Subject: detour Date: Fri, 30 Apr 1999 01:01:21 -0700 From: Trixie To: trixie@wgn.net Only Mulder could get me to do this. He gets hurt and I fall at his feet trying to make it better. He looks at me with that lost little boy please hold me look on his face and I melt. Any reservations I have over giving everything I have to give to him are erased and I am his. I am his and he is mine. I live this life with him of riddles and half truths. Yet this relationship I have with him is the most honest of my life. And because of the honesty of this relationship I find myself in this position. He never would’ve asked it of me had he not really needed to hear. So I sit here and do as he asks. I’m singing. My left hand rests on his shoulder, my other hand cradling his upper body to me, holding his head securely in my lap. He could’ve died tonight. He came so close. Again. I run my fingers lightly through his hair, reassuring myself that he is alive. His breathing is even and I can feel his chest moving against my legs with each breath he takes. Mulder is a risk taker. Yet today he had been willing to leave the forest because he agreed it was best. He agreed with me. I have a modicum of trouble trying to wrap my mind around the concept. He listened for once. And I am grateful. So grateful I find myself repeating nothing but the first verse and the chorus of this song. Why don’t I repeat the second verse? It’s not like he can hear me anyway. He’s asleep. My fingers once again trail into his hair, brushing it away from his forehead, tunneling through the soft strands. I find a blade of grass and I gently pull it away from his hair, tossing it to the side. My hand automatically returns to his head, stroking and soothing him like I would if he were a child. I smile slightly at the thought, Mulder is and isn’t a child in every way possible. He can tear at my heart and wrap me around his finger like the most accomplished lost little boy. Yet he can also make me think, make me feel more then any man ever has or ever could before. He makes my heart sing. Literally, it seems. I force myself beyond the chorus this time. I force myself into the second verse. And I reach the line I had been dreading, because if I say it out loud, it makes it real. It becomes a part of who we are, Mulder and I together. The Mulder/Scully team, the partnership. Somehow any action on my part to speak it aloud would cause something to happen. It would be inevitable. I don’t know why, it just would. Mulder can spout all the innuendo he likes - we don’t take it seriously, either one of us. Oh, once or twice I’ve caught a note of longing in his voice - but that’s all it’s ever been. A note. The rest has been a light teasing he excels at. A teasing which makes me smile my special Mona Lisa smile at him, knowing I have to give him something back for what he gives me. And I hope that a simple smile does at least half for him what his easy humor does for me. “If I were the King of the world. . . . Tell you what I’d do. . . . . I’d tear down the bars and the cars and the wars. . . . And make sweet love to you. . . .” There, I did it. That wasn’t so hard. I sung it out loud. Okay, so it was kind of whispered under my breath. But if he’d been awake, he would’ve heard it. I roll my eyes at myself. Key words there Dana. If. He’d. Been. Awake. I feel him move on me. Oh God. He’s turning over. I lift my hands so they hover over his body as he turns until his face is pressed into my stomach, his hands on my hips. They rest their gently, not moving, simply holding. My breath catches in my throat. I am afraid to move, to breathe, in fear it might wake him. Then I feel him move. His palms move to the front of my body, over my stomach. His face presses there, against me. Mulder runs his hands under my parka, lifting it enough so his head slips under the material. My breath exhales on a soft moan as his lips press against my bare stomach. His fingers move to the buttons on my jeans, undoing them quickly and he pushes them down a little. His mouth brushes down my stomach to the tip of my panty line. His breath hovers over me, warming my skin. I sit motionless, suppressing a little moan. I bite my lip. His fingertips trail along my panty line. An index finger slips beneath the band and gives it a little tug. I swallow deeply, my entire body frozen. This is a moment of decision. I can do one of two things. I can stay where I am, not aid him in his endeavor to remove my clothes. I can sit motionless, while gently but firmly pulling his head from me and bringing it down to rest, praying he will drift off again. It would work. We would never mention it again. We would pretend it never happened, go on with life. Maintain the status quo. Tow the line. Business as usual. Or. . . . . I lift my hips slightly and his hands push my jeans and panties down my thighs. I unbutton my parka and quickly shove it off, settling myself back on top of it. Mulder's mouth does not leave my body once. While the rational side of my brain takes his constant connection with me despite my movements as a sure sign that he is in fact awake, the rest of me refuses to admit it, and continues with its delusion that he's caught in the throws of some waking dream. Mulder's mouth begins sucking along my stomach, moving down my hip bones, nipping and licking his way around my pelvis. His hands close around my hips and his thumbs rub slow circles low on my belly. He places light kisses on my pelvis, moving down to my thighs. I try to spread them wider, but the jeans around my knees stop me. I groan in frustration and thread my fingers through his hair, urging him up. He rubs his cheeks against my inner thighs, the slight beard scratching my skin. His tongue snakes out and licks at my clit and I bite my bottom lip to stop myself from screaming. His mouth moves to the side and sucks at me, moving up and down. My hands clench and unclench in his hair. His tongue moves down and licks at me again, this time harder than before. He begins to lap at me, his nose rubbing my clit with every move of his mouth. He stops his movement for a moment and I feel him inhale deeply, then exhale. His breath sends a shudder down my spine. I moan as his lips move back up to my clit, licking me as one of his hands moves down, slipping a finger inside me. His finger moves in and out of me slowly and his tongue continues licking my clit, tongue and finger moving in rhythm with one another. I let out little moans as my nails scrape down his scalp. His mouth fastens over my clit and he begins sucking, his finger moving faster inside me. I scream his name as I come, my hips pushing up against his face. He starts licking me again, prolonging what could possibly be the greatest orgasm of my life, his finger still stroking me. I peel my eyes open slowly and focus on the big beautiful stars above me. Funny, all the times we've been in the forest, I've never just looked up and stargazed before. Mulder removes his hand from me and I let out a little groan. He places a kiss to my stomach and reaches below me, pulling my panties and jeans up. I lift my hips with what little energy I have and he fastens my jeans. I pull my parka back on and fasten it again. Mulder turns from me again, and lays his head back on my lap, the back of his head pressed against my stomach. His breathing becomes deep and even and I wonder if he's asleep. I slowly creep my fingers back into his hair again, and cradle his other arm in mine. We are now in the same position we were before. The slightly tingly sensations running through my body argue that it did in fact happen. Mulder continues to slumber on. ~ END