From: Caroline Dennis To: Subject: NC17 Fanfic submission Date: Tuesday, October 16, 2001 2:17 AM Title: Hurting Category: MSR, Angst Rating: NC17 Author: Caroline Disclaimer: I could tell you they belong to me, but it would be a whopper of a lie! So kudos to the master storyteller CC, 1013 Productions and FOX. Although considering what they are about to do with season nine...I may just have to take them into protective custody! Spoilers: The aftermath of Two Fathers, One Son. Summary: A jealous Scully goes out of control. Dedications: To my friends Clair and Sloan, my sister Rachel and my wonderful beta Sallie. You guys inspire me. Feedback: Go on, tell me, you know you want too. You'll find me at peter_caroline@hotmail.com or at spangle1013@msn.com Authors Notes: See end. Part one: Breathing Space. Fourth Floor Bullpen Hoover Building Washington DC 1703 hrs She just needs some time, a few days maybe when she doesn't have to see him. Her mental reserves are completely depleted. She has no strength left to erect her usual barriers, and her emotions are uncharacteristically near the surface. Which is exactly why she needs to be away from him. So she can cry in private and find the inner determination to go on. She would never leave him, no matter how much it hurts. He will have to force her away, although he is doing a pretty good job of it lately. He is behaving so unlike the man she has fallen for. It's as if that bitch brings out someone she has never met. Diana Fowley. She has never truly hated anyone as much as she despises that woman. A woman who has a past with him. A past he has never told her about, never prepared her for. A woman he seems bent on listening too, whose very presense has altered him. A woman who knows him in the one way she does not. The way he is right now, isn't Mulder, not the Mulder she knows. The one she loves. Who trusts only her, relies only on her, and who can't and won't go on without her because he told her so. The man she has worked with for five years. Who not so long ago rescued her from the hellish frozen underbelly of the world, whilst he was reeling from a gunshot wound to the head. And that names but a single one of the countless times he has saved her life, or she his. "Her" Mulder, who stood in his hallway and basically begged her not to leave him. All the while looking at her with love that seemed to be coming from the very depths of his soul. The man whose unconcious and exhausted body she had cradled on the ice, while kissing his hair and whispering to him of her love. That was the only time she was brave enough to tell him how she feels. Only it wasn't brave was it? Confessing to ears that couldn't hear you. This man he is now, or has been lately, is someone she just doesn't know. A wall seems to have appeared between them. One that she can't seem to scale and that he isn't trying to. Attention that for so long has been focused on her is now focused elsewhere. She hates to admit it, but she just can't stand sharing him. *Childish, stupid, act like a grown up!* Scully pushes the heels of her hands into her eyes. Ruthlessly repressing the tears forming there. A cubicle in the bullpen of the Hoover Building is not the place for her to lose it. She needs some time off to regroup. The X-Files are being returned to them. As far as Scully knows, she is still Mulder's partner. Unless Mulder requests that Agent Fowley be assigned to him instead of her, that is how things will remain. Diana Fowley will still be a fact of life that she has to deal with. Although she knows that if Mulder has begun a personal relationship, a romantic relationship with Diana again, it will destroy her. It'll only be a matter of time. "Are you asking me to make a choice?" God, does he have any idea how those words of a few months ago have haunted her. She has no idea how her hurt, her disbelief that there was even a choice to make, did not show on her face. Since he uttered those words, she has heard them again and again. The words are always accompanied by the image of him holding Diana's hand, whilst she herself stands on the other side of a door, feeling suddenly so alone she could die. She recognizes her own arrogance now. Since her cancer she had not questioned her position in his life until Diana appeared. She had assumed they were on the same path, moving slowly but inevitably towards one another. Diana has changed everything, including him. "Scully you're making this personal." Doesn't she have that right? She hates remembering him saying that to her. Why doesn't he understand that it IS personal. That to her, anything to do with him is personal aswell as professional. The line between the two became impossibly blurred to her during her illness. It's all the same thing now. The thing she calls her life. She isn't sure of anything anymore. Her science, her faith, her belief in an ordered universe. He has challenged and changed those things. And now Diana has cut her adrift from Mulder. The remaining anchor in her life. The one thing she believes in and trusts in more than anything. Adrift from all that really matters to her. Without him as the one constant in life she is not fine. Not even close to it. Scully stands up suddenly. She is thinking herself in circles and she has to get away. Their basement office is still a crime scene after the murder of Agent Spender, so she could take time off now without feeling guilty about leaving Mulder alone. As if he even cares about her being there right now. He is probably helping Diana with the murder investigation as she sits here brooding. She needs time, space, a chance to rebuild her defenses; to try and construct another wall around her heart. Above everything else that she is, Scully considers herself a professional. She will cling to that, to her job and what remnants of detachment she can summon up to get her through. Picking up her phone she dials AD Skinner's assistant Kimberly. After arranging to take some personal leave days before the X-Files re-open, Scully gathers her belongings and heads for her car. She will get out of DC for a day, maybe two. Walk along the ocean and blow the cobwebs away. Being by the sea always helps her when her equilibrium is off kilter. Once she has had some time, she will be ready to re-enter the fray. Diana Fowley is not to be trusted. She might desire Mulder, hell that's blatantly obvious, but Scully understands what Diana's real purpose here is. To bring them, and the X-Files down. To rip them from one another by creating a rift that neither can breach. She knows Mulder will end up getting hurt, being used. No matter how blind and obtuse he is being right now, she can not let that happen. She loves Mulder, but putting that aside, she would do anything to protect him. He might not realize this, but she knows it to be true. If Diana wants a fight, Scully will give her one. She just needs a little breathing space first. Reaching the parking garage she stops in horror half-way to her vehicle. Mulder's fleet Taurus is parked in the adjoining space as usual, and her partner is standing by the trunk of his car. The sight of him always tugs at her heart. Her tall, dark and impossibly handsome partner. It should be illegal to look that good, to be that devastating. Because that's what he is. He is not alone. Oh dear God *no*! He has Diana with him and they look extremely cosy. Diana is completely inside Mulder's personal space, looking up into his face with a seductive smile on her ruby lips. Scully can't hear them, but she sees her partner smile back and feels her heart lodge itself somewhere in the vicinty of her throat. Diana reaches up and runs a hand through his hair, brushing the dark locks back from his forehead. It is something Scully has done a hundred times. She can even feel the soft silky strands between her own fingers as she watches. Bile rises in her throat. *Don't touch him. Don't you dare touch him.* Mulder opens his door and gets in, and then to Scully's dismay, Diana walks around to the passenger side and joins Mulder in the car. The engine hums to life and within seconds Mulder has reversed out of his parking space and driven away. Scully stands rooted to the spot. She swallows hard and grips her car keys so tightly they bite into the skin of her palm. They even draw blood but she doesn't notice. She makes her way to her car and numbly drives out of the lot and into the downtown traffic. There has to be a way to prove to Mulder that Diana has been brought back into his life for one reason, and one reason only--to destroy their partnership and separate them once and for all. And there has to be a way to stop her. Scully just has to find it. She drives home feeling wave after wave of jealousy and hatred batter her. "Breathing space " she thinks, she has to have some breathing space, and right now. Part two: The Damn Dream Again. Dana Scully's apartment Georgetown Virginia 2203 hrs She hadn't meant to fall asleep on her couch. It is however something she has begun to do with increasing regularity. She has thought that maybe it is the unconcious mimicking of his habit on her part. She doesn't really like that thought a whole lot. Her breathing is fast and erractic, she is covered in a fine sheen of sweat and her heart is hammering painfully. She had been dreaming that dream again. The same damn dream that she had first while working on the case that had brought her into contact with Gibson Praise, all those months ago. Before their office had been destroyed and the X-Files closed, before Dallas, before Antartica. The dream is always the same. This is another oddity to her. Never in her life has she had a recurring dream. This one however, her mind seems perversely bent on replaying, over and over again. It starts in the hospital with her looking for Mulder, with information he needed that she had gathered. She comes across him inside the room with the glass in the door, standing talking to Diana. Diana is holding his hand. Instead of leaving, walking rapidly away, which is how reality played, in the dream she is rooted to the spot, unable to flee the scene she is reluctant to witness. Mulder reaches one hand around the back of Diana's head and pulls her to him almost roughly. His mouth descending on hers, his desire as obvious as his intent. She cannot even close her eyes against the torment, or turn her head away. Mulder strips Diana of her clothes, before he rips his own from his body. Neither of them seems aware of where they are, or if they are aware, they do not care. He pushes her back against the wall, their mouths still joined. Then to Scully's silent horror, she is forced to watch as Mulder joins his body to Diana's. She is forced to hear Diana's cries of ecstasy as he moves within her. The worst part is that she is forced to feel, with a dream's heightened awareness, all the emotions within her own heart as this happens in front of her. She feels the hell fire of unending rage, a terrifying desire to kill them both. She feels stabbing shards of jealousy that slice through her to the bone, and the gut twisting agony of a loss too great to be bourne, as all the love in her heart is twisted into pain. She can actually feel the moment when her heart can take no more, and seems to explode inside her chest. Then she feels herself fade away to nothing with the sounds of their lovemaking still echoing in her ears. She has almost completely disappeared when she wakes up and the dream is over for another night. Why does she do this? Why is she dreaming of him with that woman? Is he with her? Could he be with her right now? She looks over at the clock on her mantle and decides it is still early enough to have a bath before she turns in for the night. Maybe a long soak in a hot tub will help her to relax. She wants nothing more right now than to fall into her bed and sleep dreamlessly through the night. She gets up off of the sofa to head for her bathroom, when her cell phone rings from the coffee table where she dumped it. She has a feeling she knows who is on the phone. She isn't really up to talking to him right now, but ever the good partner, she answers it anyway. "Scully." "Scully...it's me." A long pregnant pause ensues before she replies..."What do you want Mulder?" "Just checking in on you Scully. I haven't seen you all day." *You would have, but you didn't even look.* She gives voice to her thoughts. "Well I was in the office Mulder. If you didn't see me it's because you didn't bother to come and find me." There is a long silence on the other end of the line. Scully knows she sounded bitter just now, but the image of him with that bitch in the parking garage won't remove itself from her mind's eye. "Scully are you mad at me? I'm sorry I wasn't around today. I was trying to get access to our basement office. I'm just anxious to get back to work on the X-Files...aren't you?" That's a loaded question she thinks. Of course it's just as much her quest as his now, and she wants to continue by his side. But God help her, if he wants to keep Diana on with them too... "I am Mulder. But I'm taking a couple of days leave right now." "Now, why now? Scully now is not a good time." Her patience snaps. She is still reeling from the recent run of events. She is tired, and angry at him for his blind willingness to believe in a woman Scully knows has no conscience and few morals. She is mad at herself for loving him the way she does, and after seeing them together this afternoon she'll do the exact opposite of what he wants just to piss him off. It might only be a small hurt she inflicts on him, but he's been dishing a lot of hurt in her direction lately and the need for some payback is really strong right now. "Well that's tough Mulder, cause I need some time off. Besides, I saw you with Agent Fowley today and she looked more than willing to help you out in whatever way she could. So I know you won't miss me too much. Good night Mulder." She hangs up and immediately switches her phone off. Then for good measure she pulls her regular phone cord out of the wall. She feels a momentary guilt pang. Under normal circumstances, it is unthinkable for her to be incommunicado, unreachable. It would worry him. This time she hopes it will. Serves him right. Feeling petty and slighty disgusted with herself, she nonetheless heads for her bathroom, one phone unplugged and the other one switched off. Damn the dream, damn Diana and damn him too. In fact, damn the whole stupid world for being so upside down. And damn her foolish heart for its unending loyalty to him. She runs her bath, and once submerged in its comforting warmth she finally allows the tears to come. Tears she would rather die than have anyone else see, especially him. She cries for her frustration, his stubborness. She cries for her jealousy, his blindness. She cries for her loneliness. She fears she has somehow missed a crucial moment in time. The moment when if she had just told him what is in her heart, she could have made him hers forever. She wants that moment back, to recognize it this time and make sure she uses it properly. She needs that chance again. To make him hers as much as she is his. For she knows she is. He posesses her very soul and she cries for that too. When her eyes are sore and she can shed no more tears tonight, she climbs out of the tub and slipping into her PJ's she heads for her bed. She dreads the nightly ritual she has developed, but without it sleep is always reluctant to come. Her hand snakes down over her stomach and into her pajama bottoms, settling into the nest of auburn curls as she spreads her legs slightly. She hates this, she needs this. She wants the real thing. *Mulder.* His beautiful face appears to her behind her closed eyes. Mulder's face from his hallway, with love for her in his eyes. His hands are tangled in her hair, his face edges closer and in her fantasy, fucking bees do not exist. Her fingers find her wetness. As their lips touch in her mind, her fingers become his. It is he who touches her and brings her pleasure. His tongue is in her mouth. She can taste him as she climbs the rungs of the ladder on her journey to release. As shudders overtake her, she hears his name escape her mouth. She wonders fleetingly if he has ever heard her crying out like this, as he lies in the adjacent room in yet another dingy motel. She is overcome with shame. Not from the act itself, but the fact that his is the only face she ever sees during it. She wishes there was some way to get over him, to be just his partner, to have never fallen in love with him. She might just as well wish for the moon. What's done is done, beyond any undoing. Sleep begins to overcome her, and she welcomes its offered escape. Part three: Beaches and Hard Liquor The next day. . . Despite the fact that her eyes are shut tight, a single salty tear escapes her left eye and tracks its way down her face. When it reaches her chin, it hangs suspended in time for a brief moment before it succumbs to gravity and drops earth bound onto the sand. She was right to take this time away for herself. She is in no condition to be around him. He could break her far too easily whilst she is like this. Opening her eyes once more she sadly watches the sun begin to set over the ocean. She has been walking up and down the length of the beach for hours, letting the sea perform its healing ritual on her soul. The sounds of the waves breaking on the beach are soothing to her. Gulls are crying out overhead, and the tang of salt is in the air. It's almost like childhood for her. She is connected by the ocean to all the happiness of her youth, to days when her life held nothing but the promise of a golden future. Yet she would change nothing in the course of her life. Any change she could make might result in the loss of his presence. Though he is the source of her current distress, he is still all that matters. To have known him, to have been a part of his life. It is worth all the sacrifices she has made, and will make still. She swipes angrily at her eyes where again tears are forming. This is so unlike her. She controls her emotions so strongly the vast majority of the time. Perhaps thats why every now and then they burst forward and demand escape. She decides to head back to DC. She has a bar or two to hit tonight. The ocean has helped her remember when she was happy. Hard liquor will help her forget all that's making her unhappy. For tonight at least, and that might just be all she needs. ****** Clancy's Bar Alexandria, Virginia 2224 hrs "Can I get you another?" The bartender looks at her expectantly. "What? Oh, yeah sure. . .just keep them coming." "Poopy day?" Scully looks up and smiles weakly at the female bartender. She nods her head in the affirmative and takes another swig of scotch. "Poopy week, make that poopy couple of months." The bartender smiles back at her. "So...what to do you do?" "You wouldn't believe me if I told you." "Well I don't know about that. We get all sorts in here, and every kind of tall story." "I work for the FBI." "Whats unbelievable about that?" "I cut up dead bodies." "Well that's definitely icky, but hardly unbelievable." "I hunt aliens." "I thought the INS did that?" "No...ALIENS...EBE's..." "E...B...E's?" "Extraterrestrial Biological Entities...I search for evidence of them, my partner and I." The bartender looks as if she has heard this one before. This for some reason seems hilariously funny to Scully right now. She downs what remains of the scotch in her shot glass, and indicates her desire for another. The bartender looks about to refuse for a moment, but then shrugs her shoulders and pours the beverage. For a moment nothing further is said, then the bartender speaks again. "That's an interesting job. Maybe you should talk to that guy over there." Scully looks up from her glass to see the bartender indicating a man sat alone in a booth on the far side of the tavern. She knows the man. She knows his face almost better than her own, and as her gaze falls upon him he seems to feel it. He looks up and meets her eyes with a faint smile...Mulder. She doesn't smile back. Although in some small part of her alcohol soaked brain she has registered the fact that Diana is not with him, and she is fervently glad. He gets up from his seat and lumbers over to her. Guess he's been drinking too, she thinks, because Mulder is usually so graceful when he moves. Like a big cat, comfortable in his skin. That thought does provoke a small smile. She turns back to her drink and stares into the bottom of the glass, as if all the secret truths she's ever looked for are contained within. He sits down on the bar stool next to her. *I can't talk to you now.* she thinks *...not in this state of mind.* "Go away Mulder." "Scully...what are you doing here? Are you drunk?" "I said go away Mulder...leave me alone to get wasted in peace." "So you are." "What do you care?" "I think I should take you home." She sighs heavily. Why is Mulder always a dog with a bone? "Mulder...I'm armed and I'm trained, I can take care of myself." "You're drunk, and beautiful, and a target for every red blooded male who cares to hit on you. What the hell are you doing Scully?" She raises her eyes to his and stares at him. Her very best *death stare*, designed to make anyone she bestows it on shrivel up and slink away. "None of your damned business "Agent" Mulder. My own time, is mine to do with as I please. So like I said, disappear and leave me alone already." He starts to look angry, and shocked at her behaviour. *Welcome to to the club buddy.* She thinks. "Scully what the hell is the matter with you? I've been trying to reach you since you hung up on me last night. I've been to your apartment. I've even had the phone company check your lines. They told me your cellular was switched off and your land line was unplugged. We always keep in touch Scully...why would you do that?" She downs another swig of scotch, enjoying the burn of the beverage down her throat. "Maybe I just didn't want to talk to you Mulder, did you ever think of that?" His slightly stunned expression reveals he actually hadn't considered that possibility. "Why?" "Why what?" "Why don't you want to talk to me Scully? Look I've obviously done something to upset you. Instead of giving me the run around, why don't you just tell me what it is?" How can he not know? How much does he expect her to take before she cracks? She finishes the rest of her drink and stands up. She manages to look steadier on her feet than she really is. She pulls two twenty dollar bills out of her pants pocket and drops them onto the bartop, before she turns and starts to walk away. His hand darts out and grabs her upper arm. "Scully." His voice has a definite warning edge to it. It's like a red rag to a bull with her right now. She's feeling perilously close to a complete outburst here. Time to escape before she gives him all the information he wants, and then some. "Figure it out yourself Mulder...it's what you're best at isn't it?" She pulls her arm roughly from his grasp and strides away, out of the bar and onto the street. She is trying to hail a cab as he bursts out the door behind her. She isn't surprised in the least that he followed her. She knew he would, and yet still hoped he wouldn't. "Just what the hell is that supposed to mean?" His hazel eyes have darkened with his mood. *How does he do that?* she wonders, before she turns back to her task and ignores him. He grabs her arm again and spins her around to face him. "Let go of me Mulder." He leans in very close, his nose only an inch from hers. "No." His tone of voice is far too soft. Warning bells are going off in her ears. He's really mad. Good. She doesn't back down. "I said, 'let go of me Mulder.'" She matches his tone of voice, leaving the challenge hanging in the air. "Not until you tell me what's going on. I need to know what's wrong Scully. Why are you acting like this?" *Damn him.* His tone now is all concern, his gaze soft and beseeching. Her walls aren't reconstructed yet. Her mind is clouded by the alcohol. He's standing too close, he smells too good, and she wants him so badly. How is she supposed to keep fighting this pull? Even light couldn't escape from a gravity this strong. But she must, somehow she must. *Escape* her mind screams. *Escape NOW*. In an effort not to kiss him, not to launch herself into his arms, she tries to divert him with a question. "What were you doing with Diana Fowley in the parking garage yesterday?" *Shit*. Wrong question, right question, do I really want to know? The thoughts rush through her mind. "What?" In a stronger voice..."What were you doing with her? Where did you go?" I can handle this...I can. She tries to convince herself that's true. "She said she needed a ride home. I dropped her off and then I went home." "Is that the truth?" He looks so wounded, she knows it is before he replies. "I would NEVER lie to you, and you of all people should know that." "You know, I used to believe that." Another wounded look, she's sure getting the shots in tonight and it feels good. She hates herself, but she wants to hurt him. *How can you want that?* She thinks, but she does. She wants him to feel the way she felt every time he defended that bitch, trusted that bitch, or sided with that bitch. Refusing to listen when she's only trying to protect him. Why can't he see that? Hasn't she always been the one to protect him? What did her loyalty get her? He owes her more than this, better than this. After everything they have endured together, how can he now let *her* come between them? She is almost afraid to meet his gaze. He looks as if she slapped him across the face, he looks devastated. "I would never lie to you." he repeats. She sighs a weary sigh. She knows she should get away from him and yet she can't do it. She wants to be close to him, she's missed him so much lately. Even when he was right there next to her, she was missing him. She wants *her* Mulder back, she needs him. "Can you take me home Mulder?" He simply nods. "I'll get us a cab Scully." Part Four: Loss of Control The cab ride to Georgetown has been torturous. The silence in the air hanging thick and heavy between them. Cloaking them both in its suffocating stillness. So very different from the usual, companionable silences between them that she is so used too. Her mind is clearing and she's realizing her mistake. She's still emotionally charged up. Being around him like this is reckless, she could say or do anything. When they reach her apartment, she pays the cab driver and exits the car with a mumbled "Goodnight Mulder" over her shoulder. He exits the cab with her, obviously determined to continue with their conversation. She should have known he wouldn't give it up easily, this is Mulder after all. "Go home Mulder, now is not the time." "You asked me to take you home." "It was a bad choice of words. I meant to ask you to get me a cab." He shuts the door to the cab and it drives off before Scully can stop it. He stands there in the darkness, challenge written all over his handsome features. There is a wild light in his eyes. The same one he gets when he knows he's onto something. Oh God, he needs to go home...right now. She should never have let him come with her. She's too close to the edge. She's got to get rid of him. Before this gets out of hand. Because every now and then in her life she loses her control. Every now and then she breaks free of her self-imposed restraint and acts without thinking. She knew this was coming, a complete explosion of all the hurt and frustration and jealousy. She tried to get away, to get herself under control. Her brain is feeling a lot clearer, but there is still more than enough alcohol in her system to make her tongue far too loose. She's going supernova, there's no way to stop it. Before she even realizes it she is yelling at him. "I said GO AWAY Mulder. Go fuck your whore and LEAVE ME ALONE!" Oh God, what has she said? He moves to step closer and in blind panic she reaches for her weapon. Something, anything to keep him away. Years of practice have it securely in her hand and pointed at his chest in the beat of a heart. *What are you doing?* Her inner self is screaming. She is speaking again and yet she doesn't know where the words are coming from. "Back off Mulder." She is dangerously out of it here. When she does lose it, she tends to *really* lose it. He is simply starring at her in disbelief. "Back off...are you deaf? Just back the hell away Mulder...I mean it." His eyes are wide, filling with emotion. She can see tears glistening above the green and hazel swirls. *Don't look at me like that.* She pleads silently. Closing her eyes for a moment the images from her dream hit her again. Mulder and Diana rutting madly against a wall. Her eyes snap open and he is still stood there...waiting. "Did you fuck her Mulder? Are you sleeping with that whore?" "What? No. Scully please, put down the gun." The standoff continues. She knows she has no intention of harming him. She'd rather blow her own brains all over the street than harm him. Resignation. That's what she feels. The calming realization that no matter what he does or says, she will always feel the way she does about him. No matter what. She has no avenue of escape. "I hate you...I hate the way you make me feel. Damn you Mulder...damn you to hell." What is she doing? This is crazy. She re-holsters her weapon and lowers her head in shame. What the hell must he be thinking? She turns away and practically runs up the few steps to the entrance to her building. She is searching frantically through her pockets for her keys when she feels him behind her. He steps right into her and tentatively touches her shoulder. He leans down and whispers in her ear, his voice is gentle. "I'm not sleeping with her Scully. Nor will I be in the future. It's not like that now...it's not." She can feel the sob working its way up through her body and she fights it with everything she has. "Why are you so upset? Scully please let me in. Stop shutting me out. You're making me crazy...you're acting crazy." She tries one last time to get rid of him. "Please go away Mulder. Please...just let it go." "Not this time Scully. We're not running from this anymore." "What, what aren't we running from?" She turns to face him and there it is. That look from his hallway is back on his face. His eyes are overflowing with that same tender look. Love is pouring from them and as he repeats his actions of that fateful night, and tangles his hands in her hair, she knows what is coming. "This." His voice is barely a whisper...his face inches nearer and nearer. She prays fast that nothing stops him this time. His mouth closes in on hers, and finally, finally she feels the first brush of his lips. His lips are so soft. He increases the pressure and before she can think she opens her mouth to him and deepens the contact. His tongue rushes inside of her mouth, hunting swiftly for hers. As she brushes hers against it she is swept away. She knew, she knew she would be. That if he ever touched her this way he would ignite every ounce of passion in her soul. The hunger for him coursing through her veins is unlike anything she has ever known. It's as if she has spent all her life only partly alive, and now she is fully living for the first time. She is going crazy with desire. Its been pent up inside her for so long and the damn is well and truly broken now. The area between her thighs is throbbing with want and soaked already. Shes never wanted to devour someone before, but God now she does. She wants to absorb him into her very being, until there is no escape for him ever. Until he is so much a part of her that nothing can ever come between them again. She wants his soul, not just his body. He must be hers, she simply can't exist if he isn't. Doesn't he know this? He has her backed up against the double door leading into her building. He has nudged his way between her legs and is pushing himself up against her core. She can feel his raw need, he is as hard as steel against her. This realization only serves to crank her own fevered yearning up a notch. He releases her mouth at last and buries his face in the crook of her neck, holding her body to his. She is gasping, the adrenalin pumping through her is rapidly completing the process of sobering her up. A part of her wonders if she should stop this, but her heart shuts that part up by flooding her being with the love she has for him. A million thoughts go flying through her mind before she feels a sudden clarity. A path floodlighted before her. She wants him more than she wants her next breath. This life they lead could result in her death, or his, anytime. She can't die never having known what is feels like to make love to him. To finally know him in all ways. "Mulder." No answer, but she feels him swallow hard. "Mulder, look at me." Eyes blackened by desire stare into hers. She tries to find the perfect words to express what she wants to happen, they won't come. She'll have to settle for... "Mulder, if you don't come inside and make love to me, I WILL have to shoot you." He looks stunned, then thrilled, then hesistant. She suddenly knows what to say. "Yes Mulder. It is time to stop running." He doesn't say anything, he just claims her mouth once more. ****** How they made it from the entranceway to the confines of her apartment, she has no clear recollection. She can only register that they are now safely inside her apartment, and he is currently locking the deadbolt on her door. Her stomach is full of the most wonderful butterflies and she knows she is smiling for the first time in weeks. She's going to erase those dreadful dreams from her mind. This odious wall is coming down. This is it. She thinks. This is that moment again. Her second chance. Her chance to claim the only thing in her life she has ever truly wanted. Surely no one, ever, in the history of the planet has ever wanted anything, with the same intensity that she wants him. It isn't possible. Her completely adored partner. He's become *her* obsession she realizes. The reason she does all the things she does. Amazing, that she, someone so practical, logical and sensible, should have the driving force in her life be her passion for one man. But then, it's not as if he is an ordinary man. In fact there is nothing ordinary about him. He is simply the most extraordinary individual alive as far as she knows. Maybe it's not so surprising after all. There are no lights turned on in the apartment, and he is illuminated only by the moonlight flooding in from the window. He has made no move towards her, he stands completely still, watching her with clouded eyes. Her smile widens, and she steps into him. Looking up into his face and allowing what she feels for him to show in the cerulean depths of her eyes. *Let me love you Mulder. I need to love you.* They have always been better at wordless communication anyway. She knows he will see in her eyes these telegraphed thoughts and understand. His expression changes to mirror hers, and with gentle fingers he tucks her hair back behind her ears. The feel of his skin on hers sets up a ripple of tingles throughout her body. Starting from her earlobes and ending in her toes. Her body feels different already. Gone is the earlier haze of the alcohol, and instead a heightened and clearer state of consciousness has replaced it. It's chemistry she realizes, alchemy of the most magical kind. All her senses have gone on alert, she feels giddy and high. High on Mulder. She could make a fortune if she could only bottle this sensation. It has to be the sweetest feeling she has ever experienced. And they've only just begun. She reaches up and tugs his mouth down towards her. Impatient to taste him again. Slanting her mouth over his lips and sucking his full lower one into her mouth. The moan that rises up and out of him sends exhilaration through her. How could she have known how good it feels to affect him this way. No one but her must ever do this to him. "Mine" her heart yells emphatically. Mine...mine...only mine. As she assaults his mouth, her dainty fingers have pushed his jacket from his shoulders and are busy tugging his t-shirt from his jeans. She stops kissing him to pull it up and over his head, desperate to expose his gorgeous upper body to her hungry gaze. At last she feels his warm smooth skin under her palms. Hands that want to touch him everywhere start first on his abdomen and trace patterns there. She can feel the taught muscles bunching under her hands. God, he's just so male. She'd forgotten how hard and strong a man's body can feel. She drops to her knees, needing to taste the skin of his stomach. *Oh Jesus*, was anything ever this delicious. His skin tastes of salt, and sex. "Mulder...you're delicious." she has to tell him. "Scully..." he can only manage her name. She glances up at him, his head is thrown back, his mouth is open and gasping. She licks at him again, and moves up his body tasting him over and over as she does so. She swirls her tongue over each nipple, and moves up again to kiss the hollow of his throat and then up to his mouth once more. If she could do this with him every second from now until time ends it would still never be long enough. Kissing Mulder is the most intoxicating thing that she has ever done. Pulling back to stare into the endless kaleidoscope of his eyes, she knows she must tell him what she is feeling. That this is the key to staking her claim upon his love, his heart and soul. "I want you Mulder..." "Scu..." She hushes him with a single finger on his perfect mouth. "Let me tell you, please, I need to tell you." He nods his head once and waits for her to speak. Her words come out with a rush, tumbling over one another in their desire to be born. "I've wanted you for so long. Sometimes the ache of wanting you threatens to consume me Mulder...to strip away my sanity. The thought of losing you, or sharing you, you have no idea the primitive, primal way that makes me feel. It makes me want to own you Mulder. Hide you away and keep you all to myself. I've been feeling so jealous Mulder. I've been haunted by these nightmares of you making love to Diana, and I've been dying inside, since she came along. Suddenly a woman I had never heard of had a claim on you. I hate her Mulder...I hate that she's touched you; that you carry feelings for her in your heart. It makes me crazy knowing she can remember what it feels like to make love with you. I want that knowledge...I need it. I need you." He smiles so softly, but he says nothing. He knows she is not finished. Taking his face between her hands, she hides none of her emotions and lets them play freely across her face. "I've waited for you, for the right moment to tell you this...I love you Mulder." His smile is wide and full and the most beautific sight to behold. His words are the balm her soul has been dying for. "Diana is the past Scully. Now there is only you. Only you for the last five years Scully. Only you in my thoughts, my dreams, and my heart. I could never be with her again...because that would be a betrayal of my love for you. Don't you know Scully? Don't you know there is only you for me? That there will only ever be you for me." She can feel the tears start to track down her face. "I love you Scully. I was born to love you. Born wanting you, please make love with me Scully." Instead of using words to reply, she has none anyway, she launches herself once more against his mouth, drinking him in and knowing he is doing the same to her. She knows this initial coupling will be fast, furious. A sudden and explosive release of tensions left to simmer far too long. Eyes locked together as their lips part, a silent agreement is forged and they each strip every remaining item of clothing from their own bodies. Each knowing they must be joined, and that it must happen right now. There is no time to take this into her bedroom, it will happen right here on her hardwood floor. Her entire body is throbbing with need. She is actually shaking with desperation, trembling from head to toe. She reaches out to take his shaft into her hand. Fate may have dealt Fox Mulder many blows and life inflicted many wounds, but God must love him, for when he crafted this man's body he created perfection. He broke the proverbial mold. She has always known her partner was handsome. From the first moment she met him. Her very first thought had been "damn...he's pretty". As he matured he only improved. Now watching him naked and aroused he steals her breath with his physical beauty. And the Lord left no detail overlooked, for he is so generously endowed she shivers in anticipation. Amazing, his mother's foresight to name him as she did. He feels glorious in her hand. Hard as a piece of granite and smooth like polished marble. As she runs her hand eagerly over him he thrusts into her hand. She feels her walls contract in symbiosis, and realizes she is already on the verge of coming before he even touches her. It must be from the sensory overload of knowing what they are finally going to do. "Get inside me." She hears the plea in her own voice, the extreme need. "Scu..." "Now Mulder, just get inside me...please." Strong, willing hands pick her up and she feels the cool wall of her apartment come into contact with the skin of her back. He is supporting her weight with his hands beneath her buttocks and he braces her against the wall before lowering her slightly until her weight is partially supported by his thighs as she straddles him. Her arms go around his neck and her mouth once more seeks his. She breaks the kiss only when she feels him at her entrace, poised to push his way inside of her body. Her wetness begins to coat him as he teases her, trying to prepare for this first joining. She moans softly at the sensation of his erection moving back and forth across her opening. Her eyes are drawn to his and her breath escapes her at his expression. He looks happy. Happier than she has ever seen him. He looks lit from inside. Rapt amazement and love for her, burning in his eyes. "Mulder...now please...please." He swivels his hips and she can feel him begin the slide inside. She presses down on him, wanting all of him buried within her body. He thrusts upwards to meet her and then they are fused at last. There is a moment when time seems to slow down, wordless *I love you's* are exchanged and then raw passion takes over. His thrusts are long and hard, purposeful, like him. Each one brings her more pleasure than she has ever known before. Sex has never been like this. She's never been this turned on, never wanted anyone with this much intensity. All her life she's been afraid to need people, but she admits it too herself, she needs him. She needs him like oxygen, needs him moving within her, completing her. He gives her life a meaning, her love a form, her soul a mate. Watching him love her, feeling him worship her, she finally believes it is the same for him. The ghosts of his past relationships that have haunted her are slain. His passion for her setting her free from them at last. Her body's journey to its first release is over in a white hot burst of pleasure that is a complete full body experience. A keening cry that begins as his name is pulled up and out of her mouth. Her walls become a clenching vice around him, pulsing so tight she knows he bites down upon her shoulder to avoid coming himself. Her vision goes fuzzy and finally gives up for a moment as her mind tries to make sense of the sensory overload her body is asking it to process. She goes limp in his arms and comes back to awareness at the alarm in his voice that is calling her name. "Scully...Scully...baby are you alright? Scully...Scully talk to me." As her neck muscles obey her command to lift her head, she smiles blissfully and pins his gaze with her eyebrow raised. "Did you just call me *baby*?" Relief passes visably across his features and then he mimics her eyebrow and answers her. "Gonna make an issue out of it G-Woman?" "Not if you promise to call me that in front of Diana next time we see her." He answers her with a renewed thrust of his still raging hard-on inside her. A quick snort of laughter escapes him and he nods his head. "Baby...it will be my pleasure." Talk ceases as their mouths meet, he thrusts within her harder and faster until he realizes he is slamming her hard into the cold, unyielding wall behind her. He shifts and wraps her legs completely around his torso, then moves away from the wall carrying her, still embedded within her body. Her couch is thankfully only a few shaky steps and he allows himself to fall back upon it with her atop him. She really didn't care about moving from the wall, happy to carry marks from his passion on her body, but his thoughtfulness warms her anyway. He has handed her control over their lovemaking she notes. He lies beneath her, his hips unable to stay still, pushing himself up and into her over and over. As she straddles him she takes his hands and leads them to her breasts. Urging him silently to mold them in his hands, caressing the swollen buds her nipples have become. "You are so beautiful...I wish you could see yourself." The soft lazy smile on his face as he tells her this coaxes an answering one from her. It should feel strange she thinks, this intimacy with him after so many years of loving but not touching. But it doesn't, not at all, it only feels natural to be here like this. Natural, and wonderful and...*Oh God.* Her ruminations are disrupted by a particularly vigourous thrust of his lower body that slams into her and forces all thoughts clean from her mind. Sensation is all her mind and body want. She moves herself upon him, deliberately slower than he wants, grinding against him, eroding his control a piece at a time. She needs to see him come apart under her. Wants to see that face she has loved so long wracked with ecstasy as he spills his seed within her. He is close, she can tell from the fine sheen of sweat beading his body, the tension in all his muscles, bunched hard under her fingertips. The way his breathe is coming in short, shallow pants and by the way his groin charges up to meet her every stroke, completely involuntarily. She knows she is close again as well. With his hands still on her breasts, she steadies herself on him with her left hand on his hip. Her right hand she brings down to touch their joining. Cupping his sack and knowing from his moan of pleasure that she has pushed him even closer to the edge. Smiling inwardly she knows her next move will completely undo him. Her fingertips brush through her nest of auburn curls and expertly settle upon the swollen bundle of nerves that is the key to her plan. She'll blow his mind completely as he gets to watch her bring herself off. His eyes widen at the sight of her touching herself, bringing herself to fulfillment even as she brings it to him. She works herself furiously, roughly, and it's more than he can take. He ejaculates violently, a wordless scream torn from his throat, it goes on and on and he's dimly aware of the fact that he hasn't had an orgasm of that much power since...ever. Above the roaring in her ears she hears herself cry his name out over and over, and then registers that the full weight of her body lies spent on his chest. His heart is racing, pounding loudly under her cheek. She can feel her own match his tempo and rhythm, beating in unison with his. The sense of peace she feels descend around her is humbling. She knows she has finally reached the point in her life where her journey will never be made alone anymore. From this point on, their path is the same one, they will walk it, or run it, together. There will still be times when he hurts her, and she him, but never again will it be the torture she has so recently known. And whatever the journey may bring, making it with him is worth any price. Finis. Author's Notes: Time for my usual ramblings darlings. I guess apart from the fact that I LOVE jealous Scully, or jealous Mulder for that matter, this is a total piece of PWP smut! But after seeing 'Two Father's One Son', and 'The Beginning', again recently -and wanting to Bitch-Slap Diana so badly - I couldn't help but have her be the catalyst to the explosive 'first time!' Plus those eps always make me want to spank Mulder for being such a nit wit, so hence my Scully pulls her gun on him! I figured nothing would make Mulder wake up and smell the coffee like Scully pulling her gun on him - he really hates it when she does that! And for those of you who are always kind enough to write and encourage me, I share this...I have been frantically dodging all the S9 trailers, closing my eyes, sticking fingers in my ears and all other kinds of crazy behaviour to remain in my denial about the whole damn thing. It seems to be getting progressively harder to do, so I may just have to turn my TV off completely...and write more FANFIC! If it ain't got no MSR...there ain't no point in watching it!