his attention. "What is it about that one that you like?" "Where do you want me to start? Maybe the hip-hugging jeans?" "They're called, 'hip-huggers'." "Like I said, 'hip-hugging' jeans, or the low-cut, tummy-baring top? Need I go on?" His arm around her shoulder grew tighter as he nudged her hip with his in demonstrated emphasis. Moving him from his obvious fixation, Scully posed a question, "Did you have a guitar, Mulder?" He noticed that she'd turned to look up at him, amusement flickering in her eyes. "Maybe you were into the Retro 70s movement as a teen? And that guitar had a peace sign strap?" She prompted. "Do I look like I was ever a hippie?" was his answer, a matching twinkle in his own eyes. Her questions had only temporarily derailed the images percolating in his head as he looked at the mannequin. <> His mind's eye continued its journey to <> Her elbow lightly jabbing him in the ribs got his attention. "Mulder?" "Huh? What?" "Where were you just now?" Leaning down to plant a kiss in her hair, the images continued. <> "Mulder!" Her look of concern and his flushed face were a matched set. He actually burst out laughing -- busted as he was. "I'm ok, Scully. I was just thinking about you." At her puzzled look, he leaned in, the tip of his tongue wetting her bottom lip. "Mulder? Do you have a fever?" All she knew was that her core temperature had suddenly shot up a few degrees and his cheeks reflected how she now felt. ~*$**$**$**$*~ End Part 1 ~*$**$**$**$*~ Part 2, Please keep all headers intact as posted in Part 1 They continued past the other shops and specialty carts, one or the other occasionally stopping to ask the cost of an item or to show something to the other. It was Scully's turn to be dragged off course and she found herself staring up at the white oval sign with the dark blue lettering announcing the 'Speedo Authentic Fitness' shop. Attempting to pull her firmly rooted partner across the concourse wasn't working. "Oh no you don't, Mulder. I thought we'd been through this speedo phase and decided--" He cut her off with, "You didn't like my red speedo? I heard that the clerical pool was placing bets on who would be lucky enough to see me in it." His smugness was exceeded only by his accuracy. There had been quite the wagering pool at the time -- and only she herself had had the pleasure of seeing him in the infamous speedos. But only because he'd later insisted on wearing them the first time they'd gone swimming together. "As 'hot'? As I'm sure you thought you looked, I prefer to leave a little something to the imagination." She let his hand go, but he was right behind her, crowding her, running right into her. Showing her evidence of what she wanted 'left to the imagination'. "You're downright incorrigible, Mulder." Not missing a beat, he replied, "And you're downright hot, Agent Scully." ~*$**$**$**$*~ Efficiently extricating herself, she moved them back toward the center gallery where the four walkways converged and then split to direct the flow of visitors to hotels or main streets outside the shopping galleries. "I'm getting hungry, Scully," Mulder stated as he brought her hand to his sweater, "So hungry that you can 'feel' my stomach grumbling." "I can't feel anything but your shirt, Mulder, but if you're hungry, we can get something to eat." She pulled her hand away after patting his stomach for good measure. She headed straight ahead and left toward the California Pizza Kitchen. While he headed straight ahead and right toward The Sweet Factory. "That is dessert, not lunch." Trying to steer him back across the tiled walk wasn't working. Not when his attention was focused on the plate glass floor to ceiling windows that clearly displayed the plexi-glass candy dispensers. Row upon colorful row of Jelly Bellies, gumdrops, and assorted gummy animals interspersed with milk and dark chocolate bark, bridge mix and sundry enrobed goodies. Any child's dream. Squinting her eyes, debating, she nonetheless followed him on his quest for a sugar high. He moved to the back wall, taking a clear and blue striped plastic bag from the stack. Before she could ask him what he had selected, she saw the blue scoop digging in to the multi-colored gummy bears. "Those won't fill you up." The hands on her hips told him exactly what she thought of his choice, but that wasn't about to stop him from filling the bag. "Have you ever tried them?" Thankfully, the tiny shop was empty except for the sales staff at the front, allowing him to bring a few chewy and sticky candies to her mouth. "Open up, Scully." His eyes fixed intently on her mouth; his fingers poised centimeters from her lips. When he saw that she wasn't listening very well, his other hand grasped her wrist, the half-full bag dangling from his hand. Her smirk evident, she nonetheless opened her mouth as she fixed him with her stare. The tiny moist shapes stuck to his fingers, making it difficult for him to place them in her mouth. But, calling upon years of teamwork, she decided to help him accomplish his goal and pursed her lips over his fingers, drawing them and the confection into her mouth. Totally lost in the sensation of her tongue caressing his fingers, Mulder let go of the blue striped bag, spilling its contents on the shiny floor. That action, however, attracted much less attention than his moan as she sucked his fingers further into her mouth. Both Agents decided they had probably created enough of a public stir and quickly exited the store. Doing his civic duty, Mulder stopped on the way out to leave a twenty with the sales staff for the downed gummies. "Still hungry, partner?" Scully shot him a glance that told him she was as effected by the little scene in the candy store as he was. Their afternoon browsing the shops was developing into an exercise in self-restraint. "I think I can wait till dinner, Mulder, but I do want to get something to drink." Now carrying the Body Shop brown handle bag and his Sweet Shop striped bag, Mulder placed his left hand on her right shoulder, guiding her up the steps to the over-the-street enclosed walkway to the Marriott Gallery of Shops. "I'll buy you a lemonade from the lounge." ~*$**$**$**$*~ Iced tea and lemonade in hand, they proceeded to the escalator taking them up to the Gallery. As Scully wandered over to the Tiffany display windows sipping on her tart drink, Mulder gravitated to the windows on the right. Glancing around to locate his partner, he spied her at the slate gray facade with the small square viewing windows. Wondering for all of about ten seconds whether it would be rude to call to her across the mauve marble concourse, he simple spoke her name. It was enough to get her attention without attracting others. She turned to see him standing at the large storefront windows with the large read lettering above. "'Bally's', Mulder?" She was eyeing the Armani Exchange next door knowing just how well her partner filled out a suit. How much she'd love to help him try something on. Like a fine pair of light-weight worsted wool, flat front trousers that would drape and hug him in all the right places.... She wondered what caught his eye until she saw the slight leering expression. She blinked several times as she pushed her navy velvet headband back from her forehead. "What're you looking at?" As if she didn't already know. "What do you think of the two women's suits, Scully?" He'd already drained his iced tea and walked to the trash receptacle with feigned casualness. He turned to watch her as she checked out the two different female dress forms. Arms crossed in front of her chest, the clear plastic lemonade cup in her right hand, her weight shifted to one hip. Her navy slacks falling quite nicely over her hips. His eyes traveled upward to the white, long-sleeved angora sweater that hugged her like a second skin, the kitteny furriness floating over her curves. Aware of his presence, that he was looking her over from head to toe, she could feel his gaze. And didn't mind it one bit. Reveled in the sheer heat of it. She was sure he was checking to see if she'd choose the same suit he had. "You chose the red leather, didn't you, Mulder?" Seamlessly, she unfolded her arms to hand him her now empty cup before he'd even reached her side. He just shook his head, amused at just how often they operated without words, and deposited it after his own. "Just look at it, Scully. It's you." "It's not 'me', Mulder. It's the wrong shade of red for my hair; much too lipstick red." He moved behind her and wrapped both arms around her once again, loosely holding her to him. "Oh, I don't know. You wear most clothing well." Her head butting him in the chin as she looked up, she asked, "Just 'most', Mulder? What don't I wear well?" But he was already elsewhere, his partner's face superimposing itself on the white glossy mannequin. The lifeless limbs suffused with flesh and blood. "I take it back, Scully, you wear everything and nothing with equal aplomb." ~*$**$**$**$*~ His whispered words seemed to drift over her and she was curious over his mood. He'd been lighthearted and playful, but also with an undercurrent. Something a bit…more serious? More sensual? Her thoughts were interrupted when she felt his thumb and forefinger on her earlobe. "The red leather suit, for instance," his lips were close enough, but not quite, touching the shell of her ear, "would fit you like a calfskin glove. But I'd remove the jacket." She squirmed involuntarily, leaning back into him. "The matching red tee would stretch over you, but you'd have to be braless." At that, she twisted slightly, her right brow arching upward. "Really, Mulder. Where would I go without a bra under that shirt? It's extremely sheer." Turning her back to face the window and resuming his earlier position, he told her, "Exactly." She briefly recalled there were people milling around them, but she noticed they seemed to be paying them very little attention. Which was a good thing, because she seemed to have very little attention to pay them, either, since Mulder's words were having quite the effect on her. Had he just said that he wanted to see her in a bright red, sheer, stretch shirt with no bra underneath? Her nipples tightened in affirmation. And he noted the response to his words through the thin fluffy, knit of her sweater. "Does that turn you on as much as it does me, Scully?" In a hushed tone that barely qualified as anything much more than a breathy sigh, she told him it did, her hands clutching his forearms as they enveloped her. "It would be tucked into the buttery soft and skin tight leather pants that sit right here," his hand traveled to just below her navel, "and hugged you right about here." The same hand smoothed over her hip and followed the line of her outer thigh. "Mulder, you do see the other people all around us, don't you? I mean, you're aware that we're not in some time warp that has suspended us from reality?" His chuckle sent a warm breath through her hair and tickled her neck. "Of course I see them, Scully. But I also see that leather." "Leather fetish? I never knew." "There's probably a not a lot you don't know," he purred. She was intrigued and finding it more difficult to keep up her end of this strange conversation. "Like what?" "Like the fact that I've always wondered what you'd look like in really spiky heels -- and leather with maybe a pair of handcuffs." "You've seen me with handcuffs." "Don't interrupt me; this is my fantasy. With handcuffs and maybe a whip." "A whip, Mulder?" "A whip, Scully." ~*$**$**$**$*~ She was intrigued; intrigued and rather hot and just a little wet and by the somewhat obvious and insistent feel of Imagination Mulder behind her, he was equally hot. The arched eyebrow accompanied her smirk. "What do I do with my toys?" "Oh, this is where it gets good. First you cuff my hands behind my back." "You let me?" Her surprise evident. "I do." The strolling senior couple regarded what appeared to be a pair of starry-eyed lovers with tolerant amusement. Only momentarily distracted, Scully asked, "What does all this have to do with that rather conservative looking red suit?" Repositioning himself against her ass and lower back, the subtle sway of his hips wasn't lost on her as he switched to her other ear and spoke, "That's just it, Scully; it only *looks* conservative. But, when you stop and really think about it, red is anything but sedate and conservative. It's more the cut of the suit juxtaposed with the color. Think about it, red is volatility, it's Mars, the Red Planet." The slightest quirk of her eyebrow and she was trying to set him back on course; moving him toward making his point. If there *was* a point to be made. "The Red Planet, very seductive in its heat." "I wouldn't call temperature ranges from -67 to 80 degrees 'seductive'." "Just go with me on this one, Scully." "It's not working for me. Mars was named for the Roman God of War. How does that connect back to 'seductive' and red leather?" She eyed him suspiciously. "Make it good, Mulder, or we're moving on to the next shop." "Ah, but you're forgetting one little known fact, partner. Mars was first named for Ares, the Greek god of agriculture. Planting, fertility. Now do you see where I'm going with this?" 'Oh, yes', she thought. 'I see' very well. "You came up with all of this because of the suit in the window?" Just as suddenly as his narration had begun, it ended and he moved away from her, causing her to nearly topple from the sudden lack of support. He crossed to the shop windows, moving to one side of the display, his hip leaning into the cinnamon granite wall and out of the main path of passers-by. The object of all his attention seemed just a bit startled by his departure and also a little bothered. Hot and bothered. He decided he liked that look on her very much. Hot and bothered Scully was a lot of fun to play with. ~*$**$**$**$*~ End Part 2 ~*$**$**$**$*~ Part 3. Please keep all headers intact as noted in Part 1 With the crook of his finger, he beckoned her, noticing that she fought a losing battle to maintain a neutral expression. She seemed to be enjoying herself just as much as he was -- except he was willing to admit it. He smiled as she appeared in front of him, resting her back against the window and hooking her booted heel over the low brass rail. Her hands lay on her thighs. "You were saying, Mulder?" "I can say it better if you stand over here, closer to me." "Try harder -- I'm staying right here." "You're no fun." Her arms crossed in front of her. And he capitulated. "Ok. So I'm cuffed, my hands behind my back. You walk around me and I can see how your ass moves beneath the tight leather, your legs looking long and shapely as you strut with impudence in those sexy heels." He paused; raking a hand through his hair, his eyes intently focused on her. Taking in his pose, arms crossed, one hip jutting away from the wall, as his shoulder supported him against the cool marble. She noted the slight downward tilt of his head, how his hair fell over his forehead, making it appear as if he were looking up at her from eyes that held a secret between him and her. A very provocative secret. One she wanted him to finish sharing with her. And she stepped a little closer, no longer needing to actually 'see' the particular red outfit that had started him down this sex-fantasy road. "Tell me more." The want and need in her voice softly spoken but clearly communicated. The distance between them less than one foot, neither touching, gazes locked. "I watch your eyes as--" "I'm wearing *that* and you're 'watching my eyes'? You're losing your touch, G-Man." Taking another step toward her, his hands by his sides and then in his pockets, she can see his breath catch in his chest beneath the tan ribbed cotton knit crew neck. "Don't think so, Scully. I watch your eyes as you draw closer. While the ever-darkening crystal blue is enticing, the hard points of your nipples so clearly defined beneath the very thin and stretchy red tee are what really catch my attention. Especially because they're now level with my eyes." He watches her lips part and her tongue slip out to wet the lower. Hears her faint attempt to make him believe she isn't just as aroused as he is when she tells him to 'do go on'. He complies and continues. ~*$**$**$**$*~ "Since I'm cuffed, I can't do what I'd really like to do, so I go for door #2, Vanna." "Vanna?" The question is barely audible. Ignoring her jab, he steps back and she follows. "Maybe we should move this elsewhere, Mulder." Her furtive glances reveal only that no one seems to be paying them much attention. He shakes his head, telling her 'here is just fine'. "Since you're already right in my face, your spiked heel between my legs on the chair--" His eyes light up his recitation. "When did that happen, Mulder?" The amused glint in her eyes elicits a grin from him. "You're interrupting me again. This is my story, remember?" "How could I forget?" Arms crossed in front of her once again, her chin jutting forward, she challenges him to continue. "Annyyway, your spiked heel is between my legs, the pointed toe of the shoe rather close to my very obvious erection…" He notes that she follows his word to his fly. "...So very close to my erection that I squirm. You lean one hand on my shoulder and my lips latch onto your nipple, right through the thin fabric, my teeth then gently tugging..." "I think we should get going, Mulder." She's panting and draws her arms up higher where she knows the evidence of just how much she's getting into his story is blatant. she thinks. In a movement best described as a quiet and smooth flurry, he grasps one wrist away from her, draws her very close and brushes her fingers against the rather tented front of his trousers. A small smirk appears as she cops a brief feel and then turns to walk away. ~*$**$**$**$*~ In the direction of one of his favorite shops, or rather, catalogues. Victoria's Secret. Classy women models showing off Secret Scully Clothes. Oh yes, since they'd been able to explore the more intimate side of their relationship, he'd showered her with some very nice little lingerie gifts. Well, they ended up being gifts for him too.... So, he followed her without protest. But she was moving away toward the Newsstand. He had to divert her. Not wanting to actually break out into a run, he did a combination fast walk/shuffle that had him by her side just in time to reach for her hand and nudge her left. Out of the wide archway of the magazine and newspaper emporium. "Mulder, I wanted to pick up a magazine." Releasing his hand, she started to turn. Only to find his arm around her shoulders whisking her back toward the cream colored windows. "I'll buy you any magazines you want later. Besides, why would you need reading material when you have me by your side? For a whole weekend?" The mischievous gleam in his eyes hadn't really dissuaded her. "Exactly. However, since you're being so nice, I'll indulge you one more time." Truth be told, she wasn't sure just how much longer she could indulge him. The man had more capacity to spin creative fantasies than anyone she'd ever known. He was the poster child for the phrase, 'think outside the box'. He is his very own new paradigm.... And he was turning her on, ratcheting up her arousal. With his voice. With his story-telling. And with his touches. Touches that were growing publicly bolder. He was standing behind her, his hands on her shoulders, almost an arm's length away. But she could still feel his presence. She waited; knowing the next narration was about to begin. Theater of the Mind. Mulder's Mind. With a decidedly sexy slant. "You'd wear that, wouldn't you, Scully?" Hmm. A new style. Of fantasy. Of clothing. She tilted her head to one side, considering, evaluating. "I would." The tawny chestnut satin with just the barest hint of gold shimmer. Classy. The drape of the very low cascading neckline that would pool between her breasts, the barely there spaghetti straps. "Why?" She heard the genuine inquiry and imagined his serious, considering face. He was considering the very tailored waist on those tap pants. With the mid-thigh to nearly-waist slit. Just enough slit to show plenty of her firm, translucent skin. But, before she could formulate her answer, he supplied it. "Because it's functional as well as sexy. You would wear the top under a suit, maybe. And those short, slit boxers, well," he moved a few steps closer, needing to touch, to connect, "you'd probably wear them under your suit skirt in the warmer weather. Without any pantyhose or nylons." His voice had that low, dusky quality that she associated with a rather turned on Mulder. "Why wouldn't I wear any pantyhose or nylons?" She'd started whispering. He found it rather telling. She was losing control as quickly as he was. He hoped there weren't many other shop windows between here and the hotel. Any hotel. "Because you'd know I wanted easy access." Oh. Well, who was she to deny him access -- any kind of access? Scully considered the possibility of a direct correlation between his physical proximity to her and the rise in her core body temperature. She determined it was a positive correlation, a direct one-one correspondence. If he drew any closer, she had the distinct impression that spontaneous combustion would be a serious consideration. She wondered idly how many actual, documented cases of such a phenomenon existed. Well, there was always a first time for everything. She'd barely realized he was talking to her. "What?" "I said, wouldn't you want to give me access?" He was actually leering. Not that she hadn't seen him leer before, but coupled with the fact that he was also sporting quite the fashionable wood, the look took on new dimensions. "Maybe we should try another shop...." Tugging at his hand wasn't working. She was dealing with Hooked on an Idea Mulder. A rather dangerous, in a most exciting way, version of Forming an Idea Mulder. ~*$**$**$**$*~ Their hands clasped, he headed for the entryway, walking into the mauve carpeted display area. "You need to have that outfit from the window, Scully." A statement of fact, plain and simple. She turned to gaze up at him amidst the clothes hangers artfully arranged around them. "I don't think I'm going to ask you why I *need* it because it's rather obvious. But really, Mulder, you don't have to." She knew he didn't have to, that he wanted to and she was touched. While she sometimes felt slightly embarrassed by the various and sundry gifts he bought her, she had to admit his taste was impeccable. And, that they were often items she might not buy for herself even though she might covet them. Like the tap pants and camisole in the window. Taking her elbow and guiding her to the wall display, they passed the myriad satins and silks in tasteful gem colors and spring pastels and shaded neutrals, each rounder holding some of the sleekest and most sophisticatedly sexy lingerie he'd seen. Outside the catalogue. He was planning on seeing it very soon on Scully. Woman of many subtly striking moods and looks. All of them devastatingly beautiful. She watched as he surveyed the upper rack where the camisoles hung by color and size, his arms crossed, his face a study in concentration. He drew the mere slip of tawny satin from the bar. Holding it up in front of her by the taupe rayon padded hangar arm, he angled it this way and that, the fabric shimmering and slinking in the artificial lighting, finally deciding it was exactly the right size. She took it from him, smiling at his uncanny ability that really wasn't so uncanny since she knew he'd checked her lingerie drawer. Seeing her small smile, he surmised he'd chosen correctly and bent toward the lower rack to find the camisole's mate. After handing it to her, he spun her in the direction of the sales desk. When the saleswoman asked Scully if she wanted to take the two-piece set, Mulder shook his head. "She'd like to try them on first." Scully knew that tone. Gently imperative. Meant to charm. "That's all right," she told him, turning to the woman, "I'll just have them wrapped." One glance at his face told her that was the wrong answer. And that he had something else in mind entirely. That he didn't really need to know whether the fit would be right because he already knew that, as she did. Smiling at the solicitous saleswoman, Mulder sidled up to his partner, leaning close enough for her to hear his sotto voce imploring her to try it on for him. Victoria's Secret Sales Associate Vivian suddenly discovered a smudge on her black patent pumps in need of close observation. Mulder noted that Scully's protestations were rather weak, telling him that she just needed a good reason to try on that which she already knew would fit her perfectly. He decided to give her that reason. Thankful that most of the Sunday shoppers had decided they were not in dire need of sensual little nothings, he took a step closer to his partner. A step close enough to let her experience the nicely formed ridge in his chocolate wool trousers. Pressed insistently into the softness of her belly. Discreetly, of course. "Is that a good enough reason, Scully?" Her pursed lips and raised brow her failing attempt at rebuke; she drew in a sharp breath and stepped away from him. Taking the garments, she asked Vivian the way to the dressing rooms. Mulder followed like a feline on a catnip trail. He was sure he heard her mutter, "That's your reason for almost everything," but didn't bother asking for confirmation. Leaving him with the blue-striped candy bag, and the bag containing her foot creme, she watched him fold himself into the pastel brocade side chair just outside the slatted swinging doors to the changing area. The chair barely contained his lanky frame. Dropping the small brown bag, he set the candy down in his lap, allowing the plastic covered gummies to serve as camouflage. His hands clasped and resting on the bag wedged the small, soft gel snack animals between the heat of his hands and the pulsing heat in his pants, creating a merging of multi-colored confection bears. Meanwhile... ~*$**$**$**$*~ End Part 3 ~*$**$**$**$*~ Part 4. Please keep all headers intact as noted in Part 1 Scully turned around in the soothingly decorated dressing room, the piped in Euro-New Wave music floating through the speakers. The eggshell watered silk wall covering was edged with alabaster wainscoting and served as a backdrop for the gilt-edged floor to ceiling mirrors on two walls. A low, wide tapestry upholstered bench seat lined the third wall. Soft light emanated from the upturned frosted fixtures, giving a somewhat rosy and suffused glow to the room. This wasn't a dressing room, she mused, it was a fancy boudoir. A fantasy boudoir. Hanging the two items on the wall hooks, she stepped out of her boots, setting them aside, her socks pooling around her slim ankles. Unzipping them, she let the navy-lined slacks slide from her hips. She folded the pants, placing them on the bench cushions. Scully took a rare minute of self-inspection, her hands on her hips. Seeing herself.... Trying to see herself as he saw her; especially this afternoon. She studied the way the soft sweater clung to her curves, the baby fine ribbing at her waist ending several inches above the slight dip in the waist band of her panties. The length of her legs as they flowed to her...tweed socks. And she shook her head, laughing. Time to try on Mulder's outfit. She shook her head at her own manner of thinking about the set. Unclipping the tap pants from the hanger, she bent down, lifting one foot and then the other, drawing the satin up her legs and over her hips. She turned in profile, noting how the tailored slits draped on her upper thigh, almost reaching the covered elastic waist and definitely showing her panty line. She smoothed her hands over them and then crossed her arms at her waist, grasping the ribbed edge of her sweater. Mulder was restless and the lack of foot-tapping music wasn't helping. He had an itch that needed to be scratched. A Scully Itch. Dropping the bag of gummy bears into the chair and setting the other on the floor, he looked around, noting that Vivian and the other Sales Associates were discussing the latest in cleavage producing bras at the desk. His luck held out as he also noted that he and Scully appeared to be the only late afternoon customers. He approached the swinging slatted doors and pushed them open, feeling somewhat like a cowboy in the Old West entering a Saloon. Only the Barmaid wasn't decked out in billowing skirts and a bustier. Letting the doors flop back toward one another silently, on well-oiled hinges, he turned right and headed to the changing room on the end. As he drew closer, he could see her arms over her head, the angora wrapped around her and she pulled the top off. She was a vision. But for some reason, he felt like he was intruding and stepped back, out of what would be her line of vision. That didn't mean he hadn't noticed the slim sweep of her skin below her bra strap and over her ribs to her tiny waist and then to the swell of her hips as the deep cocoa of the bottoms fell against her. He paused his image replay right there knowing that he wasn't sure how much more restraint he had left in him. The sweater joined her slacks in an airy heap before she unclasped her bra. She needed to see the full effect.... Dropping the straps from her shoulders, she tossed the garment onto the bench and reached for the camisole. Mulder thought that this afternoon hadn't been about window shopping, really. And he could appreciate the art of fancy shopping just like the next person. But this had been something else. Downtime with Scully. With a woman who met him on so many levels and drove him nearly out of his mind with want and love and desire and...lust. That familiar stirring in his loins was back. Probably had never gone away. Sure he'd given her enough time to finish dressing, he called out to her, "Scully, you decent?" Her tone playfully chastising, she whispered, "Mulder, what are you doing in here?" "I think you already know the answer, so get your cute little butt out here and let me see you model my purchase." One hip thrust to the side, he leaned against the alabaster walls in the hallway right outside her changing room, his face a picture of rapt attention. She'd removed the headband when the velvet caught in the sweater. It looked like bedroom hair to Mulder. He loved Scully bedroom hair. Soft, waves-tossed. The sight of her body in that nearly not-there outfit took his breath away and sent all the blood from his formerly thinking brain straight to his groin. Mulder, Jr. wanted in on this party. Finding some semblance of his voice, he instructed her to turn around for him, noting the heated flush that rose from where the satin pooled in her cleavage up her neck and across her face. It made her eyes sparkle. Dangerously. The view from the rear was alluring. The way her hair fell between her shoulder blades the soft creamy color of her skin exposed by the low back of the camisole. The fall of the pants over her ass stopping just below where her thighs joined her hips. "Turn again, Scully." His voice this time was barely audible, flowing over her like molasses, coating her as she felt the warmth settle low in her belly. She swept her hair off her shoulders unconsciously, her arms hanging by her sides looking for all the world as if she had no idea what to do with them. "What do you think?" Her words drifted to him although they'd been spoken nearly as quietly as his. "I think that your nipples are just begging to be touched. By me." When had he closed the distance between them, she wondered. And when had she backed into the alcove formed by the three-way mirror behind her? And while she was mentally posing questions, when had his thumb started massaging her nipple through the fluttery fabric? ~*$**$**$**$*~ He braced himself with one arm above her head, leaning into the mirror. *This* would not have been happening several months ago. This closeness, this comfort with their intimacy that allowed them to give in to a whim. To be turned on. To turn each other on to such a state that their surroundings became secondary. Or only serving to heighten their experience. Sure, one might say that this was his game, but her eyes told him all he needed to know. She was on his team, front and center. She took his breath away -- at once stunningly provocative and enticingly innocent. All wrapped up in shimmery satin decorating silky skin. His index and middle fingers tilted her chin up as he gazed down into the depths of her eyes. Their connection and the seductive smile curling her lips told him what he wanted to know. Allowing his hand to slide down the mirror, he bent toward her. Slowly. He'd tried before, but couldn't really express exactly what it was about closing that short distance from separate to together that was so alluring. How her eyes flitted from his eyes to his lips and back again several times. How she parted her lips barely enough to allow the tip of her tongue to trace the arc of her lower lip and even when her tongue retreated her lips remained poised in invitation. An invitation to brush her lips with his. Time returned to its usual pace. She felt the electric zing when the soft/firm touch of him grazed her mouth. And when his bent knee parted her thighs, her socks slid on the carpeting. But it was the touch of his thumb on her already aching nipples that caused her to moan. She seemed to do a lot of moaning around him lately. And groaning and whimpering. She was a virtual symphony of previously unplayed sounds. Her hands reached for the neckline of his pullover, seeking to deepen their lip lock. It was his turn to groan when he felt her arch in his hands that cupped her breasts. Overwhelming sensation. Frenzied sparks against languid waves. And a slight recollection that they weren't exactly in the privacy of either apartment.... Mulder's lips slipped off hers with nearly the same touch he'd used to greet her. The breath of his whisper did nothing to staunch the wetness she was beginning to feel. "God, Scully. I really love how this fits you." They both laughed. "Mulder, we need to get out of here. Now." He responded to the urgency in her tone, feeling the same urgency straining in his trousers. Forcing himself to step back from her, his eyes raked over her one final time before he turned. His parting words, tossed her way over his shoulder, had her quirking an eyebrow at him...as she grinned. "Love the socks, Scully. They turn me on." ~*$**$**$**$*~ Folding her bra in with the matching lingerie set, Scully slid her headband back into her hair and headed out to the sales desk. She caught site of Mulder who was already completing the sale, his credit card in Vivian's hand. The small bag of candy somehow managed to look both cute and absurd in his hand. Her bemused grin went unnoticed. But the fact that Mulder's nose wasn't the only part of his body in sharp profile as she approached the counter was very noticeable. She hoped Vivian was as skilled with the credit card purchases as she'd been with ushering her to the dressing room. The polished Sales Associate didn't even bat an eyelash at the customer's bra neatly tucked in between the camisole and tap pants. But Mulder noticed the hardened buds that formed two small points in the soft fluff of her sweater. Neither noticed the Saleswomen's knowing smiles as they left the shop, the tall handsome man carrying the glossy pink handle bag and the blue and white striped Sweet Factory bag of gummies. ~*$**$**$**$*~ The Marriott Hotel Later Sunday Afternoon When Scully shook her head indicating that no, she did not need to get a magazine from The Newsstand, Mulder looked relieved. He'd remembered how he'd wanted to divert her from her errand in order to get to Victoria's Secret and felt it only fair to offer to stop there now. He wasn't quite sure where they were headed, but he knew it had to be close by and it had to be now. The fact that the little red-haired minx next to him kept butting her hip into him wasn't helping him one little bit. To top it off, he was making a valiant effort to keep his eyes averted from her rather perky breasts in that much too soft and thin white sweater. They jiggled with her movements. In a most titillating and tantalizing manner.... He wanted to back her into the granite Plaza walls and nuzzle his face against her until she dropped the shopping bag and begged him to unzip her pants. Then he'd drop his bags and lap at her through the sweater while his fingers made a beeline for the sure-to-be wet crotch of her panties. "Mulder? Hello? Mulder?" It took him several seconds to register the fact that she had stopped moving and was trying to get his attention. Already at the escalator threshold, he skidded to a halt. "Sorry, Scully. What were you saying?" He felt as if he'd just run a marathon...sprinting. She read him well, knew he was experiencing that same heady rush of adrenaline. Heart pounding, breath coming in short pants, skin flushed, certain anatomical locations on full alert. "I was just asking you how far away the car was, but I think I remember. It's way too far." Focusing on the fine art of conversation, he raked his hand through his hair and then crossed his arms over his chest. "Forget the car, Scully. If I remember correctly, the Marriott's right down the escalator. What do you think the chances are of them having a room?" She could tell he liked the hotel idea. It wasn't so much the rather leering smile on his face or the glint in his eyes as much as the way he stepped just a bit closer to her. So she could feel his tightly coiled energy full force. Oh, she'd like to harness some of that energy. Cradle it right between her legs. "We're never going to know until we get down there. Move it, Mulder." Walking ahead of him, she stepped onto the moving stairway, the large plate glass window in front of them providing a view of the city was entirely lost on them. He was in a hurry. The fact that he tried his best to join her on her moving step was the dead give-away. Realizing it would be almost physically impossible, he settled for invading her space from the step above, his hands on her shoulders, the now combined into one bag bouncing in her hand. She glanced up and back, knowing he'd read her eyebrow raise correctly, making it unnecessary for her to verbally tell him to relax. She softened her expression with a small smile. Mulder spotted the sign for the hotel lounge to the left as they disembarked, guiding her through the crowd at the coffee bar. "I don't see the Registration Desk." "It's down one more floor. This way." She was pretty sure that had there been fewer people milling around, he might have broken out into a run, tugging her along behind him, his longer legs striving to make short work of the distance between them and release. "Mulder, slow down, the escalator to the lobby is right here." In his haste, they'd nearly overshot it. This time, he stood next to her, needing the contact, his arm tightly around her waist. It felt divine, but was not enough. Turning into him, she hooked her index finger in his back belt loop, bringing their bodies closer. Knowing that if she let her hand drop just a little, it would rest on his ass. That would be dangerous. That would be wonderful. Maybe they should pick up the pace a little. Luckily, they were two of only five people standing along the velvet stanchions and they were called quickly. "We'd like a room, please." "Do you have reservations?" The Clerk smiled, all business. "Uh, no, we don't." Scully could hear the small tinge of tension creeping into Mulder's voice. "Do you want one or two rooms, Sir?" Scully decided to assist her partner, cover his back. And what a fine back it was, she mused from her position. "That would be one room, please. Make it a single. One night." She concluded, deftly anticipating the Reservationist's questions and facilitating their check-in. Mulder reached for his credit card, handing Scully the Victoria's Secret bag in the process. Setting the card on the counter, he moved her in front of him, on arm wrapped around her waist again. Gritting her teeth, she stifled what would have been a rather embarrassing whimper. If she'd thought he was aroused before, she hadn't seen anything yet. Insistent and hard, she felt the ridge of him pressing into her hip and lower back and the slight shift of his hips as his body sought the contact almost of its own accord. Trying to extricate herself wasn't a possibility given his iron-clad grip on her. "That will be $172.50, Mr. Mulder." Barely listening and waiting for the slip to sign, he bent to Scully's ear. "Maybe we should register as Mr. and Mrs. Fletcher." She would have pushed him away if he barest touch of his lips on the shell of her ear didn't feel so damn hot. Scully caught the carefully hidden lip curl of the woman behind the counter as the new guests turned toward the elevators--with no luggage save two shopping bags. ~*$**$**$**$*~ End Part 4 ~*$**$**$**$*~ Part 5. Please keep all headers intact as noted in Part 1 Oooafff... The wind was literally knocked out of her once the doors whoosed closed. Using the momentum of their forward movement and his hold on her, Mulder swung Scully around in front of him as he hit the back wall of the elevator. Then he remembered neither of them had punched in the '27' for their floor. He splurged, surprised that the hotel had an open suite. An upgrade. Gratis. Such extravagance. She had but scant seconds to contemplate how much she loved him for it. Only because he had bent her back, one hand cradling her skull, the other caressing her cheek, his fingers alternating between her ear and her hair, as his mouth devoured her. Although she still gripped the Body Shop bag, he had dropped his larger one unceremoniously at their feet. The twin sensations of the friction of the fluffy fibers against her bare breasts and her partner's hard as nails erection pushing into her belly had her breathless. The Peppermint Foot Cream rolled on the floor as shopping bag met floor and all bets were off. Mulder mock-yelped into her mouth when her hands gained purchase on his ass, trying to meld their lower bodies. "Scully, God.Gotta...." "Shut up, Mulder. I need your mouth." Always or almost always the obedient partner, he lapped at her upper lip before crushing her to him and reversing their positions. Her back against the wall, he lifted her bent leg, trying to wrap it around his hip, opening her, allowing him to thrust against her. Scully wasn't quite sure what to do with her hands. There were just too many parts of this extremely horny man to touch and grope and.... She registered the feeling of his hot palm up under her sweater, covering her breast, his fingers plucking at her nipple. The 'ding' notifying them that they had reached their destination seemed to have little effect. Trying to either raise her or lower himself, Mulder humped her as if they were in the backseat of his high school car. He was starving. She was his nourishment and he couldn't get enough. As always, she sounded the voice of reason. Even if that 'reason' was far less coherent than usual. "Muhl...Mulder," the second time was the charm, "room; get to...our room, please...." God she loved the look on his face at the height of passion. Unsated passion. A wonderful combination of eyes burning fever bright around darkened and dilated pupils, lips swollen, imminently kissable, his skin flushed. And, her eyes moving lower, his ramrod erection pulsing against the trousers. Summoning some unknown reserve for intelligible speech, he asked, "Scully, would you laugh if I started singing 'Love in an Elevator'?" ~*$**$**$**$*~ She was wearing him like a second skin. Or at least he was attempting to cover every available inch of her with his body. While they walked down the hall to their suite. His behavior made walking imminently difficult and incredibly arousing. And certainly gave a new meaning to the term, 'partnership'. The phrase 'joined at the hip' also came to mind, except she hoped he'd wait for the door to close behind them before he tried that maneuver. Oh, how she wanted to be joined, her hips to his. "Mulder, you're going to trip me." Pulling her into a bear hug from behind, he lapped at her ear, his tongue first laving her lobe and then darting inside. "You want me to stop, Scully?" "What are my other choices?" She tried to turn around to face him, but his rather solid presence didn't allow for more than a hair's breadth between them. "Well, I could bend over you a little more and then pull you into me." "We've already tried that particular move. Be more creative." Her slight laugh could be felt by both and belied her monotone delivery. She could see their suite straight ahead. "Well, Ms. Smarty Pants, have we tried this?" He knew she was about to nod when his hand pushed her sweater up high enough to allow him access, but when his knuckles rubbed her low on the front of her pants he knew he'd won some points for creativity. "Ahhh....Oh, Mulder. Damnit!" "I take it you liked my manly demonstration of creative moves?" ~*$**$**$**$*~ One of them had to get the door open. Fast. Scully had the key card in her hand, but couldn't seem to decide how to insert it. When she managed to locate the slot and leaned forward to slide the card, Mulder's tongue found the little spot behind her ear he loved to taste. "Ahhh. Mmmmm." The key dropped to the carpet. Untangling herself from her partner, his hand leaving a warm trail from her breast to her hip, Scully plucked the card from the carpet and slid it quickly in, then out before Mulder had a chance to reattach himself to her. The green light in the sliver door handle blinked and Scully depressed it, swinging the door open. She felt Mulder's arm up over her shoulder, ensuring that the door swung open far enough for both of them to enter. He succeeded in shoving it hard enough to slam into the wall inside. Barely noticing, Scully turned toward her partner, allowing herself to be backed into the set of rooms. Lit only by the late afternoon sun streaming in through the large floor to ceiling windows, the long hall entryway was bathed in shadows and natural light. Here and there, the rays glanced off the mirrored closet doors to Mulder's right. Scully let the Body Shop bag drop once again and then removed the matte pink bag from her partner's hand, letting it, too fall by their feet. ~*$**$**$**$*~ Ever the sensible one, she steadied herself, her palms resting on his chest, catching her breath. "Mulder?" Her eyes sought his, the question there mirroring the one in her voice. What she saw in his eyes said plenty. Charged heat. Barely restrained arousal. Desire. Intense desire. He found himself smirking -- just slightly. She really was amazing. She was just as blown away by the afternoon as he was and he was sure she wanted much more, too. He watched as her chest rose and fell beneath the garment that hugged and caressed her, yet also cast a most alluring veil over her very ripe breasts. He wanted to touch her there. Hell, he wanted to touch her everywhere. But, obviously quite satisfied with his (lack of) response, she moved first. Her hands had somehow managed to pull the hem of his top from his waistband and then find their way to his small nipples. As soon as he had managed to process that little bit of sensory overload, her nimble fingers were making hasty work of his belt. He found himself wondering just when that had happened. And realized it was probably just before he found his trousers pooled at his ankles. Not to mention Scully's barely there nails trailing up along the length of him through the silk of his boxers. Barely there nails changed to her very adept and warm hand cupping his sack as if she were testing its weight. And while his breath came in ever quickening pants, she first traced the silk covered steel of him and then somehow managed to sneak past the waistband to find him hot and throbbing and ready. "What do you think you're doing, Scully?" His words sounded as breathless as she felt and she wasn't sure if she could form a coherent answer. It wasn't solely about the control, although she acknowledged the heady feeling it gave her when she had it. It was also about watching him at her mercy, vulnerable, wanting. Wanting her. Her touch drawing him deeper into the spiraling depths of his arousal. Focusing again, Scully's soft honeyed voice told him, "I'm having a little clothing fantasy of my own." "Oh yeah?" Barely a hoarse squeak. He glanced down to see her hand inside his boxers, to feel her doing the most incredibly and maddeningly arousing little stroke and thumb routine. Man, she had him. She had him good. There was something about the wicked little grin on her face, pinning him with her gaze, while she held fast to one of his most sensitive parts of his anatomy -- and one of his favorite parts, too. "Oh yeah. It's really very simple," she continued as she slowly began to slide the fluid silk down over his hips, "me...you. You without your pants." She paused, her eyes trailing down over his thighs, somewhat knobby knees, muscled calves and slender ankles. "Well, part of this vision has been realized -- and to finish it off -- you without your boxers." Now squatting at his feet, dusky blue eyes flitted up to his face; once they passed his rather prominently jutting erection. It made her more than a little breathless. ~*$**$**$**$*~ He understood what she wanted, but the feel of her fingers circling his ankles and probing his calves left his mind confused. It seemed that the somewhat chilled air of the suite was warring with the inferno originating somewhere north of his thighs and south of his navel. She was waging this war, but was definitely on the side of turning the inferno into a full-blown conflagration. On her knees, she reached back to pull off her ankle boots and socks, aware that Mulder's eyes were tracking her every movement. As she grasped his thighs coming to a standing position, he wrested control from her, seizing her by her upper arms, nearly dragging her to her feet. Wedging his now throbbing and twitching length between them. Scully's breath was knocked from her in a panting whoosh as his mouth descended over her, warm firm lips, hot questing tongue, sharp nipping teeth. Her arms remained pinned by her sides as he held her in place, her swollen lips crushing his, being crushed by his in return. The war had shape shifted. It was now a tsunami. His movements frenetically graceless, due in no small part to the clothing encumbrance at his ankles, he backed her into the mirrored closet doors, the waning sunlight reflecting in shattering images. Both sought to free him from the tangled clothing, Mulder toeing off his Cole-Haan loafers as he tried to step out of his boxers/trousers jumble and Scully trying to hook the items with her toes to push them away. Neither accomplished much. As the partners, now greedy with a shopping afternoon of barely contained and restrained lust, simultaneously bent to dislodge the offending fabric, their heads butted. But their laughter lessened the impact as Mulder succeeded in stepping out of the leg holes and tossing the clothes across the room. Forgotten. "Scully, you're not naked...." ~*$**$**$**$*~ Her bemused smirk lasted only long enough for the man wearing only his crew neck sweater, wool socks and a rather imposing hard-on to walk into her, once again pinning her to the glass. Before the words could leave her mouth, his large hands pawed at her sweater, shoving upward, exposing her breasts. Consumed with desire bordering on hunger, he bent forward and lapped at her nipples, their color darkening as they hardened under his ministrations. His thumbs drew lazy circles on the outside of her breasts as his mouth teased first one, then the other, tight, hard peak. Tingling sparks danced down his scalp as she clutched at his hair, holding fast and then releasing him. "Still not naked enough," he slipped her nipple from his mouth, his words feeling like vibrations against her. Not waiting for the response he knew probably wasn't coming, he brought his face up to hers, planting butterfly kisses on her eyelids, nose and chin. As he made quick work of the fastener and zipper on her slacks, her fingers dug into the arms of his sweater, trying to tug it from his body. When that tactic proved fruitless she bent forward, her arms threading through his to snag the hem of the garment. The fact that Mulder's hands were intent on freeing her from her slacks stifled her efforts. So she made a nearly conscious decision to go with the flow, the chilled air following her slacks down her quickly becoming bare thighs and calves, raising gooseflesh in their path. Had he stopped there, she might have renewed her efforts. But when his index fingers traced an simultaneous path around her waist and under the elastic waistband of her panties where it rode the swell of her ass, she arched forward. 'Mission accomplished', his smoky gaze and rather hungry grin a dead giveaway to his thought. The textured fibers of his pullover created a delicious friction as it rubbed and teased her aching breasts, her nipples seeking the soft/rough contact. She needed his mouth on her. On her turgid peaks. On her already sensitized skin. Anywhere. On her mouth. Now. But no matter how she tried to get her point across, he seemed intent on kneading her ass, his hands warm and firm and oh... oh so insistently probing. She couldn't decide. She wanted both. She had to tell him. "Mulder." It wasn't working. It could have been his warm breath in her ear or possibly his socks-covered toes tickling her ankle. More than likely, it was his very naked leg bent at the knee and wedged between hers while he tried to slide her satin panties down her body. "Mulder." He sighed. The woman did things to him when his name came from her lips with that tone. The one he wasn't sure just how to describe except in terms of the devastatingly erotic effect it had on him. "Scully." The only response she required. Other than his teeth now nipping at her lips before his tongue followed the line of her jaw and...he was quick. She seemed to be automatically stepping out of her panties while he suckled her nipples, pausing only long enough to move from one to the other. "Gonna fall, Mulder." Her words registered somewhere in his Scully-fogged brain and he grabbed her hips, steadying her, his lips refusing to part with the objects of their attention. He couldn't be in two places at one time. Or maybe he could. ~*$**$**$**$*~ End Part 5 ~*$**$**$**$*~ Part 6. Please keep all headers intact as noted in Part 1 He eased them both to the floor; him on his knees, his sexy partner sliding down into a semi-squat, her spread bent legs framing his thighs, snaring him. He drew back just enough to freeze-frame the picture before him. Locks of auburn hair scrunched and mussed around her on the mirror, her hands gripping the shoulders of his pullover. The depth of the blue of her eyes focused on his mouth, her own lips moist from where her tongue bathed them. Angora sweater bunched up under her arms...he made a mental note to remove it...it broke up the expanse of her creamy skin. And the way her ass rested on her heels...his eyes drawing down over her very alert breasts, down to her parted legs, to the heat of her. She felt him inch closer. And closer still until his knees connected with the backs of her thighs where they met her behind. She felt him touch her...everywhere, but mostly where the now throbbing and pulsing hardness of him bobbed between them. Oh god, if he moved just a little bit lower.... What to touch first. Almost always practical, she used her hold on his sweater to direct him down to her, her mouth open, trying to tell him what she craved. Damn him, but he wanted to play. She wanted to taste him. Her mouth opened wider on a surprised 'Oh, Mulder', as he let one hand slip from her hip along the crease of her parted thigh and directly to her apex. 'Wonderful' couldn't begin to cover the sensations of his searing kiss and the heel of his hand setting up a rhythm just above where she really, really, most definitely had to have him the most. "Mmm..." "You've got to articulate more clearly, Scully. Really." In spite of herself, she grinned. And laced her fingers into his hair, pulling his face close once again and then feinted to one side and bit his earlobe. Rather hard. She was good; he'd give her that. But he bet she didn't expect him to stroke her and slide his middle finger deep inside her. Her knees were going weak for the second time, but what he was doing to her. Well. Two could play at this seduction and she was beginning to think she'd never get him where she wanted him. He wasn't exactly sure which happened first. Her small, warm hand grasping him, stroking him from root to tip. Landing on his ass, her hand on his chest or was her hand on his chest right before he landed on his ass? And she was still working him... And his finger was still wet with her though no longer inside her. On her knees between his legs, she watched the look on his face change from arousal to surprise to arousal to...well, it stayed there. And he called her 'mercurial'.... As he came up onto his elbows, she saw the glint in his eyes that said 'as much as this is turning me on, this isn't where it ends'. She liked that. She liked him. She loved holding him. Especially when he was still half-dressed and she had the upper hand, so to speak. He'd gotten to visualize his fantasies regarding her. So, here was one of hers. Her partner rather sexily posed; sprawled in front of her, his bangs hanging on his forehead, eyes that crossover shade of mocha/gold/olive, face flushed. Top teeth nipping bottom lip. Oh...that mouth.... Upper body covered, but the neckline of his crewneck pullover rakishly skewed to one side, the hem just grazing the dark thatch of his groin. Long legs, bare, slim feet. Yet, her eyes skimmed it all zeroing in on what she crawled forward to reclaim. He was hard. So hard and throbbing. Her firm grip on him followed by her tongue flicking once, twice, under the ridge and then across the head almost sent him down onto his back. But not before he sat up, roughly pulling her toward him and toppling them both down, disengaging her hold on him. His lips nibbled her chin and bussed her nose and then went in for the kill, parting hers with heat and liquid fire. He felt her response clear to his toes. She curled those toes with her passion. His hands were all over her, but mostly under her sweater, holding her, his thumbs keeping time with the movement of his tongue in her mouth. But her last item of clothing was in his way. He was having only marginal success removing the barrier between them. He'd almost succeeded in freeing one of her arms from the soft wool, but she didn't seem to want to let go of him. And when he managed to release her fingers from his hair, there was the little problem of neither of them being willing to relinquish their kiss. His hands were still all over her, but were spending too much time with her sweater. She decided it had to go; understood that was ultimately what he'd probably been trying to do. It was just that the taste of his lips was a sensation she simply fell into. And didn't see any reason to stop just yet. "Scully," he breathlessly gasped, "sweater." Panting, she righted herself, drawing him with her. On her knees once again she crossed her arms, her fingers at the hem of her top and drew it over her head. For his part Mulder enjoyed the slight bounce to her breasts and the way her abs stretched taut as the garment was removed. The waning sunlight caught the fragments of red fire created by the static electricity of wool and strands of hair. "What're you doing?" He watched his favorite G-Woman with barely disguised amusement as she folded the sweater and turned toward the upholstered bench across from them. In response, she began to walk on her knees away from him. "I paid good money for this Mulder, and if you think I--" She'd always known that part of his charm was his wickedly playful way. She had barely crawled a few feet when she felt his body behind her, enfolding her, covering her. All at once he'd pulled her to him, his hands covering her breasts, her ass in his lap. His hot hard length wedged between them. Equally hot and very wet mouth sucking on her neck just below her ear. "You were saying, Scully?" His arms swept upward underneath her arms as he breathed the question into her ear. Rising slightly she arched forward, the feel of his hands sweeping from her hips to her breasts just a precursor for the exquisite tease of his fingers mischievously tweaking her nipples. The sweater dropped unceremoniously from her hand. Rocking back into him, she elicited a raw moan from her sexy G-Man. "I was saying-- OhgodMulder." "Say that again." His fingers raked her hair back as his open mouth attached itself to her neck over her pulse point alternately lapping at her and sucking. What he was doing to her created a very heady sensation. Her heart beat faster almost as if he were causing the blood to pump harder, quicker. She needed to kiss that mouth. But oh what his thumb was doing between her legs. Maybe that kiss could wait. Kissing Scully's skin was always erotic. Talk about erogenous zones. Was there any inch of her that didn't turn her on? This was one of his favorites because if seemed to arouse her everywhere. And she was like just so much slick heat; especially where his thumb touched her. His other hand moving downward, he drew lazy circles on her inner thigh, lightly blowing in her ear as her legs spread wider for him. "God Scully, you're so fucking gorgeous." Twisting her upper body to one side, seeking his lips, her head fell back against his shoulder. "Show me Mulder." Her tongue entered his mouth without invitation as she felt his two fingers slip into her. She felt the palm of his left hand sweep up to her face, guiding her to him, sealing her in their kiss. She wasn't sure to whom to attribute the moans, but she knew without a doubt that she was the one who couldn't sit still. The slight prickling of the hair on his thighs beneath her, the soft cotton of his shirt sliding up and down against her back. And the more she moved, the deeper his fingers penetrated her and the harder he seemed to grow between them. His hand cupped her chin, attempting to separate their mouths, to give them two seconds to restore their oxygen supply. They both gasped, but he wondered whether it was from the lack of air or from how heated he was feeling. Both. Yes. Scully had a way of getting to him. Big time. Whether it was her slow smile, the bright blue of her eyes when she looked deep into his or the sometimes dizzying mix of wit, wisdom and love in her words, he wasn't sure. Probably all of the above. But when it was combined with her uncanny ability to turn him into one big sexual being, well, he knew why he'd been head over heels for this woman for such a long time. The sensuous weight of her in his lap as she writhed and ground into him had him thrusting in response from behind while he thumbed her clit from in front sandwiching her to him. Their bodies felt as if they were on fire, her skin flushed and warm with the slick sheen of sweat causing their lower bodies to slip and slide creating a titillating friction between them. He smiled as he felt her hand join his between her legs, melding him to her, increasing his pace. "You like that, Scully?" Her answer floated to his ears as a combination of a purr couched in a jagged growl ending with his name. He set up a steady rhythm, his palm flat against her belly; his other hand guided by her as he worked her sex. She was so close. "Yessss, God, yes Muhhll...." The insistent pumping of his fingers and the way he circled her bundle of nerves then swept his thumb lightly over it was about to send her sailing into a glittering oblivion. She clutched the back of his hand so tightly to her, she was sure she'd leave marks. She barely registered the heat of his other hand low on her abdomen, one digit tracing the edge of her navel and then dipping into it. She threw her other arm behind her, fingers curling around the back of his neck as she felt the shuddering wave build and then crash over her. "Oooo...uhh...ahh...Mulderholdme." Music to his ears -- as she clenched down on his fingers with her inner muscles and gripped his thighs with her own. Her panting sounds pushed him nearly to his limit as he withdrew his fingers and held her to him tightly -- one arm now across her chest, the other around her hips. Easing her down as they both breathed like a couple of steam engines. "You doing ok, Scully?" "Mmmm. Very, Mulder. More than ok." Sweeping her hair back from her face, she turned in his arms. "And you...?" Her gaze turned downward between them as she shifted, causing him to release her. "Where do you think you're going?" Before replying she scanned his face -- the high color in his cheeks, the tousled and damp hair across his brow and the deep dark of his eyes, she grinned. "*My* fantasy has yet to be fulfilled partner." Once again on her knees in front of him, she smiled down at the quite hefty erection straining toward her. Placing her hands on his quads, she bent toward him and laved him with her tongue from base to head, swirling her way to the top. His groan/moan erupted from him, his eyes slamming shut, catching him by surprise. "Scully!" But she had already moved. When his eyes re-opened she was on all fours, heading toward the bed. Feeling quite animalistic he followed her -- neatly and efficiently grasping her hips and flipping her over onto her back at the foot of the bed. She lay unceremoniously spread before him, her hair fanned on the beige carpeting, her chest rising and falling as if she'd just run a marathon. He was awed by just how devastatingly wicked and sinful she looked lying there and quickly knelt between her legs, his hands pinning hers by her head. "Going someplace?" She watched him above her, bending his elbows, drawing within inches of her face, his words hot puffs of air over his lips, her eyes, causing them to flutter. His pullover hung over her nipples and brushed her throbbing buds with agonizing feather-like touches. Choosing to ignore his question in favor of getting him to part with his shirt, she lifted her head from the floor bringing her lips to his. "Mulder, your shirt?" Her laughter rippled between them. Now it was his turn to laugh. How had it remained on for so long? Did he care? Letting go of her wrists, he sat back on his feet and removed the crewneck top, tossing it aside. "All gone," he gritted out as he felt her toes flexing on his leg. "C'mere, Scully." "Mulder!" Her laughter negated any chance at indignation she might have had as she felt his hands on her ankles, trying to drag her toward him. "I'm going to have rug burn. I don't think you want to be responsible for keeping me off my back for the next several days...." ~*$**$**$**$*~ End Part 6 ~*$**$**$**$*~ Part 7. Please keep all headers intact as noted in Part 1 Her laughter ceased when she found herself literally butted up against his knees, her feet hooked on either side of his hips. The backs of his knuckles trailing along the inside of her thighs higher and higher had her shivering in anticipation, goosebumps covering her flesh. "No rug burn Scully." He loved the way her eyes grazed over him so intently, how they seemed to focus on his face and then...just a little bit south. "See something you like Scully?" Knowing how much she loved to watch him touch himself, he released one of her ankles watching her face as her eyes followed his hand. The anticipation was going to kill her. Sure, it would be a glorious death, but she had so many more ways she wanted to touch him, to explore the possible ways they could join. She actually felt the heat deep in her center as his right hand clasped his cock, as his breath hitched right along with hers, his fist now traveling the length of him. "Jesus, Mulder." She licked her lips as he fondled the head, spreading the drops of precum along the ridge. Rising up onto her elbows, she scooted herself farther forward, using the leverage in her arms and upper body to lift her ass onto his thighs. Continuing to stroke himself, he asked her haltingly, "Is this what you want?" "Mulder, please. I don't know about you, but this afternoon almost puts our seven years of foreplay to shame." Not missing a beat, keeping up the steady up, down that would soon threaten to undo him, he held her with his gaze from beneath half-lidded eyes. "Then what are we waiting for, Scully?" Lightening. The man had the reflexes of...well...a fox. She was bent nearly in half, her knees wide, her ankles resting on his shoulders as he knelt over her. Holding her hips steady, his hands registered as pliant and firm grips, his thumbs moving relentlessly over her hipbones. His name had barely left her lips when he felt her hand on him, guiding him to her slick folds, teasing herself, teasing him. Like a finely synchronized dance, he drew her hips to him as he thrust forward and her hands covered his. Intensely connected. At the first touch of him nudging inside, she simultaneously drew in a deep breath and spread her bent legs farther, anticipating the rush she'd come to expect from this moment. It was the same but always different, always like a new first time. And, as he was wont to do, he teased them both, rising up on his knees slight to push forward and then settling back down to hold at her very wet and pulsing opening. Digging her nails into his hands did nothing. Unless she counted the smug grin on his very lustful face. God how she loved that look. "Damnit, Mulder. Move that fine ass of yours." She directed through clenched teeth. "Only if you ease up on the death grip on my hands. I need them to fire my weapon." "The only weapon I want to see you firing right now doesn't need your...hands." To emphasize her point, she tugged on his hands that held her hips and lifted herself up to him yet again. Who said the third time had to be the charm? Taking her not so subtle hint, he drove into her in one steady glide, contracting his glutes, his hands sliding to hers to lift her closer still. She didn't know what to do with her hands. Briefly rising to her elbows again, she watched, slack-jawed as his length disappeared inside her and then pulled out again to repeat the delicious motion. But she couldn't stay there and lay back down, her head turning from side to side on the carpeting, her arms extended behind her, reaching...for what she didn't know. Letting go of her legs, Mulder leaned forward to grip her waist, pumping steadily, picking up speed to match her moans and the way she chanted his name. The sunset outside the picture windows behind her had nothing on the beauty of her face as she rode him closer to her release. Her hands clenched and unclenched on air and then she moved them closer to her body, trying to gain purchase on the low pile of the rug. "Scully, you ok?" He knew how odd that might sound given how blissful she looked, but the way her back was sliding on the carpet; he really did consider her earlier comment about rug burn. "S'ok Mulder, don't stop." Oh, he wasn't about to stop when they were both so near the finish line and he felt so fucking unbelievable. On his elbows and knees now, he slipped his hands under her shoulders, needing and wanting to touch more of her, hold her close and...deepen his angle. In response, she wrapped her legs higher on his hips and reached up to tangle her hands in his hair. Bringing her lips close to his ear, she whispered, "You're...putting...the lotion...on my back...G-Man." Her tongue followed her words into his ear. "Of course...." Watching her face, he knew that she was about to climax again, his own not far behind her. His fingers brushing her cheekbones as he turned her to him, he sealed his lips over hers. "God, Mulder." She now gripped his shoulders; her fingers clutching him as her heels dug into his hips. "Up" Her eyes briefly opened, silently, wildly directing him. As magically as it usually happened, he looked into her eyes, reading her intention and lifted her to him as he pulled back on his knees, his ass once again resting on his heels. With Scully wrapped around him in his lap. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she squeezed her thighs around him, lifting up just enough to slide down over him. Setting a slow, grinding, swiveling pace with her hips. Driving him to distraction. Deliriously, dangerously delicious distraction. But also frustratingly, erotically agonizing. He set up a forward and back rocking motion, but didn't have enough leverage to thrust. And damn he needed to thrust into her. To bury himself into her with ravishing force. The throbbing ache he felt, had been feeling since his first images of her as a hippie, needed resolution. 'Resolution', hell -- his entire body felt like every nerve-ending was firing double-time. He was talking about mind-blowing orgasm. With the woman of his waking dreams. Trying to get her attention...well, he knew he had her full attention...but he wanted to put himself back in the driver's seat, so to speak... Cupping her ass cheeks, he kneaded them, rocking as he held her still. Nope, this wasn't helping... Her moaning and murmuring and the feel of her breasts pressed to him were making him forget his own name. Or was it her name? "Schulleee. Scully. Stop." That got her attention. What was he saying? Her hips had a mind of their own and her walls contracted, teasing and gripping him tighter. Jesus, it felt like he'd started a fire inside her. and she didn't want anyone putting it out. Then why was he stopping? And did he think that the way he was grabbing her ass was going to get her to stop? He was so deep inside her he could be a part of her own body. Continuing to undulate, she asked him why and then told him 'no'. But Mulder hadn't gotten where he was in life by taking 'no' for an answer. Ensuring that their connection wouldn't be lost, he held her tighter, noting that she responded in kind by attaching herself to him with more tenacity. And that's when he performed one of his less graceful, but nonetheless successful, maneuvers, landing him on his butt, his back to the bed. With Scully still very much in his lap, cradled between his torso and his bent legs. She couldn't stop wriggling and wiggling, meeting his upward thrusts, her hands on his shoulders. Riding him. Leaning back, her hair falling around his knees, she reached behind her, her nails trailing down the backs of his thighs. Eliciting a rather heated string of slurred commands and name calling from him. "Mulder. Let. Go," was her response. As she found his sac nestled between his legs and stroked lightly across the skin, feeling him drawing up tighter. "Awww, Scully." His palms flat on the floor, elbows bent, he surged forward and up into her. "Come with me partner..." Forcing herself to lift her head to look at him, she watched him. The sweat gleaming on his chest, dampening his hair, dotting his forehead, mouth open as his breathing grew more ragged. Following the line of dark hair from his chest downward...as their flesh slapped together. He watched her. Her eyes like midnight, teeth grazing her bottom lip, her breasts...oh, god, he had to touch her. Opposites attracting, his palms covered them, squeezing, kneading, then pinching and twisting her nipples. The somewhat intelligible sounds she made between hitching breaths nearly finished him off right then and there. Feeling the pinching and twisting on her hard points...followed by the hand that slid down her belly and busied itself between her slick folds... "I am...I..." Stretching long and taut, jangling bright white lights zinged behind her eyelids as her heart raced. As he hammered her his hands roved from her breasts to her face, to her hips, settling there, driving into her..."Scully!" ~*$**$**$**$*~ His hand tugged at the hem until the spread slid from the bed and covered them. The lack of clothing, physical exertion and sunlight combined with the efficient air conditioner made them seek the heat of each other...with a little help. "Mulder?" "Mmmm...Scully?" "When did you get so interested in women's fashions?" Pulling the quilted paisley bed covering a little higher, she snuggled against his side, twining her leg with his, her palm on his chest. His heartbeat had steadied some and felt warm beneath her cheek. Warm and steady. Hot and sexy. God, she loved this man! "I'm interested in many diverse topics, Scully. I'm quite well educated." "And equally smug about it." He smoothed the hair back from her face, kissing her damp locks, kissing her forehead, tilting her face to kiss her lips. "I'm not smug. I'm just right." "That you are Mulder." ~*$**$**$**$*~ Finis