TITLE: PASSWORD AUTHOR: donnilee@snet.net RATING: NC-17 (PARTS 1-3; RATED R) WARNING: Descriptive sex. Smut. Please, no one under 17. CATEGORY: MSR /ANGST POSTING: ANYWHERE - But Please make sure my name and e-mail address are on it and inform me by e- mail of the location. Thank you. SUMMARY: A computer password opens some doors heretofore closed between our dynamic duo. SPOILERS: Little spoiler here and there for almost everything. Never Again, Tooms, Fight the Future, Millenium, Cancer Arc DISCLAIMER: Nope. Not mine. Used shamelessly and without remorse, as I think that we fanfic writers do a better job with them anyway! But alas, they belong to Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen and Fox Studios, and god knows who else, but not me. Nobody's making any pennies in this household! PART 1 - PG-13 FOX MULDER'S APARTMENT WEDNESDAY EVENING 6:00 PM Dana Scully used her key to enter her partner's apartment. Mulder had been sent to consult on a serial rapist case in Atlanta, Georgia. There was no need for her to go, the autopsies were being taken care of, so she had stayed behind and tried to plow through the backlog of paperwork in the basement office of the Hoover Building. She'd gotten a lot done with Mulder gone. It was amazing how much better she could concentrate in that office when he wasn't around. Oh, it wasn't his fault he was total eye candy, but it was distracting. It wasn't his fault that her eyes would continuously stray to him when he was sitting there behind his desk. It wasn't his fault that she would become mesmerized by the sight of his tongue licking the salt from a sunflower seed, his teeth cracking the tiny shell and his lips and tongue deftly retrieving the tiny morsel of meat, as his lips pursed. Those pursed lips were a killer. It had become increasingly difficult to employ her protective denial in regard to the attraction that she felt for her partner. Her feelings for him seemed to surge up at inopportune moments lately. He'd been gone three days and this time, she wasn't even trying to avoid the feelings of displacement at his absence. She missed him dreadfully. He had called her Monday and Tuesday evening, just to talk and let her know how the case was going. He had not called her yet today but she knew he would, probably later. She looked forward to it. She counted on it. It was comforting just to hear his voice on the other end of the phone. She dropped some food into the fish tank and then stood looking around. She was being seized with an incredible urge to snoop. She was an investigator after all. She giggled at the lame justification. There was a tape sticking out of the VCR. The XXX on the border verified that it was one of the videos he didn't own. Wonder what it was? She'd never really bothered to look at the titles. I wonder what kind of women he likes to watch? Or if he doesn't care? Probably tall, leggy brunettes. Fowley bitch types. That was a very uncharitable thought, she knew, especially since the woman was dead and no longer competition. Competition? But she couldn't help thinking of her as "the bitch" to this day. She'd never trusted her. When she realized how much she'd hurt Mulder, she hated her. When she discovered her duplicity, she had loathed her. Without thinking, she grabbed the end of the tape and removed it from the VCR, flipping it up to read the title. She gasped at the title, "Fiesty, Firey Redheads." She froze as she took in the implications of this tape. Redheads? Did he like redheads? Or just her? No, he liked brunettes. Didn't he? The thought that he was as attracted to her as she was to him made her suddenly flush. He was so quick with the innuendo but she figured that was his way of flustering her and keeping her on her guard, to see if she could play with the boys. It seemed to amuse him to no end. Maybe that wasn't what it as all about after all. Maybe his innuendo was not about his personal amusement. She dropped the tape and it crashed to the floor as her cell phone rang and startled her guiltily out of her reverie. Her heart was still pounding against her rib cage as she fumbled in her trench coat for her phone. She hit the "Talk" button. "Scully." "Scully, you O.K.?" Mulder concerned voice rumbled into her ear. "Yeah, Mulder, Hi." "You sound winded." "Phone just startled me." "Oh, O.K. Look, I need your help again. It's a big favor but could you go to my apartment and call me from there?" "I'm actually in your apartment as we speak." "You're in my apartment?" "Is there an echo in here?" she teased. He chuckled. "How come? Not that I mind. You're right where I want you." "For someone with your memory, you're hopeless, Mulder. What do I always do when you are out of town without me?" "Oh yeah, you're feeding my fish. And they thank you by the way. Poor little buggers don't stand a chance without you." "Yes, I'm feeding the fish and what do you mean 'right where I want you'?" "I need you to get me something off my computer. I see some similarities down here to another case I worked on in 1996." "O.K., hold on." They were silent while she sat at his desk and booted up the computer. She typed in the password, 'TrustNo1', and waited. She was surprised when an error message popped up. . "Mulder, you changed your password? I just put in TrustNo1 and it's telling me its incorrect. Do you spell out the '1' now or something?" She couldn't be sure but she thought she heard him mutter, "Oh, shit, I forgot," under his breath. "What was that?" "Uh, look Scully, maybe I don't need this old profile right now. I can get Frohike to fax it to me. He's got all of my stuff backed up on Colorado Tape back up. I'll just call him. Thanks anyway." "Mulder, what's the matter?" "Nothing, I just don't need to bother you with this right now, it's not urgent." "You don't want to give me your password, do you?" She knew she sounded hurt but she couldn't help it. She thought he trusted her. He always said that he trusted her, but when it came down to it, maybe he didn't. "It's not that Scully, not exactly, not the way you mean." "You don't trust me with your password? I figured out the old one so you changed it?" "That's not why I changed it." "Then why?" "I change it every month, like clockwork. I'm paranoid, remember?" His chuckle sounded forced as he tried to put himself down with humor to evade the issue. Nice try, Mulder. He was avoiding her question. Well he wasn't going to get away with it. Not this time. "Mulder, do you trust me or not?" "Of course I trust you. How could you think that I don't? This has nothing to do with trust." "This has everything to do with trust, Mulder! If you trust me, you'll give me the damn password and let me help you!" She was practically shouting now and knew she sounded like a shrew. Silence. Then quietly, "Scully, I don't want to tell you because it will embarrass me, not because I don't trust you. And you are the last person on earth I want to be embarrassed in front of because you're the only one that I lo... I give a damn what you think, Scully." She let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding and suppressed the urge to laugh. He was embarrassed? What the hell was this password anyway? "What Mulder? Is it something obscene? I promise not to be offended." Silence. "Mulder, come on." "Scully, I ..." "Just tell me, Mulder, How bad can it be?" "Really, really bad." Now it was her turn to be silent. Did she want to push it? She was relieved that he wasn't holding back because of lack of trust. But what could be that embarrassing? His dick size? That would be interesting. She almost giggled at the thought but tamped it down in light of his obvious agitation. "Mulder, what if I promise to have absolutely no reaction and never to mention it." "Can you promise not to take it the ... wrong way?" "The wrong way? I don't even know what we are talking about here!" There was a heavy sigh on the other end of the phone. "Mulder ... please," she asked softly. "O.K., remember, you were warned." He paused. "Here goes. Initial caps, no spaces, O.K.?" "Yeah. O.K. What is it?" "SexyRedHead," he whispered. Despite her promise not to react, she gasped right into the mouth piece of the phone. Holy Shit! She was instantly breathing shallow. She shook her head, remembering her promise. Her hands shook as she clumsily typed 'SexyRedHead' into the window. She had to say something. Her voice came out as a whisper, all she could manage right now as the implications of the tape and now this whirled through her head. "O.K., Mulder. I'm in, what's the name of the folder?" She couldn't be sure but she thought she him sniffle like he was ready to cry. Her urge to comfort him and lessen his embarrassment allowed her to find her voice. In a firm voice, she said, "Mulder, it's O.K. What's the name of the folder?" She decided to try a little joke, "Christ, you've a got a list a mile long and a foot deep here!" His voice was still soft and slightly muffled, "Folder is VCS96." She scrolled down and clicked on the folder and saw a row of files appear. The files names were nothing but numbers, no names. My God, he had them logged by Case Number! What must it be like to have a photographic memory? "I'm in." Her voice was stronger now. "Open up 072996." She clicked. "Done." "Can you print it out and fax it to me at this number?" "Yeah." She set it to print and grabbed a pen from the coffee mug on the desk and a post it note. "Shoot, what's the fax number?" "1-877-567-0024." "I'll send it right away, O.K.? Are you at the fax now?" "It's on the other side of the room. I'm in the Atlanta Field Office. I'll go over there and wait for it." "Do you want to stay on the line until it comes through?" "No, that's O.K. I'll call if I don't get it all." He still sounded weird. He was anxious to hang up. He was obviously still embarrassed. "O.K. And Mulder? "Scully, I'm sorry if ..." She cut him off. "I assume you are referring to me in this password or it wouldn't have embarrassed you." She was forgetting her promise not to mention it. "Yeah, I am. Look, I shouldn't have ..." Her voice was back to breathy again. "Do you really think I'm sexy?" Her surprise was evident in her voice. He was silent a moment and then he murmured into the phone. "Scully, you're the sexiest woman I've ever known." "Mulder?" "Hmm?" "I'm glad you think so." Her voice was low but even now. "You are?" His voice actually cracked. How cute! "Yeah, 'cause ... um..." "Cause why, Scully?" Now or never Dana! "'Cause I think you're incredibly damn sexy yourself." This time she did hear his mumble, "Holy Shit." She smiled, waiting. She loved to take him off guard. Would he continue this tease? "Scully?" His voice had dropped at least an octave and it sent a shiver down her spine. She was sure she'd never quite heard that tone before, although she'd heard something close to it on the phone late at night and remembered how sexy it sounded. Now she was sure it was the voice of desire. She shivered a little. "What Mulder?" "Fax this profile to me. Hang up. Open the 'Journal' folder on my computer. Under that there are entries by date." She was scrolling through as he spoke looking for the folder. Her heart was beating a little faster. What was he going to tell her to do. "Open the last entry and read it. I wrote it the day before I left for Atlanta." "OhKaay." What was this all about. He wanted her to read a private journal entry? "Scully, I'm taking the biggest chance of my life. I'm going to trust you with something I've never trusted anyone else with. And I'm going to trust you to still be there for me when I get back on Saturday." "Still be here? What are you talking about? Of course I'll still be here." "I hope so." "You're scaring me." "Don't be scared. I'm the only one that needs to be scared." "Why are you scared?" "You'll see. Just read it. I'll call you when I get back on Saturday. You said I didn't trust you. Well, I'll prove that I do." "Mulder, you don't need to do this. I shouldn't have assumed ..." "Later Scully, thanks for the fax." "Mulder, WAIT!" He didn't hang up. "What?" "What are you trusting me with?" There was a long pause and then he just said, "Me." And he hung up. ** Dana stared at the phone for a few seconds and then grabbed the 5 page profile out of the printer and placed it in the fax machine on the other side of the desk, punching in the phone number he'd given her. She watched until the display confirmed that it had been sent. She went back to sit in front of the computer, suddenly apprehensive. She felt like she was invading his privacy. His journal. What the hell was going on here? What was he trusting her with? Was it something horrible he'd done in the past that she wouldn't approve of? Or was it something recent? Her mind started to take flight with all the possibilities. Had he been compromised by one of their enemies? It must be serious if he was afraid she wouldn't talk to him about it. Serious is he thought she would leave him over it. She'd questioned his trust in her and now he felt like he had to prove it. She felt guilty for thinking he didn't trust her. She felt guilty for automatically assuming that had been the problem. He was trusting her with "Me," he said. Well, in for a penny, in for a pound, she thought and clicked on the folder after closing out the profile. The last file was indeed a six digit date from three days ago. She hesitated and then opened the file and began to read. PART 2 - R FOX MULDER'S APARTMENT WEDNESDAY EVENING 7:00 PM JOURNAL ENTRY 042300 Where the hell is it written that I should end up this way? Who decided that I would come to this point, utterly alone, obsessed with a quest that would probably never be completed. Here I am, riddled with mysteries and puzzles and questions that will probably never be answered. That is where I was at so long ago and where I am today, but some things have changed. I am considered a complete nut job by most of my colleagues despite my genius I.Q. and previous accomplishments in VCS as a criminal profiler. Because of an overwhelming obsession to figure out what happened to my sister 27 years ago, I am considered off my rocker, unstable, weird ... spooky. Spooky because I believe in the paranormal. Spooky because I believe in the existence of intelligent life on other planets. I had become so depressed and so cynical that it was truly amazing anyone could stand my company anymore. I was resigned to a life of shadows and lonliness. Then, the impossible happened. It was seven years ago that a 5'2" redhead with a medical degree, a skeptical attitude and a badge walked into my office with a mission. A mission to debunk my work. Not only was she sporting a rigid belief in science, a logical mind that would frighten anyone off their game, but she had a faith, or at least, she claimed to be raised a Catholic. What did this mean for me and my life? Well, certainly not at all what I expected it would mean at the time. She has been through hell and back with me. We have both lost our idealism and our childish belief in real justice. We are both scarred, weary, but still determined to find the truth. I thought she would be the end of my career. She represented end of my search for my sister and the end of my quest for the truth. Instead, she has become my life. She is interwoven so completely into the fabric of my being that I literally cannot function without her. She has become by best friend, and so much more. She is to me as breathing is to survival. Without her, I cannot think properly. Without her, I cannot go on. And most importantly, without her, there is no love in my life, no comfort. She is the light to my dark. She is the love to my hate. She is caution to my recklessness. She balances me in every way. She is the only woman I have ever loved. I had thought I loved before, but I was wrong. I didn't know what love was, not really. She is the only woman that I have ever been IN LOVE with. And I know in my heart, the only woman I will ever love in this lifetime. So then, Mr. Psychologist Extraordinnaire, why can't you tell her what she means to you? FEAR. Plain and simple. Fear that she does not love me in return. Fear of seeing her walk out of my life, unable to work with me knowing how I feel. Fear of seeing pity in her eyes instead of desire. That would be the worst. It's so typical of me. So Mulder. I go and fall in love with the one woman on the planet I can't have, can't touch. Yes, I have fallen completely in love with my partner. My feelings are a paradox. I love her, I lust after her body, I respect her. But I love her mind, her capacity for compassion and forgiveness. She has forgiven me more incidents of bad form than I care to remember. I love her for her dedication to the truth and her willingness to believe in me even when she doesn't agree with me. But most of all, I love her for staying with me when I have given her thousands of reasons to run screaming for the hills. She stays. Why? Does her integrity refuse to let her give up in the search for the truth? Does she feel she has to keep up with me and stay to prove something? She's never had anything to prove to me. Or is it that she stays because she has feelings for me that reach beyond the boundaries of friendship? I can only pray that she does. And I can only pray that someday, somehow, I find a way to tell her. I need to find the courage because pining away for her is beginning to eat me up from the inside out. Longing to touch her day in and day out. Despite our friendship, being afraid that if I touch her, she will scream inappropriate professional behavior or sexual harassment. I long to touch her and show her how much I love her. It is driving me stark raving mad. Some would say that stark raving mad is not a long trip for me. They would be wrong. My diminutive, but incredibly strong partner has restored my sanity, my logic, my motivation for the work we do. She wrenched my sorry obsessed ass away from the abyss of total self absorption, away from the cliff edge of craziness. She reintroduced me to the real world and what was going on around me. A place where there are things besides conspiracies and lies and quests and obsessions. We still labor away in the basement of the Hoover Building and have seen so much darkness, but I do see sunshine now. I see sunshine because she is with me. Her smile can melt my heart. Her laughter brings me joy. Her tease can tighten my chest to the point where I can't breath. Her beauty soothes my eyes that have seen way too much ugliness. When she is with me my curse of an eidetic memory can forget the horrors I've seen and find soothing relief. Her trust crawled under my skin and spoke to my soul. She is my other half. She makes me whole, complete. She is my touchstone, my reality and my soul mate. I meant everything I've ever said to her. I meant what I said after Diana's death. I meant what I said before that stupid bee stung her. I meant what I said after being yanked from the freezing water of the Burmuda Triangle. I am blessed and damned at the same time, because I love her with everything I am. So, boy genius, what to do? What to do? I can profile serial killers, chase aliens, battle flukemen, zombies and liver eating mutants without losing my head. But I am a total wuss, frozen with fear when faced with the prospect of being rejected by a short little redhead with a temper, the woman I love. Can I find the courage to take the risk and tell her how I feel? My experience tells me that someone as "together" as her could never love a fuck-up like me. My self esteem tells me I don't deserve her. My track record says I could never capture her heart. I don't deserve her as a friend, let alone a lover. But since when have I ever been concerned with what I deserve? Why now suddenly do I care whether I am getting the better end of the deal. Because I love her, that's why and I want what is best for her. And I am definitely NOT what's best for her. But she would tell me, with her infinite compassion that it is not my choice to make - not my decision what is best for her, that I am not her mother. And even her mother won't try to tell her what is best for her anymore. There is so much at stake. I need her, like food. Melissa what's-her- name may be my soul mate in the next life, although I don't even believe that anymore. I wanted to at the time. But I feel in my heart that Scully is my soul mate in this one, this life. I can only hope that at the moment of truth, she will feel it in her soul as I do. Hope that she will recognize the ethereal tether that binds us together like pieces of a puzzle. I can't hide this anymore. It is only a matter of time before I slip and say or do something that gives me away. How many times has she asked, truly puzzled, "Why are you acting this way, Mulder?" And how many times have I been a hair's breath away from screaming into her face, "Don't you get it? Because I'm in love with you!" Or worse, I may explode with jealousy or protectiveness and drive her away. This WILL manifest itself somewhere, sometime. The psychologist in me knows this to be true. I have to tell her before that happens. But how do I tell her that's it's O.K. if she doesn't feel the same way? Nothing would have to change, except her awareness of my feelings. She would not believe me. This way, she would understand many of my reactions around her that are a mystery to her now. They are a mystery because she doesn't know how I feel, and therefore, my reactions make no sense, seem unreasonably possessive and commanding. Although, you would think that she would catch on. I sometimes marvel at her capacity for denial. Denial for the things she has seen, denial for all things paranormal, but mostly, denial about my feelings for her. She must feel it, the vibes from me. She is so smart and perceptive in other ways. But part of her charm is that she is refreshingly and blissfully unaware of her beauty, her sex appeal, the lure of her mind and compassion and loving nature. My possessiveness almost drove her away when I sent her to Philadelphia. I had taken her for granted. She let me know in stark and painful terms that I had no control over her. That her life was her own, was obvious upon her return. And in case I had any doubt of how little hold I had over her, she told me straight out that not everything was about me. I was yanked quite gracelessly from my self-centeredness by her words. The world does not revolve around me, definitely not. There may be a God, but I'm not It! And I felt the knife in my heart twist again. And I bled. Emotionally, I bled anguish at my insignificance in her life. I wanted to be involved in everything she did. Still do. But that's pretty ridiculous, isn't it? Physically I shed tears of remorse for taking her friendship, partnership and obedience to my wishes for granted. And my heart, well, my heart shattered into a million pieces at the knowledge that a stranger, a crazy stranger had been able to touch her. A stranger had more appeal as a mate than I did. A stranger had enjoyed her body, had sex with her. And it must have been just sex. He didn't know her well enough to make love to her. Given the chance, I would --make love-- to her. I would worship her body with respect and reverence and express my love for her in the ultimate way; physical union of our bodies as merely an extension and expression of what I feel for her. I dream of all the ways I would love to make love to her. Hot and passionate. Soft and slow. Hard and fast. I think those soft, full lips would be warm and wet. I think her skin would be warm and silky. I think her sex would be wet and tight. I think. I think. I think. I wonder. I fantasize. I dream. I would love to find out for real. I long to find out the answers to all the questions that swirl in my mind about her body. I long to find out the answers to all the questions that swirl in my mind about what goes on in that pretty head of hers when she looks at me. But this isn't just about sex, although I do burn for her. I want the whole enchilada. I want to wake up next to her every day and go to sleep next to her every night. I want to make her breakfast in bed and share the holidays. I want to take her to dinner and the movies and buy her jewelry. I want to share our fears and joys. I want to have a home with her, raise children with her and grow old with her. I know she can't have children, another thing I took away from her, but I have dreams where we adopt and raise two kids and do a better job than my folks ever did. I need to give my eyes a rest now. I will lay on my cold couch alone. I will close my eyes and I will fantasize again. She is so vivid to me, so etched in my mind's eye, that I will imagine her flushed face. I will see what I think she would look like aroused. I will touch myself and pretend it's her tiny hand on me. I will bring myself to yet another nightly orgasm with her name on my lips. And afterwards, I will fall asleep, my fantasy ultimately leaving me empty and alone. Again. ** Tears were streaming down her face as she finished reading. Despite her tears, her body had reacted to his words about making love to her. Her nipples were hard and her sex was throbbing, hot and wet. His words had evoked images she rarely let see the light of day. Images that came out to play only in the wee hours of the morning when she couldn't sleep and would masturbate to relieve her tension. She could always sleep after a good orgasm. Mulder always appeared in those masturbatory fantasies. Oh God! He thought she had slept with Ed Jerse! She didn't. She couldn't. She wanted Ed to be Mulder, despite her anger at his commanding attitude. So why had she let Mulder think she had slept with Ed? She simply hadn't denied it. The truth was she had wanted to hurt him back. Hurt him for hurting her. She wanted to hurt him for taking her for granted and not wanting her. How childish. She had wanted him to be jealous. She wanted to know that her hold on him was as strong as the one he held over her. She couldn't stay mad at Mulder. He didn't know that. His positive qualities far outweighed his negative ones. She admired his dedication, his willingness to act on a hunch, his fearlessness in the face of impossible odds. He was her rock. He was a tower of strength and belief that he didn't ever give himself credit for. How many times would she have given in to fear without his strength and determination to guide her? How many times would she have curled up into a ball and given up if he hadn't wrapped his strong arms around her and made her feel safe. After the Phaster case, after Melissa's death, during her cancer scare; these were all glaring examples of this. He had been there for her, never wavering. And lest we forget, he traveled across half the world, battled inhuman creatures and nearly froze to death to save her from a fate worse than death. She had wondered then at the efforts he expended to give her the antidote, to save her. This went above and beyond the call of duty to a partner. She had tried to deny what she saw. For months she tried to come up with an explanation that would suit her guidelines of reality. But in the end, she had to give a little, like she did with so many things where he was concerned. She no longer recognized the thinking boundaries she'd once held sacred. Mulder had blurred them all and erased her life where things were black and white with no gray matter. No, now there was a lot of gray matter, not to mention little gray men! She had to admit that at the very least, she'd seen something spectacular, something she couldn't begin to explain. So, what do? Was that his question? She knew no man had ever rocked her world like Mulder had. No man would ever be as intriguing or as stimulating to her psyche like he was. Certainly she didn't find anyone as attractive, as ... sexy. She loved him. She really did. The answer was so simple and there staring her in the face all this time. Time to 86 the denial trip. Her father once told her that trust was the most important thing in a relationship. More important even than love. He said that you could love someone more than anything in the world, but if you couldn't trust them, it would never work. That suspicion and lack of trust would drive a wedge in the relationship and erode the love because without trust, love was conditional instead of unconditional. Well, trust was one thing that Mulder and she had in abundance. Friendship, partnership, trust, compassion, strength, comfort, safety and belief in each other all added up to ... love. Yes, she'd found all things in her partner. The Bureau frowned on relationships between partners but they didn't prohibit it unless you conducted your "involvement" or 'fraternized" on Bureau time. She knew this but had used the precautionary sexual harassment rule as a shield on more than one occasion to protect herself. Protect herself from what? Compassion, safety, love. Why should she need protection from these things? All these things Mulder brought to her life. Mulder wa forever trying to protect her. She was always tellinghim that she didn't need his protection from anything or anyone. But what about her own warped thinking. No, she had been protecting herself from her own feelings. The enormity of them had frightened her, she realized now. She was afraid of losing herself in him. Needing anyone was foreign to her. The very idea grated against her staunch independence and professionalism she had perfected to compete in a good old boy network. She had thought that loving someone and needing someone that much would smother you. Couldn't feelings that intense make you lose your identity? She realized now that this notion was foolish. Mulder's love had made her strong, capable, equal. He had pushed her to realize her potential, to push her boundaries intellectually and emotionally. He had pushed the envelope of her bravery. She realized now that she and Mulder were both better people, stronger people all around for having known each other, tested and trusted each other, pushed and challenged each other ... and they had saved each other, literally. Also, though, they saved each other figuratively and emotionally from self-absorption and a life of loneliness and craggy solitude they had carved out for themselves. But they were both still lonely because they were denying each other the comfort of each other beyond the mental gymnastics they employed with one another. They hid from each other emotionally and physically. Why? As he said, FEAR. Their love for each other had set them free to be themselves. Because of that trust and love, they could act without fear of losing respect from each other, or losing the friendship or their partnership. They could test their boundaries and know the other had their back. They would always support each other, in the field as well as emotionally. Emotionally only though when the chips were down. They had to learn to share the emotional stuff in good times too and what was in their hearts and share that too. Their dependence on each other could be a freeing experience if they let it be. It was in some ways already. Liberty from dependence on unconditional love was a strange paradox. But she finally understood it. Her mother had tried to explain it to her once. She tried to explain how liberty came from true love. How you were removed from worry about your image and impressing others and it made you strong in your convictions. How it made you stronger and able to be your best and yourself in every area of your life, without the fear of a future loss to hold you back. Frankly, she had thought her mother was full of shit. She'd figured her little lecture as the rantings of a woman who wanted grandchildren and saw her opportunities passing by despite having four children. Her mother had stopped bugging her about finding a man when Bill and Tara finally had a child. Or was it when she started to become fond of Mulder? Did her mother see something see had missed and ignored all these years? Well, she was admitting and finally accepting that she loved her partner now. And the confirmation that he loved her too gave her a little thrill of anticipation and courage to face her fear. So Mulder had taken the biggest chance of his life, had he? Is that how he saw revealing his feelings to her? He was trusting her with his feelings. That was not an easy thing for him to do. Not easy for her either, she understood that about him. They had both been hurt so many times. He was trusting her with his heart and trusting her not to break it by walking away. She said out loud, "Mulder, I'm going to be worthy of your trust. I know you will be worthy of mine. I have some planning to do." She closed down the computer as a wicked smile appeared on her face. She stood and headed for the door. PART 3 - NC-17 ARLINGTON, VIRGINIA SATURDAY - NOON TIME Fox Mulder was tired. He had spent a long week getting inside the head of a man who got off on torture. Regardless of how disturbing that exercise was, he should probably consult a little more frequently. He always left these cases disgusted at the human capacity for evil. But at the same time, they left him feeling incredibly normal and sane. That was an unusual feeling for him and he liked it. He wanted what everybody wanted in the end; food, shelter, love of a good woman, normal sex life. All pretty regular stuff. He stared out the window of the cab as it's driver played chicken with half the traffic in Arlington, but he barely noticed. All he could think about was Scully. He had called her Thursday night and left a message on her machine. He had called last night and it had been brief. She had said she was headed out for dinner with her mother. He was afraid she was avoiding talking to him and he was scared that he'd done something really stupid. He had managed to ask her if she'd read the entry. Her only reply had been, "Yes, and we'll talk when you get home." He had told her he was expecting to be home by noon on Saturday and it was already quarter after. She said that she would be in touch with him when he got home. ** FOX MULDER'S APARTMENT SATURDAY, 12:30 PM He tiredly slid his key into the lock and pushed the door open with his shoulder, muscling his bag and briefcase into the doorway and dropping them on the floor. He grabbed his keys and kicked the door shut. A heavy sigh escaped before he looked up and gasped. The place was clean. The place had obviously been dusted and vacuumed. He wandered into the kitchen and noted that the dirty dishes he had left were no longer gracing the sink. Wanting a drink, he went to the fridge and raised his eyebrows into the opened door. It was full of stuff. There was chicken marinating in a 13 X 9 pan, mashed potatoes in a pot with celephane on top and a bowl of mixed vegetables. A fresh gallon of milk and two quarts of orange juice and a bottle of Chardonnay. He hadn't bought any of this stuff and he rarely cooked. He could only assume that the Scully fairy had come and left these offerings. He smiled. He grabbed the O.J. carton and drank straight out of it, knowing that would irk Scully if she saw him do it. He sighed and made his way back into the living room, sitting on the couch, O.J. carton in hand. His magazines were stacked neatly on the coffee table and a note was laying beside them. Mulder, I know you've had a hard week, so I want you to relax. I got you a tape to watch. Sit back and relax. Enjoy. Well, that was weird. He looked up at the VCR and noticed a tape sticking out. He pulled the tape out and found it to be a new tape, no label and it was rewound. This should be interesting. He was intrigued now. He stuck it in and retrieved the remote, turning on the T.V. and hitting play. He removed his coat and threw it over the arm of the chair, kicking off his sneakers and reclined. He had dressed in a sweatshirt and old loose jeans for the ride home. He was comfy. The static of the beginning of the tape ended and a scene appeared. Good god, it was Scully's bedroom! He'd only been in there a couple of times but he recognized it right away. He sat up, giving the tape his full attention. She appeared on the screen, not looking at the camera, and wearing silk pajamas of a deep royal blue. She crawled onto her back and lay back against the pillows and sighed. One arm was flung to the side of her head, resting on the pillow. The other lay idly on her stomach. She closed her eyes and her hand began to move, making slow circles around her stomach, moving the silk over her skin. Was this what he thought it was? He was already breathing ragged at the thought. Sure enough, her hand finally made it's way up to her breast, cupping herself and dragging a thumb over her nipple. He could see it harden as she hummed low in her throat, Her other hand came down to pay attention to the other breast and she squeezed her globes and pinched her nipples, beginning to moan. Her eyes were still closed. She rubbed the silk over her breasts with the flat of her hands. God, that must feel good, he thought. She opened her eyes to peer down at herself and begin unbuttoning the top of her pajamas. Slowly, one button at a time, she revealed a strip of white skin down the center of her body. Mulder was frozen now with anticipation. Her hands swept over her belly and then pulled the sides of the shirt apart, exposing her stomach and her breasts in all their glory. He muttered, "Sweet Jesus, Scully, you're so beautiful." She still hadn't said anything and he didn't really expect her to. How far would this go? Was this just a little peep show? He was hard as a rock already and straining against the zipper of his jeans. He stood abruptly, eyes never leaving the screen as he watched her tease herself, wetting her fingers in her mouth and rolling her nipples again with wet fingers. My name! She said my name! He yanked his jeans and boxers down, tossing them to the floor with his socks. He sat and leaned back onto the couch. What the hell? He crossed his arms over the hem of his sweatshirt and yanked it over his head. He reclined on the couch, completely naked now. He watched with rapt attention as the lit candle on her nightstand flickered shadows over her skin. She lifted her hips off the bed suddenly and pulled her bottoms down her legs, tossing them away and lay back wearing just the top, spread open behind her. Her fingers teased her curls at the apex of her thighs, scratching lightly. Her legs fell open and she raised her knees, showing everything. Yup, she was a real redhead! Her lips were coral pink and swollen. Beautiful. She was obviously taking her time. Out loud he whispered, "Oh God, is this really happening?" This was not the reaction he would have expected from his partner. He was anticipating an hours long conversation about everything that could possibly go wrong were they to get involved. He thought she would be scared away, or indignant, or full of "what ifs". But this, THIS he did not expect. She had obviously been turned on and decided to do something about it. The time date at the bottom of the screen indicated that this had been made Wednesday evening around 9:00 PM, shortly after she would have read the entry he asked her to read. This was the result. And she had left it for him. And she was thinking of him, saying his name. He gulped hard as her index finger wandered into the crack of her folds and rubbed lightly back and forth. Her voice sighed out, 'Oh God.' His hand sought out his throbbing erection and he grasped it, giving it a squeeze to ease the pressure, not stroking. He wanted this to last. Her voice drifted out of the screen again. He started and yanked his hand away, foolishly looking around the room as if she were there speaking to him. Christ, she'd known the exact moment when he it would become too much and he would want to touch himself. She tilted her hips up and spread her pink folds delicately with the edge of her fingers and displayed them. She whispered, "I'll tell you when." Still kneading one breast, her other hand between her legs, she slipped her middle finger inside, glided out, pulling her juices up to spread the wetness around her bundle of nerves. At the contact of her finger, she groaned. Mulder's head was spinning with arousal. He was going to have to touch himself soon. A bomb could have one off and he would not have removed his eyes from the screen. She was gorgeous, every inch of her. Her hair was splayed out behind her on the pillow like a fiery halo. Her lips were wet from licking and her chest rose off the bed into her hand as she began to pleasure herself, sliding one then two fingers in and out of herself. Each pass, she swiped her fingers over her clit and her hips would lift off the bed. She suddenly sat up, removed her top and flung it to the floor, flipping over onto her stomach and stuffing a pillow under her hips. Her beautiful little derriere was sticking up into the air. He could see her tatoo, so "un-Scully-like" on her lower back, but sexy at the same time because it was a hint of the wildness under all that reserve and control. She leaned her weight on her shoulders, head to the side and pushed both arms between her spread legs. One hand began plunging two fingers inside her while the other furiously slid back and forth over her clit. Her grunts and groans were almost his undoing. Mulder's hands gripped the back and cushion of the couch in a death grip as he began to pant with her. He was throbbing at full mast, his shaft beginning to ache from being hard with no relief. A loud groan escaped him as he said out loud, "I could come just watching you. Oh god have mercy." His hips undulated on the cool leather of the couch. He had to move. This was unbearable. She was whimpering and hooting now. Between whimpers and pants, she choked out, "Now, Mulder ... now ... make yourself ... come for me." Both hands dove between his legs, one grabbing his shaft and pumping fast and furious. The other cradled his sac and lifted his balls up against his shaft to feel the pumping action. She was close. He no sooner had that thought when she came. His eyes went wide as she flipped onto her back, legs spread, head back and hands still working. Her beautiful neck was displayed. He could see her rapid pulse. Her hips bucked and a wave rolled through her torso. He could she her legs shaking, a red flush rising up her chest. Her nipples were hardening even further, making the faint blue veins show near her areola. And then, the best part, she screamed. She screamed HIS NAME! "Oh, FUCK, MUULLDDEERR, YES, YES YES OHGOD!" At her shout, he erupted, a pitifully short time after beginning to stroke himself. His balls clenched and he spurted cum into the air as wave after wave of pleasure hit him. He collapsed onto the couch, cum dotting his chest, panting hard and still watching her body, now a boneless heap on the sheets. When her breathing returned to normal, she looked at the screen directly for the time since her little show had started. A quirky satisfied smile pulled her lips up into a sultry grin. "Bet you didn't know that I've been doing that for years." He gasped. She paused letting that little nugget of information sink in. "And I don't mean just masturbating. I mean masturbating thinking of you. The best orgasms of my life have been fantasizing about you touching me." He felt the sting of tears and didn't try to hold them back. If this was a joke, he just might kill somebody. Nothing this good ever happened to him. She continued to talk, unselfconscious about her body. Her voice was soft and low and lazy, totally unconcerned, as though she was day dreaming. "Mulder, you dope, I'm in love with you too. I wish you'd said something sooner. But then again, neither did I. And for the same reason as you. FEAR. We are a pair, aren't we?" She chuckled mirthlessly. "I'm tired of being afraid and I'm tired of waiting for this kind of happiness and I know that I'm not going to find it with anyone else." 'I'm dreaming, I must be fucking dreaming.' He grabbed a tissue from the coffee table and cleaned himself off, eyes still never leaving the screen. He couldn't get enough of staring at this display of Scully skin, all sprawled out and relaxed in post coital relaxation. She gave a quirky smile and spread her legs and slid a finger over the outside of her swollen lips. I go to the door and look out the peep hole even though there is no doubt in my mind who it is. He stands there watching the floor. I cannot see his face. Taking a deep breath, I open the door, leaving my chain lock on. He looks up and meets my gaze. And I am gazing through the two inch crack in the open door. Christ, I love the way he looks in black jeans and a leather jacket. He looks so casual, so ... male. Somehow this outfit, that I've seen a hundred times over makes him look like he just stepped off the cover of GQ. I decide to tease him suddenly. "What's the password?" A huge toothy smile breaks out on his face, the one that always does funny things to the contents of my stomach. A small chuckle and he replies, "Is there sexy redhead that lives here?" I laugh and swing the door open. His eyes go wide as he takes in the relatively skimpy amount of material I am wearing but says nothing. Those hazel eyes return to mine after a quick perusal and lock there. I'm sure I've never seen this look before. Desire, stark and obvious is etched on his features. The slightly slouched posture indicates his uncertainty. The moisture in his eyes gives away his fear. Seeing his discomfort has the effect that it usually has on me. I become 'take charge Dana' wanting to comfort him and put him at ease. "Hey, Mulder. I'm glad you're here. I was getting worried you wouldn't come over today." I try to sound casual. "Hey, Scully." He smiles a little nervous smile. "You knew I'd come." I'm not sure if he was referring to coming over here, or just coming! I back away from the doorway so he can enter and sweep my hand out indicating he should come in. He walks by me, hands in his pockets and looks around the living room, taking in the fire going in the fireplace, the candles on the coffee table and the wine chilling in a bucket next to the couch. I shut the door and wait for him to look around. He spins on his heel and looks at me, waiting, still unsure. "Let me take your jacket," I offer. I figure I should do some familiar things first to try to put him at ease. He shrugs out of it and hands it over. Now he has no pockets to hide his hands and I see them clench into fists then smooth over the thighs of his jeans. He looks at me again from underneath his lashes. God, he's acting shy. I've never seen him like this. I like it. "Have a seat, Mulder." He nods and takes the two long strides to the couch and sits down, not reclining, elbows on his thighs. "Scully, I feel really stupid here, but I've got to tell you ... I have no idea what to do here." I chuckle and sit beside him on the couch. "Relax. I won't bite you." He smiles at that. "I know." He stares at me again. I pour us each a glass of wine, and hand him his, letting him gather his thoughts. "What are you thinking?" I ask. He takes a deep breath. "You're so beautiful. Jesus Scully, I want this so badly and I'm so afraid I'll screw it up." Another deep breath and he sniffles a little, biting his bottom lip. I lay my hand gingerly on his knee and he jumps but doesn't pull away. I've never touched his legs. He just stares again. Quietly, I say, "Mulder, you can't possibly screw this up." "I'm good at screwing relationships up, Scully, believe me when I tell you." His eyes go to the carpet again. "Mulder, look at me." He looks at me out of the corner of his eye, not turning his head. I reach out and touch his chin, pulling his face around. He doesn't resist. "Scully, I ..." "Mulder, listen." He nods. "I've seen you at your best. I've seen you at your worst. I've seen you half-dead and I've seen you half- crazy. I've seen Compassionate Mulder, Playful Mulder, Brilliant Mulder, Devastated Mulder, Arrogant Mulder. The list goes on. And guess what?" "What?" His voice is a whisper. Now it's my turn to hesitate. I look at my lap but then raise my eyes to meet his again. Silently congratulating myself on how steady my voice is, I reply, "I love them all." He looks so amazed and bewildered by this statement. It's adorable. Quietly, he asks me, "How can that be?" He really is confused. I smile broadly at him, shaking my head slightly with my amusement. "You have become the single most important person in my life, Mulder. We've been through so much together. The fact that our partnership, let alone our friendship has survived is nothing short of miraculous. If we were going to do something to chase the other one away, I think we would have accomplished it by now, don't you?" "I guess so." He's smiling a little now. "Scully, tell me what you want to happen here, please. Just tell me ... what you ... the pace ... " He stops to take a breath again while he gathers his thoughts. I wait patiently. "I know what I'm trying to say, really I do." He chuckles. I smile at him. "Just spit it out Mulder. Stop worrying about how I'm gonna take it." "O.K. here goes. Just because you left me that tape doesn't mean that you want to jump into bed with me. Just because you ... love me ... doesn't mean that you don't want other things first." "Like what?" "I don't know. Courtship? Flowers? Making out in the car? Hell, I don't know! I'm so bad at this romantic relationship stuff. That's what I want you to tell me. I don't want you to think this is just about sex to me. I mean, I want that too, but ... I want ... Scully, I want it all. Scully, if we cross this line, I won't be able to cross back. I can live with things the way they are. I really can, just knowing that you know how I feel will be a relief." He paused. "Scully, I'm too much in love with you. There's no stepping back afterwards. Not for me. I need for you to understand that. Need to know you're sure." His eyes are suspiciously moist with tears now and his sexy bottom lip is quivering slightly. I need to still these fears of his. He is actually asking me to take control here. At work, he hates it when I try to take control and tell him what to do. Now he's asking me to take control. The irony doesn't escape me. "First of all, I don't need flowers, poetry or a courtship. I think we've been dating for nearly seven years now, don't you?" He smiles. "Second of all, I was through with making out in the back of cars by the time I was in college. I prefer a bed, thank you, although I'm open to suggestions." He hiccups at that suggestion, his amusement evident. "And third of all, if I didn't want to go to bed with you, leaving you that tape would have been a fairly stupid move, don't you think?" He's grinning now. "Yeah, I guess it would be, but ..." "No buts, Mulder, it's time, our time. I'm ready for this. But if you need more time, let me know. I'll wait." Now he is shaking his head. "You amaze me, Scully." "Why?" "I expected fear, ranting and raving, lists of reasons why we shouldn't do this. I didn't expect you to be calm after reading what I wrote. And Christ, I certainly didn't expect that tape. I'm completely thrown." "Had your speech all ready to counter my arguments and I took the wind right out of your sails, did I?" He chuckles. "Yeah, you did. You have a knack for that." "So, what else do you want to know? I want to get all the talking out of the way, beforehand." "Out of the way?" "Yeah." "Before what?" "Before I jump your bones." I surprise myself with how casual this sounds. He looks totally startled. "Jump my?..." His jaw drops open and he begins to laugh, a full belly laugh, hand to his sides, tears in his eyes. It sounds a bit hysterical. I've have totally rocked his world. I like the feeling. I'm smiling like an idiot now, loving his reaction. "Oh God, Scully, this is so unbelievable. My brain almost can't process those words coming out of YOUR mouth." It's his turn to shake his head. "What words did you picture coming out of my mouth?" His smile fades. He is suddenly serious again. "Oh I don't know. Mulder, I'm leaving the FBI, I can't work with you anymore. Mulder, you're crazy, you just think you love me. Mulder, I'm sorry, but..." "Oh God, Mulder." "Scully, after I hung up the phone and realized what I was doing by asking you to read that journal entry, I panicked. I was so scared. And when you didn't mention it when I talked to you and you kind of brushed me off last night on the phone ... well, I assumed the worst. "Then I get home and find my apartment cleaned, food in the fridge and a tape of the sexiest woman in the world masturbating for me! Christ, Scully, given my expectations, it's all a bit bizarre and rather overwhelming." "I'm sorry, Mulder. I just didn't want to talk over the phone. This was too important." "I know, but I still panicked. I was afraid I'd done the stupidest thing of my life." "No, you've done much stupider things." He barked out a laugh. "Gee, thanks. Always right there with the ego boost when I need it." I smiled. "I'm teasing." "I know. So, what now?" "Hmm. Any more questions?" "Yeah, what made you think of ... doing the tape?" "I don't know. You seem to have a thing for video tape." "I only watch them because I couldn't have you." "Did you like it?" "Did I like it?! Are you kidding me? It was right out of one of my fantasies. It almost didn't seem real. I had a little trouble comprehending that you ... YOU had done it for ME. Jesus, Scully, I thought I was going to have a heart attack!" "That was the idea." "Mission accomplished. I can't think of any more questions, not at the moment anyhow. I know what I want." I twisted around on the couch and threw my leg over his legs and straddled him. My hands went to his shoulders. He jerked back a little but then laid his hands on my hips, breathing hard, staring at me. I lowered my lips to his ear and whispered, "Did I make you come?" My voice dropped an octave without any effort on my part. His entire body shuddered under mine and he groaned, closing his eyes. "Yeess. I came ... hard." "Then indeed, mission accomplished. Think you can do it again so soon?" I ran my tongue around the shell of his ear and scraped my teeth lightly on his lobe. He shuddered again and began to breathe shallow. His fingers starting squeezing my hips but otherwise he didn't move. I ran my tongue behind his ear and down the column of his throat, finding his pulse at the base of his neck. I sucked his skin into my mouth, nipping lightly and then licking to smooth it with my tongue. I was feeling territorial all of a sudden and wanted to mark him. I bit him again, repeating the procedure. His shuddering groan this time sent a wave of arousal through my body that culminated in a spasm of warmth between my legs. It was slightly surreal that I, Dana Scully, was having this affect on him. I pressed my hips forward till my juncture met his body. I could feel his hardness through his jeans. He was panting now. "Oh God, Scully, Oh God!" I pulled back to look at his face. His eyelids were heavy with arousal, his eyes had turned a shade of deep green. I kept my voice low. "What do I have to do to get you to kiss me?" His eyes widened for about a second, then his hands slid up to grab my face and he pulled me to his lips. No gentle preliminaries. He pushed his lips against mine, the motion of his jaw opening my mouth. His tongue plunged inside my mouth. He swallowed my gasp and began to assault my tongue with his own, his jaw working back and forth as though he would devour me. He broke suddenly pulling air hard into his lungs. He looked at me briefly then pulled me in again. This time he slowed down, his initial frenzy seemingly abated. He was being slow and thorough now, although there was nothing timid about his ministrations. He nipped at my tongue and sucked on my lips. Now it was my turn to shudder as bolts of sensation melted all my muscles. I felt my brain lose track of the rest of the room and tried to refocus, but it was no use. I'd never been taken over by a kiss. This man could kiss! I'd had dreams about what that tongue could do to me, but the reality of kissing him was overwhelming. His lips were so smooth and soft. His hands were hot on the sides of my neck and his hardness was grinding into my crotch. His right hand drifted down to cup my left breast, kneading it firmly before his fingers latched onto my nipple and pulled. When his fingers began rolling the hard little bud back and forth, pinching it slightly, I felt the room spin. My arousal was ratcheting up a notch with every swivel of his hips and each touch of his tongue against mine and every squeeze of his fingers on my nipple. Christ, I was light-headed. I felt like I going to swoon. There was literally no blood left in my brain and I was sweating. Dana Scully does not swoon! My arms had come loose from his shoulders at some point. My last thought before I nearly tumbled out of his lap was, His arms were suddenly banded around my waist, and his lips broke away from mine, his forehead resting on mine and we panted into each other's face. I heard my own mewl of protest at the sudden change. I kept blinking, trying to focus on him, but wasn't having much luck. He smiled at me, his lips blurred and out of focus. "Easy, Scully, stay with me, we're just getting started." I gulped. "Mulder ... how the hell ... do you ... do that?" I sounded breathy and stunned. Well, that's how I felt. He smiled harder, rubbing his nose across mine in an Eskimo kiss. "Do you have any idea how sexy it is to see you react like this? You are so beautiful." His hands left my waist and threaded through my hair. "I can't believe I can touch you like this, it's almost too much." "Are you O.K.?" "Yeah, are you?" I was regaining control of my body now and wrapped my arms around his neck. "Other than almost passing out from the pleasure, I'm fine." He laughed then. "This is too good to be true." "It's true. No such thing as too good." "I agree. I seem to remember a request for a bed." "Do you now?" "Mmm. Think we can make it that far?" "We can try." I gingerly slid off his lap onto floor, my legs feeling rubbery. I swayed while he balanced me. I grinned sheepishly. He smiled and stood when I had steadied. He picked me up and cradled me like a baby. My hands went back around his neck as I turned my face into his chest. ** Life can be strange sometimes. Yesterday, I was nearly in the pit of despair, scared to death that my world was about to come apart because of a declaration I should have kept to myself. And today, I'm headed into the bedroom of the woman I've been in love with for nearly five years, her soft, little body cradled against my chest. She weighs almost nothing and I'm struck by the difference in our sizes. I was paralyzed for a moment when she first put her lips on me. It was such a weird thing to have my fantasy become reality that my brain took a few seconds to believe it was happening, despite the conversation we'd just had. Despite the tape she'd left for me, I just couldn't believe that this was actually going to happen. My brain finally caught up with my body and I began to touch her and kiss her the way I'd always dreamed. I'd had a hard time keeping my eyes on her face since I came in the door. It was as if her breasts had an eye magnet on them. I couldn't stop looking at them, seeing their firm roundness outlined under her skimpy tank top. There is hardly any sag to them. They were full and round and firm and perfect. But her reaction was the best. I can't believe it still. Dana Scully just swooned in arms. An honest to goodness swoon. Her moans were making me slightly delirious when I felt her arms drop away from my shoulders, her head go slack under my hand, tilting to the side. I had barely registered these movements when her entire body slumped and nearly toppled out of my lap onto the couch. Thank god for auto pilot reflexes that have been honed by years of running for my life. They kicked in and anchored her to me, holding her upright without needing any interference from my brain. Good thing, because my head was swimming, unable to focus on any one thing. I was just drowning in a sea of pleasure, having finally given myself over to it once having gotten past my fear and disbelief. ** I set her gently on the bed and she flops back, legs dangling off the bed. I sit her up slightly and yank her top up. She raises her arms to facilitate the removal of her shirt. I toss it away, not even looking to see where it lands. I realize it's dark in here and lean over to click on the bedside lamp. It has a soft light in it that doesn't hurt my eyes, but casts an off white glow onto the bed. She is beautiful. Beyond beautiful. She is exquisite. I knew this. I've seen her naked. I'd just seen her on tape. But this is the first time I've had the opportunity to really take it all in. She isn't sick, she isn't covered in goo from a alien pod. She is hale, hearty, live and in color. And aroused. Because of me. I feel a surge of egotistical pride that I have put this look on her face. This languid arousal. The sparkle in her eyes as she awaits my next move. I unbutton her jeans as she lays back fully on the bed, arms stretched above her head. I mutter, "Lift." She lifts her hips and I hook my fingers into her leggings and slide them down, catching her panties on the way to pull them both down and off the end of her legs. I lean over, balancing on my hands and kiss her thoroughly, savoring the taste of her soft full lips. There are no words to describe this feeling. I am staring at an aroused, totally naked, Dana Scully. I feel euphoric. I am in awe. I feel like I should kneel down and worship. Having that thought flit across my mind, I am on my knees, tearing my tee-shirt over my head. I grab her hips and pull her to the edge of the bed. She gasps. "Oh God, Mulder, are you going to ..." "Is that O.K.?" "I've dreamed about it." That is her only reply. I realize that was her total answer and it was her permission. Without further adieu, I spread her legs and begin trailing my tongue over the soft, tender skin on the inside of her thighs. I can smell her, I can see the wetness coating her folds, but I am determined to take my time. I have waited too long for this and I refuse to rush. I know I'm a decent lover, despite the cruelty of a woman like Phoebe in my past. I know what to do. I'm not one of the men who has to ask if she came. What was it Dennis Miller said on that tape? 'Don't ask her if she came. You're a big boy now, Clousseau, you should know if she came.' And I do know. I can always tell. And I am on a mission of my own. Scully and her little show and tell tape took me by surprise and she indeed made me come, hard. And now, it's time to return the favor, even the score so to speak. I was blessed with a long tongue. I can touch my chin with the tip of it, or my nose. Comes in handy for activities of this nature. My lips make their way to her juncture and I kiss her folds gently, then lick her from bottom to top. She moans, a low sultry sound. I feel my erection throb in response. I can't get enough of hearing her moan. I want to make her moan so much she has a sore throat tomorrow. My tongue dives into her on auto pilot, swirling around to find her walls, to taste them. Oh man, she tastes delicious. Her juices are thick, with a slight tang that makes my taste buds sit up and take notice, cringing slightly like when you take your first suck off a sweet tart. That's it, like a sweet tart. One hand anchors her hips as she begins to squirm after raising her feet to the bed for better leverage. I studiously avoid her clit even though I know that is where she wants me. I'll get there. Not yet. The fingers of my other hand spread her lips wide to help make room for my tongue to maneuver. I love going down on a woman. I don't know why, but I always have. It must be the reactions I get. I'll take Scully juice over sunflower seeds to satisfy my oral fixation any day! Yes, I know I have an oral fixation. So what? After about a minute of licking and nipping and sucking up her juices with my lips and tongue, she is whimpering and I decide it's time to get serious. Enough savoring. I push my fingers holding her lips apart inside and begin rubbing the front wall of her tunnel. She is so hot and slick and I can feel her walls pulsing around my fingers. My lips go her little bundle of nerves peeking out of her auburn curls. My free fingers gently pull the hood off her erect little nub, now red and swollen with her excitement. I roll it between my lips firmly and then begin to suck and lick. Oh my god, she's going wild. Her hands slapped the bed, grabbing up the bedclothes into fists as her back arched as she let out a shriek of surprize. Then her hips bucked violently into my mouth and her spasms began. Her shriek of surprise at the touch of my lips on her center of pleasure turned into a low groan. The first spasm brought a wail. I sucked harder and worked my fingers furiously, plunging in and out, straining my eyes to the side to see her face. Then she screamed my name as her orgasm continued, throwing her head back, her chest flushing red, her nipples hard. "Muuullldddeeerrr, Ohgodyes, Ohgodyes, Oh, I'm coming so hard. Holy Shit! Jesus, Muuullldddeerrr." I rode it out with her, lapping her gently as she returned to me. She lay limp and panting on the bed, as I slowly removed my fingers causing her to moan. I sucked her taste off my fingers and watched her as I stood and discarded my boots, socks, jeans and boxers. Her eyes were closed. I wasn't even sure if she knew I wasn't touching her anymore. Whatever lingering insecurities I had about this just went flying out the window with her orgasm. I don't remember ever being this hard. The rush of blood in my engorged cock is bordering on pain. I crawl up on all fours and straddle her body, my cock hanging above her thighs. I poke her gently with it and rub it on the skin of her inner thigh, spreading my fluid in hers. She hums and opens her eyes, smiling a lazy, satisfied smile. "That was incredible, Mulder, I've never come that hard from oral sex." "Glad you liked it," I murmur, trying to be humble, and lean down to kiss her softly, sucking her bottom lip into my mouth then retreating to look at her face. Post-coital Scully is an awesome sight. I feel unreasonably proud of myself. And I really am trying to ignore the now relentless throbbing between my legs that is quickly turning into an bone deep ache. She looks down at me and gasps, her eyes going wide. She teases me. "Oh, Mulder, I want THAT!" I chuckle. "It's all yours. It's been all yours for a long, long time now." She nods, looking humbled by that statement. I look at her, still looking at me. There is wonder on her face as she wraps her tiny hand around me from underneath, almost reverently and slides her hand from base to tip. Her beautiful lips form an almost perfect 'O'. I'm leaking at a ridiculous rate at this point. It's almost embarrassing how aroused I am. Using her thumb to spread my precum over the head, she coos at me. I never would have guessed, Dana Scully cooes. "Ooo, you're a BIG boy, Mulder. Oh, I'm gonna have sooo much fun with this." I grin at her, feeling a swelling sensation in my chest at her admiration for my anatomy. There is no bigger compliment to a guy than having the woman he's about to bed say that she likes what she sees. She continues to stroke me, more firmly now and it's my turn to start moaning helplessly. She's still talking and I struggle to concentrate on her words. It's hard with the bolts of electricity shooting through my dick with every stroke. "I knew were big, but I didn't really KNOW it if you know what I mean. Beautiful, Mulder, you're beautiful." As hard as it is to stop her, I reach down and still her hand. "I'm going to come in about 5 seconds if you keep that up. I'd rather put it to use in other ways." She chuckles. "Hmm, then what would you like to do with it?" My answer is to drop down to my elbows and insinuate my hips between her thighs, nudging her wet entrance with the head of my shaft. She grunts slightly and raises her legs to wrap them around my hips. I am suddenly struck with enormity of what is about to happen and my breathing speeds up at an alarming rate. Scully notices right away of course. "Are you O.K.?" she whispers. I nod. My voice sounds choked as I answer her. "I still can't believe I'm about to be inside you." She seems to sense my need for reassurance that this is reality and not a dream. "Yes, that's where I want you. Inside me, Mulder. Do it now. Oh God, I can't stand it anymore. Fill me up." I groan. That's all I'm capable of at the moment. Bracing myself, I push slowly inside her. She locks her gaze with mine, her face glowing with anticipation. "Oooooohhhhhh, Muldeeer, yes!" I'm shaking. Sad but true. I, Fox Mulder, 39 years old and no stranger to sex with a variety of women in the past, am shaking like a leaf, like a virgin. But you have to understand. THIS IS DANA SCULLY! I AM PUSHING MYSELF INSIDE DANA SCULLY! I AM ABOUT TO HAVE SEXUAL INTERCOURSE WITH DANY SCULLY! MY THROBBING PENIS IS SINKING INTO THE WOMAN I LOVE FOR THE FIRST TIME!" Feeling a little dizzy, I make a conscious decision to begin breathing again unless I want to pass out. I suck a deep breath into my burning lungs and bite my lip for control. Slow and steady, I push forward until I feel the resistance of cervix and push gently just a little further to embed myself to the hilt, my balls plastered against her ass. I stop there, holding still as I can and reveling in the hot silky tightness engulfing me. I could come this second if I let myself. I curl my fingernails into my palms in an effort to regain some control. Scully is letting out little puffs of breath against my neck. "So good, Mulder, you feel incredible, so good, OH, you're stretching me, yeah." Her hot breath whispered into my ear with her declaration. I shiver and continue shaking slightly, feeling the weakness in my arms and legs. "Don't move for a minute, Scully." She nods, understanding my dilemma. She is generous enough not to mention that I'm shaking like a virgin teenager. She looks up at me and I drop my head down for another slow, soft kiss. I relax into the feel of her lips against mine, her gentle tongue caressing my own. I break the kiss, feeling my equilibrium return. My shaking has stilled for the moment. "Scully, I'm almost afraid to move. I want this to last." "Don't worry about it. That magic tongue of yours already made me come. And you feel so damn good inside me. I'm going to enjoy this no matter what." "You're being entirely too kind, Scully." "No, I'm not. I know it's hard, it's been a long time for both of us." She pauses. "Has it been a long time for you?" She is suddenly unsure? I smile. "It's been forever, and yes, it's hard. That's the understatement of the century." She laughs gently at my double meaning. "Move now, don't worry." I nod and begin a slow retreat, immediately moaning at the sensation of her hot slick walls sliding against my shaft. I stroke slowly back into her, watching her face. I set up a pathetically slow rhythm, determined to last as long as I can, despite her reassurance. Even so, about a minute is all I can manage before I involuntarily begin to speed up, primal instinct and need for release taking over. I've been over stimulated since I was sitting on her couch and well, I can't help it. Within thirty seconds of increasing my speed, I'm pounding furiously into her, groaning at the incredible squeeze that occurs with every plunge into her. My head is buried into her neck now and I latch on and begin to suck where her neck meets her shoulder. She is meeting me thrust for thrust, undaunted by my frenzied pace. She is unbelievably tight. I've never been inside anyone this snug and tight. The sensations are so intense. They are overwhelming because it is Scully. THIS IS SCULLY! She begins to chant, "Ooo, ooo, ooo," each time slide inside. I feel her raise her legs higher above my waist. This tilts her hips up and the angle causes me sink even deeper into her depths. That's it, I'm going to lose it. I can't help it. "Scully, oh god, I'm gonna come, can't help it." I'm shocked when I hear her say, "Oh, me too." Two more strokes and I feel a mighty throb in my shaft, followed by a spasm in my balls and I explode, literally. My voice is wild, raw as I wail into her poor little ear. "Scccuuulllyyy, OH GOD! OH GOD! YES, YES, YES! LOVE YOU! HOLY SHIT! SCCUULLY! AHHH, AHHH." Just then, I feel her walls clamp down on me, release and begin to milk me for all I'm worth. She shouts, "Oh Mulder, I'm coming, yes, I'm coming again, yes, whooaaa." I'm ejaculating so hard it's making me dizzy. My vision jump went dim. I can no longer form any coherent words, but my throat continues to wail an "Aaahhhh" sort of sound as I experience the most intense orgasm of my entire life. It's never been this good, it's never lasted this long. I've never come this hard in my life. I've had some pretty good orgasms between my legs. But this is the first time I ever felt one from the tip of my toes to the crown of my head. A full body experience. My spirit disengages and I can see myself thrashing on top of her tiny body. My consciousness races back down to my body and I feel myself melting into her, blending with her. I can feel her unconditional love and joy pour over me in waves. I can feel her, feel what she feels for me and I try to give it back. It's the only way I can describe the feeling of two souls meant for each other, exploding with celebration at finally being connected. ** Excuse me while I die and go to heaven! This man can fuck! But it's more than that. The erogenous zone between my ears is competing with the one between my legs for dominance. Neither is winning, they are blending into one gigantic wave of pleasure as I hear him grunt, groan and shake on top of me. Knowing that I am making this incredibly passionate man lose control is a heady feeling. But he is making me lose control too. It's never been like this. I can feel my heart racing as fast as his. I am meeting him grunt for grunt, groan for groan and tremor for tremor. We are so synchronized. It's an overwhelming, awesome thing. We are not just fucking. Although it is wild and fast and hard. We are making love, despite the loss of control. I see it in his face as he lifts his head from my shoulder. His awe, his wonder, his disbelief at the feeling, his love for me are all evident in the lines of his face and his eyes. I am humbled by it. I feel the pleasure spike into the red zone just as I hear him say, "Scully, oh god, I'm gonna come, can't help it." Like he has anything to apologize for. That's all I needed. I squeak out, "Oh, me too." Those few words and the feel of him washing my insides a couple of strokes later with spray after spray of warmth and I am leaping into the abyss. The convulsions of my orgasm rip through my body. My walls grip him over and over in a near death grip of desperation to pull him so deep inside he can never find his way out. His wails almost hurt my ear, but my shrieks are just as loud. My brain took a vacation from reality in order to process the pleasure without passing out. Almost from outside myself, I hear my voice shouting his name and other nonsense. I just felt something extraordinary. I might even have to admit to a paranormal experience. Our waves of pleasure joined. I could feel what he felt for me, love, utter joy at being connected to me. We just became one person, together. He collapses on top of me as we ride out the aftershocks that shudder through us. Sweat is slicking both our bodies and his weight feels divine. He lifts himself and I mumble, "No, stay." Without protest, he collapses on me again. When our breathing returns to normal, he slides out of me carefully. I moan at the loss, but he pushes me onto my side and pulls my back into his chest, spooning me and squeezing me tightly, laying as much of my body against his as possible. He nuzzles my neck and says, "I love you, Scully." "Mmm, I love you too." "Feels weird to be able to say it out loud like that." "Yeah, it does, but it feels good too. God, Mulder, I feel like a thousand pound weight has been lifted off my shoulders. "I know what you mean." He pauses. As if he's talking to himself, "That was the best sex I've ever had." He sounds stunned. I giggle. "I'm glad, same here, but don't sound so stunned or I might take offense." He squeezes me again. "I knew it would be good, but God, I've never experienced anything like that, Scully. It was almost an out of body experience." I would normally laugh at a comment like that but I know exactly what he means. I lost sight of the rest of the world too. I am whispering and I'm not sure why, maybe because I'm afraid a regular voice will shatter the peace in my soul right now. "Mulder, it was like we were the only two people in the universe." He nuzzles me again. "Like we were one person?" It is more of a statement than a question. "Yeah, two halves of a whole. I'm glad you told me read that journal entry." He snickers. "If I had known it would entice you into making a naughty film for me, I would have told you a long time ago." I flushed, slightly embarrassed at what I had done suddenly. "I don't really know what made me do it. I was afraid to just be there when you got home. I was afraid face to face, it might get all balled up or we would be too nervous to talk. I know that sounds silly, considering how well we know each other but still." "No I know what you mean. We may know each other well as friends and partners, but there is still a lot we don't know about each other in regard to romantic relationships. It's not as if it's something that we've discussed in detail." "Exactly and I wanted to be sure that you got the message. I didn't want you to wonder what I wanted or us to be awkward if I tried to tell you to your face. And frankly, I knew that you would have a hard time believing it if I just said it. I wanted to show you that you weren't alone. That you had been in my fantasies too." "Do you know that I don't ever remember feeling this happy." "Me neither." "Christ, I hope I don't wake up soon." I chuckled. "You won't. I'm real. This is real. In fact, this is the most real thing that has ever happened to me." "I love you." "I love you, too. Hey, are you hungry, I have pot roast." "Not yet, let me hold you like this for a while." "It's too early to sleep." "Says who?" I chuckle. "Maybe a little nap." "Mmm, a nap and then we can do this again." "Again?" "Mmm, again. "I've created a monster." "Yes, you have." "Tell me again, Mulder." His voice is hushed but reverent and he brushes a lock of hair behind my ear. "I love you so much, Scully." He pauses. "I need to hear it again too." I smile a contented smile. It's not as hard as I thought it would be to say this out loud. "I love you too, Mulder, very much." He nuzzled me again, humming in the back of his throat and exhausted, despite that it was only a little after 4:00 PM, we fell into a peaceful sleep. 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