From: bizzzichick To: Whispers Subject: [XFNC17ff] FIC: The Painting, NC-17, MSR (1/2) Date: Tuesday, August 14, 2001 12:35 PM Title: The Painting Author: David S. Rating: NC-17 Keywords: MSR, H Disclaimer: The X-Files is owned by someone other than me. I am not trying to profit off of them. Please don't sue me unless Gillian Anderson is there to serve me the summons. If that can be arranged, sue away! Summary :"Mulder," she said softly, caressing the syllables, "If you buy that painting, you will not get any for one month." "Is this a challenge?" he said, a smile forming. Archive: Yeah, just as long as it's not on somebody's "Worst Of" page. Let me know if you do archive it so I can ooo and ah. Notes: This story takes place sometime after "all things" and, of course, before DD made "Evolution," er, I mean Mulder was abducted. I'm of the mind that M&S got together after that ep. I take it further and envision them living together. If that makes you wanna gag, read this anyways. There's a decent amount of humor to temper the schmoop. You can hit me over the head with a wiffle bat later if you like. Thanks to Satina for being my beta. She let me know when I screwed up. Evidently Skinner does not use the word "sweeeet" in ordinary conversations. Thanks hun. Also, thanks to all the people who sent me feedback for my first story. I appreciate them all. I've printed them out and take them with me everywhere, including the grocery store. Sometimes I read them aloud on street corners. So I salute you! These are fun to write, but it's even more fun when you know other people are in on the fun. This story is dedicated to the only two goddesses that I know: Satina and Shannon. You've opened my mind to extreme possibilities. (secret smile) Thanks for the laughter; it means everything. :) Spoilers: None, can you believe it? Feedback: Oh please, couldja???? nakedmanatee@yahoo.com ..................... "You are *not* bringing that home!" Scully said in her unmistakable FBI voice. It was sexy, Mulder had to admit-- this tiny redhead, giving orders without a hint of weakness or question in her tone. You could argue it was her greatest weapon. Which was great when you were interrogating a suspect or defending yourself against a corrupt superior who secretly had it in for you and everyone that you loved, but it was not so wonderful when you were out antiquing and found something really, really cool. Like a painting for instance. They had been tooling around thrift stores (Scully's idea, mind you) looking for eclectic (but tasteful) furnishings for their apartment. *Their* apartment. Mulder had really dug the idea of buying stuff together... decorative knick-knacks that would no longer be labeled just Mulder or Scully, but would represent them as a couple. It sounded like a fun way to spend a Saturday morning. After all, anything that underlined to the world that they were a couple pleased and thrilled him. And lets face it, as cutesy couple stuff went, this was right up there with sending each other sappy e-cards, each one getting progressively gooey. And it's not as if Mulder expected Scully to be thrilled with every weirdo kitsch thing he picked up. He *wanted* to spar with her over chotskes, hell, it was almost foreplay. Give and take, here and there, push and pull, come on Scully... In fact sometimes he would pick up a doodad or knick-knack that he *knew* was way past the line of good taste, something that Martha Stewart would bitch-slap him for, just to see what her response would be. Did she actually think he liked Precious Moments figurines? Oh, Scully. But he was not joking when he saw the painting. It was beyond beautiful. It made him laugh, the audacity of it, kitsch transcending itself. It was huge, a massive 3'x 5', with a dark wood frame, something ornate and 70's looking. It was an oil painting with one distinct image. It was a portrait of a man who looked like a lecherous Musketeer, perhaps 'Dartagnon. He was sneering, cockily, as if he knew you couldn't resist his good looks and charm. Strangely enough, he had a five o'clock shadow, hinting, what? A roguish quality perhaps? This man wore with confidence an ornate Musketeer hat that was blue and had what looked like a peacock feather sticking out of it. It took a true man to wear a hat with excessive plumage. Mulder had never seen anything like it. "I think we've just found our motif. This. This is going to look great over the couch," Mulder said. Two women walked by laughing, unable to take their eyes off the self-absorbed Musketeer. "No, Mulder," she warned. He looked at her as if he didn't hear and kept grinning, his gaze going to the painting, and then back again to Scully. "No." she said a little more firmly. He held up the price tag that was attached to a little piece of string. "25 dollars," he mouthed as if he were worried that if he were to say it aloud, greedy customers, coveting his find, would hear and rip it from his fingertips. "No," she said flatly. He gestured to the price tag for emphasis. And that's when she gave him the FBI voice. Mulder held the painting, with one arm around the back of it, like you would put your arm around a friend. He dramatically waved his other hand in front of it, obviously something he had seen Vanna White do. Scully, unlike the appreciative Wheel of Fortune audience members, did *not* ooo and ahh. He saw her eyes harden, filled with steely resolve. He felt his dick harden, turned on by her steely resolve. Sometimes it sucked to be a man. No, he thought. I am not going to let my crotch make this decision. "We could hang it in the bathroom?" Mulder said, trying a new tact. Scully rolled her eyes. "I don't want *that*," she pointed, "looking at me, while I'm..." she trailed off. "Mulder, it would take up the whole bathroom wall!" The musketeer leered at Scully as if to say, "Oh yeah, baby. You're gonna grow to love me." "Scully, I'm buying this painting." "No, Mulder, you're not." "Please?" "It's not going to happen." They looked at each other in silence, waiting for the other to give in. Other bargain-hunters had begun to gather around them, pretending to sift through junk, but the truth was, they were eager to see where this was headed. It was almost comical, the women nodding and making sympathetic sounds whenever Scully would say something. The men, smiling and laughing in solidarity when Mulder would say something. "I wouldn't want that thing in my house," one woman offered. "Thank you. See, I'm not alone on this, Mulder." "Aw, that's killer," a skater dude countered. "Right on!" Mulder said and they slapped each others hands in some weird male macho series of patterns. "That is uglier than my dog!" a Puerto Rican lady carrying a small unattractive Yorkshire Terrier said. The dog barked at him, agreeing. "I think it's a masterpiece," a man who could have passed for singer Isaac Hayes said, "and if you don't buy it, I will." A crowd was beginning to form. Mulder grinned and said, "Looks like we're going to have to settle this..." he paused, looking around. "...breakdance style!" He jumped and struck a pose. The guys laughed. The women, several of them with arms crossed, looked at him with disdain. Mulder stood up straight. He would not give in. "I have to have it," Mulder said quickly. Scully walked up to him, her small frame as close to him as she could be without touching him. She looked up into his eyes, her gaze warm and deep. "Mulder," she said softly, caressing the syllables, "If you buy that painting, you will not get any for one month." The crowd responded with the women letting out laughs and a few "you go girls!" and the men going "oh, man!" and "damn, girl!" Mulder blinked and swallowed. "Why do I feel like I'm on the Jerry Springer show?" "I'm serious, Mulder," she said, a half-smile on her face, sultry and hot. He lowered his head, despite his best efforts not to, finding himself drawn into her gravitational pull. Her eyelids lowered slightly and her lips parted, a sexual signal that he was unable to resist. His lips touched hers for a second and she pulled way and brought her hand up, one finger pressing against his mouth, pushing him away. "I mean it," she breathed. "Scully..." She can't be serious, he thought. She's got rampaging hormones too. I bet *she* can't hold out. "Is this a challenge?" he said, a smile forming. She crossed her arms and snorted. "Some challenge. I give you a *day.* At most." "This is me. Mulder. I've gone for years without having sex." "Hey man, that's not something I'd brag about," a big black man said. "Hah, no shit," the skater dude added. "Mulder, you are going to be lighting the match to that monstrosity yourself, when I'm done with you. So go ahead. We'll see how long you last." Damn. She was using the FBI voice again. This was not going to be easy. The skater dude put his arm around Mulder. "Duuude, you are so fucked. Haaa-ah!" I wish I had my gun with me, Mulder thought. ............. Day 1 Mulder woke up like he always did, with an erection. He nuzzled behind Scully and realized her nightgown had slid up during the night, leaving her ass exposed to him. Never one to miss an opportunity, he took off his underwear, and began to rub his hard cock between her butt cheeks, enjoying the feel of her silk panties against him. Mulder kissed her back, trailing from one shoulder to the next in conjunction with his gentle thrusts. He couldn't believe he had waited all these years to enjoy waking up with Scully like this. Scully lay there, still sleeping, and Mulder couldn't help but wonder if he was influencing her dreams, turning innocuous situations to erotic ones. He brought his right hand up her silky gown and found her breast and started stroking it. Scully breathed and Mulder wondered if he had heard a moan escape her lips? He circled her nipple with a fingertip, lightly rubbing it to erection. Mulder then lightly pinched the pink stem between his fingers. "Ohh," Scully uttered, her eyelids fluttering. He continued to rub up against her ass, his desire to fuck getting stronger with each mini-thrust. He squeezed the nipple again and Scully gasped. Her eyes still closed, she began to smile, pleased with her dream, perhaps? Mulder moved his hand down and snuck it down the front of her panties, the silk feeling luxurious over his hand. He carefully let his fingers glide over her sex and Scully's eyes slowly opened. He stopped like a thief caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Mulder..." she said awakening. "What are you doing?" "Nothing," he said. "Then get your hand out of my panties." She pulled his hand out, which he then laid on her leg. "You were giving me very nice dreams, Mulder," she said, a gleam in her eye. "Then why can't we make those dreams--" She cut him off. "Get rid of the painting. I can hold out longer than you can." She turned around and grabbed his cock, squeezing it. Mulder trembled. She let go. He got out of bed and stood up, his dick sticking straight out into the air. "What makes you think I'm horny?" "Women's intuition?" she said, teasing. I've got to be strong, I've got to be strong. Mulder chanted the mantra in his head, thinking that if he said it enough times it would come true. He shuffled miserably into the bathroom, standing over the toilet. 'Dartagnon was hanging on the wall behind him, grinning at Mulder's ass. He tried to push his dick down to pee. It wasn't working, it was too hard. Just one of the many wacky hang-ups of being male. He pushed on it harder and backed up, leaning over the toilet, trying to aim it into the bowl. Good enough, he thought, and let loose, a stream of urine hitting the side of the bowl and spraying onto the floor. He stopped and re-aimed. He fired and it splashed off the rim and sprayed all over his legs. "Fuck!" He reached down and cleaned it up with toilet paper and then turned on the water to the shower. "Hey! I need to use the bathroom," Scully yelled. Mulder shut off the water and opened the door. "You having problems in here?" she asked. "You don't wanna know." He stepped outside the door and she went in. Silence. Ten seconds. 20 seconds. The door opened and Scully walked out, frustration on her face. "Mulder!" He looked at her, quizzically. "He's got to go!" Mulder raised his eyebrows, as if to say, 'more information, please.' "The painting! I can't pee with a horny Musketeer looking at me!" "Ohhh, that!" Mulder said. "It's just a painting. You do know that, Scully." "His eyes follow you, Mulder." "Oh, they do not." "Yes. They do. Now go in there and get it. Hurry up, I gotta pee." "Fine," Mulder said, a little bit pouty. Scully waited while he took down the painting. He noticed the smirk on her face and was suddenly quite aware of how dumb he must look, stark naked, clutching a huge painting. ................... Day 2 "Have you seen Agent Scully?" Skinner asked. He was sitting at his desk going through their latest x-file report, trying futilely to find some sort of coherency. Reading their case files was like playing connect-the-dots with every other dot missing. Mulder sat down, adjusting his unfortunately colored tie absent-mindedly. "Why? She usually gets here before me." Skinner looked at him, unsure if he was being improper. "No, I mean, have you *seen* Agent Scully?" Mulder returned the look, blankly. "I'm not following you." "Well, I'm not sure how to put this. She seems different. She looks...flushed. Maybe feverish. I'm not sure what to make of it." "Ah," Mulder said. He knew what she was up to, that little vixen. She's not playing fair. "Feverish," he repeated, dreamily. Mulder's eyes rested on a grinning picture of President Clinton, fantasizing about what Scully could be looking like. "I think she went down to your office." Skinner cleared his throat. "She may not feel well." He then seemed incredibly interested in shuffling papers. "Maybe you should..." Mulder got up. "Yeah, maybe I should." Scully walked in. Mulder's mouth went dry. Skinner stood up nervously, scattering papers all over the floor. Mind you, Scully always looked good. She looked good without trying. She could wear a nun's habit and turn you on with those full lips and soulful eyes. And when it came to fashion, she always seemed to find the right mix between professional and attractive. But today, she looked really good. Today she was *trying*. Mulder couldn't help give her the once over. Scully and black skirts always went well together. Her legs were soft, curvy, and feminine and any opportunity to view them turned most men into putty. Mulder tried not to think of kissing them and caressing them, but it was a hard image to shake. Her skirt today was clingy wool knit, and a little bit shorter than usual, though not obscene in a mini-skirt way--that would have made Mulder explode right then and there. (And probably Skinner for that matter.) It clung tightly to her form, baring a tantalizing two inches of knee. The slit up the side of the skirt was also a little bit higher than it was usually, showing off some rare Scully thigh. Her blouse was white silk, another Scully trademark. What Scully did for white blouses, well, let's just say that clothing manufacturers should have been sending her Christmas cards. Today, however, she had taken things a step further. It was something that Mulder could not miss. She had her blouse unbuttoned to just below where her cleavage began. He didn't know how many days he had spent counting those buttons, mentally undoing them in his head. And now, she stood before him, wish granted. The revealed curves would not get her arrested, but to Mulder, the extra peek was a view of heaven. What's more, she knew it. *Before*, she would dress beautifully and smartly, seeming totally indifferent or oblivious to her effect on men. Now, she was fully aware. Her face seemed to shine with a barely hidden sexuality. The energy in the room, if somehow tapped, could have solved California's electricity crisis. "Mulder," she purred. "Good, you're here." "Scuh-ully," Mulder croaked, like the horny toad he was. "I need you to go down-" Scully coughed. "Excuse me. To your office. I have something you need to take a look at." Mulder stood there with his mouth open, silent for a few seconds. "Mulder?" she said. "Uh, yes. Yes. I'm... interested in that." Intelligent conversation was the first thing to go when Mulder got aroused. She noticed the strewn papers and bent down to pick them up. He could easily see down her blouse, mesmerzied by an achingly wonderful view of Scully's breasts. His dick throbbed, looking for the exit out. She stood up and handed the papers to Skinner. He took them as quickly as he could, determined to keep his gaze focused above her collar. He smiled a little crazily. "I have to go get a drink of water," he said, and walked out, carefully avoiding Scully like she was carrying an infectious bio-toxin. As soon as their supervisor was gone, she looked Mulder up and down. Her eyes were dark and smokey. She stood in front of him and traced a finger down his shirt and then down to his trousers. She grabbed his hardened cock and squeezed it. Mulder inhaled quickly, overcome with the pleasant sensation, and closed his eyes. "It doesn't take much, does it?" she said. Mulder couldn't stand it any longer. He leaned in and garbbed her, pressing his lips to hers. Their tongues darted together, finding each other. God, he wanted to just drink her up. He ran his hands through her hair, holding her face as he kissed her. He broke away from her for a second, breathing in her ear. "You're making me crazy, Scully." And without even allowing her to respond, his mouth pressed up against hers again, unable to take more than a three-second break. Finally, she pushed him away gently. "Mulder. I don't want to make out with you in A.D. Skinner's office." He just stared at her unable to form words. "Our office. Downstairs," she said. She ran her fingers through her hair, adjusting it. Then, to Mulder's surprise she plunged her hand down the inside front of Mulder's pants, grabbed his dick again, and arranged it flush with his belly so it wouldn't stick out so much. "Scully..." Mulder took a breath. "That ain't helping." He grinned. She kissed him innocently on the cheek and walked out, waiting for him to follow. Mulder waited thirty seconds for his erection to die down to a manageable state and then made his exit. .............. She stood there leaning back against his desk, one leg fully outstretched. Her foot played with her shoe, dangling it precariously from her cute little toes, revealing her exposed heel. The playfulness of it was more erotic than anything he could find in a skin mag. Mulder shut the door behind him. He locked it. And then put a chair under the doorknob for good measure. "You've been a bad boy," she said, her voice low and husky. "What are you going to do about it?" he responded, somewhat shakily. It was hard to sound confident when your brain didn't work. "Come here and I'll show you." He moved to her. Mulder couldn't wait to be shown and he began to kiss her neck, his lips finding the soft center between neck and shoulder. He flicked his tongue in slow, hard circles and Scully ran her fingers through his hair. "I have something for you," she said. He continued to kiss her neck and she took his hand and guided it up under her skirt. Stockings. Oh god, Scully. Mulder felt her bare thigh, smooth and firm underneath his touch. His fingers felt a little bit higher and Mulder's cock sprung to life and he let out a moan of pleasure. There were no panties. The tips of his fingers brushed gently through damp, velvety hair. She shivered. "Scully," he growled. "What are you doing to me?" "Putting you to good use." She pushed him away and scooted back on the desk. "Take off your shirt," she ordered. He obliged, practically ripping off his tie. His fingers stumbled around the buttons on his shirt. She reached over and helped him, the klutz, trying to hurry up the process. He threw it across the room and it landed on a file cabinet. "Kneel." He did. If the body was a temple, Mulder was all too prepared to worship at the feet of Scully's, reverently. "Lick." He did. He jerked up her skirt, pushing it up to her waist, revealing her treasure. Damn this was a sight. Scully, pantiless, on the edge of Mulder's desk. Everyone in the Bureau had always said that this kind of stuff must be going on ever since Scully had been partnered with him. Why not fulfill everyone's expectations? His hands caressed her legs. His eye caught sight of the half-off shoe, still dangling, and he got even harder. Mulder left a trail of kisses up her thigh, slowly advancing, not in a hurry, no, he wanted to savor this trip, where the final destination led to the promised land. Scully's legs felt smooth and hot beneath his fingertips. He caressed them, sometimes lightly, but more often than not, massaging them harder as his passion grew. He moved closer, his lips a breath away from her sex. He took in the moment, waiting, then he blew, softly, sending a current of warm breath across her hot pussy. Scully inhaled with a tiny whimper. Mulder kissed her, pressing his lips firmly against the lips of her sex. She trembled slightly as he let his tongue slowly enter her and taste the wetness inside. Mulder grabbed her ass with one hand and held it as he pushed his tongue in deep, swirling it, french-kissing her pussy. "Yesss," she breathed, barely coherent. She let her head fall back, her eyes half-open and staring the ceiling. Scully's hands ran through Mulder's hair, then down his neck and to his shoulders. He pulled his tongue out and held his head above the wet mound for seconds, knowing the anticipation was killing her. It was torturous, the wait, for seconds seemed like minutes, but he knew that that was the way that Scully liked it. Mulder brought his tongue down to the top of her slit, lightly finding her clitoris and flicking in a spiral, licking up every drop of the essence that was flowing out of her. Her fingers twined in his hair, a gentle tug here and there whenever she lost control. "Harder," she said through gritted teeth. Scully guided his head where she wanted it to go. He responded by increasing the pressure, his tongue now taking on the role of a surrogate penis, thrusting in and out of her, with growing intensity, his nose bumping her engorged clit. She let out a long moan, softly at first, but getting louder by the second. Scully bit her lip, trying not to yell. Sure, everyone expected them to be fucking, but god, they didn't need to see or hear every second of it. She could just see fellow agents holding up score cards as she left the office, 9.8, 9.5, 9.6. Mulder knew she was near and sucked her hard bud into his mouth and licked firmly as he slid two fingers into her. She gasped, let go of his hair and grabbed the sides of the desk for support. His tongue thrusts shook her and the desk, causing a stack of plastic organizer trays to crash to the ground. Neither one of them cared. Mulder flicked harder. He was running out of breath, but by god, he was going to make her come or pass out trying. Scully kicked off her left shoe and began rubbing the bulge in Mulder's pants with her toes. The sensation was intense and Mulder thought he might come then and there. He let out a groan and the vibration of his voice against her sex coupled with his tongue and finger fucking drove her to orgasm. "oooohHHHHHH God MUUUULLLLLderrrr....oh! oh!" She bit her lip again trying to be quiet as she rode the wave of pleasure. "ohhhhhhhhhhh. ohhhhh. ohh my." She licked her lips and smiled, drunk on endorphins. Mulder rose up, face wet, and kissed her. She kissed back hard, their tongues chasing each other. He stopped, looked down, and started to undo his belt. "I want to fuck you so bad, Scully," he growled. She got up and adjusted her skirt, pulling it down to to cover her dripping sex. She reached out and held the sides of his face tenderly. "And I want you to fuck me," she said. "So get rid of that painting." Mulder blinked and looked confused, as if she was speaking in Swahili. "Wha?" he said. "Get rid of the painting," she repeated and guided his hand to her pussy. "And you get this!" Scully backed away. "I see you need some time to think about this." "But," Mulder said, synapses firing way too slowly. She adjusted herself and ran her fingers through her hair, trying to make sure she didn't look like she had just had a man's face between her legs. Scully moved the chair from the door. "You know where I live, don't you?" she said playfully. Mulder continued to stare at her, mouth agape. "And put a shirt on. People might start to get the wrong idea about us." She turned the knob, opened the door and stepped out. She peeked back in and blew him a kiss. "Good work, Agent Mulder," she said with a smile. ............................. Day 3 The woman in the smart blue suit leaned into the microphone. "It gives me great pleasure to introduce a man whose profiling skills are legendary. Through his efforts, countless arrests and convictions have been made, including the grisly John Lee Roche murders. He's one of the most intelligent, gifted agents I've had the pleasure of meeting. I know I feel a lot safer at night knowing he's out there. Let's welcome Special Agent Fox Mulder!" The audience applauded politely as Mulder stepped up to the podium. He smiled. Wow, what a nice introduction. Thankfully, she graciously left out all the times he had embarrassed the FBI. Before he had started working on the x-files he would occasionally get the offer to give speeches for local law enforcement groups, especially after he made several successful collars in high- profile cases, such as Roche. After he started delving into the paranormal, however, the only offers he got were from fringe UFO groups. He once gave a speech for a Star Trek fan club that was a disaster when the fans discovered he was not fluent in Klingon. So when he was asked to give a speech on profiling by the Police Emerald Society- a club encouraging the fraternity among Irish- American police-, he jumped at the chance. "Thank you Ms. O'Hara, you're too gracious." Mulder flipped open his notebook to start his speech. "I know some of you probably dismiss 'profiling' as a nebulous technique at best, some overeducated college kid making guesses and stating the obvious. I know we've all seen plenty of movies and TV shows where the main character is able to figure out the criminal's motives by examining the thinnest of clues, and is able to magically produce a suspect, complete with DOB and home address." The audience chuckled. "But I'm here to tell you. It's a real tool and it can help you." Mulder turned the first page of his notes and read from them. "I want you to fuhhh-" He stopped. His notes were scribbled over with Scully's handwriting. She had written in red ink. "I want you to fuck me, Mulder!" He was silent for a second, flushed. "I want you to forget about... what you see in the movies." He smiled. Nice save. "Profiling is not an exact science," he said, the word 'science' making him think of Scully, naked. "But.. it... can make all the difference in the world." Mulder turned the page. "My nipples are hard," he read absent- mindedly. Shit. Scully had written that... in black ink! It looked like he had written it! "...with the thought of stopping crime!" he nervously spat. Oh, that sounded lame. The audience laughed nervously, not sure if he was joking. He turned the page. Fuck. There was a Polaroid of Scully taped to the sheet. She was lying naked, spread-eagle on their bed. She had on pumps and a black lace bra, but no panties. She was masturbating. Mulder felt his crotch stiffen. This woman did not fight fair. With shaking hands he removed the picture to get to his text. "Roy.. Roy Hazelwood was a pioneer in profiling. He noticed there were different types of offenders." Mulder turned the page. "Now I want you to put your hot coc---" Mulder swallowed. Sweat was running down his brow. The words, in Scully's feminine cursive read "Now I want you to put your hot cock inside me." "Your hot cocoa, hot cocoa, down." Mulder smiled. "Or coffee or soda. Whatever you're drinking. Just put it down. I want all your attention on me. Thank you." People in the audience began to whisper, but they complied, putting their drinks on the floor. He turned the page. There was another Polaroid, this time, Scully was totally naked and she was massaging herself with a vibrator. Who was taking these pictures? He looked up at the audience, sweating. The silence was awful. His cock was protruding uncomfortably. It's a good thing he had this podium. He tore off the picture, almost afraid to read. It looked normal. "Hazelwood categorized offenders into two categories, the organized and disorganized offenders. Now this did not mean that one had a day-timer and the other didn't." The audience laughed, almost too much. It was a hard thing to watch, a man dying on stage. They were very relieved that he seemed to have recovered from his bizarre form of stage anxiety. He turned the page, feeling better. He might just get through this after all. "Hazelwood was often fond of saying 'I miss giving you head--'" Fuck! He did it again! Scully had *printed* this time, forgoing the cursive! "Headache!" he shouted. "Ow. headache. Oooo. Painful." He held the sides of his head and wrinkled his nose dramatically. He grabbed his papers and ran down off of the stage. "I forgot to take my medication!" The audience was stunned to silence as they watched him leave. All things considered, his excuse made sense. As he left the hotel conference room he yelled, "You WIN Scully!" The concierge turned and thought about calling security, then decided not to out of pity. ............. Mulder broke five different traffic laws driving home. God must have wanted him to get laid however, because he was not pulled over for any of them. He pulled up to their apartment and almost fell out of the car trying to get out. Mulder reached back in and grabbed the photos. He didn't want to leave them there for any of his creepy neighbors to peruse. They would more than likely be some weirdo's jack-off material or some kid would post them on the Internet. If anybody's going to get kinky, Mulder thought, it's gonna be me. Mulder ran up to the door, almost knocking over Mrs. Ferguson, his next-door neighbor. "Sorry!" he said loudly. As if she knew why he was trying to get home so quickly, she yelled back, "She's not there, kid!" He stopped and turned around. "Your girlfriend went to the store," she explained. "Say, do you have pictures?" Mulder held the notes and photos to his chest. "No. No I don't." He pulled out his keys and unlocked the door, careful to keep one eye on Mrs. Ferguson. "Pretty jittery for an FBI agent," she said to herself as Mulder shut the door behind him. He put the pictures and his notes on the coffee table and went into the bedroom. The painting lay there, leaning up against the wall. "You," he pointed to the smarmy Musketeer, "are goin' down." He picked it up and hauled it to the front door. "I don't know what I ever saw in you, anyways. Nothing but trouble." Mulder opened the front door and dragged the artwork to his car. He popped the trunk and shoved the painting in, unceremoniously. "If I had a fireplace I'd throw you in it." The Musketeer stared at him, his taunts having no effect. He slammed the trunk down. .............. Mulder heard the rustle of keys unlocking the front door. Scully. The door swung open and she walked in carrying two sacks of groceries. He got up from the recliner and advanced on her. "Mulder," she said and then he was kissing her, his mouth hungry, his tongue finding hers. She let the sacks drop and he held her face as he kissed her. He lowered his face to her neck and starting kissing. He pulled her jacket down, having to stop kissing to remove one sleeve. As it fell off of her, more tender neck flesh was exposed and he hungrily licked and sucked, his lips pressing hard against her. His hands held her by the waist. "Mulder," she finally said. "It's gone," he said, knowing full well what she was going to say. "It's in the trunk of my car and you will never have to look at it again." She smiled. "Took you long enough." "I got your notes by the way..." "And?" He switched and kissed the other side of her neck, his tongue trailing up to her earlobe. He took her earlobe into his mouth and played with it with his tongue. He whispered, "Let's just say, I don't think they're going to invite me back. Naughty girl." He bit her earlobe tenderly and Scully breathed in, startled by the sensation. "Maybe I can make it up to you?" she said breathy and innocent, as if she were offering to get him a drink, instead of what he was thinking. "I've been waiting forever to hear you say that." "It's only been three days, Mulder," she laughed. "Three..." He stopped and put his lips to hers. "Long... *frustrating*..." Mulder grabbed her ass, squeezing it. "...days... Scully." "Poor baby," she said, low and throaty. "I think you deserve a reward." She backed up and undid her blouse, taking her time. Mulder breathed slowly. Scully's eyes, dark with lust, locked onto him, clearly enjoying the power that she had over her hapless partner. Since they had been living together, he had many opportunities to see Scully's breasts, but the sight of them never failed to take his breath away. She stood there, a fantasy made real, in a beautiful silver lace bra. Mulder's cock pushed to get out. Scully did not fail to notice. She knelt before him, her face inches away from his crotch, and she carefully undid his belt. Feminine fingers unbuttoned his slacks, then pulled down the zipper. She stared at the bulge, her fingertips just inside the elastic of his Calvins. Scully pulled them down in one swift motion and his dick sprung out almost as if it were trying to find her lips on its own. Her fingers gently ran up the shaft and Mulder took a quick deep breath through his nose. She brought her lips up to the tip and kissed it, almost chastely. Then after a few seconds, she began to lick in an agonizingly slow clockwise motion. Mulder couldn't help but run his fingers through her hair. God, to see her there, his partner, on her knees taking him in was almost too much. For so long he had struggled to see her only as a co-worker and friend, but this... this left no doubt in his mind that Scully was now his lover, above all other things. Scully's tongue went from the tip and followed the underside of the shaft down, licking till she reached his balls. So sensitive. He felt the warm wet tongue glide over them and her name came out of his mouth in a soft exhale. She took the length of his cock in her mouth, suddenly, and Mulder gritted his teeth, willing himself not to come. The heat pounding in his cock seemed almost to spread across his entire body as she bobbed her head up and down on him, fucking the glistening shaft with her mouth. He held her head lovingly, not to control her movements, god, she was doing damn fucking fine on her own, but to feel her soft hair slide through his fingers. His pulsating cock was building too quickly to an orgasm. Her tongue started swirling around his penis and he started to lose it. "Scu-Scully...ohhhh god...stop. I don't want to come yet..." She stopped for a second and then took his dick in as deep as she could. "Ahhhh fuck... Scully!" She pulled back and looked up at him, her lips wet, her eyes sultry. She licked the drool from her lips. "Say it," she said, almost growling. "Scully, please fuck me." She stood up and pulled off her skirt. No panties again. Damn. Maybe he should buy paintings more often, if this was the end result. Scully unhooked her bra and pulled down the lacy straps, her round full breasts becoming free. If he didn't want her so bad, he could've looked at her all day. As it was, he undid his shirt and threw it behind him. His pants were off in seconds. "Where do you want me, Mulder?" Scully said, six words that he would never ever forget. "Couch. You on top." She smiled. He loved having her on top. Maybe it was a control thing, Scully in control of *him* that is. Mulder didn't know for sure. All he did know was that it was fine thing to be able to fuck Scully and still have his hands free to run up and down her body. He laid back in the corner of the couch, his back against a soft pillow. She lowered herself down on him and she kissed his neck, her mouth sucking tightly, forming an 'o' shape on his skin. Scully was straddling him, one leg for support on the floor, the other knee on his opposite side resting on the couch. Her pussy hovered above Mulder's erect penis and he could actually feel the velvety wet hairs tickling the tip of his shaft. The torture was fucking incredible. "Oooh Scully," he whimpered, helplessly. He felt a tiny delicious pain at his neck where she was sucking. "You're... going... to give me a hickey..." She stopped and let out a low evil laugh. Her voice was stern. "You're not complaining are you?" "No, no!" "Good." Scully lowered her dripping mound, enveloping just the tip for a second. Then she sank all the way down on it, taking it in deep. "Hhhhh," Mulder breathed fiercely. His hands were around her waist as he helped pull her harder onto him. Her pussy wrapped tightly onto his cock, strong as a fist, soft as a silk pillow. She controlled the thrusts, finding a pleasant and steady rhythm. Mulder's hands pulled her down faster. "No-no," she said. "Breasts." She pulled his hands up to them. "I'm in charge of this." She pumped on him, forcefully. He gasped, cupping the soft flesh in his hand. He strained his head forward and brought his mouth to one and twirled his tongue around the nipple. The nipple grew hard between his lips and he bit down on it, gently. Scully moaned and started fucking him harder. Mulder reached down with his right hand and found his way to the top of her slit. He knew he had found her clit when she let out an "oh!" and clenched her inner muscles tightly around his pulsating cock. While finger and cock worshipped at the sex of Scully, his mouth continued to suckle her breasts. He would bite carefully on one side, feeling the hard nipple between his teeth, and then switch, making sure one breast did not get neglected over the other. The pleasure was building now, he no longer could keep a pretense of control. She owned him. If she wanted him to come, he would. Mulder increased the pressure of his finger, massaging her clit, trying desperately to get her off before he exploded in her. "aaaah..ahhhHHH...Mulldderr... God... don't stop... harder....yes...fuck... fuck...ooooh...ooooohh....OHHH!" As she rode him, he felt her come, her last grinding thrusts almost violent as she screamed his name. Scully's body bucked and she shuddered as the orgasm washed through her, but she did not stop fucking. She would not until she was done with him. "Come, Mulder," she said, barely audible, her eyes still shut, her lips full and open, flush with passion. "You... you can help now." He eagerly put his hands on her waist and pulled her down on his cock, thrusting his hips upward. His cock swelled as he pumped into her, his hands forcing her down faster and faster. "Ohh god, Scully.... yes...ohh...ah...ahhhhhhh...ahhhhhHHHH!" With one final push she squeezed his cock with her pussy and he exploded, shooting deeply into her. His fingers tightly gripped her sides and his body trembled, involuntarily. Scully lowered her mouth onto his and they kissed. She clenched her inner walls again, making sure every last drop of him was in her and he moaned into her mouth. She broke away and rested her head on his chest. Her face glowed with exhaustion and exhilaration. This time they were both high on the endorphin rush. He kissed her forehead. "You win, Scully," he said, smiling. "Was there ever a doubt?" she said back, her breath hot on his chest. "Not really. But it sure as hell was fun trying." ................ Mulder walked into their office, carrying a stack of files. Scully looked up from the desk, just having finished editing some questionable "facts" in their latest report. He looked a little too cheerful considering that his task was to find every file that had a mention of ghostly stair-children, forever consigned to haunt the crawl spaces under stairs. What this had to do with the current kidnapping case, she didn't know, but Mulder was certain to make some funky leap of logic that would tie it all together. He set down the files and pushed an envelope across the desk to her. She picked it up. "What's this, Mulder?" "Open it," he said, delighting in her curiosity. She lifted the flap and brought out a stack of tickets stapled together. She examined them. "Mulder, are these...?" "Yes. Cruise tickets. Picture it, Scully. You. Me. The Lone Gunmen." She shot him a look. "Kidding. Just us. Alone. And far away from this." He picked up some files, flapped them, then threw them back down. "Mulder, this is wonderful! These must have cost..." "A fortune. I know. They weren't cheap, let me tell you." "Mulder, there's something you're not telling me." He grinned. "Oh all right. I was going to tell you over dinner tonight. The painting." "Yes..." "I sold it on eBay. Some guy bought it for $4000. I guess there's a whole set of Musketeer paintings and that was the only one this collector was missing. It's going to a good home." "Well, I guess it's a good thing you didn't set it on fire then." He leaned over the desk and kissed her. "And it's a good thing you made me get rid of it in the first place." She smirked. "Because you were able to buy cruise tickets?" "Yeah. No other reason." She stood up, a certain look in her eye. "Mulder." "Yeah?" "Go lock that door." ....................... The End.