From: Suzanne Schramm Title: Making Waves Author: Suzanne Schramm Email: sister_suze@yahoo.com Rating: NC-17 Classification: MSR Distribution: Gossamer please. Everyone else please ask first (I never say "no" - I just have this perverse need to know). Spoilers: Season 6 through "Unnatural" Summary: Waterbed fic. In my universe Mulder still has the waterbed. Hint of a case file. Lots of water sport. Disclaimer: Chuh! Like they're mine! I could waste hours arguing the merits of platonic vs. resolved on the actual show but fanfic was invented so Mulder and Scully could do all sorts of nasty things. Let's just hope Mr. Carter or his minions aren't looking. Chris, if you are, I know they're not my creations and I give you full credit for the original idea. You hear that? Full credit. For Mark - who never fails to jump start the muse (or my heart). 'Splain it to me again, sweetheart. Endless gratitude to Sharon and Susanne for being enthusiastic even when I wasn't, for making me laugh and for their willingness to go over this word by word. But most of all I thank them for simply for being Sharon and Susanne. If this looks good at all it's because of them. *&*&* I never thought this day would end. I never thought tonight you'd ever be This close to me. *&*&* I'm standing across the street from my building, staring in bewilderment at the steaming blackened walls that were once my neighbor's apartment. The fire marshall comes across the street, gesturing for all of us to gather around. "We've got the fire out now," he assures us. "But it's going to take a couple of days to assess the damage. I'm sorry but we can't allow anyone inside until after the structure is checked out." Grumbles all around, and I give silent thanks that I left my carry-on bag in the trunk of my car last night. At least I have my toothbrush and, once I find a laundromat, some clean underwear. But two days? I could go to my mother's but that's a hell of a commute. I could stay at a hotel, but D.C. over Memorial Day is going to be a tight squeeze with all the tourists in town. "Hey, Scully, are you ok?" A familiar hand brushes my elbow and I turn in surprise. "Mulder? What are you doing here?" "I was at the Gunmen's when I heard over the scanner there was a fire at your building." Of course. Where else would he spend a sunny federal holiday? Mulder shakes his head and lets out a long sigh as he looks at the smoldering building across the street from us. "How bad is your apartment?" he asks. "I think my kitchen might be scorched. I don't know about the smoke damage yet. They won't let us in." Mulder gestures towards the fire marshall. "So I heard. Are you going to stay with your mom?" I nod glumly. "I'll go over there, yes. She's gone to San Diego for Memorial Day, but I have a key." Mulder says nothing, giving me a understanding look in return. He doesn't ask why I would prefer to remain behind and I don't have to tell him. "You could stay with me." he says, so quietly I almost don't catch it over the noise and bustle surrounding us. I look up at him, wondering if this is pity over me having spent the holiday alone or if he's being polite. But his face is serious, his eyes gentle. "I..., I don't know, Mulder." "Oh come on. I got a new water mattress after the leak and no one has used it yet." I smile at him and he shrugs. "Call me sentimental, I like the couch." "Fine." I say and Mulder smiles. Maybe this won't be so bad. Mulder and I rarely spend time together outside of a case. Our relationship has always ebbed and flowed, vacillating back and forth between strictly business and flirtation. The past few weeks have been relaxed and I genuinely wouldn't mind spending more time in his company. Prolonged exposure to Mulder usually changes that opinion but I'm willing to risk it. *&*&* Scully's car is behind mine most of the way to my apartment. I'm glad she's agreed to spend the next couple of days with me. I've been worried about her lately. Mother's Day came and went leaving only an awkward silence between us on Monday. Despite my gentle teasing of her the week before while playing baseball, I don't know how to deal with her biological clock. Or rather, I don't know how to deal with the loss of it. What will it take to get us back to that point again? Scully, easy in my arms as we moved together in tandem - for just one night we were years younger and conspiracies were the furthest thought from my mind. As we left the field that night I felt sixteen again - giddy in the warm affection of an attractive female. We don't allow for the quieter moments often enough. I sometimes think Scully doesn't want me that close. The rest of the time I think she doesn't want anyone to be that close. Even after all these years, I must admit that Scully's heart is a mystery to me. I realized in the midst of our batting practice that her heart is a mystery to me and I've never tried to get a glimpse inside. It has always seemed like an invasion to try and profile Scully. Others haven't kept such a respectful distance, Padgett most recently. But did he really get inside her? I read his novel and was sickened at the thought that maybe I really didn't know her at all. All I want is another moment when her guard is down. I just want to be in her heart again, even if it's only for a few minutes. *&*&* Mulder looks up from the t.v. when I come out of the bathroom. I suddenly feel a little awkward standing there in my pajamas, my hair still damp from the shower. His gaze doesn't linger long, he looks me in the eye, but I still feel like I'm being appraised in a non-partnerly way. I cross my arms over my chest and the corners of Mulder's mouth twitch. He's fighting a smile. I wish I had gone to my mother's. I start to move again, intending to go into the bedroom and pretend this isn't affecting me. "Hitting the sack now?" he asks. "Yes. That is, I'll probably read for a little while, but I'm going to bed now." I stop at the door to his bedroom and look over at him. "Unless you wanted to talk or something. I can stay up a little longer." "No, Scully, " he smiles and lifts the remote to change channels. "I wouldn't dream of keeping you up late on a school night." "Well," I stare at my hand where it rests on the door jamb. "Good night, Mulder." "Sleep tight." I step inside the bedroom and shut the door until only a small sliver of light shines in from the living room. Somehow it seems rude to shut it all the way. And there is the bed. The one Mulder swears is a practical joke the Gunmen pulled on him, however much they attest to their innocence. I've heard him grousing about this bed at the office, but I had never seen it until a few hours ago. It was hard not to tease him when Mulder stammered and showed me inside his long concealed bedroom. It's unusual to see Mulder uncomfortable like that, usually I'm the one squirming from the impropriety of a remark or situation. Well, squirming on the inside. I move my overnight bag off the bed and sit down. The bed rolls beneath me, shifting me so that my feet leave the floor. I snicker to myself and wonder if Mulder might consider putting a regular mattress in the frame. It's a gorgeous mahogany wood, whoever bought it spared no expense. No expense at all I realize as I lay back and catch sight of the mirrors above me. Oh my. No wonder Mulder was flustered. If this was in my bedroom I'd be damned if I'd let him know about it. I watch my reflection bobbing gently above me as the bed's mattress settles. Unbidden, I see the reflected image of my hands stroking across his broad shoulders in the mirror. I can see the flex and pull of his muscles as he moves above me.... I close my eyes and wish it away. *&*&* I shift against the cool leather of my couch and will myself to sleep. I can't. I can't get comfortable. Can't do anything but think about Scully lying on the opposite side of this wall. Is she still awake? I lift my wrist so I can see my watch. 11:48 p.m. Scully's probably long since fallen asleep. I had no idea it would be this unnerving to have her sleep here when I invited her. But ever since she stepped out of the bathroom I've been fighting a losing battle with common sense. I saw her nipples outlined against the cool silk of her pajamas. I didn't look long, but I think she caught me at it because she crossed her arms. Then she made a beeline for the bedroom and I realized something astounding. Scully's nervous too. Why would she be nervous around me? Her partner of seven years? The person who has seen her through better or worse, sickness and health? Could it be that tonight she doesn't see me as Agent Mulder, her partner? What does she see me as? I held my breath, waiting, as she shut the bedroom door. She didn't shut it all the way. I've over-analyzed that gesture the past couple of hours. She didn't shut the door. She left it open a crack. Even when we end up with connecting doors at a motel the door between us stays firmly shut. Tonight she hasn't shut me out. *&*&* Over the years I've become adept at falling asleep in strange beds. But not tonight. Tonight I toss and turn at every sound, every clank of the building's pipes, every car driving by. I can hear footsteps above me and I wonder who's renting that apartment now. Is it another Osselhoff watching my every movement in the dark? Are the mirrors above me really hiding a camera? I stare into the darkened mirror above me watching the glowing red reflection of Mulder's alarm clock, another indication of his duplicity. Mulder lied to me. He sleeps in this bed all the time. I'd bet what's left of my apartment on it. The pillows smell like him. The sheets smell like him. I'm cocooned in a cotton-Mulder and I'm hating myself for enjoying it. Asthetically he's always smelled nice. Sometimes when he bends to speak to me I'll catch a hint of his aftershave. But it's not the unadulterated scent o'Mulder that's keeping me awake. I'm sleeping in Mulder's bed. True, he's slept in mine, but he was very sick. I even fell asleep on his couch once while he was missing, but this feels different. This feels intimate. Perhaps it's the way every move I make sends a wave rolling back to nudge and caress me. It definitely has to do with the fact that I can't help burrowing my head into his pillow and inhaling deeply. What's keeping me awake is Mulder sleeping in the next room. *&*&* I can't sleep. I take another glance at my watch. 12:26 a.m. There is a thud on the floor above me. My new neighbors, Ray and Sylvia Curtis. Newlyweds. Most nights I lay on the waterbed and time the rhythmic squeak of their bed against the floorboards. Ray's in excellent physical condition and sometimes I have to marvel at his prowess. Judging by the regular pattern of the thuds tonight they have moved it into their living room, perhaps out of courtesy for Scully. Sylvia lets loose with a squeal that carries quite clearly through the floor. I wonder if they realize that a man was killed right where they're currently celebrating life. /Ray.../ I pull the pillow over my head and curse them. I envy their youth, their zeal and the fact that they're actually getting laid (for what must be the twenty-third time this week, by my count). Sylvia lets out a scream that could awaken every tenant in the building, even Mrs. Zapotski in 202. Hooray for Ray. I wonder if Scully heard. God, I hope not. *&*&* Any hope I had of falling asleep is gone now. Mulder's upstairs neighbors are beyond enthusiastic. Listening to them has left me as breathless as Ray's companion. I lie here, fighting a laugh and wonder if Mulder is awake. Perhaps all the years of falling asleep with porn in the VCR has deadened him to the sounds of passion. A few minutes have passed since that last scream and I wiggle my toes, waiting. The bed stirs but there's not a peep from upstairs. Nope, looks like the floor show is over. I hesitate, wanting a drink of water but not wanting to face Mulder after the pyrotechnics above us. I slide out of bed and walk to the door, opening it a little wider and listening carefully. Nothing. The coast is clear. *&*&* Oh shit. She's awake. I hear the creak of my own floorboards and the eek of the bedroom door. Then nothing. She's wondering if I'm awake. I keep my breathing steady and decide to just play possum. *&*&* I step out of the room, cringing when the wooden floor beneath me protests loudly. Mulder continues to slumber, there's not even a twitch from the couch. Emboldened, I scurry quickly into his kitchen and open the cupboard above his sink, feeling for and finding a glass in the dark. I turn on the tap, let the water run for a few seconds and then fill the glass. The water's not quite cold and tastes flat, but I still gulp it down. I set the glass down in the sink with a soft 'clink' and head back towards the living room. I pause halfway to the safety of his bedroom. The living room's shades are not closed and moonlight streams in, highlighting Mulder on the couch in tones of blue and gray. He's lying on his back, his arms folded across his chest, the blanket kicked down around his ankles. I can feel the chill breeze coming in through the open window from here. He must be freezing. Without pausing to consider, I move so that I'm standing right next to the couch, lifting the blanket and smoothing it over him. He sighs, shifting a little and I can't tear my eyes away from his lips. It's been almost a year, but I still remember vividly the night we almost kissed. I've told myself ever since that it was a good thing it never happened. Getting involved with Mulder on a more personal level would be the equivalent of emotional suicide. But in his quieter moments, and especially now, the lure of him is greater than any rationalization I can provide. "Mulder?" I whisper, just to check. He doesn't answer and my hand moves to caress his cheek, my thumb tracing the line of his lower lip. I smile. As a kid I played a game with my brothers and sister, a contest to see who could most convincingly pretend to be asleep. Mulder's eyelids fluttered as I touched him. "You big faker, " I tell him, pulling my hand away. *&*&* I can't help the smile when she speaks. I'm not sure how, but she knew I was awake. "What are you doing, Scully?" I mumble, pretending to at least be sleepy, if I can't be asleep. "Wipe the grin off your face, Mulder." She sounds almost annoyed. I open my eyes to see her moving back towards the bedroom. "Thank you," I call to her. "For tucking me in." This time the door shuts firmly between us. *&*&* I awake with a start when the alarm clock goes off, staring in momentary bewilderment at my groggy reflection. The waterbed sloshes beneath me as I flail my arm to hit the snooze button. With a rush it all comes back to me. I'm in Mulder's apartment awaiting the news on the impromptu Memorial Day barbecue that consumed my building. I'm in Mulder's bed. I roll over onto my stomach, burying my face into a pillow that still smells of Mulder. Heaven help me, I can't help but wonder... no, this is so unproductive. The phone startles me out of my frivolous thoughts. Mulder picks it up in the living room after the first ring. I perch on the edge of his bed, my toes brushing the floor, and listen to the rumble of his voice. I've heard his voice before through countless thin motel walls, but this feels as familiar and intimate as standing before him in my pajamas did last night. Pulling my robe on, I move towards the door, opening it just as he raises his hand to knock. He steps back, running his hand through already sleep-tousled hair. "That was the Charles County sheriff on the phone. They want us to come out and take a look at a crime scene. A jogger this morning found a body in the middle of a field out there." "Why us?" "Apparently there was also a large crop circle in the field, the body was found in the middle of it." *&*&* There is a chill wind coming off the bay, belying the fact that today is going to be a scorcher. Scully is ahead of me as we follow Sheriff Mitchell through the tall grass. "We have a possible ID on the body," Mitchell calls over his shoulder. "She matches the description of a young woman reported missing on Saturday." My stomach turns, wondering if she's been lying in this field for the past three days. The grass parts ahead of us and we stumble into a clearing. The grass is beaten down, counterclockwise and Sheriff Mitchell cautions us to stay directly behind him since investigators are still spread out around the circle painstakingly searching the ground for evidence. In the center of the circle I can see that they have already bagged the body and are preparing to carry her out of the field. One man steps forward and introduces himself to us as Anthony Sinclair, one of the Commonwealth's medical examiners. "Dr. Scully," he says as he shakes her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, I attended a symposium a few years back where you were a guest speaker." Scully accepts the compliment, her eyes straying behind Sinclair to the body bag. Sinclair lets out a small sigh. "I know they called you two out here because there seemed to be a paranormal angle, but I'm afraid the cause of death on this one is all too human. She has petechial hemorrhaging and bruises on her larynx - I'd say strangulation. You're welcome to assist on the post-mortem, if you like." Scully doesn't reply for a moment, still watching as two of the investigators lift the body bag and begin to carry her away. The bag sways obscenely between them as they walk carefully past us, trying to stay on the designated trail. "Fine," she says and Sinclair gives a pleased nod. "I'll just meet up with you later, Mulder," she tells me as she brushes past me to follow Sinclair back to where our cars are parked. *&*&* The sunset is a blinding flash of reds and orange in the western sky when I finally leave the Medical Examiner's office. I get in my car, but I don't turn the engine. I sit, watching the sunset Sarah will never see. That was her name. Sarah Guralnik, age 23. Sarah left for work on Friday morning, but she never made it there. She was only stopping in to finish a project before she was to leave town with her boyfriend for the holiday. The autopsy revealed that she had likely been dead within a few hours of her disappearance. Whoever had killed her had literally kept her on ice until last night. Her core temperature had been too low to have been in the field all weekend. For some reason I can't stay detached from her, can't see her as just another body. Friday morning she woke up with a three-day weekend to look forward to, never guessing her lifespan could be calculated in mere hours, not years. She brushed her teeth, put on her make-up, got dressed - all for the last time. /We never know when we are going. We jest and shut the door. Fate following behind us shuts it and we accost no more./ Those words have haunted me all day. Sarah didn't know she was going until it was too late. How many times have I come close to death, only to cheat it once again? It doesn't seem fair. In fact, it seems downright frightening. How much time do I have left? How much time does my mother have left? My family? Mulder? There is an ache in my throat as tears catch there. I swallow hard, determined not to cry. Sarah has enough people to mourn her. I'm here to see that someone pays for stealing her life. I turn the car on and head towards Mulder's. *&*&* Tonight when she comes out of the bathroom Scully seems subdued. She hasn't looked directly at me since she got here. She came in, mumbled a greeting, grabbed a few things from the bedroom and locked herself in the bathroom. Now it looks like she means to skitter right past me and isolate herself in my bedroom. "Scully, have you eaten?" I ask, crossing the room to follow her. Scully pauses in my bedroom doorway and shrugs. "I'm not really hungry," she tells me. "Hey." I put my hand on her shoulder to let her know she can talk to me. "What's going on?" Scully shrugs again. "I don't...." She shakes her head and takes a deep breath. " This case, Mulder. For some reason I just..., I can't get past the waste of life." She leans back slightly against the pressure of my hand on her shoulder. "There are days when I don't remember why I chose to do this." "Because you're good at it," I tell her. "You're good at it and you give victims like Sarah a voice." Scully turns around and peers up at me, her eyes searching mine for something. Reasssurance? "You're just feeling vulnerable right now," I say, bending lower to clarify the point. "Your apartment is your safe place, your haven from all the crap we see and it's been violated. You have to stay here at my hovel. Any case we took was bound to affect you." After a few seconds' consideration Scully gives me a shaky smile and I grin back at her. "A hovel? You'd have to let those dishes in the sink go for a few more weeks," she says. I give her a another grin and she steps forward, circling my waist with her arms. "Thank you, Mulder," she murmurs against my shoulder. I'm not sure what she's thanking me for, but I pull her closer and whisper "You're welcome" in her hair. Neither of us moves, content to stay like this. Gradually the hug, at first comforting, turns into something more. I'm enjoying the sensation of simply holding her far more than I ought to. And then I realize this is it - she's let me into her heart again. A jolt of pure pleasure shoots through me. Nothing's moving downstairs, thank god, but holding her feels more possessive somehow. Scully doesn't stiffen in my arms, she's still relaxed, but I think she feels it. For a few heartbeats longer we sway together, pushing the boundaries of friendship into a different kind of familiarity. Then she gives a soft sigh and steps back to put space between us. "Good night, Mulder," she says with a quick glance upward as her arms drop away from my waist. "Good night." I want to kiss her forehead but I'm afraid I really will be overstepping my bounds if I do so. To my surprise she rises up on tiptoe and plants a soft peck on my cheek. I turn, meaning to catch her cheek but she moves her head and our lips brush instead. For a moment I'm too startled to even realize what happened. Scully steps back, her lips parting as her tongue darts out to lick the corner of her mouth. I blink hard as my mind races into hyperdrive - processing the phantom warmth of her body so recently pressed against mine with the image of her tongue in action. God help me. I've never wanted her more than I do right now. She glances up at me and I realize she's just as aroused. Her eyes widen but she makes no protest when I bend down to kiss her again. *&*&* End 1/2 === ******** "If I sit long enough it just comes to me." Phillip Padgett, 'Milagro' Is your mouse flabby and listless? Come work it out here http://alanna.net/sue ******** From: Suzanne Schramm Disclaimer, etc. in part 1. *&*&* It is with great reluctance that I move away from Mulder's embrace. I could stand here all night, my nose buried in his shirt, but I'm going to have to make do with his pillows instead. I need to get to bed before I begin talking, before all this emotion bubbles up to the surface. What if this is the last time I have the chance to hold him? To tell him that I care? I push the thought away. Mulder's right, I'm just feeling out-of-sorts because of the apartment fire. When our lips touch accidentally an alarm goes off in my brain. Too close! You're too close! When I glance up at him to gauge his reaction I'm shocked to see that his eyes are dilated. I have half a second to realize that we just stepped over the line before his hands tilt my head up and his lips close over mine. There is no soft brush, no introductory kiss, no warm up. His lips are gentle but insistent, drawing me further over the line. There is no hesitation in this kiss, no awkward moment as we try to work out whose head will tilt which way. Mulder knows exactly what he wants and his confidence is contagious. Maybe I should have eaten after all, I feel dizzy. I step back, gulping in air. Mulder doesn't let me go, his hands are still framing my face and he steps forward, pressing me against the door jamb. For several long minutes we stand there exchanging greedy kisses. Soft moans are coming from both of us as we touch and taste for the first time, seven years of longing combining to blot out all the arguments against this. I break the kiss, my calves aching from standing on tiptoe for so long, and lean my forehead against his chest. Mulder combs my hair back into a makeshift ponytail and I give a small sigh as cool air rushes across the back of my neck. *&*&* There is no sound in the room save the short gasps for air we are making as we stand in my bedroom doorway. Scully lifts her head and gives me a dazed smile that sets off a hum inside me. I smile back and she stretches up to kiss my cheek a second time. Then Scully settles against my chest again and I pull her closer, enjoying the moment. Those same breasts I was admiring from across the room 24 hours ago are now pressed against me. "Do I need to invite you in, Mulder?" Scully tilts her head back to look up at me, desire and mischief in her eyes. "You must not think much of my investigational skills if you think I believe that you don't sleep in that bed when I'm not here." I glance over her head at the bed in question. Only ten steps away, its proximity has been looming large in my imagination for the past few minutes. "Are you offering to take the couch tonight, Scully? 'Cause I think I might take you up on it this time. I miss my bed." Scully says nothing, her lips twitching with the effort of not smiling as I feign stupefaction. "Surely you're not suggesting we *share* the bed tonight, are you?" Scully lifts one eyebrow and I maintain what I hope is a chagrined expression. "I don't want you to get the wrong idea here, Scully," I tell her apologetically. "What idea would that be, Mulder?" Her brow furrows in confusion even as she shifts so that her hip brushes against my erection. Ah, Scully. Again. Just like that. I lean down and kiss her neck, delighting in the low moan she makes. "I've always held your investigational skills in the highest regard, Scully." I pull her closer and turn us so that I can walk her backwards into my room. "Highest regard?" she sighs into my ear as we shuffle closer to the bed. "Is this your way of telling me you'll still respect me in the morning?" We land on the bed with a soft "ooph" from Scully and a woosh from the mattress. "Will you still respect me, Scully?" I ask her, bending down to kiss the corner of her mouth. "Immensely," she assures me, her hands rising up to stroke over my cheeks. "You know I hold your investigational skills in the highest regard." I swallow hard and brush the hair back from her forehead. "Ever wondered what those skills are like up close and personal?" "Nope, never." "Scully, you're a lousy liar." She laughs, sending ripples out through the bed, and pulls my head down to kiss her. The kiss turns serious in a hurry, both of us aware that the time to hesitate is through. Tongues and teeth clash as we kiss, our bodies shifting against each other as our hands stroke slowly over arms and backs. My hand brushes against the side of her breast and she tosses restlessly beneath me. A little eager there, Scully? I brush my hand over her stomach and she sighs into our kiss. I've got her right where I want her. *&*&* My shirt has slid up and Mulder's hand encourages it to rise a little further. His fingers stroke over my skin, tracing a pattern of his own devising that causes gooseflesh to rise across my abdomen. He shifts lower on the bed causing us both to rise and fall as the mattress responds. My breath catches in anticipation. I can see us in the mirror and I tremble remembering my fantasy of the night before and how close I am to fulfilling it tonight. He flashes me a smile as he unfastens the bottom button on my pajama top. I smile back as the second button is freed. Mulder turns his gaze downward, eager to watch his handiwork as the remaining buttons are undone. He parts my top and the smile grows wider. One finger reaches out to trace the line of my collarbone before it detours to the south, circling but not touching my areola. "Tease," I whisper. "Only if you ask nice," he whispers, bending down to kiss my collarbone in an imitation of his earlier touch, his lips sliding softly across my skin before they, too, head south. I hold his head to me as his mouth closes over my nipple and tugs softly. I look up, in the mirror, and I can't help the moan as our reflection bobs on the ceiling. Even though I didn't ask, Mulder decides to tease anyway, his mouth leaving my breast to continue exploring. His nose bumps against the bottom of my ribcage and he brushes it back and forth, a caress that tickles and I jerk involuntarily. "Sorry," he whispers, his lips caressing my bare flesh. His fingers tug lightly on the side of my waistband to reveal the swell of my hip. I squirm again, impatient for more but he doesn't seem to be in much of a hurry. Mulder's tongue traces the edge of my belly button before he slowly kisses his way across my waist. His fingers are still curled on my hip, sliding the left side of my pajama bottoms down to expose more skin a millimeter at a time. His lips follow close behind, christening me with tiny kisses and licks. When he reaches the sensitive skin of my hip he pauses. I close my eyes, too overwhelmed to keep watching. My hands soothe over his head, yes, please, Mulder. This is ok. His tongue darts under the waistband and I bite my lip. This is more than ok. The unexpected scrape of his teeth undoes me. I am taken by surprise as my body lurches into action. The silence between us is broken by my choked sob of surprise. *&*&* Scully's cry sends a shudder through me. I had not thought she would be so sensitive - I haven't even really touched her yet. For a few seconds I am stunned, unable to believe that this has happened. A simple nibble on her hip and she comes for me. Any nervousness I felt before is gone now, she made me a demi-god when she bucked up beneath me. You liked that, did you, Scully? Wait until you see what else I plan to do to you. The pale skin of her midriff has a fine sheen of sweat on it now. I pull away from her slightly, rolling onto my side and watch her chest rise and fall. All she can manage are shallow pants, causing her breasts to quiver slightly. I place my hand over one to still it and then lean over, kissing her in the middle of her chest and she arches up beneath me, her taut nipple brushing against my cheek. I turn my head to give it the attention it deserves and Scully arches again, sending ripples through the bed's mattress. As I tease her nipple with my tongue I wonder what it is that makes a grown man fall in adoration to a woman's breasts. Is this some kind of Oedipus complex, a longing to return to the comfort and love of infancy? Whatever it is, I could spend hours here, nuzzling and licking. She tastes sweet and I find myself anticipating how she'll taste elsewhere. I miss the taste of her mouth so I work my way back towards it, giving her a deep lingering kiss. "I want to feel you against me," she whispers tugging at my shirt. I rise up, pulling it off and casting it hurriedly aside. For a moment I just stare, arrested by the sight of Scully, flushed and half-naked on my bed. "Come here," she says, pulling me down against her. We grin at each other at the contact. "More," she tells me and I hesitate, not wanting to crush her. She pulls harder and I oblige, resting more weight against her. "I need this," she whispers before kissing me again. Oh Scully, me too. The kiss starts out teasing but grows in intensity. As we kiss I continue to shape out the planes and curves that have titillated me for the past seven years. I squeeze her a little rougher than I meant to and she whimpers into my mouth. Just as I'm about to apologize she presses up against the hand which is now soothing her breast and I realize that she's giving me permission to let go, trusting me to let go for both of us. *&*&* Mulder's hands are no longer gentle. They have turned insistent, kneading my breasts, elongating my nipples between tight fingertips. There is an ache inside me, gathering strength as I fumble with the fly of his jeans. "Ah, Scully, yes," he groans. "I need that." I want to ask him what he needs, what he wants, but he's ahead of me, rolling onto his back as he unfastens his pants with shaky fingers. At least, I'm hoping they're shaking. It would only be fair. I get my first real glimpse of his erection, pressing tight against the denim of his jeans. Yes, my hands are definitely shaking as I reach to tug his jeans down. He kicks his legs to get rid of the jeans, churning up a storm on the waterbed and then turns his attention back to me. Once again his fingers pull on my pajama bottoms but this time they get all the way to my knees before he loses patience and cups me over my panties, his fingers confident enough to make me gasp. The heat of his hand against me is shocking, the sensation immobilizing me for a moment. Then his fingers move, nudging me gently. I try to move my legs further apart but they're pinned by my pajamas. I reach to push my pajamas down further and Mulder helps me before tugging eagerly at my panties, casting them away too. Naked. My god, I'm naked on Mulder's bed. The realization of this sends my heart knocking against my breastbone. Mulder draws his hand up my leg, over my hip to rest against my stomach. He bends to nuzzle my ear and I turn my head, needing to kiss him again. Our tongues stroke lazily over each other as his fingers move in a widening circle below my belly, flirting closer and closer to where I really want him. Then his hand stops, resting still against my thigh as he languorously explores my mouth. My right knee raises instinctively, opening myself to him, waiting. I don't have to wait long. He slides his hand to cup me once again, his fingers parting me, stroking slowly but just missing the tiny nerve center that's throbbing for him. Mulder continues to kiss me as one finger finds and traces the entrance to my body. I feel his lips curve in a smile against mine as that finger insinuates itself inside me. "Oh, that's good," I whisper as his lips leave mine to kiss my temple. "Yeah?" he whispers back, withdrawing and then returning with a second finger. "How about that?" "That," I gasp. "That's good too." Mulder pulls his face back a little, cataloging my reactions as he varies his strokes, slow and shallow, a little deeper, a little faster. It's too much, watching him watch me, and I close my eyes. Three fingers and my body clamps down in protest, in invitation. My eyes open and he bends to kiss my forehead. "How's that?" he whispers and I can only nod. Fine. That's just fine. He slides his fingers back and forth, establishing a slow rhythm. With every withdrawal his fingers curl, stretching me. His palm bumps against my clit as he pushes into me but he doesn't allow more than a second or two of contact. I'm so wet I can hear the squelch and woosh of every stroke. I arch up to catch him and he presses his fingers deeper. He kisses my nose as he slowly removes his fingers. There is a small smile on his face as he slides down my body using his hands to gently push my legs apart so he can settle between them. Mulder is going down on me. I think my heart stops. I can feel the slow cold drain of blood across my chest as his heated breath traces across me. "Mmmm," he hums as his lips brush against me, the vibrations of it singing along my nerves like a tuning fork hit at perfect pitch. Goosebumps rise up along my arms and my heart renews its frantic beating as his fingers slide back inside me. *&*&* I can smell her, smell the sweet musk of her arousal. I dart my tongue out, taking a quick sip and she tightens around my fingers, her hips rising off the bed in invitation. You don't have to ask me twice, I give her a long flat lick and she releases a shaky breath, trembling ever so slightly. She tastes sweet, tangy in a way no one else ever has. Absolutely delicious. I trace the ridges of her, occasionally dipping between for the nectar hidden within. She surges up, pressing herself against me. I back off, nipping her thigh softly. With a sigh Scully relaxes back into the bed and I go straight for the source this time. She tastes smokier the deeper I go and I lap it up, swallowing her essence and still longing for more. Scully moans something unintelligable, her hands plucking at my shoulders before she tries to twist away. "Your turn," she groans, twisting again. "I can't, please." I catch a glimpse of her face and realize she's in earnest. "I should've eaten," she says apologetically and we both laugh. "You owe me one, Scully." *&*&* May I be in his debt forever. "I won't forget," I tell him, pushing him over onto his back. I pull at the waist of his boxers and he raises his hips to facilitate. I slide his boxers off and then turn my attention back to the main attraction. My god, no wonder Diana is so bitchy. It's all mine now. I want to taste him, touch him, and tease him the way he has done to me but I don't think I can wait that long to feel him inside me. I encircle him with my hand, giving him a soft squeeze before sliding my hand down to the base of him and then back to the tip. I can feel the throb of his pulse as his hips follow the actions of my hand. I lean down, licking slowly around the head of him. Mulder groans and I lift my head to flash him a smile. "You're going to owe me too, Mulder." "Tease," he whispers. "Only if you ask nice." I wait, watching with delight as Mulder swallows hard and considers. "Don't tease," he gulps, his hands pulling me up. "I'll just owe you." The bed sways beneath us as I straddle him and I wonder if this is going to work. The world seems off kilter, held steady only by the weight of his hands on my hips. I shift to get my balance and Mulder's hands tighten, guiding me down. The world narrows to just this moment as the tip of him slides in and I decide this can definitely work. I push down against my body's initial resistance, welcoming the thick pressure that radiates up as he moves deeper. I rise up, using the friction to acclimate our bodies. Mulder lifts with his hands to help me and the bed bucks against us. At first it is tricky, pushing against the waves but then we catch one just right and I am riding Mulder in time to the motion of the bed. Up and down we sway, our rhythm set by the tide that has finally pulled us together. I want to start singing sea chanties as little pings of excitement race across my nerve endings. What shall we do with the drunken sailor, so ear-lie in the morning? Mulder's eyes catch my own and another ping shoots up my spine, white hot and exhilarating, as I see my own arousal reflected there. My god, how could I have missed the love in his eyes before? "Oh Scully," he murmurs and I know that he has not missed the love in mine. I'm grateful that he sees it, that I don't have to say anything. I will never have to worry that Mulder didn't know how I felt about him. Another ping sounds off, rippling through my arms and legs and I almost falter, pushing down harder instead as I fight the sudden shakiness in my limbs. "Oh yeah," he pants. "A little faster." I speed up and the bed grows choppy. "Like that?" "Ahhh," he groans. I'll take that as a yes. His hands slide up, caressing my breasts and then moving to my shoulders to pull me down close enough to give me a sloppy kiss. I straighten up and he tosses his head restlessly on the pillow. /ping/ My nerves are singing, I can feel the tug of arousal pulling me under. Not yet, he's so close. Mulder's jaw is slack, his eyes shut. I shut my own eyes, trying to concentrate. I can feel every ridge on his cock as it slides in and out. /ping, ping/ Not yet, not yet, not yet. I move even faster and Mulder makes a muffled drowning sound that sends sparks across the backs of my eyelids. "Not yet," I mumble. Mulder groans again, thrusting up sharply and breaking my rhythm. I yelp and open my eyes, bracing my arms against his shoulders for balance. Mulder's eyes are open and he's watching me with a hazy sort of hunger. /Ping/ My arms start to shake and I groan, "God, please...," as I begin moving against him again. A shudder rolls through me and my head flops back. I can see us in the mirror. Mulder is biting his lower lip as his entire body strains beneath me. I can see my own astonished expression as my overwhelmed senses beat out intellect. /PING! PING! PING!/ *&*&* Above me Scully wails and I think "Ha! Ray! Take that!". Her inner muscles tighten on me, firing off in rapid succession up and down my cock. Her orgasm rolls back and forth over me like the waves beneath us and I wonder for a second if I've finally found the cure for my seasickness. Then again... I sit up as Scully still shudders around me, fighting the waves to get to the edge of the bed. Once my feet are over the side I practically dive for the floor. We're both sweaty and slippery so by the time I get her on the floor I have to sacrifice being inside of her for getting a better grip. "Mulder, what are you... ohhhh," she wheezes as I set her down and then push home again. Now that we're on the floor I have leverage on my side and I can feel my cock bottom out against her cervix. She tilts her head back, giving me a soft moan and another ripple travels through her vagina to caress me. Her legs tuck up, allowing me all the way in. I give her a few more slow thrusts as we both adjust to the new position. The coordinates locked in, my body takes over, thrusting again and again into the sweetness I can still taste on my tongue. I close my eyes, concentrating on the tight feel of her around me. Scully lets out a low groan and I speed up a bit more. "Mulder," she whispers and I push harder, hard enough that it actually scoots her across the floor. Her legs tighten around me and I push hard again. We both let out a laugh as we move a couple more inches backwards but it feels so damn good I don't want to slow the pace. "Go for it," she tells me and I abandon all pretense of control, my groin thrumming with each drive into her. Scully stretches her arms out above her head until they meet up with the wall. With her bracing us there is more resistance to each thrust and I want to bellow my joy loud enough for Ray and Sylvia and Mrs. Zapotski to all share. I have to settle for a cross between a whimper and a groan. My lungs are on fire, my knees are aching but I can feel release just on the horizon. Beneath me Scully seems to have recovered from her earlier lethargy. She takes her hands from the wall, twisting so that her shoulder braces us as I continue to plunge into her. She reaches to grab my ass and squeezes my cheeks tight. When I groan her name she puts her feet flat on the floor, subtly changing the angle of penetration and pressing up against me on the downstroke. "Don't," I gasp, feeling the tingle start at the base of my spine. God, this is perfect. Don't move, Scully. This is it. I slow down, trying to prolong it, just for a second more. My balls, already pulled up tight against my body, feel the brush of her fingertips and I have a single millisecond to realize that I am about to come and come hard. Light and sound combine inside my head as I feel several hard pulses traveling from my balls to the tip of my cock, each one pulling a new incoherent confession out of me. After the last one passes I try to push off of her with shaky arms but she coos against my neck, telling me it's ok. Her hands soothe over my back, and through my hair, holding me to her as our breathing slows down. *&*&* For several minutes neither of us move. Mulder because he can't and me because I don't want to. I'm enjoying the weight of him against me. I don't think he understood that earlier when I pulled him down on top of me. There's something erotic about the weight of a man on top of you. Mulder snuffles against my cheek as he raises his head. "We should probably move this party back to the bed," he mumbles, rolling to the side. Without him covering me the room seems a lot cooler. My legs protest when I go to stand up and I realize that I *still* haven't eaten. Mulder practically staggers to the bed, collapsing onto the surface with a groan while I survey his floor. I don't know how he can just fall asleep, surely he feels nearly as sticky as I do. Picking up his t-shirt I give a quick wipe down to the mess between my legs. The scent of sex wafts up to me as I do so and it dawns on me that Mulder and I *really* did just have sex. Will wonders never cease? I look over at the bed, still roiling under Mulder's weight and take in the sight of his naked ass and shoulders. Surely it was divine intervention that my apartment burned down. Never let it be said that I don't make the best of a bad situation. "Scully?" Mulder slurs, raising his head and giving me a sleepy smile. "Come to bed." So I do. End 2/2 *&*&* Author's Notes: My apologies to everyone out there waiting for "Fidelity". Sometimes you have to write what the muse hands you. Abbreviated lyrics at the beginning were stolen from "Close To Me" by The Cure. === ******** "If I sit long enough it just comes to me." Phillip Padgett, 'Milagro' Is your mouse flabby and listless? Come work it out here http://alanna.net/sue ********