SCREAM by viXen * Please forward to atxc. * Archive: Yes to Gossamer; everyone else, please ask me first. * Summary: A thunderstorm, a confession and a bet. * Keywords: Mulder/Scully romance * Spoilers: Season Five spoilers, up to and including Redux II. * Classification: VR * Rating: mild R * Disclaimer: I don't own Fox Mulder and Dana Scully. They belong to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions and Fox Broadcasting. * Author's Notes: My gratitude to a wonderful group of ladies who beta read Scream and gave me advice too tempting to ignore. All feedback will be give a good home and a fresh catnip toy at xfvixen@geocities.com. ************************* SCREAM by viXen Dana Scully stretched out on the hotel bed, her back against the headboard and the laptop perched on her thighs. The pitter-patter of raindrops on the lone window in the room, combined with light tapping on the keyboard created a strange but soothing symphony of sound as she tried to concentrate. She took off her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose, determined to shake an image that had crept into her mind uninvited: her partner's tongue slowly, gently lapping at a melting ice-cream cone, the creamy liquid coating his full bottom lip, tiny rivers of sweet decadence drizzling down his chin, over his throat and pooling in the hollow of his clavicle. Her breath left her in a forced 'whoosh' as she shook her head, then replaced her glasses on her face. "Focus, Dana," she mumbled as she began concentrating on her field notes again. Her fingers cruised along, typing at lightning-fast speed until a message flashed across the screen telling her the battery was low. "Damnit." She rose from the bed and went to the laptop's carrying case seated on the desk across the room. She dug in the side pocket and retrieved the adapter. Lightning flashed in through the blinds on the window, and a second later thunder crashed around her. The lamp flickered twice but held on to the light. Scully looked at the laptop and its adapter in her hands, then tossed them both in the carrying case. Frying the motherboard during an electrical storm would get them a tongue lashing from Computer Services they would never live down. Thunder bellowed again like a sonic boom. The storm was close, almost on top of them. She went to the window and pulled the blinds apart, peering out at the rain-drenched darkness. The night was thrumming with action. The fury of the storm blew leaves and debris around the hotel parking lot, creating whirlwinds that reminded her of mini-hurricanes. Skies had been clear earlier in the day but the storm moved in like a supersonic jet, bringing with it dark pregnant clouds and vicious winds. A knock at the door startled her. "Scully? It's pouring out here!" His voice sounded as if he had been caught in a wind tunnel. Scully unlatched the top lock and opened the door to a shivering, soggy Mulder. "What are you doing outside?" "That last power surge blew the TV in my room," he replied as he hurried in and shut the door behind him. "It flickered, then there was a loud pop and the screen went blank." "Maybe that's a sign that you watch too much television." He smiled at her over his shoulder as he plopped himself onto her bed. "Where's your remote?" "On the bedside table, I imagine," she replied as she walked back to the window, separating the slats and looking at the ferocity outside. "Weatherman said the storm promised to be the worst one this town has seen in ten years," Mulder said in a somber voice. "That's why the airport canceled all flights. Ahhh, there it is." Scully turned to see Mulder's hand close around the remote. One long tapered finger stood poised over the buttons, tapping down once to bring the television to life. The screen flicked on, and with the picture came a blood-curdling scream. "Jesus, Mulder," Scully yelled as she covered her ears. His finger frantically punched the volume button until the sound settled on a normal level. "Sorry about that. But hey, it's 'The Fly'. The original version, even." He turned his head to look at her and saw her disapproving look. "This is one of the best, Scully. They don't make them like this anymore." "Can't imagine why," she muttered under her breath. "This is a classic horror movie. You can always tell a classic by the screaming." One eyebrow jetted toward her hairline. "You judge the quality of a horror movie by the screaming?" "Of course," he said, as if it was the most obvious truth they had ever encountered. "You have got to be kidding, Mulder." "Why?" he asked as he turned on his side to face her. "Horror movies are supposed to have lots of screaming. They're also supposed to make the audience scream." "They don't make me scream," she said nonchalantly. "Why?" "Because I don't scream." His eyebrows arched. "Never, Scully? You have *never* screamed in your entire life?" "Not spontaneously, no." "What do you mean, not spontaneously?" Scully sighed. She had just done a beautiful job of verbally hanging herself. She could tell from the impish grin on his face that the conversation was about to take a turn for the worse, but she refused to back down. "I mean, I'm not easily frightened. If my fear does become overwhelming, my reaction does not include screaming. The only time I've ever screamed was when it was expected of me." He let out a hiccup of laughter as he clicked off the television. "Socially-acceptable screaming? *This* I have to hear." "When I was younger, there were times when the girl was supposed to scream," she replied coolly. "At scary movies, at a haunted house, on roller coasters. It wasn't a natural response for me, but I did it because it was expected." Mulder stared at her, his eyes bright. "You faked your screams solely to feed the male ego?" The unspoken innuendo in his words hung between them like a heavy storm cloud, its lightning ready to strike at any moment. Scully swore she could smell the electricity in the air, but she convinced herself it was the smell of the storm seeping into the poorly insulated hotel room. "I guess you could put it that way," she said cautiously. She made the mistake of raising her gaze to meet his. She shouldn't have been surprised by the mischievous grin on his lips or the wicked playfulness in his hazel eyes, but her breath caught in her throat. She turned toward the window, unable to ignore her body's reaction to his words and expression. Mulder Innuendoes delivered in the car, or at a crime scene, was one thing. Mulder Innuendoes delivered while he was stretched out on her bed, staring at her with those bedroom eyes, was completely different. And completely dangerous. "Doesn't sound like you, Scully. Doing something so opposite to your character just to make a guy feel macho." His voice reminded her of butter pecan ice cream: a thick, candy-sweet temptation. "I was young and stupid," she said with a shaky smile as she faced him again. "Weren't we all? But I just can't imagine you conforming to a set of archaic societal rules, especially ones that are so much against your nature." "Normally I don't," she rebutted, slipping into her argument mode. "As I said before, I was young, too young to know any different. Now I know better." He sat up on the bed, letting his legs dangle over the edge. His eyes twinkled with one part curiosity, one part amusement and one part seductiveness: a dangerous combination for Fox Mulder. "So, you've never screamed out of fear. I can believe that. You're a strong woman. But you've never screamed out of frustration?" He paused as his grin widened. "Or passion?" "I don't understand," she replied as calmly as she could. His words were like an icepick chipping away at her resolve. "You know what I mean, Scully. When someone evokes such emotion in you that you just have to let it out. It happens to all of us. It's a normal reaction for all animals to scream or cry out in release." She swallowed. "Yes, it is. However, I've never been in a situation where I've felt the need to vocalize my release in that manner." "Is that so?" She nodded as her mind tried to produce the perfect comeback, but she never got the chance to form a complete thought. A thunder clap exploded overhead, a sound so intense it rattled the window where she was standing. Within a second of the thunder, the light from the lamp surged then blinked off. The wind howled like a coyote baying at the moon, and rain beat against the window like tiny fists. The cacophony of sound outside eclipsed the movement inside. Scully wasn't aware of Mulder's approach until she felt his hands settle on her shoulders. She jumped at his touch but he held on, moving his hands to her upper arms. She could feel the heat of his body behind her, though no part of him touched her but his hands. Lightning created a muffled flash between the slats of the blinds, and the thick night air flowed into the room, permeating her skin and intoxicating her senses. His touch, his words, the fury of the storm... it all seemed so... alive. "You should move away from the window," he said against her ear. "The wind might blow something through the glass." "I want to watch," she whispered. His grip tightened on her arms. "It's dangerous." "I like dangerous," she responded with a smile. He pulled her closer and she complied, letting her back lean against his chest. He felt hard and soft at the same time, and so alive. It had been so long since she had felt truly alive. "So, if something slammed into that window right now," he said in a breathy voice, "you wouldn't scream, right?" "Right," she answered without hesitation. "I told you, Mulder. I don't scream." She fought a shudder as his breath feathered her ear. "I bet I could make you scream." A tiny whimper escaped her lips. His arms slipped under hers and snaked around her waist. She tried to turn in his arms but he wouldn't allow it. "Don't." His lips brushed against the skin of her neck, barely a kiss but enough contact to send her stomach fluttering. "Mulder, no..." "Why?" "You know why," she said softly, trying not to notice that his kisses had become stronger, bolder. "No, I don't. Tell me." "*They* would..." "No," he said harshly, tightening his arms around her. "If you don't want this because you don't feel the same way, then tell me now. But don't stop me because you're worried about some set of rules forced upon us by lies and deceit. Those rules were broken when *they* gave you cancer. I almost lost you, Scully. It won't happen again. I refuse to play by any rules but our own from now on." Thunder crashed overhead, startling her. She couldn't find the words to express her thoughts. She wanted him, that she didn't doubt. She felt as if the weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders when she allowed herself to admit her powerful attraction to Mulder. To know his attraction to her was just as strong sent a wave of passion through her body so overwhelming she thought her knees would buckle. As his tongue lightly explored her ear, the image of the ice-cream cone returned to her mind. Streams of creamy liquid inching down his chest, carefully negotiating the maze of wiry chest hair. Traveling down, down until it collected in the safety of his navel, where it sat taunting her, begging her to retrieve it with her tongue. "Tell me what you want, Scully." His hands moved to her midriff, his fingers splaying across her stomach and ribs. No more rules. No more cat and mouse games. Everything on their terms, hers and Mulder's. Mulder. Yes, she wanted Mulder. In every way. Scully smiled. Maybe, maybe not. She wasn't lying when she said no man had ever made her scream. But the thought of what Mulder would try in order to accomplish it sent arousal shooting through her like lightning. She shifted against his body, pressing herself closer to his heat. "Give it your best shot, Mulder," she said into the darkened room. "Make me scream." THE END SCREAM II by viXen A forced breath whispered past her ear as strong hands began stroking her hips. Up and down, long strokes reaching from her waist to the tops of her thighs, then back again. "Mulder, did you hear me?" Her voice wavered with the motion of his hands. "I heard you," his voice rumbled. "I'm just formulating a game plan." "A game plan to make me scream?" She tried to turn in his arms but met with resistance. "You don't expect me to face a challenge of this magnitude without some strategic planning, do you?" She smiled. "It's never stopped you before." He chuckled against her skin. "True, but this is different." He loosened his embrace and she took the opportunity to turn and face him. Her hands went to his chest as his arms wrapped around her waist. "Why? Why is this different?" "Because this is a challenge I *want* to face, not one that's being forced upon me." He pulled her closer and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Because this is challenge in which I don't care if I win or lose. The only thing that matters is that I get to be with you, like this." Her eyes closed and she sighed as he pulled her closer. He continued raining soft kisses on her face, carefully avoiding her lips. She grumbled impatiently at him but the only thing it elicited from his lips was a soft chuckle. Resisting the urge to grab his face and force his mouth upon hers, Scully let him control the situation. This was his seduction, his achingly slow seduction, and she would let him set the tone. No matter how badly she wanted to touch him, to let her hands trace the curves and planes of his long, beautiful body, she would resist. She wanted to be seduced. She needed to be seduced. Ignoring the raucous symphony of the storm outside, she focused instead on the sound of Mulder's breath as he nuzzled the skin on her neck, the whispering of cloth as his hands roamed the length of her torso, the guttural sounds erupting from her throat in tiny explosions of air and passion. His assault on her senses halted abruptly and she whimpered at the loss. After one last lingering kiss on her forehead, he took her hands in his and tugged gently. "Come here." He led her away from the window and to the lone recliner in the room, his eyes never leaving hers until she started to sit on the recliner. "No," he said softly. "Not there. On the ottoman." She cocked her head to the side to question him but quickly reminded herself that he was calling the shots. She lowered herself onto the overstuffed footstool without further hesitation. She heard him behind her, the cloth of his slacks rustling as he walked away. For the first time in minutes, she heard the tapping of the rain against the window. She counted several seconds between a flash of lightning and its accompanying thunder clap. Scully smiled. The storm outside was losing its force, while the storm inside was just beginning to flourish. She turned from the window when she heard Mulder returning, his hand suspiciously concealing something. When she tried to look, he shook his head and closed his hand tighter around the object, then walked behind her. She heard a 'whoosh' as he sat on the recliner. "Scoot back," he said as he put his hands on her shoulders. She complied and moved the ottoman until her back made contact with the recliner. His legs were spread, one knee on either side of her, creating a protective barrier for her body. She leaned back and let out a contented sigh as his hands went to her hair, his fingers massaging her scalp. "Relax," he whispered as he gathered her hair into a ponytail. She heard a snap, then realized the object in his hand had been a barrette, the one she always kept in her bag for when she performed autopsies. Her curiosity got the better of her. "What are you..." "Uh uh. No hints," he murmured against her neck. "Just relax and let me touch you." Her sigh mixed with a thunder clap as Mulder's thumb and forefinger clamped onto the base of her neck and began massaging the taut skin. Her head lolled forward and a low groan rattled her body. "Feel good?" He moved his hand and replaced it with his lips, and began lightly kissing the nape of her neck while his fingers worked on the two buttons at the back of her silk shirt. She moaned her approval, completely intoxicated by the feel of his warm, moist lips on her skin. He pulled the back of her shirt open as far as it would give, then began massaging her shoulders, his fingers digging in and working the muscle as a sculptor would knead clay. He concentrated on her shoulders for several minutes, pushing his thumbs into the muscle near her shoulder blades and massaging the tension from her body, then moved his hands down her arms. Scully mused silently as he kneaded the muscles in her biceps. Something about his touch rejuvenated her, made her feel alive and loved. How long had it been since she had felt this way? Too long, she realized. Far too long. He leaned forward to give her forearms the same treatment, and she rested her head against his chest. Her eyes slipped shut, and she let the rhythm and sound of his breathing lull her into a sleepy euphoria. she thought as he slowly massaged her wrists and hands. She could feel her spine becoming rubbery and she thought she might melt into a boneless mass at his feet. His breath feathered her ear. "You still with me?" "Hmmm" was the only response she could muster. She heard him shifting behind her and before she knew it, he was crouched next to her. One of his arms went under her knees; the other went to her back and he lifted her, then placed her gently on the chair. The move shook the sleepy clouds from her head. "What's wrong?" Mulder quickly sat on the ottoman and took her hands in his, placing a soft kiss on each of her wrists. "Nothing's wrong. Just wanted a change of venue for this next part." "What next part?" She opened her eyes and saw a devilish smile on his lips. He simply shook his head and began lightly stroking the tops of her thighs. He slowly increased the pressure, massaging her legs through the material of her slacks. His hands took a leisurely journey down her legs, caressing and stroking her calves, and finally settled on her ankles. Scully felt her entire body relax again at his touch, the storm and the world outside a distant memory. Even her mind felt at ease, concentrating on nothing but the sensation of getting a sensuous rubdown by her partner, and soon-to-be lover. Her arousal liquefied at the thought of being beneath him, above him, next to him as they made love over and over again. The ice-cream cone image from before gave way to the image of his tongue gently lapping at her breasts, biting and sucking at the tips, then slowly licking his way down her body, tasting every inch of skin until he reached the thatch of reddish-brown curls... A breathy groan interrupted her thoughts. She didn't realize the moan had come from her until another one exploded from her throat. Her eyes opened and she saw the reason for her vocal response. Mulder was hard at work, kneading the heel of her foot with his thumbs. His hands worked their magic on her heel and ankle, then slowly moved toward the ball of her foot. When he reached the fleshy part of her arch, her foot twitched and she pulled it away. She smiled faintly. "Sorry. It tickles." "You're ticklish? I'll have to remember that." "Normally I'm not," she replied, her voice tinged with defiance, "but I think it's the pantyhose rubbing on my skin that's doing it." His grin widened. "Well, I can fix that." His hand went to his pants pocket and produced a pocketknife. "Mulder, what are you doing?" she asked with a hint of panic in her voice. When he didn't answer, her eyes widened. "Mulder, couldn't you just take off my pants?" She shuddered at the smile on his face. He had the look of a predator sizing up his prey just before devouring it. "No can do, Scully," he answered in a honey-dipped tone. "It's not in the game plan." He flipped the blade from its hiding place in the pocketknife's hull, then grabbed her foot. "Mulder..." "I thought you liked dangerous," he whispered as he rubbed his hand over her foot. "I won't hurt you, Scully. You know that, don't you?" She looked at him, seeing his heart in the depths of his hazel-green eyes. She swallowed, trying to calm her breathing, as she silently gave him permission with a nod and a phantom of a smile. He returned her smile ten-fold and lightly kissed the top of her foot. Carefully, he inserted the knife in the nylon between her toes and tugged. The nylon sliced with ease, and he added a quick jerk to cut through the seam at the top of her toes. He ripped the nylon apart and pushed the shredded pieces up her leg to reveal her entire foot. His thumbs dug into the skin in her arch while his forefingers massaged the top of her foot. "Better?" he asked. All Scully could do was nod. Her voice, other than the occasional gasp or moan, had disappeared, as had all coherent thought. All of the stress from the past year flowed from her body through her pores, evaporating in the rain-scented air of the hotel room. Never had a massage had such an effect on her. The only tension remaining in her body was that of a sexual nature, and she knew there was only one way that tension could be resolved. She let out a sigh as he placed a kiss on her ankle. She would have been content had he stopped there, but he continued planting open-mouthed kisses on the fleshy part between her ankle and heel, then the side of her foot, then the top, then... Scully's eyes snapped open to find the most erotic sight she had ever seen: Fox Mulder's beautiful mouth suckling her toe. "Oh God! Mulderrr..." His name trailed off in a long moan as her fingernails bit into the arms of the chair. Her moaning continued, eclipsing the thunder and rain outside, and she filled the room with a breathy, erotic aria. Her arousal flooded her senses, sending every nerve ending on her body into full alert. She was writhing in the chair, her hips unable to keep still as he increased his efforts. He nipped and sucked on each toe, his own moan reverberating against her skin. Scully nearly came unglued when she heard his moan. Apparently he wasn't expecting her reaction to be so strong. Neither was she. She had never been so vocal, had never opened herself so fully to a man before. She should have been scared, or at the very least apprehensive, but it felt so good. Too good to stop. His hands began to wander, up the outsides of her legs, and his mouth soon followed. He worked his way up her body, his hands and lips touching every part of her he could reach. He rose on his knees, settling his body between her legs and his hands went to her hair. "God, Scully," he exhaled, his breath warm on her face. He kissed her face, urgent, wet kisses that left no doubt of how he felt and what he wanted. Her arms moved of their own accord, and her hands grabbed two handfuls of his hair and forced his mouth to hers. His lips briefly touched hers, a whisper of a kiss, then he slowly deepened it. As with his touch, the kiss silently spoke of passion and promise. His tongue begged entrance and she eagerly gave it, opening her mouth to him on a sigh. Gentle exploration soon evolved into heated passion. Their tongues slipped and slid together, dancing like snakes in the trance of a snake charmer. Mulder's hands were everywhere; in her hair, at her waist, on her arms, her legs, her breasts. Their moans drowned out the distant rumble of thunder. The kiss broke mutually, both needing to fill their lungs with air before diving in for more. Mulder gently eased her forward in the chair, far enough so he could sit on the ottoman instead of kneeling in front of it. She went willingly, wanting the additional contact the move allowed. His mouth devoured hers again, pulling her tongue between his teeth and sucking like he had done to her toes. Scully shuddered at the thought of what other parts of her body that mouth could latch onto and suckle. Her arousal continued to grow like a wildfire, becoming so hot it threatened to consume her from the inside out. Without warning, Mulder pulled her forward until she fell from the chair onto his lap, her groin landing directly on his. The force of the impact of her body against his, and the feeling of his hardened sex against her oversensitized flesh, was her undoing. What the orgasm lacked in intensity, it more than made up for in the element of surprise. Her startled gasp was smothered against his shoulder as she rode the waves, clinging to him and unconsciously rocking herself against his body. She let herself fly with the drunken feeling of warmth and pleasure until his voice sobered her. "Did you just..." She nodded against his shoulder, embarrassment forcing her to keep her face hidden. "Wow," he said softly. "Damn, I'm good!" She laughed despite her embarrassment, knowing his comment was solely for her benefit. She shifted against him, moving her hips away from his but keeping her head nestled against his shoulder. "You are good, but apparently not *that* good," she replied shakily. "No scream?" "No scream," she mirrored, her voice muffled against his shirt. "I wasn't lying when I said I don't scream, Mulder. I'm sorry to disappoint you." He pulled her hips forward and thrust against her, the steel of his erection nudging her still-sensitive flesh. "Do I *feel* disappointed?" She laughed and shook her head as she tightened her hold on him, letting her fingers feel the warmth of his skin through the thin material of his shirt. His warmth permeated her fingertips and flowed through her body like a river of energy, clearing her head and reawakening her arousal. "No, there's no disappointment here, Scully," he whispered into her hair. "Besides, who says I'm through with you?" Her eyes snapped open. She pulled back to look at his face, finding dark, piercing eyes and a carnivorous smile. "The night is still young," he said in his butter-pecan voice. "This is just a taste of things to come, Scully. I still have plenty of ideas. As you know, I'm a very resourceful man." As his mouth claimed hers, she thought of the numerous times she'd witnessed Fox Mulder's resourcefulness. In their work, he had accomplished amazing feats and defied death in ways that no man should be able to do. But what she had just experienced by his hands was the most amazing. Not only had his touch been so erotic as to send her to a new pleasurable height, he accomplished it while they were both fully clothed. A pleasurable twinge fluttered in her stomach. It was going to be a long night, and she was looking forward to every minute of it. THE END SCREAM III by viXen "So what's next on the game plan, Coach?" Scully asked with a grin. She was still seated on Mulder's lap, her mind fuzzy from release and her lips swollen from their slow, exploratory kisses. "I can't tell you that," he whispered against her lips. "Can't give away the secret plan." "Why? Do you consider me an opponent?" "No, I consider you a challenge." He brushed his mouth over hers briefly. "Speaking of challenges... if you'll stand up, I'll put Plan B into motion." She arched an eyebrow, her curiosity heightened at the mention of a Plan B. Steadying herself with a hand against his shoulder, she stood and waited for him to do the same. A wicked grin formed on her lips as she noticed him readjusting his dress slacks as he stood, angling the material over a painfully obvious erection. "What are you smiling at?" he asked as he pulled her into his arms. Her grin widened. "Nothing." He chuckled against her skin as he placed a kiss on her forehead, then pulled her closer. She could feel how much he wanted her, the physical evidence pressing against her abdomen. She was secretly glad to see him as affected by his seduction as she. A thick mixture of excitement and fear combined with her arousal, the fear stemming from her control slipping away like a twig being helplessly carried down a raging river. The wall of emotional detachment she prided herself in building with such precision and strength was crumbling at her feet as if made of sun-aged mud instead of reinforced steel. All from his touch. She looked at his hands, the main source of his touch, watching them tug at her shirt. Without thinking, she raised her arms to assist him in removing the silk garment. Once the shirt was gone, she focused on his hands again. Long, elegant fingers, soft and tapered. The hands of a musician, she decided, and her body was his instrument. With the right stroke of his fingers, he could create music within her. Depending on his technique, he could make her body taut as a harp string, or resonate like a timpani drum, or soar like the highest notes of a piccolo. And he could make her sing an exquisite aria of moans in a variety of pitches and tambres. With a smile, Scully realized she wanted to do the same to him. She wanted to hear the music of his arousal rising and exploding from him in a symphony of moans and gasps. On a whim, she swiped her tongue at the dimple in his chin and enjoyed the catch of his breath. She nipped at his chin and his reaction was a throaty gasp. She thought about what he would sound like at the peak of ecstasy. Would he moan her name? Would he scream? Her smile grew, as did her need to hear him lose control. The sooner, the better. "You know, you don't need to continue this," she said against his throat, hoping she could move things along. "Continue what?" he whispered. "The seduction thing." He pulled back, concern gently sloping his eyes and furrowing his brow. "You don't like the seduction thing?" Her face softened as she realized he had misunderstood her. Her hand went to his face, her fingers smoothing reassurance into his cheek. "I *love* the seduction thing. I can't remember the last time anyone has done this, has *wanted* to do this for me. I love the thought that you want to seduce me, but this is something we both obviously want. You've already won me over, Mulder. You don't need to keep this up." He pulled her close and pressed his erection into her belly. "Might not be very enjoyable if I don't keep *this* up." "You know what I mean," she said, slapping his chest playfully. "Yeah, I do," he replied with a sly smile. "And what you said makes perfect, rational sense. We both want this and it would be so easy for me to toss you on that bed and bury myself inside you." She shuddered at his words, so raw and honest. So arousing. She pulled herself closer, her fingers combing through his hair and her body pressing tightly against his. His words traveled through her body, melting at her core. She wanted him to give in to the temptation, to join them, to make them become one, to come as one. Now. "But not yet," he continued, his hands cupping her face when he saw the slight downturn of her lips. "This is for *us*, Scully. No one else enters into the picture, no one else can control the situation. It's about damn time we did something for ourselves, something good, something positive." He placed a tender kiss on her lips. "It's just you and me, kid. And I refuse to rush it, especially tonight." In the back of her mind, Scully knew he would be this open and passionate. She saw his passion on a daily basis in their work, and knew it must cross over into his private life as well. But seeing him in the role of the romantic lead for the first time was still a shock to her system. Without thinking, she blurted, "So when did you become such a romantic?" "When I found out you would let me touch you like this." His hand moved to her breast and brushed across her covered nipple. Through the thin satin of her bra, she could feel the light pressure of his fingers as if they were on her naked skin. She leaned into his touch and let her head fall back with a heavy sigh. She was on sensory overload again. How he managed to put her there so quickly she didn't know, and decided it was better to leave it a mystery. While his hands loosened the button on her slacks, she maneuvered the buttons on his shirt. He dropped his arms to his sides and she slid the shirt off his body, letting her hands linger on his arms, feeling the mixture of soft skin, silky hairs and hard muscle. Once his shirt hit the carpet, she pulled at his T-shirt but his hands stilled hers. "Uh, uh. The dress shirt is all you get." "Why?" she asked with a small pout. "Because one of us has to remain clothed or this will be all over too soon. Please, let me do this for you." She looked up at him, meeting his intense gaze. With just one look, she thanked him for his unselfish gesture and gave him full consent to take his seduction in whatever direction he wanted. He smiled with understanding, then added an intoxicating kiss to let her know her message was read loud and clear. "So let me get this straight," Scully said after breaking the kiss. "You get to undress me but I can't undress you." "That's right." Her eyebrow arched. "Doesn't seem fair." "Sorry, Scully. That's the way it has to be. It's all part of the..." "...game plan," she said with him. He laughed and she shook her head. "What is it about men and their sports analogies?" "Hey, sports and sex are two of my favorite pastimes, and two I rarely have the pleasure of participating in." His hands pushed her slacks down her legs, then he hooked his thumbs in her pantyhose and pushed them down in one swift motion. "Let me have my fun and I guarantee you you'll have yours." Scully swallowed her response as Mulder knelt in front of her. He lifted one of her legs to remove her slacks and nylons, then started to lift the other. He chuckled lightly and she opened her eyes to see him holding the shredded leg of her pantyhose. "You owe me a new pair, Mulder." "I'll get you two so I can have one to shred later," he replied in his butter-pecan voice before placing an open-mouthed kiss on her thigh. Her moan traveled through the room, carrying with it her arousal. He kissed her thigh again once, twice, then moved out toward her hip and kissed his way back up her body, taking his time to not only touch but look at every inch of exposed flesh. He stopped near her covered breast and teased her with the moist heat of his breath, never letting his lips touch her. Her nipple hardened and jutted out to reach him, straining against the satin. A low groan escaped her lips before she could stop it. Scully grabbed his head and forced his mouth to hers, roughly plunging her tongue between his lips. She swallowed his moan as she traced the roof of his mouth, the insides of his cheeks and the slippery surface of his tongue. Her lips spoke wordless pleas against his: Seduce me. Take me. Love me. He wouldn't allow her to undress or touch him, but she would find a way to let him know that could change whenever he wanted. She was ready, more than ready, to accept him into her body. She knew he was ready as well, but he had other ideas. Abruptly he broke the kiss, his breathing shallow. "You," he grunted. "Bed." Scully bit back a cave-man comment when she saw his eyes. A flash of lightning had punctuated his last word. Thin strips of light seeping in through the slats on the blinds streaked his face and she could see his pupils had dilated, leaving only thin rims of light brown showing around circles of black. He was beyond aroused, and judging from the grimace on his face, he was having trouble controlling his arousal. "Mulder," she whispered against his lips, "you don't have to..." "On the bed. Now." Scully's eyes widened. Was that a growl? Did he actually *growl* at her to get on the bed? She swallowed as she felt another wave of arousal surge through her body. Her eyes wanted to close but she couldn't tear her gaze from the aroused, growling Mulder standing before her. He eyed her as if she were his prey, waiting for her to surrender to him, allowing him to feed off her body. Finally her eyes cooperated and slid shut, and her mind conjured up a scene where they were in bed, with nothing between them but a bowl of ice cream. The cold liquid was dripped on her body, then quickly lapped up. A drip of liquid, then a swipe of his tongue. Over and over, until every drop of ice cream and every inch of her body had been tasted by him. His hand on her cheek brought her out of her daydream. She smiled at him -- a lazy, content smile with a touch of anticipation -- before lowering herself to the mattress. Her mind whirled through the possibilities of what he had planned. She was still in her bra and panties, but she didn't ask why and made no attempt to remove them. What did he have in mind? She started to lay on her back but he stopped her with a hand to her thigh. "No. On your stomach." That earned him a raised eyebrow and a tip of her head. He really *did* have a Plan B. Just how many 'Plans' did he have? Her curiosity was electrified, like the thunderstorm outside, and it surged when she saw his expression change, the rigidity of his jaw giving way to a soft smile. "Trust me, Scully." He said the magic words. Without further hesitation she turned onto her stomach. She stretched out across the length of the bed, putting her arms under the pillow beneath her head. The bed dipped next to her and she waited, holding her breath without realizing it. She let out a sigh when she felt his hand on the small of her back, the familiar warmth more comforting to her than a favorite sweater. She had never realized how large his hands were until she felt his fingers spread on her back, his hand almost covering the entire distance at her waist. "So soft," he murmured as his hand started to move. He had the touch of a shadow, the slightest hint of pressure on her skin as his hand brushed up and down her back. His other hand rested on her thigh, his fingers lightly kneading her skin. So close to her heat, so close that every time his fingers moved, she prayed they would move a few inches higher to plunge into the sea of desire pooling, waiting for him to discover. She sighed again, a rush of breath and excitement. His touch was the same as before: gentle, comforting, sensual. But the feeling was infinitely more erotic on her bare skin. His hand moved from her thigh and later she felt something around her chest loosen. He had unhooked her bra and pushed the strips of material aside. His hands roamed over her entire back, his range now unobstructed. His touch was so light, just the tips of his fingers, and she had to concentrate on the contact to be sure it was really there. She felt the bed shift around her, then felt his hands move to her upper back near her shoulder blades. He was straddling her, none of his weight resting on her but she could feel the dips in the mattress from his knees resting on either side of her legs. His hands made slow descents, lingering at the dip of her lower back, then moving back to her shoulders. He had increased the pressure, and with it he increased her arousal. With each pass of his hands, he massaged new life into her body. She could feel the pleasurable tension building at a feverish pace, all from his touch. Her entire body moved with each dramatic sweep, pressing into the mattress then arching up like a cat, never wanting to break the contact of his hands on her burning skin. She felt like she was on the ascent of a roller coaster, each movement slowly bringing her closer to the top, closer to the highest point. She tried to concentrate on the light tapping sound of the rain against the window, the ragged sound of his breathing, the soft whooshing sound his hands made against her skin, but she couldn't concentrate. She couldn't think. All she could do was feel. "You like this, don't you?" She managed a "mmm hmmm" as a response. "Good, because I love touching you. With my hands, my mouth..." His lips pressed against one of her shoulder blades and she gasped. He pulled away and the moist remnants of his kiss left a cool tingling on her skin. "Mmmm, so good," he whispered before kissing his way down to her waist. His lips caressed the small of her back, and his tongue jetted out to lap at her spine. His hands pulled at the waistband of her panties and she instinctually lifted her hips in assistance. The panties were quickly whisked away and then his hands were gone. What was he doing? He wasn't touching her, wasn't kissing her. She resisted the urge to look back at him, though the urge was nearly unbearable. Why was he so quiet? Was he looking at her? Trying to decide what to do next? What was he *doing*? Suddenly, she felt a pressure at the top of her thigh and she let out a sigh. One finger, just one, made a circular pattern on her skin just millimeters from where she wanted his touch the most. He made a few lazy circles, then slid his finger away as quickly as it had appeared. She whimpered. He had spread her moisture around on her skin. And on his finger. She heard a sucking sound, then a growl. He was tasting her. He was tasting her on his skin. She matched his growl and raised him a moan. The bed shifted again, his weight dipping just one side of the mattress, telling her he was no longer straddling her but sitting next to her. Then the mattress stilled. For what seemed an eternity, the only movement on the bed was her chest heaving, trying to fill her lungs with air. Agony set in as she waited for his touch. A drug more addictive than alcohol or cocaine, something that once she had experienced, she never wanted to give up. Finally, she felt one hand settle at the small of her back. It moved lower, sliding over the contour of one buttock, moving down her thigh, then up again toward her back via the inside of her thigh. He was teasing her. He was teasing himself as well, if his hissing releases of breath were any indication. He repeated the motion twice then stopped, leaving his hand on her thigh. She waited for his next move, her hands clenching and unclenching under the pillow. The anticipation was a powerful aphrodisiac, intensifying each move once it happened. She gasped as she felt his tongue on her back, near the swell of her hip. It took her a split-second to realize his tongue was tracing the shape of her tattoo. A groan escaped her lips as the image of his tongue dancing around the circle of the oroborous flooded her brain. "You didn't get this for *him*, did you, Scully?" His words rumbled through her skin, the pain evident in his harsh tone. Somehow she found her voice. "No, not for him. For me." "Good." He nipped at the tattoo and she groaned his name, her voice heavy and thick with pleasure. Her moans eclipsed the distant thunder outside. His lips traveled the length of her spine, nipping and kissing at the skin on her back. One hand pushed her hair out of the way and his teeth lightly bit at a tensed cord in her neck. She could feel his entire body stretched out above her. Her hips moved of their own volition, trying to make contact with any part of his body. She made a few direct hits and his moans reverberated against her skin. His breath teased her ear. "Turn over." "Yes." The need in her voice shocked her. She wanted him, her arousal so powerful she was shaking from its force. She rolled over and was immediately met with Mulder's lips upon hers. She moaned into the kiss, grabbing his shirt and trying to pull him down on top of her. He resisted, pulling away from her and breaking the kiss. She opened her eyes to find him above her, on all fours, his hands on either side of her head and his knees straddling her hips. His erection made a comical display of his slacks but she failed to find any laughter in her body. The only thing there was need, an overwhelming, primal need. For him. His hands yanked the loosened bra from her and flung it over his shoulder. She could feel his gaze as it raked over her body, his breath leaving in a 'whoosh' as his eyes found the damp curls at her center. He met her gaze, piercing her soul with his desire-darkened eyes. "Can't wait," he whispered, his voice rough from denied pleasure. "I can't wait to be inside you, to feel you around me." "Then do it," she pleaded. He shook his head. "Not yet." He dipped his head and his tongue caressed the hollow of her throat. "Mulder...please..." "Please what?" His voice was like rich maple syrup covering her skin. "Touch me," she said, her voice barely audible. "I thought that's what I've been doing." She whimpered. Only Mulder could switch from seductive mode to smart-ass mode so effortlessly. He could be the most infuriating man, but his flaws barely registered in her head. She was beyond even token anger. If he wanted her to beg, she would beg. Anything, anything to get him to touch her *there*. "Do you want me to touch you here?" he asked as his fingers brushed over her nipple. He took the hardened pebble and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger. "Yes," she choked out in a gasp. Her back arched as he increased the rolling pressure. "How about here?" His hand moved from her breast to her stomach, his finger dipping into her navel then circling its circumference. "Lower." She sounded miles away, a disembodied voice no longer a part of her. "Lower?" His fingers moved down to tangle in springy reddish-brown curls. "Is here good?" Her head shook from side to side on the pillow. "Lower." "Still lower?" His hand left her, and her eyes snapped open. Their eyes locked, held each other in an unbreakable gaze. "How about here?" She cried out as his forefinger dipped into her arousal, swirling the moisture around her outer lips before plunging inside. Her eyes slid shut and she arched off the bed, seeking more contact. "Oh yeah," he exhaled. "Oh Scully...Jesus..." As his name formed in her throat, his mouth slanted over hers and captured her lips in a fierce kiss. His tongue stroked inside her mouth as his finger stroked inside her body, the combination devastatingly erotic. She was so close, too close to control the waves rising in her body, too close to keep her hips from moving in counter-rhythm with his finger. He roughly broke the kiss, moving his head to her breast. He teased the rosy peak, flicking his tongue back and forth. He took the bud in his teeth, tugging lightly before surrounding it with his mouth. "Mulder...oh...please..." Breath exploded from her lungs in short, sharp gasps as he thrust a second finger inside her, his rhythm quick and insistent. He added his thumb, massaging the hardened bud above her entrance, and she was lost. His fingers coaxed her release like a pianist coaxed music from the ivory keys, caressing, stroking until the passion rose to a startling crescendo. His name leapt from her mouth, enveloped in a long, high-pitched gasp as her body spasmed, clenching his fingers in rhythmic convulsions. Her back arched and her hips rose off the bed, bucking against his hand until her legs gave out and she collapsed to the mattress. Petal-soft kisses caressed her face. She frowned as his fingers slipped from her. He left his sentry above her, rolling on his side and bringing her with him. She settled next to him, her head nestled in the crook of his neck. Strong hands stroked her heated skin as her breathing returned to normal. "You OK?" he whispered against her hair. She sighed her answer, reinforcing it with a lingering kiss to his throat. She rolled onto her back and he repositioned himself on his side, propped up on one elbow. He smoothed the sweat-dampened hairs from her brow. Her eyes fluttered open to see Mulder's face surrounded by light. She blinked twice, then realized the light was coming from the table by the bed. "The electricity. When did it come back on?" "A few minutes ago." His hand brushed against her cheek. "I would have said something but...well, I was busy. So were you." She laughed. "Yeah, I guess we were." She reached for his hand, interlacing her fingers with his, then raised her gaze to his. "That was intense," he said, wonder and desire in his eyes. "You're telling me? I'm still quivering." She gave him a toothy, heart-felt smile. His finger started a journey from her neck down her chest, lightly exploring her flushed skin. "That would have been worth it even if you hadn't screamed." "I didn't." "Oh?" A lopsided grin tugged at one corner of his lips. "From my vantage point, I'd say that was a definite scream." "That wasn't a scream," she said firmly. "Yes, it was." "No, it wasn't." "Yes, it..." "Mulder," she interrupted, exasperation clear in her tone, "that was a gasp, not a scream." His eyebrows shot up. "A gasp? Scully, I've heard you gasp before and that was more than a gasp." "OK, it was a loud gasp..." "An *extremely* loud gasp," he interrupted in a low murmur. "...but it was still... hey, it wasn't *that* loud." A grin flirted with his lips and she mirrored him with her own smile. He leaned down and kissed her lips lightly. "Fine, Scully, if you say so. But don't think I'm giving up that quickly. I still have a few tricks up my sleeve." Her face lit up with the briefest of predatory smiles before she attacked his T-shirt, pulling on it until it untucked itself from his slacks. Once free, the shirt was yanked upward with a force that not only sent the seams straining against the threads, but started a small tear under one arm. Scully barely waited for Mulder to raise his arms before pushing it over his head and tossing it to the floor. "But, Mulder," she said sweetly, "you can't have any tricks up your sleeve. You're not wearing a shirt." He covered his laugh with a growl, then attacked her neck with his teeth, playfully biting the tender skin. His body pressed hers down, pinning her to the mattress. She sighed as his bare chest came in contact with hers. Finally, skin against skin. "You ripped my shirt," he mumbled against her throat. "You'll pay for that." She smiled. "I'm counting on it, Coach." THE END