Title: The Tea
Author: Georgia
Email: Moonrock66@aol.com
Rating: NC-17 
Spoilers: Tooms, Arcadia
Summary: Those who don't learn from the past are doomed to 
repeat it.

Author's Notes: This works equally well as a stand alone or as a 
sequel to my story The Robe. So you don't have to read that one 
first. But thanks to the wonderfully generous Kimberly, it's 
here if you're interested

http://members.xoom.com/hiddengem/therobe.txt

Thanks to Marie for letting me bounce my life as well as this 
story off of her. And to Adriana, for encouraging me when that 
was supposed to be my job. This one's Requiem safe, dear.

---------------------------------

Scully climbed slowly into the car, clutching some photos and a 
paper sack, fighting against the wind to keep her overcoat 
inside before slamming the door. Mulder glanced over at her from 
the driver's seat, his eyes murky with that late hour stake out 
glaze.

Scully smiled to herself, pulling the photos from the envelope. 
She knew how to wake him up.

"I found something," she said confidently, proud of herself. 

"What?" he turned, taking the photos from her, holding them up 
into a bright pocket from the moonlight.

"The skeleton matches a 1933 missing persons photo."

His reaction was not what she expected. He was totally 
unimpressed. Cool. 

"It's not enough. It doesn't tie it to Tooms," he said flatly, 
handing the photos back to her, turning away. 

"Well it's a start," she assured him. A start. 

She moved to stretch out her legs, to get comfortable. But two 
day's worth of coffee cups and fast food bags crunched at her 
feet.

"Mulder it's getting a bit ripe in here, don't you think?"

He reached over to the glove compartment, brushing her knee as 
he went. The contact was brief, but the effect was not lost on 
her. A shiver raced down her spine as his knuckles slid against 
the texture of her pantyhose.

"Pine scented," he advertised, holding up the tree shaped 
freshener for her approval.

A completely thrilled "oooh" and a raised eyebrow was all she 
managed as he swung the freshener under her nose. But her eyes 
followed the tree to the rear view mirror and watched as Mulder 
dangled it there, her gaze flickering ever so briefly to his 
face, lighting momentarily, then hurrying back to the tree 
before Mulder turned away.

He began to rattle on about Tooms, the Phillies, Ba Ba Booey, 
remembering at some point to ask for his sandwich.

"It's liverwurst," she warned, pulling the sandwich from her 
bag.

His hand crept over hers as he took the sandwich, fake smile on 
his face like he thought she was kidding. But he bit into it 
anyway, Scully pulling her hand away from his a little too fast. 
She covered with a well meaning nag.

"Mulder you know that proper surveillance requires two pairs of 
agents. One pair relieving the other after twelve hours."

"Article 30 paragraph 8.7," came his flippant tone, mid-chew.

But she was serious. She would not look away.

"Mulder, this isn't about doing it by the book. This is about 
you not having slept for three days. Mulder, you're gonna get 
sloppy and you're going to get hurt. It's inevitable at this 
point."

Still chewing, unconcerned, "A request for other agents to stake 
out Tooms would be denied. To them we have no grounds."

Her hand crept over the center armrest onto his knee.

"Well then I'll stay here. You go home."

The tremor through his leg was obvious. Still his voice came 
clear and unwavering as he stared blankly out the window, his 
mind seeming miles away.

"They're out to put an end to the X-Files, Scully. I don't know 
why, but any excuse will do. Now I don't really care about my 
record, but you'd be in trouble just sitting in this car."

He paused for a moment, then turned intently to her, eyes 
scouring her face. Her hand still rested lightly on his knee.

"And I'd hate to see you carry an official reprimand in your 
career file because of me."

Her hand fell away from his knee, his meaning obvious. Mulder 
looked down, assuming they were done. Her voice went through him 
like a static charge.

"Fox..."

His laugh was too uncomfortable to be as casual as he intended.

"I even made my parents call me Mulder," he said shaking his 
head. "So...Mulder," he murmured turning back to the window.

The little shock he felt before became a rippling jolt.

"Fox," she repeated almost defiantly, in a low near whisper. 

His head snapped around to meet her gaze, angry, wondering if he 
was being mocked.

"I don't like that," he stuttered. "I told you..."

"Fox," her voice came sweeter, louder this time as her hand 
circled back onto his knee. "I wouldn't put myself on the line 
for anyone but you."

"Scully," he said shaking his head, trying to convince her. But 
her hand continued to circle, now in deeper, gripping strokes. 
He looked around like he was trying to avoid the moment, trying 
to think of some way out. But the warmth of her hand soaked into 
his knee, sending his pulse from erratic into a hard, pounding 
throb that rushed through his ears. His eyes locked on hers, 
unflinching, until his sandwich was tossed carelessly on the 
dashboard, his hand reaching over to drag her face to his.

Their lips met roughly, the only sound her quick gasp for air 
before his mouth closed over hers. 

The intensity was more than they expected, unstoppable, as again 
and again his lips crushed hers, tugging, sucking, marking a 
claim. A fight against reason at first, soon their mouths moved 
of their own free will, untethered, cut loose from their shocked 
bodies, from their dissenting minds.

"Oh God," he managed in a quick breath, pushing the damp twists 
of hair from her face

"Shh," she whispered against his bottom lip. 

As her lips slipped back around the softness of his lower mouth, 
her hand climbed quickly off his knee, assaulting Mulder's 
rational mind from every direction. Overload came when her hand 
settled in his lap, Mulder's groan beginning in surprise, 
finishing with a whimper.

"Sc-u-lly," came the word with choked effort.

"F-o-x," she breathed, teasing him, drawing out the syllables 
against his ear.

His hands came up in defense. Part of him had no idea why he was 
fighting her, some other part just sure that he should.

"Scully," this time almost resolute, a warning, he attempted to 
push her away.

She would not be moved.

"Fox," she tried one more time, leaning back for his ear, taking 
the lobe into her mouth.

As she must have predicted, the fifth time was the charm. Mulder 
never did anything by the book.

Under her tongue, Mulder's head flew back against the headrest, 
his ear slipping from Scully's grasp. When her mouth found his 
neck, all resistance was gone.

His arms pulled her against him, caressing as gently as he was 
capable down her back, smoothing over her hips, onto the hose 
covered flesh of her thighs. Her lips continued to dance over 
his neck, over the skin under his open collar. His hands found 
their way inside her coat, under her hem, cupping her soft 
curves, her skirt sliding up politely out of his way.

The thud of her shoes hitting the floor surprised him. He met 
her eyes expecting there to be some doubt, some visible nerves. 
But they had never been more still, more certain. He might even 
say they changed colors to demanding when her hands shoved her 
coat off her shoulders, then fell to her own waist, working 
against the wadded up skirt to find the waistband of her 
pantyhose. 

As she began to roll them down, his hands stilled hers, his 
fingers melting down between her smaller ones. He caught the 
brief grin on her face, then watched as her eyes closed, his 
hands brushing under her pantyhose and down her legs, pulling 
the nylon with him.

Mulder tried to be slow, seductive, tried to tease her skin 
without tickling. He used his whole hand, fingers spread wide, 
fingertips trailing lightly, palms warm and firm. Scully sat 
perfectly still, eyes closed, but every shaky breath she tried 
to suppress was noted.

When he reached her ankles, she leaned down to impatiently pull 
the hose from her feet, tossing them to the floor beside her 
shoes and coat. Mulder wanted to work his magic on her feet, had 
intended on having her in the palm of his hand. He knew about 
that little g-spot on the bottom of the foot. But Scully had 
other ideas.

His hands fell abruptly to his side as Scully pushed him back 
against the seat, her full weight coming to rest in his lap as 
she straddled him.

For some reason Mulder chose this moment to remember where they 
were.

"Tooms..." he half grunted.

"Um hum," was her only reply. Her lips sealed his mouth, her 
hips grinding into him, attempting to lure him into silence. It 
worked for about twenty seconds. Long enough for him to catch 
his breath and for his hand to find its way between them.

She gasped as his fingers circled less than gently over the 
heated silk of her panties.

His grin was a little smug.

"I like your interpretation of Article 30. Paragraph 8.7."

"Mulder," came her voice, deeper than usual, Mulder you're 
pissing me off tone unmistakable.

"What happened to Fox?" he kidded, fingers drifting beneath the 
silk.

Scully's head dipped back, the steering wheel giving her little 
room to maneuver. Under a heavy hazel gaze, his touches 
continued, stroking, burning, soft sighs falling from her lips 
until she could stand no more.

Her hands came down shaky, but determined on his, prying herself 
off his lap. Before Mulder could doubt her intentions, Scully 
tugged the silk from her waist, her underwear falling to her 
knees as she knelt on the car seat. With a quick lift of each 
knee, she reached behind and pushed the last barrier to the 
floor.

The amusement in Mulder's eyes didn't last long. He knew he was 
a lucky man. But in less time than it took for his brain to 
register it, Scully had unzipped his pants and had him in her 
hands.

The sudden swallow that racked his chest changed the temperature 
in the car, the humidity of fogged windows turning into a 
dripping, hard to breath sauna.

"Jesus Christ," he spit through gritted teeth, the soft but 
unraveling strokes of her hands sending him too far too fast. 
"God, would it have been this good then?"

She stopped abruptly, looking up to meet him with tender eyes. 
Her head cocked in an unspoken question, his hand coming up once 
again to brush the tendrils from her face.

"No," she said simply, brushing a kiss just aside his mouth and 
easing back into his lap.

He seemed to nod in agreement, almost convinced. Their gaze 
burned a moment longer until his arms pushed under her legs, 
raising her into the air, off his lap, her hands supporting her 
body against his shoulder.

"Why not?" he challenged, lowering her back into position, one 
hand coming down to guide himself inside her.

"Auh," was her initial reply. "Because," she finally got out, 
sinking into his lap, her body absorbing streams of pleasure. 
"We didn't know each other then," she said hips lifting, barely 
pausing against the need to fall again.

"We certainly didn't know each other like this," he smirked, 
until she clenched around him in response.

His breath came out in a hot blast against her chest. "No fair, 
Scully," he finally recovered, not missing the effect his warm 
breath was having on her body.

The force of his torso surprised Scully, both of them barely 
noticing the blaring horn as Mulder pressed her into the 
steering wheel. His mouth fell to her neck, Scully's hands 
stroking softly into his hair, moving her body ever so slightly 
to silence the honking noise.

"Say it?" he almost questioned, mouth sinking to cover her 
breast through the thin layers of her shirt and bra.

"Fox," she sighed, feeling the tremor go through him.

She shifted her hips, unable to get much leverage, his deep 
chested grunt, telling her he was losing it. Somehow he managed 
to work his fingers between them, stroking lightly, knowing what 
it would take, how she liked it, despite his own desperation. 

She arched against him. "Mulder, let me. That's what you 
wanted," she reminded him, shivering as he took his hand away, 
relenting, leaning back in the seat. Slowly, Scully moved 
against him, starting a torturous rhythm, rocking into him, 
sending his face into her shoulder, his mouth opening against 
the tendons in her neck.

The car went out of focus then, becoming a blur, as she rose, 
sinking faster, rising as slowly as she could manage, to slam 
back into him again.

The grip on her hips tightened, Scully recognizing the signs of 
his coming release. Her own snuck up on her, the tense position 
of her legs masking the fast racing sensation. One last thrust 
was all it took. 

Scully cried out some almost intelligible word that seemed to 
start like Mulder and end like Fox.

"Mu...Fox," she panted, her muscles and voice more than enough 
to send Mulder's body racing. Her own name crashed against her 
ear, his body tensing, his breath almost catching in his throat.

For a few sweet minutes, they stayed wrapped together, letting 
their bodies revel in the moment, dancing together in another 
world as they quietly stilled in this one.

Soon aching back muscles couldn't be ignored any longer, and she 
slid off him, pulling her skirt down, curling into his side.

"What else you got in that bag?" he teased, wrapping her in his 
arms.

She reached for the bag at her feet without a word, pulling out 
a single can which she studied for a long moment.

"Root beer," she finally announced, eyes flickering up to meet 
his.

Mulder looked at her puzzled, his mind running over the past 
conversation, eyes swimming with a sad confusion, telling her he 
didn't get it. Then finally a spark.

"Fate?"

One corner of her mouth turned up, as she answered with a nod, 
"Then it was just root beer, Mulder. The iced tea came later."

He kissed her gently, words of love and gratefulness passing 
between them.

"I'm glad we got both," he whispered as she settled back against 
his chest.

"Me too...Fox," she couldn't resist.

"The next fantasy's yours," he prompted, pulling her coat off 
the floor to cover them.

She stared out the windshield, the night around them dark, the 
moonlit, country road silent. Her breathy laugh finally broke 
through the stillness.

"Got something in mind?" he asked with a smile.

"Nothing worthy of your video collection."

"Try me," he assured her, his hands drifting softly through her 
hair.

"Rob and Laura Petrie," she kind of mumbled, attempting to turn 
away. But he grabbed her shoulders, the smile on his face 
electric.

"I knew you wanted to play house," he shook his head, amused 
with her.

The quick grin that stole across Scully's face was up to the 
challenge.

"Mulder, what you didn't know," she paused turning the keys in 
the ignition, "is that the mask I was wearing, it's edible."

end.
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moonrock66@aol.com