From: To: ; ; ; ; ; ; Subject: [XFNC17ff] NEW: The Meeting (1/1) by Lara Means Date: Wednesday, August 07, 2002 5:33 PM TITLE: The Meeting AUTHOR: Lara Means E-MAIL: LaraMeansXF@aol.com WEBSITE: http://larameansxf.tripod.com CLASSIFICATION: VR; MSR RATING: R for sexual situations ARCHIVE: NO to Gossamer, Spookys; I'll submit directly to both. YES to Ephemeral. YES to mailing list auto-archives. Anywhere else, please ASK. I'll say yes; I just like to know where the kids are at the end of the day. FEEDBACK: Please? DATE POSTED: 08/07/02 DISCLAIMER: I don't own them. Heck, I don't even own my name. It all belongs to 20th Century Fox. No infringement intended. SPOILERS: none SUMMARY: Daydreaming. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ THE MEETING written by Lara Means I have absolutely no idea what Skinner's saying right now. We've been sitting in this meeting for more than two hours. I know it has something to do with the budget for the next fiscal year, but beyond that... I tuned him and everybody else out a long time ago. All I'm aware of is my partner. Sitting across the table from me. Watching me. Blatantly, unapologetically watching me. I try not to notice. Or at least, I *pretend* not to notice. But it's tough. Whenever he catches my gaze, the flush starts. It creeps slowly over my chest, up my neck, until my cheeks are blazing. It doesn't matter how quickly I break our eye contact, that flush of arousal goes on forever. I think I've been successful in hiding it. I lean over and let my hair fall forward, become engrossed in whatever report whoever's speaking has referred to. Eventually the blush will subside. I only wish my thoughts were as easy to control. I can't stop thinking about him. About this morning. And last night. And yesterday afternoon. And every single time we've touched, kissed, made love. I close my eyes, barely aware of Skinner's droning voice, and remember this morning. We showered together, a rare indulgence on a work day. We're always late when we do that. But this morning, the temptation of his body behind the pebbled glass shower door was just too strong to resist. His back was to me when I opened the door -- he started to turn, but I wouldn't let him. I slipped my arms around him, pressed my naked flesh to his, felt him shiver at my touch... I took the soap from him and lathered up my hands, then replaced it in the dish. Then I skimmed my hands along his arms to his chest, my fingers swirling around his nipples, teasing them to tight little peaks, feeling mine harden as well. At his throaty moan I moved south, to where he wanted me, to where I wanted to be -- all the while keeping my body tightly molded to his from behind. I trailed my fingers through his wiry curls, then danced them along his hard length. His hips surged forward reflexively as I gripped him, then he reached out to steady himself against the shower wall. Breathing hard, he stilled his body and let me pump him, slowly at first. His arms began to tremble as I went faster and faster, both of us knowing his release was near. Finally, finally... he threw back his head and bellowed my name, evidence of his passion splashing the shower wall. I slowed my movements, milking every last drop from him, my other arm around him in a gentle embrace. After his breathing returned to normal, he turned in my arms and held me tight. Then he cupped my face in his hands and murmured, "Oh, Baby, what you do to me..." "Agent Scully? You have something to add?" Skinner. I blink, suddenly very aware of my surroundings -- but completely *un*aware of the last five minutes. I glance across the desk at my partner, and his cat-who-ate-the-canary grin tells me I just might've made a noise -- quite possibly a whimper. I try to affix my professional mask and look back at Skinner. "No, Sir," I tell him, noticing the slight tremor in my voice. He stares at me for a moment, then gives his head a tiny shake and returns to whatever he was talking about before. I shoot Mulder what I hope is a withering look, complete with Raised Eyebrow. But I know it's hopeless. I can't wait until this meeting is over. END ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ AUTHOR'S NOTE: When a member of the IWTB mailing list has a birthday, Char Chaffin writes a birthday fic for him or her. She's done at least 50 of these. So, for Char's birthday, several listmembers (led by the wonderful ga) wrote a birthday fic for her. The result is "Oooh, Baby," of which this story is a part. You can read the whole thing on Ephemeral. Char-baby, I'm proud to call you my friend. Happy birthday, sweetie.