Title: Improbability Author: Frances Hartman E-mail: fhartman@altavista.com Rating: NC-17 Spoilers: Syzygy Category: SR Keywords: MSR Summary: It's all about the perfume. Disclaimer: The characters of Mulder and Scully as they appear on "The X-Files" are the sole property of Chris Carter, Fox Broadcasting, and 1013 Productions. The characters of Mulder and Scully as they appear in this story exist only in my fevered imagination. No disrespect or expectation of profit is intended. What the hell, everyone's gotta have a hobby. "One should always be a little improbable." -Oscar Wilde The shrill summons of the telephone broke Scully's concentration on the report in front of her. She jumped at the sound, jerking the mug that was halfway to her lips and spilling lukewarm coffee all over the front of her new silk blouse. "Goddamn it," she swore. Perfect. About the only thing saving this truly abysmal day was the fact that Mulder wasn't here. "Scully," she snapped into the receiver, almost hoping it was her errant partner. Venting a little of her frustration on him right now would be just what she needed, and no more than he deserved. There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Is Agent Mulder in?" came the hesitant female voice. "No, I'm sorry, he isn't." "This is his partner," she said, forcibly modulating her tone. "Is there something I can help you with?" Scully heard a barely muffled sigh, quiet, but there. "Yes, thank you, Agent Scully. This is Detective Angela White." "What can I do for you, Detective White?" Scully spoke carefully, formally, scrupulously hiding all resentment and annoyance. "Ah, I was wondering if you could forward me a copy of the final report on last month's case. The part that isn't 'Eyes Only', anyway." Detective White cleared her throat uncomfortably. "And I need to talk to you, Agent Scully. I think. . .well, I believe I owe you an apology." "For what?" "That case put me under a lot of pressure, and I'm afraid my behavior wasn't the most gracious, or professional. I was unconscionably rude to you, and I feel that I. . .well, I embarrassed myself as well as you with my inexcusable conduct." She sighed again. "Anyway, I wanted you to know that I don't usually act that way. It isn't an excuse, because there aren't any. Excuses, I mean. I just want you to know that I'm aware of my behavior, and I'm honestly very sorry." Scully felt about two inches tall. She knew that she herself hadn't been the soul of courtesy; in fact, she'd been argumentative and arrogant since the moment she set foot in Comity. Mulder hadn't been much better, but his behavior certainly made sense in light of her own. He was just reacting to her unusual bitchiness, while she. . .well, she was reacting to her jealousy, she admitted with ruthless honesty. Jealousy that she had no right to feel, particularly in light of the fact that Mulder had told her more than once, to no avail, that he hadn't instigated the motel room incident with Angela. The older woman had, it seemed, been acting as irrationally as the two of them had been. And even if something had happened. . .hell, even if Mulder and Detective White had stripped down and gone at it in the hotel swimming pool, she had no right to be jealous. They were only partners after all, and she should consider herself lucky that Mulder didn't make an issue of her rather obvious high school behavior. Actually, he had, but thank goodness he hadn't realized her motivations. There was only so much humiliation a woman could take. In any case, Scully had ignored him, and had continued to do so for the remainder of the case. As for Angela, if Scully's looks could kill, the other woman would have been rocketed so hard into the afterworld that six people would have been forced back to life. And the detective was apologizing to her? "No, Detective." Scully couldn't let things stand like that. "No, I'm the one who should be apologizing to you. I came onto this case with a chip on my shoulder, looking for a fight. Things between Agent Mulder and I were. . .strained. I'm afraid I took a lot of that out on you, and with everything that happened, I just went from bad to worse. I'm sorry." "Accepted, Agent Scully." The other woman seemed relieved, and her tone was noticeably warmer. "Um, before you go, Detective White. . ." "Angela." "And call me Dana. Angela. . .this may be out of line, but. . .could I ask you a personal question?" A rueful laugh echoed in Scully's ear. "Nothing, Dana. He didn't do a thing. And it certainly wasn't for my lack of trying, embarrassing as that is to admit. I don't know what I was thinking. He is a bit young for me, after all." Her voice lowered conspiratorially. "Sexy as hell, but a bit young. Got a great butt, though." Scully swallowed a brief chortle of mirth at this rather irreverent, not to mention highly unprofessional, observation. "Thank you for telling me, Angela. . .and yes, he does. . .but that wasn't quite what I wanted to ask you." She took a deep breath. "What kind of perfume do you wear?" she blurted. Mulder's Apartment Alexandria, Virginia Mulder was, charitably put, pissed off. Pissed off enough, in fact, that he had chosen to stay home today and let Scully finish up the report on the Comity case rather than sit across a desk from her and contract a terminal case of frostbite. If she had glared at him one more time in that condescending, icy manner of hers, silently accusing him of being guided by his gonads, he wouldn't be responsible for his actions. He already knew what he would say to Skinner when his butt got kicked for punching his partner. He snorted mirthlessly. The fact that his blood could be boiling when the temperature in that damned basement had hit subzero was an X-File in itself. Restlessly, he got up to pace. The detective had been attractive enough, sure, but he hadn't been the least bit interested. And since when did he let his personal feelings. . .well, those kinds of personal feelings, anyway. . .interfere in a case? Well, okay, there was that one time, but she didn't know about that, did she? He certainly hadn't told her about Kristen Kilar. And he had been partnerless then, anyway. So for all intents and purposes. . . It was a fine time for Scully to start believing in the unprecedented, he fumed righteously. Hadn't he told her that he had nothing to do with that little scene she walked in on in the motel room? Hadn't he explained Angela's strange behavior, and that it was caused by an unusual planetary alignment that occurred only once every eighty-six years, with four planets forming a Grand Square, creating an overflow of cosmic energy that caused people to react. . . Oh. Mulder sat down with a thump. Put that way, the idea that he, a typical male, was thinking with his dick did seem the more likely explanation. Not that this realization made him feel any better, but it certainly took the wind out of his sails for a moment. He scrubbed a weary hand over his face. By all rights, the enmity between them should have dissolved by the time they left Comity, if that theory were correct. And considering the speed with which Scully put the miles between the agents and the hapless little town, she should have been dancing on the ceiling by the time they were an hour away. They both should have been. But here it was, two days later, and there was still the threat of pistols at twenty paces every time they were in the same room. And to make matters worse, word had come down from Skinner that they were due in Grangeville, Idaho the day after tomorrow to investigate a series of grave desecrations. That case was going to be hard enough on Scully without this tension between them. She was going to need his support, and she was going to need to unbend enough to allow him to give it to her. Pretty tall order when they were barely even speaking. he answered himself sourly. And therein lay the crux of the matter. They were each other's best line of defense, the best support network either of them had. Well, that wasn't entirely true. Scully had her mother and her family, and some close friends, and Mulder had. . . Her. And all that had passed between them on the last case was driving him crazy. He wanted his best friend back. Sighing, Mulder trudged into the bedroom and changed into sweats and a T-shirt. He did his best thinking while running, and he was going to need to do some pretty intricate mental gyrations to come up with the best way to approach his ticked off partner. Grabbing his keys off the nightstand, he strode through the living room, yanked open the door, and almost ran over Scully. Startled, he pulled up short. "Hey," he said softly, brow creased in puzzlement. "Hey." She looked down at the ground, and then back up at him. "Can I come in?" Mulder wasn't at all sure he wanted to deal with her right now. Even though she looked. . .warmer. . .than she had in days, he knew all too well that this could be a temporary state of affairs. Nobody, but nobody, iced up faster than Scully. And frankly, they didn't have time to screw this up again, with the new case just waiting for them. Just looking at her was enough to make his skin tighten with annoyance. It was better if this discussion waited until he was sure he had his temper under control. "Uh, well, I was just going out for a run. . ." he began awkwardly. "It'll only take a minute." She colored faintly, clearly uneasy about her appearance on his doorstep. She paused for a moment. "Please." It was the -please- that was Mulder's undoing. Scully rarely asked him for anything, and there was no way he could be heartless enough to refuse her whatever she wanted on those rare occasions that she opened herself up enough to ask. he thought sourly, and quickly squelched the thought. Unless he was very much mistaken, he was about to be the recipient of a small, and if he knew Scully, grudging, olive branch. If he took it, it would save him a long run in the cold rain, not to mention a week of Hell in Nowheresville, Idaho. But he was damned if he was going to make it easy for her. He let out his breath on a sigh. "Sure." Waving her into the apartment, he closed the door behind her and leaned against it, crossing his arms. "What's on your mind, Scully? Come to flay me some more?" "Is that an invitation, Mulder?" she snapped, eyes flashing for a moment. "Didn't think you needed one, Scully." She closed her eyes and gave a rueful half-smile. "I guess I deserved that." Shaking her head, she turned to face him. "And you didn't. I came to apologize, Mulder. The way I've been acting is juvenile and stupid. I'm sorry." She shrugged in confusion. "I don't know why I've been this way. . ." "but it's going to stop." "I told you why, Scully." His tone softened, barely, but his expression and his stance were still uncompromising. "Seems to me if events affected Angela that strongly, they would have affected you too. Or is that too hard to accept? That sort of extreme possibility messing with your head?" There was more riding on this answer than a simple yes or no, and Scully knew it. Trouble was, no matter how she answered his question, she was going to get herself in trouble. Strangely, she believed his theory that there was some kind of atmospheric condition in Comity that day that affected people's actions. But she also knew that her lingering hostility was due to something else entirely. If she admitted that much, Mulder wouldn't let it go until she told him what was going on, and Scully just wasn't sure she was ready for that kind of honesty. Not yet, at least. And if she agreed with him outright, she'd be lying. And Scully was a terrible liar. The last thing she wanted was for him to realize she wasn't telling him the whole truth and mistakenly accuse her of feeding him a line just to make things right between them. Oh, yes, she was between a rock and a hard place. In the end, she opted for the partial truth and hoped it would be enough. "It isn't that the possibility is too hard to accept, Mulder. It's that it's too easy." Gesturing helplessly, she tried to explain without giving away too much. "Much as I'd like to believe that some cosmic convergence was responsible for my behavior on this case, it would be an excuse. Even if it were true, it doesn't absolve me from my actions. It's like blaming my moods on PMS. It isn't that PMS doesn't exist; I just can't let it control me." "-Did- you have PMS?" She glared at him, an angry retort on her lips, when he laughed gently. "Scully. You're always so hard on yourself." And she was, which made Mulder feel just a bit guilty. "I wasn't exactly the soul of politeness to you, either, a fact which you have been gracious enough to not bring up this evening." "I was getting there, Mulder. You just didn't let me finish." Her eyes twinkled. "So I egged you on. Frankly, considering my comment about snapping on the latex, I'm surprised you didn't smack me. I would have deserved it." He dropped his arms and crossed to stand in front of her. "So we were both idiots. Wanna kiss and make up?" "Mulder." She sighed with exasperation and rolled her eyes. "If I ever said yes, you'd probably have an embolism." Scully took one step forward and wrapped her arms around his middle, laying her head on his chest. Tension drained from her body as he returned the embrace, resting his chin on the top of her head. "Are we okay?" "Yeah. We're okay." Mulder took a deep, cleansing breath and frowned, pulling back just a touch. "Um, Scully?" "Hm?" She looked up at him quizzically. "What is it, Mulder?" He shook his head as if to clear it. "Nothing. Hey, guess where?" He released her and walked over to the desk, picking up the airline packet and waving it teasingly in the air. Scully squeezed her eyes shut and placed her forefingers at her temples, scowling in mock concentration. "Ahhhh. . .Idaho. Western Idaho." "Aw, you talked to Skinner." Scully winked, grabbing her purse and sashaying to the door. "Maybe I'm just psychic, Mulder." Pulling the door open, she blew him a kiss. "Whatever happened to extreme possibilities?" Her laughter echoed down the hall as she closed the door behind her. Mulder sighed, a wry grin on his face, and frowned again. His nose wrinkled. "That was definitely not the time to mention it," he murmured aloud. "But Scully is wearing my favorite perfume." Happy Slumber Motor Lodge Grangeville, Idaho "Ah, this is the life." Mulder sprawled on the bed, arms and legs spread wide, and surveyed the cracking paint, water-marked ceiling, and carpet bearing stains of doubtful origin. "Join the FBI. See the world." "Don't get too comfortable, Mulder. We haven't swept for bugs." Scully dropped her suitcases on the floor and eyed the mattress dubiously. His eyes widened and a smile spread across his face. "Why, Scully. You give me hope." "I meant the six and eight legged variety." "Ugh. City of Grime." Mulder hastily levered himself to a standing position and grinned suddenly, pointing. "Hey, Scully! Magic Fingers!" "Well, that'll flush the little buggers out in a hurry." "You have no romance in your soul." He made a face at her as he grabbed his bags and headed for the connecting door. "You up for the local cuisine in about twenty?" "Make it half an hour and you're on. I may make use of the Magic Fingers after all." She rotated her head, wincing as her neck cracked loudly. "I think I left a few vertebrae back on the plane." "Want me to take a look, Scully?" He waggled his eyebrows in a suggestive leer as he flexed his hands. "I'm willing to investigate. And I'm cheaper than the Magic Fingers." "Trust me, I know just how cheap you are." Smiling against her will, she shooed him toward the door. "Get, Mulder." "You wound me, Scully!" He clutched his hand over his heart. "Out!" Mulder grinned as he closed the connecting door behind him, casually shedding his clothes on the way to the microscopic, not to mention hygienically questionable, shower. It was good to have things back to normal with Scully. Better than normal, actually; she hadn't bantered like that with him in a while. He shook his head at himself in bewilderment. What was the world coming to when he looked forward to Scully's eye rolls? Well, whatever. He had his best friend back, and all was right with the world. Scully's head jerked around at the sound of an outraged yelp from the next room. "Mulder?" Pushing open the connecting door, she poked her head around the jamb. "Are you alrig--" She broke off at the sight of a wet, naked Mulder storming out of the bathroom. Skidding to a halt as he caught sight of her wide-eyed, motionless form, he yelped again as he grabbed for a pillow and held it strategically placed in front of him. "Jesus, Scully. Didn't anyone ever tell you to knock?" Totally flustered, she stammered, "I--I'm sorry, I just heard you yell, and I. . .well, um. . ." Blushing furiously, she quickly averted her eyes. "I thought something was wrong." "Damned shower has no hot water." He leaned into the bathroom, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around his hips. "I don't suppose yours is any better?" he asked hopefully. Scully shrugged. "I certainly hope so. The Magic Fingers seem to be on hiatus. I'm going to need a hot shower for sure, or I won't be able to move in the morning." She disappeared into her room, and a moment later, he heard her call out. "Yep. Come on in, the water's fine." Mulder stuck his head around the connecting door. "Sure you don't want to go first?" She examined his dripping form with some humor. "It's okay. You're already soaking wet." She flung up a hand as he opened his mouth. "Don't even say it, Mulder. There are lines, and you're about to pole vault over one of them." Prudently, he shut his mouth, grabbed the towels from his room and padded into the bathroom. "The offer of the Mulder Magic Fingers is still open," he yelled over the sound of the shower. "If you use up all the hot water, I just may take you up on that." "You can always join me. Conservation and all that." "Shut up, Mulder." Scully flopped face down on the bed, grimacing as her knotted muscles spasmed in protest. "I may take you up on it anyway," she muttered, pulling a pillow over her head. Five minutes later, he came stumbling out of the bathroom, a towel around his hips and another over his head as he rubbed his hair dry. "Should be enough left," he said through the terry-cloth. "Need help soaping up?" Scully couldn't help but chuckle as she pointed him toward the connecting door. "You are in fine form today, aren't you, Mulder?" Emerging from the towel, he threw her a wicked grin. "Nice of you to notice, Scully," he teased, just barely dodging an airborne pillow with his name on it as his partner stalked into her bathroom. "It's just too easy," he laughed to himself, crossing to the door. Just as his hand landed on the doorknob, his glance landed on the half opened travel kit on Scully's nightstand. Slowly, he picked up a small gold and crystal bottle poking out and cautiously brought it to his nose. Curiously, he examined the flacon. Although he knew the scent, he never knew what the damned stuff was actually -called-. All he knew was that for some unexplained reason, one whiff meant instant hard-on. He never had figured out why; so far as he knew, none of his previous lovers had ever worn the stuff. He turned the bottle over in his hands. 'Bare Escentuals Custom Scents' was engraved on the side, with a hand-lettered label below. "Wild Orchid," he mused. So that's what it was. Nothing cheesy, like Passion or Red or Obsession, but something that actually appeared in nature. Perversely, that made him feel better. Of course, the fact that Scully was wearing it didn't make him feel better at all. She didn't usually wear the damned stuff. He would have noticed. That was all he needed, damn it. She'd slug him for sure. Suddenly his head snapped around to stare at the bathroom door as he remembered noticing traces of the fragrance in the interrogation room in Comity. "Must be Detective White," he had said, after ostentatiously sniffing Scully for the telltale scent. Scully, he recalled, hadn't liked that comment at all. Somehow, his partner must have found out what kind of perfume he liked. . .and started wearing it? Good Lord, why? To please him? He blinked in shock. Good God. Was Scully -jealous-? Is that what all this was about? Numbly, Mulder retreated to his own room and sat down heavily on the bed. He needed to process. It wasn't that Mulder didn't think his partner was attractive. Hell, he would have to be dead to not think that. He just never thought she had noticed him. On the contrary, he figured she thought of him as some kind of surrogate brother. Why else would she have done something so provocative on their very first case as to walk into his room and drop her robe right in front of him? Sure, she'd been scared, but still... He'd been so stunned he hadn't even surveyed the landscape, an oversight that he had cheerfully kicked himself for on more than one occasion since. He flirted with her, sure. But that was to be expected. He was a guy, wasn't he? That was his job, to make stupid jokes and sexually harass his pretty partner. But if he was honest, it was more than that, and had been for some time. As a lover, a life partner, he wasn't worth the ground Scully walked on and he knew it. The teasing banter was just a way of connecting in the lightest of sexual ways; despite his belief in the incredible, Mulder was, in his heart of hearts, a realist. He figured innuendo was the closest he would ever get. And it kept a distance between them; it kept her from ever suspecting that the flippant words masked a deeper longing, one he dared not ever admit, even to himself. Not just to move from friends to lovers, but beyond. Was he willing to cross this one? For the first time, Mulder considered the possibility that if he made an overture, he might get more than a slap in the face. And if it had been two years ago, that possibility might have been enough for him to take the risk. But he also knew that one night with Scully wouldn't be enough. Not anymore. His deepest secret, the one he had so carefully guarded, could no longer be ignored. He wanted the whole enchilada. With Scully. Which meant that he'd better mind his manners, he realized as he pulled on a pair of jeans. Sex was one thing. A relationship was something else. And as his best friend, Mulder wanted something better for Scully than anything he could offer her. She might be willing to settle for damaged goods. . .the perfume was evidence that she'd at least considered it. . .but she deserved better. "Mulder?" He looked up to see Scully, fresh and damp from her shower, standing in the doorway. The delicate scent of orchids teased his nostrils. "If that offer's still open. . .the hot water ran out about halfway through my shower. It waited just long enough for me to get a head full of shampoo." She winced as she tried to turn her head. "Everything just cramped up on me." Mulder bit back a groan. Whether it was from the scent of the damned perfume, the realization that it was emanating from Scully, or the sudden visual of her slick body covered with lather, he couldn't say, but no matter the cause, his common sense and about half his blood supply had headed south for the winter. And now she wanted him to -touch- her? Mulder decided, Scully turned to head back in her room, barely stifling a gasp of pain, and Mulder resolved to kick his own ass while he was at it. The woman was in pain, and all he could think about was his libido? His eyes rested on the gentle swell of her buttocks beneath the robe as he followed her through the connecting door, and he manfully gritted his teeth. Mulder damn near choked as Scully unselfconsciously dropped her robe, leaving her clad only in a T-shirt and panties, and stretched out face down on the bed. he cursed mentally. Sitting down on the bed next to her, he examined his hands, mildly surprised to see they were shaking a bit. Mulder took a good look at her, and had to bite his lip to keep back another guttural sound. She wasn't wearing a bra. Taking a deep breath, he reached out and rested his hands on her shoulders. "Wait a minute. Use this." Reaching over to the nightstand, she handed him a bottle of hand lotion. Mulder discovered, to his horror, that it matched the perfume bottle. Scully held her breath. As far as she was concerned, this was the moment of truth. Maybe he hadn't been close enough to her for long enough to notice that her perfume had changed, but surely, he'd recognize the name on the bottle. she counseled herself. He might not ever put two and two together, and that was fine. On the other hand, he might figure it out, but knowing Mulder, he'd be too much the gentleman to comment on it. That was fine, too. Either way, it should be. . .fine. Unless. . . Scully didn't mean to go there. This wasn't about seducing Mulder, after all; she was truly in pain. But for the love of God, she was half-naked on a bed, with her gorgeous partner about to put his hands all over her. A tiny part of her kept hoping that maybe, just maybe, his quick mind would put all the pieces together. . .and maybe, just maybe, he might feel some of the same attraction. she argued with herself. her inner voice taunted. Mulder swallowed hard and uncapped the bottle, warming some of the lotion on his hands. He was suddenly, painfully aware that if Scully wanted him to use the stuff on her back, he was going to have to move the T-shirt out of the way and stroke her bare flesh. He tightened his jaw. Very painfully aware. Mulder figured that on that scale, he'd rank just about even with a horny sixteen year old. Slowly, he eased the fabric up, sweat breaking out on his forehead as the edge of her lacy panties came into view. "Mulder, are you. . .ohhhhh." Scully broke off in a quiet moan as she felt her partner's strong hands on her lower back, gently kneading. "That's nice," she mumbled, burying her head in the pillow as she stretched slightly beneath his touch. Another soft groan escaped her lips as she felt her muscles slowly relaxing under his firm, skilled massage. she wondered muzzily, melting into the mattress like butter in the sun. If Scully was unwinding, Mulder was getting more tense by the second. Watching and hearing Scully react to every movement of his fingers was hell on his composure, and he couldn't help but wonder if she'd be this responsive if he touched her the way he truly wanted to. Grimly, he began to conjugate Latin verbs in his head, mentally recited baseball stats, pictured Smoking Man in his underwear, anything to distract him from Scully's near-naked form undulating on the bed. Slipping his hands under her shirt to the nape of her neck, he applied a fine pressure with his thumbs on either side of her spine, running them slowly back down to just above her buttocks. Scully moaned in approval. Smiling painfully, he repeated the motion, feeling knotted muscles unwind as he stroked and massaged her back. Despite his growing desire, he was gratified that he was able to bring her some relief from the obvious tension in her body. Now, if he could only do something about the tension in his. . . She moaned again, arching her back slightly before dropping back down to the mattress. Mulder's plan, however, had one fatal flaw. It didn't take into account the fact that his hands had a mind of their own. Unbeknownst to him, as he focused his concentration on an intent study of second grade mathematics, the hands in question gradually slowed and lightened their touch. Lightly, easily, the traitorous fingers stroked Scully's skin, gently caressing her back and sides. Almost delicately, they feathered over her slender form, learning her texture and bringing her sleeping nerve endings into blazing awareness. Scully's eyes popped open as she registered the change in pressure, and with a soft gasp, heat flooded her lower body. Fire followed every stroke of his fingers as they trailed lazily over her back, and she purred her pleasure as she slowly closed her eyes again, arching just slightly into his touch like a kitten begging to be stroked. -That- sound penetrated Mulder's consciousness like a crack of thunder. In horror, he realized exactly how he was touching his partner, but almost simultaneously, he recognized that she wasn't protesting. In fact, she seemed pleased with his gentle petting. Emboldened by this observation, he eased her T-shirt up farther, lightly caressing the sides of her torso and skimming up to stroke the sensitive insides of her arms. Running his hands softly up and down her sides, he grazed the sides of her breasts and quickly pulled back, suddenly afraid he'd pushed this game too far. To his shock, Scully pulled her weight up on her elbows, arching her back off the bed. Mulder needed no second invitation. Leaning over her, he slipped his hands underneath her lithe body and palmed her breasts, kneading them gently as he plucked at her nipples. Scully moaned again, more sharply this time, as she pressed her flesh more firmly into his hands in response. Her hips rocked backward, pushing against his pelvis to connect with his now painfully hardened erection. He gasped, bucking against her as he leaned forward to suckle on her earlobe. "If you're gonna stop me, Scully," he growled harshly, his hot breath bathing her ear and sending shivers down her spine, "it better be now." In answer, she pushed herself upright so she was practically sitting in his lap, winding one arm up and around his neck. With the other, she took one of his hands and guided it to her inner thigh. "For the love of God, Mulder," she whimpered in a voice that was more breath than sound, "don't stop." He slid his palm up her leg to the juncture of her thighs and stroked his fingers over the fabric of her panties, sucking in a breath as they practically dissolved in his hand. The heady scent of her perfume filled his lungs, clouding his senses and numbing his mind. Sucking lightly on her neck, Mulder pinched one nipple firmly between his thumb and forefinger, and rotated his other hand in a small circle once, then twice. Scully gave a shocked cry and pushed her hips forward demandingly into the cradle of his hand, urging him to deepen the caress. "Scully," he gasped out, sliding his fingers under her panties and into her hot wetness, penetrating her gently. She shuddered, whimpering his name as her flesh contracted around his hand. Mulder stilled, breathing deeply. "Scully." She was panting now, rocking her hips, reveling in the sensation of being impaled on his hand. "Mulder, don't stop. . ." "Scully, please. . .I. . ." He swallowed hard, using every shred of nobility and masochism in his soul to help him slide his hands away from her needy body. "Scully. I can't. . .I can't do this." Now it was her turn to freeze as his words penetrated her mind as surely as his hand had just penetrated her body. "Oh, my God." She pulled away from him, yanking the blanket over her. "God. What did I. . .I can't believe I. . .oh, my God." Utterly humiliated, she kept her back to Mulder, burying her face in her hands. "Oh god oh god oh god," she moaned over and over, her body shaking with reaction. Staring at her in consternation, Mulder realized that he was completely at a loss. Realizing he needed to stop was easy. Figuring out what to do once he - did- manage to stop was something he hadn't considered. And if he didn't figure it out quick, he was going to have a disaster of near biblical proportions on his hands. Mulder eyed her with some concern. Judging by Scully's horrified reaction, the apocalypse might already be at hand. Silently, he groaned. He didn't do graceful at all well, but he had to make this right. "Are you okay, Scully?" "I want you to leave now," she whispered shakily. "Scully." Mulder reached out to touch her shoulder. Awkwardly, she jerked away. "Just go, Mulder. I don't think I can face you right now." "Scully, please. You didn't do anything wrong. I just. . ." "For Christ's sake, Mulder, would you just shut up and get out? There isn't a damned thing you can say right now to make this better." She burrowed deeper in the blankets, trying in vain to bring some warmth to her suddenly icy body and heart. Mulder gritted his teeth in sudden frustration. Unresolved tension still tightened his body, seeking a release, and he found it in anger. "Why the hell are you so sure of that? I'm a little sick of you thinking you know the answer to every damned problem. Now you think you can tell me what's going on inside my head?" She glared over her shoulder at him. "I have no idea what's going on in your head, Mulder," she spat, "and I don't really care right now. All I want is for you to get the hell out and leave me alone for a while. Haven't you done enough?" Tears threatened and she turned her head away before he could see. "Haven't we both done enough?" she whispered. She wasn't fast enough, and Mulder cursed quietly at the sight. No matter how pure his intentions, it seemed he had an amazing gift for saying and doing the wrong thing, especially where Scully was concerned. "Ah, hell, Scully. Don't you even want to know why?" She laughed harshly at that. "I know why, Mulder. You're a guy. I threw myself at you. It's just that you happen to be a -nice- guy, too. You can spare me the platitudes and the speech about preserving our partnership." "Like I said, you think you have the answer to everything. Wrong again, Scully. Jesus, do I have to spell it out for you?" Grabbing her shoulders, he rolled her over, forcing her eyes to his. Her jaw dropped. "No, you don't, Mulder. Haven't I been trying to tell you that?" Her shoulders slumped. "I really, really don't need to hear anything you have to say." "Too bad. I'm gonna tell you anyway." A muscle in his jaw jumped as he glared down at her. "Preserving our partnership is a moot point now, Scully. It's never going to be the same and you know it." Raising his eyebrows, he waited. Slowly, she closed her eyes briefly and nodded wearily. "So I might as well tell you why I stopped. Nothing I say could screw things up worse than I already have." "You think?" Her eyes widened in disbelief. "Mulder, do you really think that just because we won't be able to work together anymore, you can finally tell me that you find me unattractive? I already knew that. If I hadn't, the fact that you couldn't even bring yourself to make love to me when I offered myself up to you on a silver platter would have clued me in." She bit her lip. "Can't you leave me even a shred of dignity?" Mulder was speechless. For long moments, his mouth worked soundlessly as he tried to assimilate what his partner had just said. "Scully--you--I--you think-- " He stopped and shook his head as if to clear it. "Scully, there are so many things wrong with that statement that I don't even know where to start." His voice dropped to an ominous whisper as his eyes blazed down at her. "Do you honestly believe that?" He shook her lightly. "Do you?" Scully stared up at him in wide-eyed consternation. "Mulder. . ." Grimly, he began ticking off the points on his fingers. "First. I didn't say that we couldn't work together anymore, just that our partnership wouldn't be the same. I have enough faith in our friendship to think that we can find a way to get past this, even if you don't. "Secondly. I do not, nor have I ever, thought you were unattractive. I have been attracted to you since the day we met. So attracted, in fact, that I fantasize about making love to you almost every night. I have for years. It's you I picture when I touch myself. It's your name on my lips when I come. Does that make you feel better?" Her mouth dropped open in amazement. "Thirdly. The only thing I had trouble bringing myself to do was stopping just now. It damned near killed me to stop touching you, thinking it was finally going to happen. And when reality makes my masturbatory fantasies look like a Disney movie--Lady, the English language hasn't come up with a word to describe how wrong you are." Scully was dumbfounded. She could only stare at him blankly. "Then. . .why. . .?" Mulder swore in exasperation. "Jesus, you're so--because I love you, goddamit!" he exploded. "I had just enough survival instinct left to not let this happen. I have a hard enough time, and I do mean hard, getting through a freakin' day with you as it is! But this," he snapped, ripping the blanket from her numb fingers and letting his eyes rake over her body, "isn't enough for me. Yeah, the sex would be great. But it's not enough. It's not worth losing my mind over." In a rush, all the anger drained out of him and he stood wearily, bowing his head. "It's not worth losing my best friend over," he said quietly. Suddenly, he felt very, very tired. And very, very old. Slowly, he walked to the connecting door. "I'm sorry, Scully," he said softly, keeping his back to her. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I never should have let things get that far." "Mulder..." He opened the door and paused. "We don't have to be at the cemetery until 2:00 tomorrow afternoon. Take the car and I'll meet you there, okay? I'm going out for a run." Softly, he closed the door behind him. "Dammit, Mulder! Don't you dare walk out on me!" Scully scrambled into a pair of sweatpants and dashed after him, yanking open the door to his room. It was empty. She swore in frustration. In another time and place, she would have spent a minute musing on the irony of their suddenly reversed positions. But right now, her mind was blank. Mulder loved her. She marveled at his courage. Fully believing that she didn't return his feelings, he had exposed his most intimate parts to her. And terrified of what he assumed would be inevitable rejection, he decided to turn tail and run rather than face her. Oh, yeah. She knew all about that kind of insecurity. He was probably out there running himself into the ground, licking his wounds, punishing himself for his weakness, regretting his actions, and trying to figure out a way to make everything right again. Hadn't she wanted to do the same thing? She would have, too, if he hadn't dropped that bombshell on her. And like her, he believed there was nothing to be said that would change reality as he knew it. Except the truth. No doubt about it. They were a perfect pair. Glancing around his room, she spied his wallet sitting on the nightstand and smiled. He'd be back. Scully wandered back into her own room to wait, dazed by the events of the past hour. Mulder loved her. "You won't be sorry, partner. I guarantee it," she whispered, hugging herself. Three hours later Mulder was dreaming. It was the only explanation his sleep-fogged mind could come up with to explain the sensation of a warm, wet mouth surrounding his hardened cock. Reaching down, he touched the soft silkiness of a woman's hair and the smooth skin of her face, and his head dropped back on the pillow as the sensations rolled over him. Groaning, he gave himself up to the dream. "Scully," he moaned, trembling. In answer, unseen fingers trailed up the inside of his thigh to cup his balls, stroking gently, rolling the sensitive flesh from side to side. A tongue flicked lightly around the head of his shaft, teasing and rubbing just the way he liked. Her free hand wrapped around his hardness, pumping firmly as she applied a light suction to the head of his cock. He gasped and bucked. "Oh, God, Scully." His fingers twisted in her hair. "God, yeah. . ." Her head bobbed faster, her tight lips stroking the skin of his cock in rhythmic counterpoint to the insistent pumping of her hands. Her tongue feathered over the sensitive glans again and again, tasting the fluid there. A moment later, a warm wetness engulfed his balls as she took them gently in her mouth, bathing them with her tongue. Air hissed between his teeth as his hips arched. "Please, Scully," he begged, writhing in passion. His briefly neglected cock shivered, the air in the room cooling the dampness left behind as she mouthed his most sensitive flesh. "God, yeah. . .so good," he panted, picturing her lips on him in his mind's eye. "Don't stop, Scully. . ." She pulled back, running her tongue up the underside of his rock-solid shaft until her lips just brushed the head of his cock. "You're so beautiful, Mulder," she whispered. He moaned sharply, his head tossing fitfully on the pillow as her warm breath bathed his flesh. Ever so gently, she licked the tip of his throbbing erection. He gave a choked whimper. "Mulder, it's me. Come for me. . ." She drove her mouth down over him, sucking hard, and he gasped, inhaling the scent of orchids. Mulder knew then that this was no dream, but despite the realization, or maybe because of it, there was no stopping his orgasm. It boiled up from deep inside him, ripping through his body with the force of a thunderbolt. "Ahhhhh. . .Scully!" The cry was torn from him as his cock exploded, pumping his passion deep in her throat with short, sharp spasms of sensation. On and on it went, the waves crashing over him endlessly, and through it all, she urged him on with her hands, her mouth, her voice, milking him until he had no more left to give. Finally, the painfully intense convulsions subsided and he lay panting in her embrace. It was long moments before he was able to speak. "Scully," he began, voice shaking. "I told you I--" Instantly, her fingertips rested against his full lips. "Mulder, don't. Don't talk. Just listen." She curled up next to him, her warm nakedness pressed against him. "I read somewhere that a woman needs to feel loved to make love, and a man needs to make love to feel loved. I don't know if that's true, but if it is, that should tell you everything you need to know." Reaching up, she pressed her soft lips against his, and for a brief moment, he could taste himself on her mouth. Unbelievably, his erection stirred again. Scully smiled at the sensation. "Did you really think, after what you told me, that I would force this on you? Especially after what happened before?" She kissed his neck, nuzzling him. "I love you too, Mulder. I have for so long that I can't remember a time I didn't love you. I can't remember when I didn't want you. Want this." She kissed him again, lingeringly. "If you'd waited ten seconds for me to get my breath back, I would have told you that three hours ago." "Scully." His voice was awed. "You love me, Scully?" She smiled softly in the darkness. "Is that so hard to believe?" "You have no idea." He rolled her over onto her back, capturing her lips tenderly with his. "Say it again, Scully," he whispered against her mouth. "I need to hear it again." She swallowed hard at the obvious emotional nakedness in his tone. "I love you, Mulder," she said simply. "I always have." She touched her mouth to his. "I always will." He stroked her cheek. "I thought I was dreaming, when I felt you touching me." He chuckled, the sound rusty from disuse. "I'm not so sure I'm not, still." "Mm." She slipped her arms around his neck, pressing her body to his. "Was it a good dream, Mulder?" she asked teasingly. "Oh, yeah," he breathed feelingly, his hand slipping down to cup her buttocks. "Wanna know how good, Scully?" Slowly he began kissing her neck, his pliant lips starting a sensual tour of her body, pausing occasionally to linger at sensitive points of interest. "Tell me," she breathed, lifting her hands to tangle in his hair. FBI Headquarters Two weeks later Scully plucked the card off the package sitting on her desk with curiosity. "It's not my birthday, Mulder," she said absently, fingering the envelope. He glanced up, setting the file he had been studying down on the desk. "Don't look at me. It came by UPS this morning." He waggled his eyebrows in a mock leer. "I like to deliver my gifts to you in person." She rolled her eyes. "You don't give up, do you?" "No." His gaze softened. "Neither do you. Have I told you lately how happy that makes me?" Scully blushed and busied herself opening the parcel. A moment later, she laughed happily. "Mulder. This must have cost you a fortune!" Pushing back his chair, he walked around the desk to stand behind her, examining the gift. Inside the box was a collection of shower gel, bath beads, bath oil, perfume, body mist, hand lotion, powder, shampoo and conditioner, all bearing the insignia of Bare Escentuals, and all scented in Wild Orchid. "I hate to tell you this, Scully, but I didn't do it. Much as I'm grateful to your unknown admirer." It hadn't taken long for Scully to figure out exactly what effect Mulder's "favorite perfume" had on him. By tacit agreement, she never wore the scent at the office, a concession which made Mulder grateful and perversely disgruntled at the same time. "Then who--" She ripped the envelope open and hastily scanned the contents. "Oh, Lord," she groaned. "I don't know whether to laugh or die of embarrassment." Mulder held out his hand for the card. She clutched it to her chest protectively. He raised his eyebrows. Sighing in defeat, she handed it over. "You'll just harass me until I tell you, anyway," she muttered sourly. Mulder's generous mouth twitched as he scanned the neatly printed text. "Why do I sense a story here, Scully?" Tossing the note on the desk, he spun her chair around and pinned her with his eyes. Raising her chin, she returned his stare bravely. "Doesn't it scare you, Mulder?" He pursed his lips thoughtfully. "No. But it should scare you." "And if it doesn't?" Scully was suddenly breathless. "Then. . ." He grasped her hands and pulled her out of the chair. "I'd say we have some shopping to do." He pulled her to the door. "Why don't you grab that box? I have a feeling we're going to need it later." Assistant Director Skinner rapped on the door of the basement office for the second time, slightly annoyed as he realized that neither Mulder nor Scully was inside. It didn't surprise him that they'd missed their meeting with him. It was plain to see that neither one of them had been themselves since they'd returned from Comity. And since they'd gotten back from Grangeville. . .well, you didn't have to be a Special Agent to figure out what was going on between them. Skinner was only surprised it had taken this long. Fitting his key in the lock, he entered the office and flipped on the light, preparing to search through Hurricane Mulder to find the file he needed. He stopped at the sight of the note sitting on Scully's normally immaculate desk. Wondering if it might explain their absence, he put on his glasses and picked it up. Dana - Thanks for the understanding. Good luck, and I hope I helped you in your. . .quest. If everything works out the way you hope, you and Mulder can consider this an early wedding present. If not, it'll be a souvenir of one hell of a night. Angela He let out a bray of laughter. It also didn't take a Special Agent to figure out that the entire X-Files staff was probably off somewhere having a -very- personal discussion. Skinner located the file in short order and walked out of the basement, carefully locking the door behind him. He was going to have some dandy administrative maneuvering to do to pull this off, but what the hell. It was about damned time. Whistling, he headed for the elevator. END