Subject: NEW: Don't Speak (1/1) **NC-17** by Leyla Harrison From: "the *enigmatic* Dr. Scully" Date: 12 Jul 1997 15:00:02 -0700 Don't Speak by Leyla Harrison First off, this story follows up a story I posted a while back called "Mended Hearts". That story was set after the episode Paper Hearts and contained one teeny tiny spoiler. You don't necessarily have to read Mended Hearts - this should be pretty self-explanatory. Disclaimer: Oh, I hate these. I really do. But since they're necessary, here they are. Mulder and Scully aren't mine. Never were. Never will be. I try to give up the fantasy that they someday will be, but for now I have to be satisfied with just borrowing them for the purpose of my creative musings. They belong to the Master of Yuppie Morbidity, Chris Carter, and 1013, and FOX, and whomever else has legal rights to them. Classification: SA, MSR Rating: NC-17. Summary: Mulder and Scully are already an established couple (they were established in my earlier story, Mended Hearts). Mulder makes a big mistake...and although he's suffering from some angst, Scully's really the one who's in a lot of emotional pain. Can our favorite duo find their way back to each other? Spoiler warnings: Post-Paper Hearts but no spoilers. Minor Szyzgy spoiler. Tiny reference to Small Potatoes. IMPORTANT: Just keep in mind that everything after Paper Hearts has not happened yet. In other words, Leonard Betts has not happened, Never Again has never happened, and most important, Memento Mori HAS NOT HAPPENED YET. Long live Agent Scully. In this universe, there is no cancer. As usual, all comments, constructive criticism, and thoughts on life in general should go to me at starbuck72@netaxis.ca. I live for e-mail. And now, on with the show. ******************************** I knocked on the door to Mulder's apartment lightly. I didn't want to wake him if he had dozed off on the couch. We had been through a bad string of cases lately, and the Paper Hearts case, as we called it, had just about killed him emotionally. But after that...well, after that, Mulder and I had become lovers, and he seemed relaxed, at ease almost, for the first time in what seemed like years. It made me want to smile every time I saw him. It made me have to stifle a goofy grin when we were in Skinner's office. It made me want to laugh when we walked down the halls of the Bureau building. And I knew that I wasn't the only one who was relaxed. People would have figured something out if they had seen either the Ice Queen or Spooky crack a smile, let alone start laughing. I felt wonderful. For one glorious month, time just coasted by. Although there had been no discussion about commitment and love and all that, it was understood. I thought we had made it clear from the first night that we had made love that we weren't going to get involved with anyone else. That very thought made me laugh. Like we ever would. Neither of us had a personal life to speak of outside of each other, anyhow. Mulder and I were careful. Extremely careful. We knew that we couldn't get caught together, and so we made sure that we only spent time together when we normally would, working late on cases, going over notes, finishing up reports. Only when we were on cases the second hotel room never got used. Going over notes late would mean that we would tackle the notes in bed after we had tackled each other the moment we got over the threshold of one of our apartments. Finishing reports even once included a quickie in our office, with the door locked, and in almost complete silence. That particular time had been incredible. I had cried out as he moved within me and he was forced to put his hand over my mouth as I got closer and closer to orgasm, which ended up arousing me even more. And Mulder pressing his face into my neck as he let out a wordless groan into my skin as he came with a shudder. Emotionally, I was happier than I had ever been in my life. Sexually, I was constantly in a general state of arousal whenever Mulder was around me. Physically, I felt full of energy and life. I tried to balance the bag with the Chinese in one hand while I made sure to sling my briefcase back over my shoulder, all the time reaching for my keys. Mulder and I had always had keys to each other's apartments. It certainly came in handy now that we were lovers. Mulder tended to like to slip into my apartment late at night when he couldn't sleep. He would curl into my arms in bed and sleep like a baby until the sun came up. Then, sometimes we would make love, shower together (once he even made love to me in the shower - a first for me) and he would head back to his apartment to dress and meet me back at the office. I struggled with getting the key properly inserted into the lock without dropping anything, and I was rewarded by the deadbolt turning. The door swung open with a soft whoosh, and with my hands free for the moment, I was able to get a better grip on the paper bag containing our surprise dinner. "Mulder--" I called out, stepping into the apartment, and then froze. He was sitting on the couch, with a woman that I recognized as a forensics agent who worked with Pendrell. She was over him, in some strange position that I mentally noted looked as if she had pushed him back on the couch. But the thing that caught my eye was the fact that her mouth was locked on his, kissing him. And his hands were in her hair, as if he was either trying (and failing) to push her away. Either that, or he was unable to stop himself from enjoying the passionate kiss. Oh, God, it was like an instant replay of walking in on him when he was with Angela White. Only this time they were on the couch instead of the bed. And there was no rare planetary alignment going on. I gasped aloud. And dropped the Chinese food, hearing a splat on the floor as I did. Mulder and the woman both jumped from the couch, and Mulder immediately pushed at her, pushing her away from him. "Scully. It's not what it looks like. It's--" His face was flushed and his voice was faltering. "Scully, I can explain this." My heart was pounding, and I realized that my entire body was shaking. Even my voice was trembling. "Well, Mulder," I managed to get out. It was all I was capable of. I waited. He didn't say a word. I took in the scenery. The coffee table was littered with the remains of a bottle of wine and two glasses, both drained. So it wasn't just an accidental kiss. They had spent the evening together. While I was working. While I was performing an autopsy. When I was done working late, I had driven to get dinner for Mulder. All the while he was enjoying a glass of wine with whatever her name was. Mulder and I had never enjoyed a bottle of wine in front of my fireplace, talking to each other about the stupid things we did in high school - that had been Eddie Van Blundht. We never went to a movie. We never did all the nice things that couples did in relationships that you read about, like walks in the park and elegant dinners. The sexual relationship we had been carrying on was just that. Sexual. Oh, God, was that all it was to him? What was all that shit he had told me about me being his strength? Was it all bullshit? To her credit, the female agent didn't say a word. She simply bowed her head and stood there, letting Mulder and I stare the other one down. I tried not to imagine what would have happened if I hadn't arrived when I had. I tried to understand why Mulder was just standing there. Why he wasn't explaining. We had an unspoken agreement about trust, and once the trust was betrayed, there was going to be no simple retrieval of it. And this was that betrayal. Although we had made no promises to each other, we both had assumed that our being together was going to be permanent. I suddenly realized that I had been assuming all on my own. Finally I gathered my composure as best as I could and wiped at tears that I hadn't realized had ended up on my cheeks. "Scully--" he said, realizing that I was going to leave. "Please..." "No, Mulder," I told him with finality. "I knew our partnership couldn't last forever," I said, putting emphasis on the word partnership. I didn't know if this agent knew about Mulder and I, and I certainly didn't want her to run back to the Bureau in the morning, with rumors of me hysterical over "losing" him. "Scully, Jesus, you can't just walk away like this. You can't." He sounded both desperate and angry at the same time. "Yes, I can, Mulder. And I don't want you following me." I swallowed hard, trying to realize the ramifications of what I was saying, making sure that I meant them. "Scully, I'm sorry," he pleaded with me. "Don't go." "Mulder, I don't want to hear those words from you, especially not now. Not when you aren't sure that you mean them." "I *do* mean them. Scully--" "No, Mulder." "Tomorrow. We can talk about this tomorrow. You'll have calmed down..." He was definitely desperate now, grasping at straws. "Calmed down?" I asked. "How can you think that I would calm down about this?" I closed my eyes for a moment, and the image of Mulder kissing her was still there, in sharp detail. The fact that he hadn't even explained what was going on was still fresh in my mind. I opened my eyes. "Goodbye, Mulder." I walked out of the apartment, shutting the door behind me. I stood in the hallway, my back to Mulder's door and tried not to cry. My head bowed, I felt as my entire body began to shake, but not a sound came from my mouth. Tears slid down my cheeks. Mulder opened the door. "Scully," I could hear him say from behind me, surprised to find me still standing there. I lifted my head and walked away from him, never once turning to face him. ****** TWO WEEKS LATER Skinner had granted me a personal leave of absence. Mulder had called a few times in the first few days, but I hadn't picked up the phone once. I turned down the volume on my answering machine, and then deleted the messages from him so that I wouldn't have to hear his voice. I wouldn't have to hear one word he said. I spent a lot of time at my mother's house, refusing to discuss the situation with her. I forbid her to mention his name, not even in passing conversation. It hurt her when I said that. I could tell that she had known that something was going on with Mulder and I and was hoping for a wedding for her baby girl eventually down the line. And now this. She seemed to sense that this wasn't just a simple lovers quarrel, and respected my desire to not talk about the situation or about him. I spent a lot of time at Melissa's grave. I sat among the tall grasses around the tree that was a few feet from her grave and did a lot of writing. I filled sheets and sheets of paper about how angry I was at him. I then filled even more sheets of paper about how much I loved him, about all the crazy things we had survived. Together. Then I was back to writing about betrayal and loss, and about how he was responsible for those feelings being so prominent in my life. I spent some time at home. When I was there, I was definitely not myself. With no job to go to every morning, I would stay up late, idly watching bad movies on cable until all hours. I wasn't hungry. I hardly ate. The only real meals I consumed were the ones my mother cooked for me when I was there or the ones she would bring over to my house. I would sleep late into the morning. I would wander around the house in my bathrobe, trying to decide if I wanted to take a shower or not, and ending up wasting hours watching soap operas or talk shows on television. I couldn't help myself. I had no energy emotionally or physically, and knew that I was slipping into a depression that was taking me over. I reluctantly called Skinner and asked if I could work back at Quantico. When the X-Files had been shut down, I hated the fact that as much as I knew that I was a scientist and that teaching was what I should be doing, I missed the excitement that I got from being out in the field with Mulder on cases. But now I didn't care. I craved the monotony of class after class all day long. It kept me busy, and kept my mind from turning into jello. Skinner didn't say one word about the X-Files, except to tell me that my move to Quantico was considered a temporary transfer, not a permanent one, and that for all intents and purposes, I was still part of the X-Files Division. Which meant that Mulder was still my direct supervisor. But he never contested me being at Quantico. After those first few days, I hadn't heard from him at all. One day when I was actually at Bureau Headquarters to meet with Skinner, I contemplated heading down to the basement. I slowly went down the steps to the basement level, careful not to have my heels click too loudly on the concrete. But I could see that Mulder's office door was closed before I was even all the way down the steps, and so I turned around and went back up. I missed Mulder. Constantly. But I tried to remind myself of the fact that I had walked in on him kissing that woman. His hands in her hair the way he used to have his hands in mine. The fact that I stood there and he didn't say one word. He didn't say that it was a mistake. He didn't say that it was an accident. He didn't even say that she had tried to seduce him. All he had said was that he was sorry. And he didn't seem very convincing when he had said it. But it didn't matter. All I could hear in my head was the words he had murmured to me the first time we had made love; the little terms of endearment that I knew he had never used with anyone else when we were together, when he was pressed close to me, his heart beating against my chest. You and me We used to be together Every day together I really feel I'm losing my best friend I can't believe This could be the end Angrily, I turned the volume down on the radio in the car. Stupid song. Stupid. That damn song played on half the radio stations on the dial. Did they have to overplay it so much? How did such a silly song get so much damn attention? Traffic was uncharacteristically bad on I-95 getting back into DC from Quantico, and it was the third time I had heard the song. Why did everything remind me of Mulder? Why did those words cut me like glass? I wanted to forget him. I wanted him to become a distant memory. I wanted him... That was exactly the problem. I still *wanted* him. More than anything, I wanted him in my life. And yet it was too painful. Memories of the last time I saw him were still vividly etched into my mind, as they would be forever. It wasn't so much that there had been another woman in his arms. The fact was that as our eyes had locked, we were both able to see the bond we had spent four years forming as it crumbled and fell to the ground. There was no way that we could pretend that we could go back and fix things. But no matter what, I still wanted him. I still loved him, damn it. With a stubbornness that closely resembled my father's, I angrily twisted the knob of the radio and switched the song off. I wasn't going to think about it. Wasn't going to think about him. Instead, I navigated my car into my parking space and killed the engine, resigning myself to another evening alone, miserable... No, don't think that way, I warned myself. You'll just spend the night crying yourself to sleep, like you did last night. I gathered my things from the car and went into the building, my body aching, my head pounding, my eyes already filling with tears. No, I thought. I would not think about Mulder. I would not think about him again tonight. I stepped into my apartment and turned on the lights. I shut the door behind me and turned to hang up my coat. Then I gasped. Mulder was sitting on my couch. "Scully," he said, upon seeing me. He stood up. His voice was strained, choked with tears. "No," I breathed, taking a step backwards. "Oh, God." I was suddenly overwhelmed by feelings I thought I had safely tucked away behind the daily mask of strength and self-control. Somehow I had known that I wasn't able to do it. I wasn't able to hide my feelings from myself. "Scully, I know you're...surprised to see me..." he started, but I cut him off. He took a step towards me, an arm outstretched towards me. "Don't - " I muttered, then louder, "don't you come near me." I stared at him and there was a moment of silence. Heavy silence that filled the air. Mulder hesitantly took another step. "I said don't," I repeated, my voice firmer now. I pulled my gun and aimed it at him, although my hands were shaking. I knew I was being irrational, and for once, for once in my life, I didn't care. "Scully," he pleaded, his eyes trying to soothe me. "*No*." The word came out harshly. My voice broke on the word, and the gun wavered slightly in my hands. "Please, Scully. Please give me a chance to explain. Please give me a second chance. You can't just push me away without giving me a chance to explain." "You had time to explain. I don't remember hearing you say anything that night in your apartment," I shot back. He lowered his head and went silent. Minutes went by. My arms were aching from training the gun on him I could feel sweat forming, trickling down the small of my back, sending a little shiver through me. Finally he lifted his head and stepped closer to me. Closer still, until he was face to face with me, the gun right at his chest. His eyes were soft brown pools, dark and warm. Oh, God, I missed his eyes. I missed his face. I wanted to touch him. I wanted to scream at him. My eyes grew moist, and I inwardly cursed myself for the weakness. Slowly, I lowered the gun. His face filled with relief. My anger flared up. I reached one hand up and slapped him, hard, before I had realized it. My eyes went wide and I clapped a hand over my mouth, not believing what I had just done. "Christ," he gasped, also surprised at my action, touching his the corner of his mouth and bringing his fingers down again to see that there was blood on them. He licked it away with the tip of his tongue. "OK," he said, shaking his head for a moment, "I guess I deserved that one." "I'm angry at you, Mulder, in case you weren't clear on that. I want you to leave." I tried to sound like I meant it. I knew I didn't. "Sure you do, Scully." He touched my shoulder, his fingers warm. "Oh, God," I cried, and he pulled me to him, crushing me against his chest. I fought him for only a second. Then I buried my face in his neck, smelling faint traces of cologne mixed with that smell that I knew was Mulder's and Mulder's alone. I let the gun clatter to the wood floor, my arms going up around his neck. "Mulder," I murmured, clutching at him. He was holding me tightly, so tightly. "Scully," he responded, his voice choked with tears. I pulled away from him to search his face. He pulled me to him again. "I just want to hold you. I just want to feel you against me." He released me only enough to look at me. "God, Scully, you feel so good. I love you, Scully," he breathed, and I started in his arms. "Don't pull away. Please." "Mulder --" "I'm sorry, Scully. It was something I had to do for Skinner. I wasn't supposed to tell you. She was leaking information - I wanted to tell you, but Skinner said not to - just to get her and get it over with, that I wouldn't have to ever tell you." "Is that true?" I asked. He nodded. "You can check with Skinner. Ask him. But right now, right now, I just have to touch you, Scully. I just need to kiss you." He pulled me closer to him and crushed his mouth against mine, his lips covering mine. I didn't protest. Didn't fight him. Just gave in to the kiss. His lips moved over mine insistently. Harshly. As if he was starving and I was his food. I felt his tongue lapping at my lips, and I parted them, letting him move into my mouth. His tongue swept into my mouth, deep strokes over my teeth, the roof of my mouth, the back of my tongue. His hands were in my hair, his fingers threading through the strands, pulling my head back so he could gain better access. His mouth left mine for an instant and I gasped. He moved his mouth to my neck, placing light kisses along the hollow of my throat, and I clutched at him tighter, pulling his body closer to mine, pressing him against me. He rotated his hips against mine insistently, and I arched my body against his, hearing him groan and letting a small gasp escape my lips at the sound. I tried in vain to pull back from him. "Mulder," I breathed against his mouth, reveling in the feeling of the warm air from his lungs on my lips. How long had it been since I had been with him like this? Too long. His hands skimmed down my sides, pulling me closer to him, pressing my body into his firmly. His erection was hard and firm against my stomach. It made me shudder with arousal. "You have no idea how much I want you," he muttered into the hollow of my throat. My head was buzzing. I knew. I wanted him too. "Mulder," I murmured, as his hands went for the crepe shirt that I had tucked into linen pants. My fingers fumbling with the buttons at my neck. "No, let me," he whispered, and I didn't stop him. He undid the first few buttons and leaned in, his breath warm on the skin of my neck before he kissed me again. His hands went up to frame my face for a moment while we kissed. His hands were at the top of my shirt again, unbuttoning it completely. He reluctantly pulled his mouth from mine and looked down at me. "Oh, Scully," he sighed. His hands skimmed over my chest, down over my rib cage. He lifted my breasts in the plain ivory bra I wore enough so that they lifted in their cups and quickly went to brush his thumbs over the nipples. I gasped aloud and reached for him. The clasp was in the front. He undid the small plastic fastener and my breasts sank slightly. I felt like I was pleasantly premenstrual, my breasts heavy and warm. My shirt was still on my shoulders. I was warm with it on. I shrugged it off my shoulders, and Mulder slid my bra off after it. He pressed his face into the space in between my breasts, kissing me there. I let him. His hands were cupping my breasts from the sides, so that he was practically holding one in each hand. His thumbs would occasionally brush over the nipples, just barely, enough for me to hold his head tighter in arousal. His hands slid down to cup my ass, to slide over the sides of my still clothed thighs. It felt so strange to be naked from the waist up in Mulder's arms, and I needed to feel his skin as well. I pulled his jacket off and it dropped to the floor. He lifted his head and helped me as I pulled his gray t-shirt over his head. I brushed my hands over his chest as if I had never touched him before. His muscles were taut and I slipped my hands over his nipples, knowing how sensitive they were. He gasped, closing his eyes briefly. He bent his head to take one of my nipples in his mouth, gently swirling his tongue around the areola before flickering over the nipple itself. I needed him. I wanted him. I wanted him to take me somewhere where we could lie down. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere dark. Somewhere where he would make love to me all night. "Mulder," I whispered. "The bedroom." "I can't wait that long, Scully," he murmured, and he was undoing my pants then, and I heard his zipper, and he was sliding my slacks and panties off me. He guided me back a few steps and I felt the cold wall against my back, and I gasped. Mulder's hand went behind my head, to the back of my neck, and he kissed me. His cock was hard against me and I reached for him, stroking him from base to tip, hearing his moan as I did. "Inside," I whispered against this lips, guiding him towards me, closer, until I could feel the tip of him at my opening, where I was the wettest, and I gasped as he jerked up and slid into me. Deep. He slid in deeply, and I threw my head back and closed my eyes. Having Mulder inside me was like nothing I had ever felt before in my life. When we had first gotten involved, I had reveled in it. I had wondered how I had ever enjoyed sex before with anyone else. Now he moved within me, hot and silky, and I couldn't help but let out gasps of pleasure. His hands were on my breasts as he moved, his fingers capturing my nipples and tugging at them, gently yet insistently, as if to remind me that he knew every little detail, every little thing that I liked. "Mulder." My voice came out as a low moan now. His movements were faster, and my hips were meeting his. We were hitting the wall with each stroke. I would be sore later but I didn't care. I just wanted to come. I just wanted to see the look on Mulder's face, that look he got right as he was coming inside me, the tortured look and then the release. He was close to it now. "Dana," he breathed, and my mouth curved into a smile. "Come inside me, Mulder," I muttered, my mouth at his ear, my voice low. And with that, he slammed inside me a few more times, fast, and he groaned and I felt him begin to come. It was enough for me. I felt him and the contractions started in me as well, and I clutched at him as he groaned into my hair and I cried out. Moments passed in silence. Then he lifted his head from my shoulder and looked into my eyes lovingly. "Spent, Mulder?" I asked. He shook his head and slid out of me gently. I sighed. "Never with you, Scully," he said and picked me up, carrying me off to the bedroom. END Note: Lyrics from "Don't Speak" by No Doubt are used without permission.> -- The *enigmatic* Dr. Scully http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Vault/1377