From: "Syrenslure's Fan Fiction" To: Subject: [XFNC17ff] New: Beholding Beauty (1/1) NC-17 Date: Monday, April 08, 2002 9:19 AM Title - Beholding Beauty Author - Syrenslure E-mail - love2watch@softhome.net Rating - NC-17 Classification - SR, S/Sk Spoilers - minor-to none, though I'd put it around season 6, post-Triangle. Keywords - Scully/Skinner, erotica Summary - Skinner comes across Scully working late in the basement. Notes: You mean that there's supposed to be a plot... Well, damn, I totally missed that and went straight to the sex. My bad. Many thanks to bugs who did a wonderful job beta'ing this, only to have it sit on my hard drive for the last three months. I appreciate all of her wonderful comments that helped turn this into something that I hope you will enjoy. Disclaimer - Everywhere except in my twisted mind, Chris Carter owns X-Files, Dana Scully, Walter Skinner and Fox Mulder. Occasionally the beautiful goddess portrayed by Gillian Anderson completely shorts any contact I may have with the real world and smut ensues. This is the result. Improv - #2 coal ~ clock ~ social (sociable) ~ bright http://groups.yahoo.com/group/xfiles_improv/ ********** Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Her chest rose and fell in a slow steady rhythm. Her breasts pushed out against her shirt with each breath. Her eyes scanned back and forth across the pages. Occasionally, her tongue would slip out to wind its way across her luscious lips. Other times, she would curl and uncurl her toes, or flex her stocking covered feet in little stretches. He watched, entranced by all of the little idiosyncrasies of her relaxed posture. He stood in the doorway, gripping the handle of the partially opened door. She was so absorbed in her task that she hadn't heard him approach. Hypnotized by the slow, methodical way she slowly rolled the pen back and forth with the tips of her fingers as she held the end between her small white teeth, he just stood there and watched her. She leaned back in the chair, precariously balancing her stocking-covered feet on the edge of the desk. Her jacket had long ago been discarded over the chair in her normal work area. Her black Italian pumps lay a few feet away, haphazardly discarded. Two stacks of red and white folders lay on the desk beside her. One pile was neatly stacked high in the middle of the desk. The other, near her right arm was of about equal height, but rested on a much shakier foundation. It appeared that she had been here a while. Skinner sighed and looked at his hand, resting on the handle. Quarterly reports were due this week and he couldn't wait for Kim to get back from vacation. He sighed and dipped his chin toward his shoulder, rubbing his hand over his head and down his neck to relieve the tension of frustration that often accompanied his work these days. He checked the clock and realized it was after eleven. He had a meeting with the director in less than eight hours. He didn't feel like being sociable. "Damn it, Walter, it's an office, not her boudoir. Stop blushing like a idiot and do something before she looks up and sees you staring at her like a schoolboy looking at his first pinup." Giving up his internal struggle, he straightened his shoulders and cleared his throat, then knocked on the already opened door. "Agent Scully, good evening." Scully started at a bit in her seat, but he saw her relax as she recognized him. They were on much better terms these days, but he really didn't want to disturb her. Her past animosity and distrust, especially from when she thought he might have been involved in causing her illness, still bothered him at times. He slowly approached the desk, speaking in a low, level tone. "I've finished my review of these files. I was just returning them." Scully gave a small smile, broken by a wide yawn. Her azure eyes squeezed tight as her chest rose up, threatening the security of the small pearl buttons anchoring her shirt. She looked at him sheepishly and blinked a few times, clearing her tired eyes. "Thank you, Sir. I'm finishing up myself," she gestured toward the stacks of files on Mulder's desk. She frowned slightly and shifted her shoulders back and forth. Then she put her arms behind her and stretched. Her chest rose up and a small groan slipped past her lips. Her tongue darted out to wet them as she released the tension in her upper body. Unfortunately, he felt as if all of it had been shifted to his lower body. He felt himself begin to harden at her sensual show. He cleared his throat again and searched for a distraction. "Where's Mulder?" "Well, Sir, would you like the official story or the truth?" she asked cheekily. She decided not to bother with the usual subterfuge they both knew she engaged in regularly regarding Mulder. Skinner laughed. "How about both," he replied, smiling, as he propped his hip on the desk. He leaned there, half sitting, with his arms crossed low on his chest and waited for her response The deep bass sound of his laugh caused a spark to flare in her belly. "He should do that more often," she thought. She stared for a moment, watching the starched white shirt pull across his shoulders. She sucked her lower lip into her mouth, catching it between her teeth, as that spark became smoldering coals. "Well, the official story is that he received an important call from an anonymous informant and went to meet them for very reliable and relevant information." Scully flashed Skinner a wry smile, indicating how much credence he should lend that theory. "The truth on the other hand-- and we must always honor the truth-- is that Langly called and invited Mulder to a poker game. In exchange for the idea of some quiet, productive work time and promises of caffeine and sugar, I told him to go. However, I don't really expect him back before morning when I have finished the report and he will present himself properly penitent for having abandoned me to the chains of bureaucracy." He smiled, amused at her tone, but knew that the sarcasm belied the fact that she was sharing the truth with him, a truth different that Mulder's version of events. Silence stretched between them. As they each searched for something to say, they seemed to become aware, at the same moment, that her foot was now in his lap, being massaged by strong capable fingers. He used to do this for Sharon. Back when they were first married, they would sit on the couch and he would take her feet in his lap while she told him of her day. It was those moments of intimacy that he missed most in his relationships, few that they were. And then there was Scully: strong, beautiful, brave, and spirited. God, he loved her red hair and fiery, willful temperament. His thoughts often strayed to prurient matters when he came into contact with her, no matter how many times he told himself that was wrong. Her mouth parted in surprise and arousal and her breathing deepened. Scully felt like a kitten being stroked and petted by a loving owner. They stared at each other, and his eyes darkened as he cautiously slid his hand up her silk covered calf. She bent her knees slightly, the rolling chair drawing them closer. "What the hell am I thinking, sitting here, panting after my boss?" The moment of clarity was dismissed even as the thought occurred to her. She was tired, aroused and too far gone to be less than self-indulgent. It was Skinner, and she wanted him. She reached for his tie and pulled him down toward her. Their mouths fused together as if someone had suddenly flipped two magnets around in opposite directions. He held her firmly in his strong embrace and she arched up against him. Dana wrapped her legs around his hips for a bit of stability as her world tipped on its axis. Still gripping his tie, her free hand slid up his muscular arm, traced a caress across his shoulder and curled her fingers into the short fringe of hair at the back of his head. They broke for air and stared into each other's eyes, panting. Their faces were only inches apart and their breath mingled intimately. "Scully... Dana... " Skinner whispered, his voice rough with passion. "Dana?" She heard the question and answered sincerely. "Yes, Walter, " she pulled him down again. A notebook, coffee mug, a pencil cup and sharpener all flew in different directions with a sweep of his arm. He pulled her to him and lifted her up. He turned and sat her on the desk, with her skirt bunched up around her hips. Dana leaned back, bracing herself on her arms. He unbuttoned her blouse. Slipping one pearl button at a time from the small loops, he kissed each bit of flesh that he revealed. After the fourth button, he cradled her breasts in his hands and buried his face in her cleavage, nuzzling her breasts. He sucked steadily at the side of each breast, leaving two small bruises on her fair skin. They stood out in stark relief: marks that were the obvious product of a passionate encounter. She was branded, for the world, as his. His thumbs flicked back and forth over the tight, sensitive points of her nipples. His teeth scraped over the exposed flesh and a liquid heat pooled between her thighs, soaking her pantyhose. She reached for him, as desire flooding her. She loosened his tie and fumbled a few of his buttons open. He worked on separating her from her shirt. The white silk hung from her wrists. Her nails scraped through his chest hair. Skinner kneaded Scully's breasts and lifted them out of the cups of her still fastened bra. Walter ground his erection into the juncture of her thighs. Her wetness and his combined to dampen the front of his pants. She sucked on his tongue as he caressed her hips, her back, her breasts, and her stomach. Finally, one hand found purchase in her hair, tangling in its bright, russet strands. The other snaked between them to rub at her clit through the silk. Their tongues dueled back and forth, massaging, probing, in a never-ending dance of desire. A growl vibrated between their lips and his fingers tore through the material, rending it downward in one rough motion. Dana sent a furtive thank you to whatever saint was paying attention that she no longer listened to her mother and wore anything between herself and the silk of her stockings. She moaned into his mouth as his fingers slid into her slick folds. Skinner pulled back and looked at her flushed face and swollen lips. His thumb played across her clit as he watched her. "You are so beautiful." Her pale skin blushed brighter and she gave him a happy smile. Dana ran her hands over his chest and used her ankles against his firm ass to pull him closer. "So are you, " she answered breathlessly. Slowly he kissed his way down her neck. He followed her clavicle with his tongue. He drew lazy, winding circles around her breasts and down her belly. He kept going till he was kneeling between her thighs breathing deeply the intoxicating scent of her arousal. He pulled her hips closer to the edge of the desk. She moved toward him, knocking files off the desk and sending the brass nameplate crashing to the floor. Neither seemed to notice the mess as Walter buried his tongue into her waiting sex. Dana cried out and shifted against him, rocking toward his questing tongue. He sucked her nether lips into his mouth and then pulled back, very lightly scraping his teeth along them, opening her up. His tongue pushed down into her core. He moved his hand up and pushed two fingers into her aroused flesh and licked his way up to suck on her swollen pearl. Her hips arched up off the desk, as he pumped his fingers in and out of her. He continued to lick and suck at her clit and she came, digging her fingers into his shoulders through starched white cotton of his shirt. Skinner lifted his mouth from her and slowly moved his fingers in and out against the waves of her orgasm. He stilled when Scully drifted back to earth. He stood and she pulled him to her once again, kissing him deeply and passionately. Her nimble fingers slid his belt free of the buckle. She unfastened his pants and reached inside his briefs to free his cock. Dana held him reverently and slid her fingertips in light caresses over the skin. Her hand twisted up, and over, dragging her thumb through the slippery pre-cum that flowed from him. Scully lifted her hand to her mouth. She looked him in the eye, and her tongue darted out to trace over her thumb. She sucked it into her mouth, closing her eyes and giving a mew of pleasure. Skinner arched his hips against hers in response. The tension between them was electric. Scully leaned over the desk and grabbed for her purse, which had tipped, spilling some of its contents. She rooted through it. Quickly, she located a condom and held up her prize. Dainty white teeth tore at the wrapper and she pulled out the condom. She slid the sheath over his length. They both moaned and arched in response. Holding him firmly and tightening her legs around his waist, she guided him into her. "Oh, God!" she cried out as she felt the delicious sensation of being stretched and filled. Walter groaned in response. He felt as if he had been imprisoned in a velvet vise. He pulled most of the way out and then rocked back into her, slowly prolonging his own sweet torture. Scully clawed reflexively at his pecs. She sought out his nipples and he grasped at her hips. He sped up and she urged him on, encouraging a feverish, frantic pace. Quickly, he drove into her again and again. They strained against each other, pushing together, pursuing some transcendent perfection. They fused together like quicksilver as he swelled even further and she tightened more around him. He slid one hand between them and squeezed her throbbing clit. "Aahh, oh God!" she screamed as she hit her peak again. The fluttering of her internal contractions set him off too, calling, "Dana!" They hugged each other tight, not moving, still intimately joined. Eventually their breathing returned to normal and their heart rates slowed. Walter felt himself begin to soften and reluctantly left her. He disposed of the condom in some tissues and began to dress. Dana removed her ruined stockings and shoved them into her purse. They turned toward each other, both a bit awkward as the after-sex glow began to fade a bit. Dana smiled a bit shyly and pulled Walter into an embrace. He relaxed and hugged her back, kissing her softly on the top of her head. Neither saw Mulder slowly turn from the doorway and head back toward the stairs. The coffees he carried in the cardboard container were no longer as hot as he sat them down in front of the security guard on his way out of the building. End ********** Always, Syrenslure Rev Bem - You see, not only is there a divine, but he has a twisted sense of humor. (Andromeda) The BtVS Writers' Guild: Because fan fiction makes anything possible. http://syrenslure.cjb.net