Title : Breaking Point Author : Kelly Moreland Archive :Anywhere, just let me know. Spoilers : Mention of events in SUZ Rating : NC-17 Category : Angry SMUT.. Summary : Anger, passion, and grief are related, remember that. Feedback : is what keeps me writing. k_a_moreland@hotmail.com Disclaimer : In the big inning, CC *created* M & S, and the fans saw that it was good. Then CC proclaimed 'Let them have any fun, and I will sue you!' And the fans saw that this was bad, and did it anyway! ;-) Authors note : Thanks to Jemirah for all her help!! ;-) Breaking Point by Kelly Moreland The average time for deep grief mourning, is six weeks. Any Psychologist, or Medical Doctor can tell you that. After six weeks, it should start to ease. But it hasn't. Because he won't let it. It's now eight weeks, and I'm at my wits end. Maybe that's why I snapped today. I didn't mean to of course, it just happened. "Mulder, I think you should take a look at this file." I said, hoping to stir some interest in him. He's been for too dark and brooding, and it has to end. "Why?" He asked, not even raising his eyes from his steepled fingers. Anger flooded through me in an instant, all patience and understanding washed away in wave of annoyance. "Because it's our job?" I asked him, the biting sarcasm was obvious in my tone. He thumped his feet to the floor with a sigh of resignation and muttered, "fine." He didn't come to me, and I made no move to go to him. "Well?" He splayed his hands out with an impertinent glare. I leaned back in my chair, and folded my hands over my stomach. I wasn't moving. His eyes grew cold when he realized this. He stomped over to where I sat, and leaned in close to peer over my shoulder. Too close. He was actually pushing me with his body. "Oh look. Lights in the sky in bum-fuck Georgia. How nice." He drawled caustically, before returning to his seat. That's when I snapped. "Yeah. I guess you are to busy too look at anything, with your head so far up your ass." If looks could kill, I'd have died on that spot. "Fuck you." He hissed at me. "If it would wake you up, I'd do it!" I hissed back. He was out of his chair and crossing the room in a flash, leaning down with his face just inches from my own. "What is that supposed to mean?" His tone was poisonous. "What part of it stumped you?" I knew I should have stopped, but I just couldn't seem to. Grief is one thing, a two month long pity-party is another. "Watch it, Scully. I might take you up on it." "I repeat, if it would wake you up..." I trailed off, knowing he remembered the statement clearly. The muscle in his jaw jumped spasmodically, as he grabbed my wrist in a vice-like grip. "Is this what you want?" He growled, shoving my hand against his crotch. A second later I felt him begin to stir under my unmoving palm. "I repeat..." His forehead knocked against my own, as he grated. "If you say that one more time, I swear..." Something else took hold of me just then. It still baffles me, but desire cascaded over me, and I squeezed him, hard. His eyelids fluttered closed. His breath sucked in sharply between his clenched teeth, and his hips arched forward. "It is what you want, isn't it?" I asked, my voice sounding low and foreign to my ears. He was rock hard now, and I continued to rhythmically squeeze my hand over his sensitive flesh. His hips began to pump in synch with the pressure I applied. "Yeah. You want it." I whispered to him, not knowing what had gotten into me. "You want it bad." His eyes flew open and the look I got was pure lust. His hand plunged inside my shirt, and gripped my breast, pinching my nipple and making me gasp. His eyes darkened at the sound. With his other hand he yanked down his zipper and pulled out his erection. He curled my fingers around it and stroked both our hands along his length. The heat between my thighs was maddening. I stood up, forcing him to move his hand from inside my shirt. I stretched out with my other hand, and just barely reached the door to flip the lock. I turned back to him, flicking my thumb over the moisture that had begun to seep from his cock. I took a step back without releasing my grip, forcing him to follow me, and perched on the corner of his desk. Using just one hand, I began to hike my skirt up. His eyes were riveted on me, as his tongue darted out to flick over his lips. His breath was shallow and harsher now. When my skirt was around the tops of my thighs, I pulled him closer, and used my fingers to move the crotch of my panties to one side. I stroked the head of his cock up and down against my folds, and felt him shudder. I slipped him just inside and we both moaned. I put a hand on each of his hips, and drew my legs up around his waist. He leaned forward, resting his hands on the desktop. He drove in steadily, as I arched toward him. When he was completely inside me he stopped. "So good.. So warm.. So safe.." He panted against my cheek, starting to move in and out. I grunted softly with each deep thrust he made into me, feeling the tension in my body grow unbelievably stronger. His face was flushed and damp with sweat, as he stroked faster and harder. He slowed his pace, his face contorted with both pleasure and pain. "I've.. wanted.. this.. for... so.. fucking... long.." He accentuated each word with a slow thrust, causing me to bite down on my lower lip. His hand slipped in between our bodies, his fingers rubbing over my clit. I nearly screamed as my orgasm hit me. "Oh God." My voice sounded breathless and distant. I shook uncontrollably, my body still on fire. Still on the edge. He had slowed almost to a stop, holding himself back. I reached down, cupping is balls in my hand, and squeezed my muscles around him tightly. He shook his head. "No... Don't, Scully.. Jesus!" He gasped, pounding into me hard and fast. "Mulder." I cried, as the first spurt of his release triggered me again. With a hoarse yell, he buried himself deep inside me. We shuddered against each other for a long time. When I could lift my head to look at him, I saw tears streaking his face. Oh God. No. "Mulder, don't..." I whispered, feeling tears pooling in my own eyes. He shook his head. "It's not what you think." I brushed his tears away as he looked into my eyes. "What is it?" I asked, as he cradled me in his arms. "I love you." He drew a shaky breath. "I love you too." I replied, my heart swelling in my chest. I kissed him then and he returned it. Soft, and gentle, as he slipped out of me. We cleaned up silently, both a little surprised at what had just happened. But something had changed between us. He was open to me again, in a way that he had not been for a long time. He suddenly turned to me, and pulled into a tight hug. "Thank you." He said softy. I placed my finger over his lips, and shook my head. "C'mon." He said abruptly. "We're taking the rest of the day off." "We are? For what?" "To go back to your apartment and do this over. The right way." He smiled for the first time in weeks. A genuine smile, and I was glad to see it. Fini~ Respond to Kelly Moreland (k_a_moreland@hotmail.com)