Title: Three's a Crowd

Author: Ann K

Email: annhkus@yahoo.com

Category: MSR

Rating: NC-17

Spoilers: None

Summary: "But, hell. The whole damn week had been foreplay.
Their entire professional relationship had only been a
preamble to this very moment."

Disclaimer: All hail Chris Carter and the XF gods for their
creation of Mulder and Scully. Despite being envious, I am
also grateful (for the most part), and definitely don't own
them.

Thanks: To my hubby, for serving as my beta reader and my X-
Files viewing companion.

In response to the Sept/Oct challenge at Whispers of X.

Challenge items: A lei, a ukulele, a roasted pig with an
apple in its mouth, a FBI Ball or party that all characters
must attend, a rubber blowup doll to be taken as a date by
the characters to the party, masks to be worn at the party,
spiked punch

In response to True Blue's September 2001 challenge:




16th Street Warehouse
Downtown D.C.
9:57 am, Monday

"Mulder, when our position is not quite so laughable, you
must explain the reasons behind this little fetish." He met
her smirk with one of his own, laughing humorlessly at their
situation.

"Scully, two things. One, my fetishes, if indeed you
persist in thinking that I have them, are a little more
upscale, shall we say. And, two. When we get out of here, I
will start by finding and kicking that anonymous tipster's
ass, not chatting with you over coffee."

The sirens in the distance indicated that the cavalry was
indeed arriving. A little late, Scully thought, surveying
the damage. The collapsing floor took she and Mulder by
surprise, dropping both of them on their backsides to a
darkened area beneath the main floor of the warehouse.

She lay curled in his arms, grimacing at the pain she knew
would turn into serious aches and bruises in the days to
come.  He still had his Sig held tightly in his right hand,
having been able to get off one shot before the floor fell
from beneath them. That was all it took, she thought, if the
crumpling of the suspect's body before their fall was any
indication.

"Scully, what exactly did the guy tell you this morning?"

She pushed herself up, wiping the dirt off her forehead with
a sigh and slowly getting to her feet. "That the call came
from this old warehouse, that we needed to get down here
before..."

Her voice trailed off as she turned to give Mulder a hand.
If they hadn't been nearly knocked silly by their fall, she
imagined that he would be in bliss at the moment.

The sunlight shone dimly from the windows in the room above
them, falling down across Mulder as he lay awkwardly against
the wall, breathing heavily. Each arm, including the one
that still held his weapon, was wrapped tightly around a
naked woman, a breast cupped firmly in both hands.

Looking around, she saw that he was surrounded by women. All
shapes. All sizes. And all naked. The tip had declined to
mention that the warehouse was storage for a rubber blow-up
doll company, but it all seemed fitting somehow.

"Agent Scully!" Skinner's voice echoed through the
emptiness of the building, and she stuck her head towards
the hole in the ceiling. "Under here, sir!" Turning around
to her partner, she pulled him up slowly. "I know that this
is the epitome of every man's dream, but your work here is
done, Mulder. Even you can't save these women now."



J. Edgar Hoover Building
X-Files Office
9:30 am, Tuesday



"Mulder, is this really necessary?" She shook her head,
trying for the millionth time to reconcile herself with
Mulder's outlandish other half. Propped up under the words I
WANT TO BELIEVE, announcing her presence to anyone who might
be walking by, was one of the slightly squashed, but still
voluptuous, rubber blow-up dolls from yesterday's fiasco.

At least Mulder had the decency to cover up the key areas; a
loud-print Hawaiian shirt with a colorful lei was hanging
loosely from the doll's frame. "Great, Mulder," she
muttered as she turned away towards her desk. "I feel like
we are working on the islands."

"Scully," he answered patiently, never taking his eyes off
the report in front of him, "I think it gives the office
some class, don't you? Besides, if we are destined to be the
lone inhabitants of the dark dungeons of the FBI Building,
we can at least have some company."

She grimaced. "Mulder, she's not company. She's rubber."

"See, Scully," he said with a sigh, dropping his papers on
the desk and leaning back in the chair, his head nearly
resting in the doll's lap. "That's where you are missing
the key understanding of the male psyche."

Obviously, she thought, settling down into her chair as she
prepared to finish her report for Skinner about yesterday's
events. The good news was that the suspect, who had been
raping and murdering women on the Southside for months, was
dead. The bad news was, in Mulder's haste to follow up on
the anonymous tip, they had left without backup and nearly
gotten themselves killed.

"It's not just sexual, you know."

Her head jerked up at the mention of "sexual," having
tuned Mulder out as she tried to get her work done. Sex was
always an interesting word coming from Mulder's lips.

"Okay, so if it is not sexual, then what is it? Why do they
go to so much trouble to make the dolls anatomically correct
if their sole function was not to provide sexual comfort for
lonely men?" She started to blush in spite of herself.

Discussing sex with Mulder was not how she wanted to spend
the morning. It was too dangerous of a topic for both of
them. There had been something deliciously erotic about
lying in Mulder's arms yesterday surrounded by naked women.
She trembled a little from the memory, forcing herself to
focus on Mulder's lips and the words he was speaking.

Bad idea. He had beautiful lips. Funny, watching them move,
she decided she could listen to him speak for days on end.
Now that was a first, she thought. Wouldn't he be thrilled
to know that little fact?

They had been partners too long for her to still be
vulnerable to moments of sexual attraction. Lust, she
decided, trying to be honest with herself. But maybe that
came from the fact that they had been partners for so long,
knew each other so well. In addition to the bumps and
bruises from yesterday, she swore she could still feel the
comforting touch of Mulder's arms wrapped around her.

"So, you see, Scully, it is all about a physiological
comfort, and the dolls are really the first step toward
replacing the female gender all together."

Replacement? What the hell was Mulder talking about?

Knowing it was an even worse idea than watching his lips,
she walked over to Mulder, leaning both hands on his desk
and looking at him with an unwavering stare. What was she
doing? Flirting?

Her seductive voice took even her by surprise.

"Mulder," she surmised, grabbing his tie with a free hand
and pulling him closer to her, "if you really feel that way
about women, then you better enjoy your rubber doll and her
lei. Because it's the only one you are going to get."

Punctuating her words with a kiss on his forehead, she
stepped back, laughing at the shocked expression on his
face. God, but flirting with Mulder could be fun.
Dangerously so, she reminded herself, as she stepped back to
her desk.


Mayflower Café
Washington, D.C.
1:32 pm, Wednesday


The tension was sexual, he decided. Tantalizingly sexual. He
could almost taste it, and, after Scully's little show in
the office yesterday, decided this could be interesting.
Mulder considered himself to be a smart man, and he was well
aware of what a beautiful partner with whom he shared an
office and a significant part of his life. But this was new
territory they were exploring, and, while he couldn't say he
minded, he was a little wary of the consequences.

If this continued, however, consequences be damned. This was
Scully.

The glint in her eye. The extra swing in her hips as she
walked out of the office this morning. The way she seemed to
savor each bite of lunch, letting it roll around in her
mouth, then licking her lips slowly as if to punctuate the
action. Mulder wasn't sure if she was still trying to get
back at him for his remark yesterday, or if there was
something bigger going on, but he sure as hell was going to
find out.

All he knew as that he was so aroused right now he felt as
if he was about to burst.

"So, Mulder, I know it's last minute and everything, but
would you mind joining me?" He looked at her quickly,
trying to pick up the conversation he had lost amidst his
decidedly unprofessional thoughts.

"Hello? Earth to Mulder?" She laughed at him, reaching
over to quickly wipe the sauce from his sandwich off his
lips. "I'll take that as a yes," she said, grabbing the
check the waiter had placed on the table.

"It's actually a masked theme party, Mulder. They sent me
the tickets because I donated money this year to the alumni
association. Every year they come up with some lame excuse
for a theme and get together and drink. I think this year is
'An Evening in Tahiti.' Or something unbearably along those
lines. I doubt I'll know anyone there, but, if history
repeats itself, these things always get somewhat wild. And,
I don't know. I thought it might be fun, something different
for us on a Friday."

It was the hesitation in Scully's voice, underlined by a
hint of hopefulness that finally reaching his distracted
thoughts.

While her words aroused him, causing a flicker of warmth in
his trousers, they also reminded him of how much he cared
for this woman. Whatever game Scully was playing, he was in
on it. If that meant accompanying Scully to a masked ball
and foregoing a night alone in his apartment, that was a
sacrifice he was more than willing to make.

"Scully," he said, leaning foreword in a perfect imitation
of her actions yesterday, running his finger lightly down
the side of her face and stopping to rest in her hair, "you
don't even have to ask. I'd be honored."

Her wide-eyed response and flushed cheeks were exactly the
answers he wanted.



Scully's apartment
8:43 pm, Friday


This was ridiculous. Ludicrous. Absolutely insane. It was
also incredibly arousing, Scully decided, feeling the
increasing slick wetness between her legs as she waited on
Mulder to arrive. She had finally succeeded. Looking perfect
without looking like you were trying too hard, the illusive
female trick.

But something was off, she thought, examining her image in
the mirror. Little black dress. Check. Earrings and pearl
necklace. Check. Black pumps. Check. Upswept hair. Check.
Feeling a little lightheaded, and definitely not like
herself, she slipped out of her panties, tossing them on the
bed behind her and smiling lightly at her boldness.

Now she was ready for Mulder.

The hours since their lunch together on Wednesday had been
more than agonizing. They had been arousing, frustrating,
confusing. She tried to follow their same routine, maintain
the same light tone and professional demeanor. She had
failed miserably.

She was having a hard time comprehending all of this. Ever
since the moment with the dolls ("rubber women," as Mulder
liked to call them), she felt a little off, not quite
herself. She was more aware of Mulder than ever before. His
touch. His smell. His eyes. The way he watched her steadily
when she spoke, seeming to never want to take his gaze off
her. And, now. Although she and Mulder had gone out socially
before, this was undisputedly a date, in the most
conventional sense of the term.

It was definitely sexual.

As if on cue, she heard Mulder's distinctive sharp rap at
the front door. It was time. Steadying herself, she opened
the door. And burst out laughing. Languishing against the
doorway, a come-hither look unabashedly shining in his eyes,
was Mulder, dressed in a soft gray suit. And a tame tie.

But, curled up next to him, was the rubber doll from
Monday's fiasco. Mulder had conceded to modesty, adding a
short black skirt to the print shirt and lei hanging loosely
on her frame. She wondered fleetingly where he got the skirt
before deciding she really didn't want to know. Taking it
all in for a moment, she met Mulder's laughing gaze.
"Worried you were going to get stood up, Agent Mulder?"

He kissed her lightly on the cheek, grabbing her hand as
they started down the hallway. "Ah, Agent Scully. Remember
our little talk about fetishes the other day? Well, I've
never really told you about my erotic dreams of a
threesome."

She was all too aware of his presence as they walked down
the hallway, breathing in the scent of him with a soft sigh
of pleasure. Dangerous footing be damned. Well aware of all
they were risking, of the effort they had put into
developing their professional partnership, of the fact that
getting involved with your partner simply wasn't a good
idea, Scully resigned herself to the inevitable.

Despite her bold comments about Mulder not getting a lay,
except with Miss Take-Me-Now-I'm-Always-Ready, she knew
instinctively that everything was about to change. She
realized that she couldn't turn away from what was about to
happen, and, from the arousal evident in Mulder's furtive
glances, he wasn't going to either.


Peabody Club
Downtown Alexandria, Virignia
9:15 pm, Friday


"Well, here we are," Mulder announced unnecessarily,
turning the keys in the ignition and feeling completely at a
loss for words. He felt like a teenager. The arousal was so
thick in the air that he could almost taste it, and he found
himself avoiding Scully's gaze in a determined effort to
make it through the evening without throwing her in the
backseat and settling this once and for all. Whatever game
she was playing, Scully was good at it.

He didn't think he had ever seen her so beautiful, the
lights from the club casting a dull glow inside the car,
reflecting off the pearls draped around Scully's neck. He
should have known she was a pearl woman.

He imagined walking up slowly behind her to silently unclasp
the necklace, letting it fall to the ground as his hands
roamed gently around the front of a dress which was clearly
designed with seduction in mind. Closing his eyes, he felt
the zipper in his hands, cold against his skin, and pulled
down on it sharply, hearing the dress hit the floor with a
clunk along with Scully's moan of approval.

The slam of the car door caused him to jump forward, lying
for a moment on the horn, the sharp sound bringing a smile
to Scully's lips as she walked over to his door. Damn, but
she was getting off on this. He could tell from her swagger
around the car, the way her eyes never blinked under his
gaze, the fact that she wasn't wearing any underwear. He
knew that just by looking at her.

"The party starts inside, Mulder, not in the car. Why don't
you leave Miss Big Breasts in the backseat and come join
me?"

Knowing that the party had started long before they even got
to the car, Mulder grabbed Scully's hand and headed toward
the entrance.

"Mulder, did you ever go to any fraternity parties while
you were in school?" He thought for a moment, willing his
focus back on the social aspects of the evening. "Well,
while I wasn't always an introvert, I can say that the beer-
guzzling, aimless hook-ups, and pervasive male bonding were
never really my thing."

Staring at her backside as they walked into the door,
realizing with a pain of arousal that she certainly wasn't
wearing anything under that dress, he missed the first
glimpse of tonight's festivities. "Welcome to your missed
college experience, Mulder."

The smoke hung thick around the room as the gathering of
obviously intoxicated thirty-somethings bounced around the
club. He eyed the pig gracing the center of the buffet
table, the bright red apple in its mouth standing out
against the dimming lights. Half the room was engaged in
what could kindly be called a conga line, with the group
scattered across the ballroom floor, running into chairs and
tables. A few others wore masks, giant concoctions with
feathers sticking out at strange angles. A large man with
impossibly red cheeks wandered by, strumming loudly on a
ukulele and singing an unrecognizable tune off-key.

Scully couldn't resist. "We have to bring in Miss Playmate-
of-the-Month, Mulder. She would blend right in." Meeting
Scully's laugh, he matched it with one of his own. "At
least we don't have the most dismal social lives of anyone
in Washington," he muttered, grabbing her hand and forcing
his attention away from his painful arousal and toward the
center of the fiasco.



Peabody Club
10:32 pm, Friday



"Mulder, you look..." She surveyed him closely, probably too
closely, but the obviously spiked punch was making her feel
heady with what she could only determine was extreme desire.
She was drunk, and she knew it. But little did Mulder know
what he was getting into. While Scully prided herself on her
all-too-professional work persona, she knew what could be
unleashed in her with a little alcohol and some serious
sexual tension.

Tonight had been just what they needed. Time away from work,
away from conspiracies and aliens and generally life-
threatening situations. It was time they needed together.
Only Scully had realized that she didn't want the night to
end. Or at least not the happiness she felt with Mulder.
Funny, she never thought she would be the one to break
first.

"I look like what, Scully?" Mulder was avoiding the
alcohol based on his designated driver status, but she
sensed it was something more.

A need to retain complete control, perhaps. An awareness of
the uncertain territory in which they were headed. The mask
someone had snapped on Mulder's head after he walked in was
somewhat askew, and he had rolled up his shirtsleeves in the
increasing heat and close confines of the darkened ballroom.
Scully realized he had never looked more desirable.

She pushed away her own mask and leaned closer in to his
intense gaze. "Hot, Mulder. You look incredibly hot,"
giggling slightly at her boldness. Pulling his mask off his
face, he raised an eyebrow at her. "Hot as in sexual hot or
temperature hot?" Bless his determined-to-take-things-slow
heart, she thought. Flicking her tongue lightly over his
ear, she giggled. "What do you think, Mulder?" She didn't
want to take things slow anymore.

Ignoring the questioning look in his eyes, she pulled
herself onto his lap, pushing both of them further into the
darkness of the corner table. She wasn't surprised when she
felt him against her leg, hot and so unbearably hard. If
Mulder wasn't sufficiently aroused by this point, she would
have been worried. Damn the consequences. It was time to
finish what they had started so long ago.

He opened his mouth, she supposed in a valiant attempt to
answer her question, and she took the opportunity to trace
her tongue lightly over his lips, tasting the sweet
combination of sweat and soda and something so deliciously
Mulder. She was rewarded by his low groan and the push of
his legs up against her.

He tasted good. Hesitating only a moment, she slipped her
tongue inside his mouth and flickered it lightly against his
teeth. If you could taste arousal, this was it. Unbearably
hot, causing a rush of desire to go through her. God, she
wanted this man.

"Scully," he managed to whisper into her mouth, arching up
against her and running his fingers up through her hair. "I
don't know that this is the time or the place, and I don't
know if you realize how..." She silenced his obligatory
protests with another flick of her tongue, reaching her hand
down between them to trace the outline of his warmth through
his trousers.

This was the perfect time and place, she decided. "Mulder,
I don't think either of us has the energy to get back to the
car, and I would rather have you here than throw you down in
the middle of the dance floor."

Mulder felt a sharp twinge at Scully's words, although he
wasn't sure if it was her words or her uncharacteristically
deep voice that caught his attention. Taking a quick glance
around them, observing the remnants of the drunken party in
the distance, he met his partner's kiss with one of his own,
pulling her head down to his with a frustrated moan. She ran
her fingers around his neck, pushing him back against the
wall as she shifted her weight slightly.

"This is my show, Mulder. And you are all mine." Blinking
twice, he let a smile briefly cross his face. "You can have
round one, Scully. But then it's my turn."

Over the low din of music and laughter, he heard his zipper
give way under her nimble fingers and, before he could
react, felt her warm hand surround him, stroking up and down
the length of his cock. "How did I know you would feel so
good, Mulder?" She drew out his name with a long sigh.

Scully deserved better than this, he thought somewhere in
the dark recesses of what part of his brain was still
functioning. She deserved candlelight and champagne, roses
on her bed and some serious foreplay. But, hell. The whole
damn week had been foreplay. Their entire professional
relationship had only been a preamble to this very moment.

God.

She was on him, he was in her, sliding almost effortlessly
deep within her warmth. He was amazed at how wet she was, at
how tight she was, at the way she looked down at him with a
mixture of delight and ownership and apprehension and
anticipation. "I didn't want to wait anymore," she managed
to stutter. "A benefit to not wearing anything under a
dress." Mulder, for one, couldn't manage an articulate
thought. He couldn't think past where they were joined, hot,
wet and oh so incredibly sweet.

With her dress bunched up between them, she began to move,
slowly at first, as if committing every touch, every
sensation to memory. She moved around on him in a slow and
agonizing circle, closing her eyes briefly against the
almost unbearable arousal. Watching her in the darkness, it
was as if the drunken sounds of partygoers steps away
disappeared, and all that remained was Scully. His Scully.
Who was he kidding? He had always belonged to her.

She gripped him with her thighs, and began to rock on his
lap, eyes closed, holding his shoulders. Her breasts were
right in front of his face, so he licked slowly at her
nipple through the cold fabric with his tongue. She was
riding him silently, her hands moving to his neck.

Scully explored him as she rode, slowing and touching his
chest, moving gently down to grasp him at the waist. She
tugged at his tie, still impaled on his thick erection, and
kissed him, her tongue soft against his own. Their kissing
was gentle, and then she began to rock on him again as their
mouths met again and their tongues found each other's.

She was sitting on his lap. She was sitting on his cock.
Mulder tried to bring some semblance of order to his
thoughts, but found himself lost in a swirl of pleasure and
agonized ecstasy. He leaned back against the wall, committing
the image to memory. Scully, with her head thrown back,
her lips parted slightly, her eyes closed in intense
concentration. The music pounding dully in the background.
The lights shifting drunkenly around the room. The realization
that he loved this woman.

He leaned back again, lifting his hips to drive deeper into
Scully's welcoming wetness. She bore down with her own hips,
grinding herself down onto his penis, taking every inch into
her. This was not the time and place for slow, exploratory
lovemaking. That would be later. Mulder knew instinctively
that there would be much more of this to come.

Surprising him, Scully found the floor with her feet,
straddling Mulder as he leaned back in the chair. She went
down on him all the way, taking every inch of him into her
body. He opened his mouth to speak, to tell Scully to slow
down, but could only find the energy to groan softly.

She was gently rocking again, safe in his arms and steady on
his erection, and he was holding her tight, moving his hips
as best he could to her rhythm. Scully was moving, moving in
pleasure and rising ecstasy, now almost wantonly riding his
stiff cock, on the verge of her orgasm, her control lost.
Whatever pretenses or games they had been playing were long
gone, buried underneath the incredible sexual pleasure.
Mulder was amazed, watching the Scully he thought he knew
disappear into this alluring, shockingly physical creature.

He held her tight as she tensed, moved faster, teetered on
the edge. She clung to him and quivered, peaking, her body
wracked with pleasure, as he held her tight and felt her
finally start to explode around his thick penis, hard for
her, and deep inside her. At last, she came with a silent
shudder, a long exhalation of breath into the darkness.
Mulder joined her, unable to stop the rising waves of
climax, his mouth in her hair, muffling his cries of
pleasure.

He struggled to catch his breath, an awareness coming over
him of their location and precarious position. Scully, too,
was breathing hard, still balanced on his lap. It was
perfect. He said so, whispering into her ear with a strange
voice that sounded so unlike his own.

She giggled. "Ah, Mulder, you are just lucky I waited until
we got to the party. I was ready to fulfill your dreams of a
threesome in the hallway at my place." He stared at her in
amazement, pondering all the new and delicious things there
were to learn about this woman. Touching him lightly on the
nose, she kissed his lips with a devilish smile. "But,
Mulder. I never had a chance to tell you about my own little
fetish." Staring at Scully, his wantonly sexual partner and
newly discovered exhibitionist, he could only laugh.

END