Title: Carnival of Dreams Author: lovesfox E-mail: lovesfox@home.com Rating: NC-17 (sex, and the f word twice) Category: Smut, WoX True Blue challenge fic Spoilers: None that I can think of Summary: I say again, smut. But if you must, Mulder and Scully at the carnival. Archive: If you'd like, but please let me know Disclaimer: Sigh. Mulder and Scully do not belong to me. I'm just borrowing them, and hopefully letting them have more fun then Chris Carter and company would. Author's Note: This is in response to the Whispers of X True Blue Challenge for July 2001 Thanks to: Traci, as always, and Nancy, for beta. Elements: -An interruption in the middle of sex -A carnival visit -Mulder and Scully see an actual fairy/sprite -A bottle of Excedrin -Glitter body paint that won't come off -Mulder and Scully in an old-fashioned photograph -Dripping ice cream Carnival of Dreams by Lovesfox Mulder's Apartment "Oh, baby," Mulder groaned into her ear, and his thrusts became more frantic. Almost wild. Scully's hands had been sliding up and down his sweat-slicked back, dipping occasionally to cup his flexing buttocks, but when he began pistoning his hips that way, she gave up and just held on for the ride. Something that evening had put him in an extremely amorous mood, and while she wasn't really complaining - hell, any chance to orgasm several times in one night was certainly nothing to complain about, and orgasm she had - she was getting kind of tired. Exhausted, actually. And Mr. Energizer Bunny just kept going and going...while she kept coming and coming... Oh, great, now she was rambling deliriously. Mulder was literally fucking the intelligence out of her. Too late she realized they were moving across the bed with the force of his thrusts, and before she could cry out a warning, they had fallen off the bed. Pain. In her backside and her shoulder. Oh, and her head. Most definitely her head, for it had thunked on his hardwood floor quite loudly. And of course, Mulder had landed on top of her. Groaning, she struggled to extricate herself from beneath his rather heavy form. He grunted when she shoved at him, but obligingly rolled off of her with a groan of his own. She came up on one elbow and saw that he now lay face up and spread-eagled, his proud member still hard and standing tall. The Energizer Bunny lived. Scully sat completely up, and immediately wished she hadn't when the room spun sickeningly. Lowering her head, she brought her hands up to cradle her skull, moaning again. She waited a moment before tentatively sliding her fingers through her hair to the back of her head, touching the sore area gingerly. A nice lump had already risen, and she winced when she accidentally pressed too hard on the tender spot. "Scully? You okay, baby?" Mulder asked then, his hand coming to rest on her bare thigh and squeezing lightly, fingers tickling and teasing. Seductively. Just like his voice had been. Oh, good Lord. He wanted to continue. Did nothing stop him? She wasn't used to this side of him, the one that was able to rejuvenate himself after less than half an hour of rest in between rounds. *Many* rounds. She'd met frisky Mulder plenty of times, and hell-bent-on- seduction Mulder, but never Iron Man Mulder, capable of multiple erections in a few short hours. Sex was the absolute last thing on her mind now. How to break it to him gently? "Forget it, Mulder. Go jack off in the shower while I wait for the drilling in my head to stop." Okay, so that might not have been exactly gentle. Downright rude was more apt. Oh well, sue her - she was hurting. His hand left her thigh with amazing speed. "Oooh-kayyy," he said, sounding a little disappointed, but not at all angry or wounded. "Hey, Scully, you really hurt?" he asked then, and she sensed him shifting to his knees, and trying to look at her face. "Yeah, Mulder," she replied. "I hit my head pretty hard on the floor." "Shit, I'm sorry, Scully," he said next. "Come on, let's get you up on the bed." Scully let one eye open, and saw that he was now standing beside her. She also couldn't help noticing that he was still erect, his penis jutting out and bobbing gently in the air. How could she not? It was just inches from her face. On any other occasion, the sight would have been comical, possibly arousing. But not right then. A second later his hands were curling around her upper arms and he was tugging gently. She rose with his help, and wobbled slightly once she had gained her feet. "Easy, now," Mulder said, and helped her to sit on the edge of the bed. "Hey, Doc, look at my finger." Scully pried both eyes open, the opened one having shut again when another wave of dizziness ran through her, and squinted at Mulder's finger, held up before her nose. "Track it," he said, and moved it slowly from one side to the other. Scully smirked woozily, but followed the digit obediently with her eyes. "This is weird. We've changed places." "Hey!" he said indignantly. "I haven't had a head injury in months!" "Thank God," she muttered. He was such a pain in the ass when he was injured or sick. She pushed his hand away irritably, and rose on still unsteady legs. The fact that she was no better a patient she studiously ignored. "I'm okay, Mulder. I just need to take some Tylenol or something, and get some sleep." Undisturbed sleep, she added silently. "I'll get it for you," he said. "You just lie down." "Mulder, I have to pee too," she told him baldly. Normally she spoke about bodily functions in more delicate terms, or medical ones at the very least. But her head was throbbing, and she really, really wanted to crawl into bed. For sleep, and nothing but. "I can handle going to the washroom myself." With that said, she arched her eyebrow at him, silently requesting he move. When he had done so, a pout already formed on his sensuous lips, she crossed the floor to his washroom, managing not to wobble too badly at all, and completely uncaring about her nudity. Once in there, she turned on the light and shot a quick look at herself in the medicine cabinet mirror above the sink. Face kind of pale, other than bright red cheeks, and a flush down her neck and chest. That was her during sex flush, which had yet to fade. With all the sex they'd had tonight, she was surprised she wasn't glowing. She turned to go to use the toilet, and a flash of color caught her eye. She looked down at herself. Well. She really was glowing. Parts of her were, anyway. Her stomach and thighs were streaked with a sparkly sort of silver...What was *that*? Oh. She suddenly recalled the stuff Mulder had called 'body lotion' and liberally and gleefully smeared over her skin somewhere in between round one and round two. Apparently it had actually been some sort of glitter body paint. She should have known he was up to something by the glint in his eye and the tiny smile he could not quite contain. She hadn't noticed it in the low light of his bedroom. She thought about quickly trying to wash it off, but her bladder gave an unhappy twinge again, so she decided a shower in the morning was good enough. Moving to the toilet, she relieved herself, and then washed her hands and splashed some cold water on her cheeks. After drying herself off, she opened the little door of the cabinet. Spying a bottle of Excedrin triumphantly - for Mulder was notorious for failing to keep his cabinets stocked, medicine or food-wise - she reached up to grab the bottle. It was empty. Figured. Just like the orange juice she had thirstily grabbed after round three sometime ago, and removed from the fridge to discover he had returned it to the shelf anyway. Grumbling, Scully scanned the three small shelves, her hand still clasped around the empty Excedrin bottle. A spare toothbrush, still in its wrapper and rather dusty, his deodorant, a mini bottle of Scope, dental floss, a condom that was dustier than the toothbrush, and one white capped prescription bottle, its prescription label turned in to the wall. Hmmmm...Leaning over the side of the sink, she dropped the empty Excedrin bottle into the garbage and then straightened, reaching for the other bottle. Reading the label quickly she saw that it was Percocet, and only 4 months old. That would do just fine; she was not concussed, nor was the head injury serious. Uncapping the thankfully not empty bottle, she shook one into her hand. Hesitating before recapping it, she reconsidered the aches and pains of her head and body, and shook a second pill out to join the first before twisting the cap back on and returning the bottle to the shelf. Probably overkill, but it wouldn't hurt her. And she knew the resultant sleep would be deep, which was what she needed. Popping one in her mouth, she turned the cold water tap on high and bent closer to the spout, wincing as the motion caused a flare of dizziness and nausea, and scooped some water up to her mouth with her other hand. Quickly flicking her head back, she swallowed the pill, and then repeated the cycle with the second one, managing not to gag from the slightly bitter taste. A quick but vigorous scrubbing of her teeth was next, and she was done. After patting her mouth and hands dry, she flicked the light off and headed back to Mulder's bed. The flickering blue of the TV lit the room. He was lying propped on the two pillows, top sheet pulled negligently to his waist, idly flicking the remote control for the TV. When she approached the bed, he turned the TV off and put the control on his night table before sitting up and reaching to the foot of the bed. Right beside his alarm clock, the green digital numbers glowing the time. 12:40. In the morning. No wonder she was tired, she usually turned in by 11 o'clock unless they were on a case. Even on the weekends. He held up a tee shirt to her, saying, "Here, you can use this to sleep in." Scully took the soft cotton from him, recognizing it as his one of his tee shirts, and whispered, "Thanks, Mulder." She slipped it on and then knelt on the bed, leaning over to press her lips on his cheek, her hand touching his shoulder briefly, in a mute apology for her bitchiness of minutes before. Crawling onto the bed, careful of her sore derriere, she slid under the sheet he had flicked back for her. The pillow that was considered hers, being on 'her' side of the bed, had been returned, and she sank into it with a groaning sigh. Hopefully the Percocet wouldn't take too long to kick in, and she'd be out like a light in no time at all. The mattress shifted, and just as she sensed Mulder leaning over her, she felt his lips caressing her cheek. "Sleep well, baby," he murmured. "Night." She didn't even mind hearing 'baby' again, an endearment she only permitted him to use while they were engaged in various and sundry sexual pursuits. "Night, Mulder," she returned, and carefully rolled onto her side, facing him. Her hand stretched out - searching for, and finding, his hand. Their fingers entwined loosely, she drifted off to sleep. *** Carnival of Dreams She and Mulder paid their fares, and walked under the giant sign that boldly and colorfully displayed the carnival's name. They strolled along the dry, browned grass that had been beaten flat by hundreds of feet before them, wandering aimlessly through the various booths of the midway. The air was ripe with a myriad of scents and smells. Food, of course - corn dogs and greasy hamburgers, cotton candy and candy apples. Straw, thrown about to add a certain look to the carnival, sweet and grassy. Scully inhaled deeply and giggled suddenly, grabbing for Mulder's hand. She felt like a kid again. "Come on, Mulder, let's go on the Scrambler!" She tugged at him, but it seemed like he was digging his heels in. "Mulder, what's wrong?" she asked, stopping and turning to study his face. His slightly pained-looking face. "Ah, Scully," he said, now looking sheepish. "Me and the Scrambler don't get along so well, you know what I mean?" It took a moment for his meaning to sink in. Oh! She managed to stifle her smile, and moved back to his side, sliding her arm through his. "Okay, no problem, Mulder," she said easily. "What do you want to do then?" "I always liked the tents," he replied. "You know, the Strong Man, and the Bearded Lady." Not surprising in the least. But she held the thought, and merely said, "I was always afraid of the Bearded Lady." He yanked her closer against him and wrapped his arm tightly around her shoulders. "I'll protect you, Scully." "My hero!" she said, and batted her eyelashes at him. He grinned at her, and ducked in for a quick, hard kiss on her lips. She returned his grin, and they continued on, their hips bumping companionably, his arm heavy but wonderful on her shoulders. They talked about all sorts of things. Which was better - candy floss or candy apples, if the games of chance were just that, or a set-up to steal your money (Scully voted that it was all a scam, and Mulder vehemently defended the games), and whether Scully had ever wanted to be an acrobat, like he had. She hadn't, but told him that Missy had wanted to run away and join the circus when she was eight. Though she had been fascinated by the jugglers. "Mulder, if you didn't go on the rides, what else did you do besides play games and visit the tents?" she asked at one point. "Just some of the rides, Scully," he told her. "I liked the Ferris Wheel and the merry-go-round. But my favorite part next to all the shows was the Haunted House." She should have known, she told herself, and laughingly said, "It figures!" He mock-growled at her and then kissed her in apology. Before they got to the part of the carnival where all the 'attractions' were, Scully spied a booth where they took old- fashioned photographs. The ones where you could dress up in costume, and were in black and white. "Mulder, can we, please?" she begged. She'd always wanted one - where she was a saloon girl sitting on the lap of a rugged cowboy. She turned her smile up to its highest wattage, and cuddled up to his side. "Sure, Scully," he said magnanimously, and let her lead him over to the booth. Unfortunately one of the saloon girl's dresses had gotten ripped earlier, and the other one was beyond enormous on her. Scully sighed and tried not to pout. "Hey, Scully, how about this? I'll be the Sheriff, and you can be my prisoner?" He leaned in very close to her, his hand sliding around her waist and stopping dangerously close to her ass, and whispered, "My prisoner of *love*." She snorted inelegantly. "I have a better idea," she said. "I'll be the sheriff, and you can be *my* prisoner." She left off the rest of his sentence, although she threw in a waggle of her eyebrows. Surprisingly, he agreed, and five minutes later, she was attired in a reasonable facsimile of a Western Sheriff, while Mulder was dressed in a black and white, horizontally striped prisoner's uniform, complete with matching hat. The barker posed them against the backdrop, and took their picture. She bought two, one for each of them. They had to come back in one hour to pick them up, so Scully carefully tucked the tag into the little inside pocket of her Levi's before they resumed their stroll towards the tents. But once again they detoured. For Mulder had spied a big sign at one of the food booths, of a giant ice cream cone. "Come on, Scully. Ice cream, my treat." Of course he then had to mock her for choosing one scoop of plain old vanilla, while he got a triple scoop of vanilla, chocolate and strawberry. And proceeded to gobble his down, while she licked delicately at her own cool treat. He paused, and quirked an eyebrow at her. "Watching you eat that is turning me on, Scully," he told her, and darted in for another kiss. His lips were cold against her own, and she could taste the chocolate and strawberry on his tongue as he pushed it past her lips. "Mmmmm..." he mumbled against her mouth. He broke the kiss, looked around them, and then grabbed her free hand with his, tugging her after him, much as she had tried to do so to bring him to the rides. They ended up off the beaten path, Scully nearly tripping over the many wires that were threaded in and out of the backs of the booths as she followed him. Seconds later her butt and shoulders were pressed against the flimsy wood of the back of one such booth, and the bulge in his jeans was pressing into her stomach. She almost dropped her cone, and opened her mouth to complain, "Mul -" His name was broken off by his mouth slamming down onto hers, his tongue delving forcefully inside again. Not painfully though, but masterfully, the way she liked it. She brought one hand up to fist in his hair, moaning, and still had the presence of mind to hold her ice cream cone out and away from them both. The kiss went on and on, their tongues rolling and sliding over each others, until finally Mulder pulled back, gasping for air. His forehead was resting on hers, his ice cream-scented breath blowing over her nose and cheeks. She realized that she could feel something cold and wet dripping all over the hand with the ice cream, and made a moue of distaste. "Mulder," she said plaintively, and pushed at his chest with her other hand. "My ice cream is dripping all over my hand." He stepped back so that she could bring the cone to her lips and try to lick some of the stickiness from her fingers. He grinned and leaned in to help her, his tongue flicking over her knuckles, and sending little darts of pleasure shooting along her spine. It took her a moment to realize that one of his hands was cupping her ice cream-covered one, and the other was resting at her hip. "Mulder, where's your ice cream?" she asked, puzzled. When he jutted his chin to the left, she stepped to one side to look where he had indicated. What was left of his triple cone lay upside down in the dirt and straw, slowly melting into a pinkish-brown puddle. She giggled, she couldn't help it, and mused that she had been doing an awful lot of that in the last little while. Which was unusual, for she was not really a giggler. Being with Mulder in such a carefree, fun place was obviously a good influence. "Thanks a lot, Scully," he mock-whined, and with a quickness she envied, leaned in and took a huge bite of what was left of her ice cream. He grinned at her around the melting mouthful, traces of it on his lips. It was her turn to surprise him - by quickly going up on tiptoe to lick at those traces. Once they had finished her ice cream together, Mulder eating the cone in three big bites, they found some napkins and cleaned themselves up. "Come on, Scully," he said, and took hold of her hand, his thumb playing with hers as they walked along. "To the Bearded Lady!" They did see the Bearded Lady, after paying the obligatory 3 ticket entry fee per person, and she wasn't as scary as Scully remembered from her childhood. They also saw the Strong Man, "The World's Shortest Man and Woman", or so the sign proclaimed, and a sword swallower. It was as they were leaving the sword swallower's tent that Mulder saw it. "See a Real, Live Fairy" the sign proclaimed. He was immediately hooked, dragging Scully over to the ticket booth to buy more, for it was ten tickets each to enter, as the sign beneath that one said. "A fairy, Scully! We've got to see her!" There was no one else in the line-up, in fact, there was no one staffed at or near the entrance to the tent at all. Scully tried to stop Mulder, but it was impossible. He raised his voice a little and called out a hello at the tent's closed flap. Scully's ears buzzed then, and she rubbed her hands over them in irritation. She shook her head to shake off the lingering feeling, and said, "Mulder, it's closed. Come on, let's go to the Ferris Wheel." "Uh-uh, Scully," was his reply. "There's no closed sign up. I want to see her." He pushed at the flap, moving it open a few inches and called again, "Hello?" That strange buzzing again, and this time Scully saw Mulder shake his head too. Then he smiled, and plunged inside, dragging her with him. The tent was not very big, and dimly lit. There were two rows of chairs lined up along a velvet rope that divided the tent in two, with the largest part being for the visitors. On the other side of the rope there was... A fairy. An honest-to-God fairy. She was talking Tinkerbell here. A tiny, glowing, fluttering little being with wings, in a gilded cage. Her mouth dropped open. Mulder made a sound, and it broke her stupor. She turned her head to see him staring at the fairy, his mouth hanging open as hers had, his eyes shining with astonishment and wonder. He seemed to sense her gaze on him, and slowly turned his head to meet her eyes. A smile blossomed on his face, a beautiful sight to behold, and he said with reverence, "Scully, it's a fairy." "I see it, Mulder," she replied slowly, equally stunned. Mulder stepped forward, right up against the rope, the metal hooks squeaking against their moorings in protest and lifted a surprisingly steady arm out to try and touch the cage. The buzzing was back, and it grew louder, and louder, and louder... *** Scully awoke suddenly, her eyes opening widely. What the hell was that noise? For a moment she was disoriented, not sure where she was. But then she remembered she was at Mulder's place, after a very energetic night. And the buzzing was his alarm clock, which he must have pre-set. She sat up quickly, and shifted onto first her hip, and then to her knees so that she could lean over him and slap the offending clock, which read 5:30. Hard to believe, but the alarm and her movements had not disturbed Mulder. She sank back onto her rear, studying him. Snickering quietly, she mused that she must have worn him out last night. Mulder snuffled gently in his sleep, lying sprawled on his back, his face turned slightly towards her, mouth open. Early morning sunlight streamed through the slats of his window blinds, flickering over his body in an interesting pattern. Thank God it was Saturday, or otherwise she'd have to get up and go home to dress for work. She lay back down, and consulted her body. Headache gone, a slight twinge in her backside, and a little bit of residual fog from the Percocet. All in all, not too bad. Closing her eyes, she decided to try and get a little bit more sleep. But the memory of her very vivid dream popped in her head, and her eyes flew open again. Mulder and she at a carnival. The Midway, the barkers, the old- fashioned picture. Her sappy behavior. Eating ice cream and kissing Mulder. Talking about rides and the games, seeing the shows. The fairy. The awe and amazement on Mulder's face, his stunned wonderment. It had all been *so* real. Scully rolled onto her side facing him. She had to tell him about the dream. She lifted her arm and laid her hand on his chest, right over his sternum. His skin was warm, and soft, the smattering of hairs there tickling her hand. Her mouth went dry and she felt a flood of moisture between her thighs. Just from a casual touch. It had never been this way for her before - to be aroused so quickly, so easily. Swallowing thickly, she shook him gently. "Mulder," she said, not yelling, but not whispering either. His eyes opened slowly, sleepy and a warm hazel. He blinked with that same slowness and rolled onto his side so that he faced her completely. His smile was as sleepy as his eyes. "Mmmmm..." he said. "Mornin', Scully." He brought his hand up to scrub over his face, then cupped her cheek, his thumb rubbing gently. "Love waking up with you." Ohhhh. The man said the sweetest things. Scully's cheeks turned pink with pleasure, and she whispered, "I love waking up with you too." She leaned forward, morning breath and all, and their lips met, tenderly, fondly. Sighing against his mouth, she shifted closer, bringing her body flush against his, and deepening the kiss. She forgot all about her dream with the feeling of his calf hairs tickling her toes, his hands twining into her hair, and his rapidly burgeoning erection prodding her middle. Lifting her leg, she draped it over his hip. One of his hands left her hair to cup the cheek of her ass, and he pushed her lower body into him as he surged upwards at the same time. His hot, hard cock surged into her waiting wetness easily, and they both sighed at the contact. Scully tightened her leg around him, her heel not quite digging into his lower back, and swept her hand up along the curve of his spine to curl around his nape. Her breasts rubbed against his chest, the hairs there teasing her hard, pointed nipples. Mulder began teasing her elsewhere too. He had pulled his cock out almost all the way, so that just the head was inside, and was circling his hips slowly, his hand on her hip holding her steady, so that she could not thrust herself onto him all the way. It was maddening, in a delightfully teasing way. She pulled her lips free, panting slightly. "Mulderrrrr," she groaned, and tried to buck her hips. "Slow and steady wins the race, Scully," he husked out, his voice evidence of the strain of his actions. "I don't wanna race, Mulder," she moaned. "I wanna fuck!" His hips surged a bit, giving her just a little bit more of what she wanted very badly. "Oooh, Scully...I love when you talk dirty to me." He did too, and she remembered with satisfaction how she sometimes had him begging when she did. Smiling wickedly, she brought her lips to his ear, and began whispering hot, detailed instructions of exactly what she wanted him to do to her. "Oh, baby!" he groaned, and thrust his cock fully inside her, hard. "You *know* what I like!" she half-sang into his ear. Mulder was also turned on when she quoted lines from songs of the 50's. She was not sure why, and had found it a tad strange at first, but she had learned to use that bit of knowledge to her advantage. He moaned. And began to thrust in steady, firm strokes. A moment later his hand slid from her hip and between their bodies, his thumb landing unerringly on her clit. Her turn to moan. She also hiked her leg up a bit higher, and tilted her pelvis slightly, to get the angle just...right. Ahhhhh. "Oh, Mulderrrrr," she sighed. "Right there. That's...perfect!" "Baby," he murmured, and began to flick his thumb over the extremely sensitive bundle of nerves. At the same time he added a swivel of his hips, that brought the head of his cock into contact with that sweet spot deep inside her. Clenching both her jaw and her inner muscles, Scully began to counter-thrust, swivelling her own hips as well. Sweat was beading on her forehead, and slicking Mulder's back, and she could feel her orgasm coiling tighter and tighter. She knew his orgasm was fast- approaching too, could tell by the near-constant grunts escaping his mouth, and the tenseness of his back muscles. Forcing her eyes open, for she loved to watch Mulder come, she saw that his eyes were squeezed tightly shut, his face a rictus of pleasure and pain. She brought her lips close to his ear again, and whispered, "Come for me, Mulder. Come for me." "Scullyscullyscully..." he chanted her name over and over again, and his thrusts increased in speed. His thumb left her clit, and he moved his hand back to grip her hip. She began rhythmically squeezing her muscles on his cock, her nails digging just slightly into the skin at the swell of his ass, and rubbed her breasts harder into his chest. The teasing stimulation on her nipples and the workings of her own insides helped bring her to the edge, and she felt the first flutterings of her orgasm. Mulder did too, shouting her name hoarsely, and he began bucking erratically, his fingers nearly bruising on her hip. The waves washed over and around and through her, and she finally had to close her eyes with the ecstasy. She tossed her head back, her neck arched, and her mouth opened on a silent scream. That soon became vocal as she felt him release the hot jets of his sperm on her spasming walls. "Mulderrrrrrr..." One last jerking thrust from him, and he collapsed back into the mattress, pulling her with him so that she lay half-sprawled atop him. "Scuhleeee..." he sighed. "Oh, baby." He was still half-hard inside her, and she moved her hips in tiny circles, trying to prolong the residual quiverings of her core. Mulder obligingly assisted her, thrusting upwards gently. But all too soon it was over, and she eased herself off his softening cock with a sigh, feeling tender. She stayed at his side though, and pressed her lips to his chest, just above his left nipple, before laying her head down to listen to his still thudding heartbeat. She might have dozed, she wasn't entirely sure, but when Mulder let out a fairly loud snore, she jolted up in surprise. Glancing at the clock, she decided they both must have fallen asleep, for it read 6:40. Her stomach let out a grumble then, and her butt was aching a little, from her tumble off the bed. She felt sticky and sweaty too, and decided it was time for a shower. Scully shifted off of him, and sat up, her hand going to his chest to wake him, just as she had earlier. "Mulder," she said, regular voiced. "Hmmmm?" he mumbled, his head moving restlessly on his pillow. "Mulder," she repeated. "I'm going to take a shower. Want to join me?" She wasn't sure if either of them were up to anything, but she loved sharing one with him regardless. The man had the most incredible fingers, and did a wonderful shampoo. "Yeah, baby," he said. "Be right there." "Okay, I'll start it up," she said, and rubbed his chest lazily before crawling off the bed. She glanced back at him before entering the bathroom, and he had sat up, and was rubbing his hands through his spiked hair, looking sleepy and sexy. Once in the bathroom, she used the toilet and brushed her teeth, before turning to start the shower. Swishing the plastic shower curtain aside, she bent to turn on the taps. Once the water was pleasantly hot, she aimed the shower head down so the water wouldn't spray out of the shower, and pulled the nozzle to direct the water flow from the tub tap to the shower. Stepping in carefully, she closed the curtain and adjusted the head once more, until the slightly stinging spray was hitting her body. She wondered what was keeping Mulder...what had happened to 'be right there'? Sluicing water over herself, she noticed anew the streaks of body paint on her stomach and thighs. She scratched idly at her stomach, using her fingernails lightly. Nothing came off. At all. Frowning, Scully reached for the loofah she kept in the wire basket hanging in the opposite corner and squirted some of her body gel onto it. She began rubbing it firmly onto her stomach, working up quite a lather. After about a minute, she turned to face the spray, and rinsed the soap off. The paint was still there. "MULDER!!!" The End feedback gratefully accepted at lovesfox@home.com