Title: Volition Unbound (1/6) Author: Rachel Anton E-Mail: RAnton1013@aol.com Rating: NC-17 Category: S/A/MSR Content Warning: This story has a slight bit of a Scully/other warning. It's not much but it's an important part of the story. Spoilers: Never Again, general feeling of season 5 Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully do not belong to me. They are the intellectual property of Chris Carter, Fox, David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson Summary: The return of a man from Scully's past forces her to make some decisions. Archive: Okay anywhere as long as my name is attached I hate planes. Most people do but I hate them to the degree that I am physically ill every time I know I'll be on one in a few hours. Needless to say I am physically ill quite often. This morning it was a moderate case of the dry heaves. It was six am and Mulder was pounding impatiently on my door as I wretched air into the toilet bowl. I'm sure he assumed I was picking out an outfit or some other foolishness. He has no idea how much I hate planes. I look over to him. He is sleeping. Actually sleeping. I think the only time he gets any rest is on these plane trips. He has created an obstacle course for the stewardess to maneuver, which she does with an irritated grimace. His long legs are splayed out into the aisle in every direction. His arms are folded over his lap and his head is resting on the side of my head rest. The speakers on his Walkman are blaring in my ear. He needs the noise to sleep. I can make out a few words. I think it's The Doors. Very loud. He is snoring. Also very loud. He has been like this for over and hour. Ever since we took off. I hate planes. I hate planes with Mulder on them even more than other planes. I look, for the first time, at the case file that was urgent enough to rouse me from a Saturday morning sleep and bring me to this flight from hell. The next big thing. The monster of the day. There are times when I am very excited by my work. There are times when I am minimally excited and Mulder's passion and enthusiasm draw me in. I can tell this is not going to be one of those times. Apparently there is some beastman devouring people whole in some town near Denver. Some skeletons have been discovered with human teeth marks on them. The locals seem to think it's Bigfoot. So does Mulder apparently. I skim the reports disinterestedly and pick at my Pan Am issue chicken salad. I don't eat the chicken. It scares me. Mulder shifts in his sleep and his head drops onto my shoulder as his legs project further into the aisle. He is slowly reclining. Soon he will be completely horizontal with his head in my lap and his legs practically out the window on the other side of the plane. Then he will wake up flustered and confused, apologize, sit up, take off his Walkman, and complain that he missed the food service. Sometimes he is more predictable than the phases of the moon. Sometimes he is a complete mystery. I suppose the moon is a mystery as well. Mulder is the moon. He would be happy to hear me say that I'm sure. I shake my head trying to rattle out the whimsical thoughts that have invaded it and look back to the file. I scan the list of names. People involved with the case. Local sheriff, witnesses yadda yadda. Sometimes there is a funny name and I can amuse myself with it as a distraction from the rumbling of the engines under me. How would my life be different if I was named Frosty Glass? Or Chanda Leer? Don't laugh. Those are real names. Mulder is sliding. He will be in my lap soon. And I will have to pretend I don't care, pretend I don't even notice. Either that or throw some flirtatious innuendo his way. Depends on my mood. Depends on whether or not I want to throw him for a loop. I think today I will ignore it. Just as his head plops down on my right thigh and the familiar flush fills me at the contact I notice something unusual. Something so unusual that I don't even respond when he nuzzles against my leg and sighs. So unexpected that when he wakes up, when he doesn't move, when he looks up at me and smiles, I barely even register the change in the routine. I am in shock you see. Absolute shock. I am trying. I really am. I want to surprise her. I want to shock her. I'm not sure why. Some strange horny little demon in me has decided not to let me move my head from the warm nestle of her lap. Of course the day I decide to play she is utterly engrossed in something else. The file. She is holding it up and it's almost completely covering her face. Either she is hiding from me or she's really interested in this case. The stewardess taps my leg, seeing that I am awake. She wants me to move. I have no choice. I rise from the lap of my dreams and take off my Walkman. She is still reading. She hasn't even looked at me. I look closely at her face to determine whether she is ignoring me on purpose or if she is really reading. She is staring at the page with confusion and curiosity. I am uncharacteristically jealous of the case. What is she so damn interested in? Some beastman? How is that more exciting than my head between her legs? "Anything you'd like to share with the class Miss Scully?" She looks at me. Finally. She is frowning. "The medical examiner. On this case. Jonas Hawkins...are you...are you sure that's right?" Sure that's right? What the hell is she talking about? I have no idea why this would matter to her. Unless she knows him. "Pretty sure Scully. I mean I didn't double check or anything but..why do you ask?" She looks frightened. Then falsely dismissive. "Oh it's nothing. I just um..I just think I know him that's all." She knows him. Okay, so what? There must be more to it than that. "Where from?" "From uh...from medical school. From uh...we uh...we knew each other." What the hell does that mean? Why is she so damn uncomfortable? I know I shouldn't push it but I need to know. What is she hiding? Why is this more interesting than me? Okay I know this is childish. But I really went out on a limb back there. A limb for me anyway. It's not too often that I take a risk like that with Scully. And any reaction, any at all, would have been more satisfying than this. "Were you friends? Were you close?" She shakes her head and shoves the file into the briefcase under her seat. It is a long laborious process and gives her an excuse to avoid talking to me for a few minutes. She is really freaked. Of course this makes me even more persistent. "You weren't close? Did you dislike each other or something? Is he a bad doctor? Do you think he's untrustworthy?" Why do I hope that she does think just that? "Mulder it's nothing. Just drop it okay?" She is annoyed. Now I've really gotta know. I've touched a nerve. This guy is a nerve. Why? "Scully if it has to do with the case you need to tell me. I mean if it's going to effect your judgment or something..." "It's not." End of story. She looks out the window. She never looks out the window on a plane. "Well it might. It might be important Scully." She turns to me. She's angry now. "Mulder it might not even be the same person. In fact it's probably not. Just forget it." "It's probably the same person. He's a doctor right? And it's an unusual name. You should probably..." "We dated Mulder. Okay? We dated. That's all." Dated? They dated. Okay. That's okay. Of course. She's a beautiful woman. She had a life before she met me. So she dated some dork in med. school. A few dates. I can deal with this. I will deal with this. I try to mask any kind of emotion. Best poker face I can manage. "Really? For how long?" She stares straight ahead at the back of the seat in front of her. She won't look at me anymore. "A while." "What's awhile?" Why won't I stop? Why can't I stop? "Just awhile. A couple years." Deep breath. Twiddle thumbs nonchalantly. I can deal with this. I will deal with this. Why the hell don't I know about this? "Couple years huh? That's a loooong time Scully. What happened? How come no little forensic pathologists?" Why did I say that? What the fuck is wrong with me. I swear I wasn't even thinking about it. I swear to the Gods above I was not trying to be mean. Sometimes I just forget. Just for a millisecond. God why am I such a dumb fuck? Somehow she doesn't even seem to notice. She is just staring. No expression. "It just..it didn't work. That's all." I cut my losses. I will not ask her anything else. I have become incapable of monitoring my thoughts before they ooze from my mouth and I am actually afraid of what I will say next. Maybe I will pretend to sleep again until we arrive. Don't think I'll be trying the lap trick again today though. Mulder is annoyed. He is jealous. He is acting like a bitch. Already. I can't believe this. The plane is landing and he isn't even looking at me. Never mind holding my hand the way he sometimes does when he can tell I am afraid. It's not that I need him to. Hell I don't even want him to but it's pissing me off for some reason. We haven't even started the case yet, haven't even seen Jonas yet. We still don't even know if it's the same guy and he is giving me an attitude. Is it because I refused to talk to him about it? Does he feel like I am shutting him out? You know what, I don't really care. I have enough to worry about right now without catering to his childish fit. We land and I wince as the wheels hit the ground. This is the worst part. He's still listening to his damn Walkman and staring blatantly at the stewardess's ass. God I hate him sometimes. It makes me even angrier than it would if he actually found her attractive to know that he is doing it just to piss me off. He is so transparent it's embarrassing. Is it my fault that we have to work with Jonas? Did I ask for this? No certainly not. In fact I am dreading it. Not only is it likely to be extremely awkward for me to see him again, it looks like dealing with Mulder is going to be difficult to say the least. It's finally time to get off the damn plane and Mulder gets up without a look or a word and starts rifling through the overhead. His bag is stuck. He tugs at it angrily. Soon it is going to fall on his head. I will try not to laugh. Sure enough before long all the bags, his, mine, about four or five other passengers', fall to the floor and on top of him. He grumbles angrily and rifles through them trying to find his bag. He retrieves it and stalks off the plane leaving the rest on the floor. What a gentleman. He doesn't even wait for me. I am left waiting for every passenger on the plane to find their luggage in his mess. When I finally exit the plane I can't even find him. Ditched at the airport. I suppose he has gone to get the rest of the luggage. I go to the rental car window and do my usual task. I rent a small car. He will have to squeeze his huge legs to fit in it. I lean against the wall after I'm done and wait for him to show up. As the minutes pass I try to remember times when I have been jealous. I remember a time when Mulder's ex came to visit. Was I like this? No, if I remember correctly I was gracious and even more protective towards him than usual. Not that he even noticed. Of course that was a long time ago. Mulder hasn't even glanced at another woman in my presence for over a year now. Well except for the stewardess just now. I chose not to count that little display. How would I react now? Certainly not the way he is behaving. And he hasn't even seen us together. I've given him no cause to think I am even remotely interested in Jonas anymore. What the hell is his problem? He finally meets me after about a half an hour. He is carrying our bags and a cup of coffee. Nice to know he took some time to get aquatinted with the place while I rotted here. "You get the car?" I hand him the keys as a response. He looks at them like they are the most offensive thing he has ever seen. "A Geo?" "It was all they had." He sighs dramatically. "Well lets go then." He drops my bags at my feet and stomps away. The drive to the motel proves to be as pleasant as the plane ride. He turns the car stereo up and chews a stick of gum like a cow. He won't talk to me or look at me and he's driving too damn fast. This can't be simple jealousy. It must be the fact that I wouldn't tell him what he wanted to know. Now he will be cross throughout the entire case until I tell him. Never mind the fact that I don't want to talk about it. Minor details like that don't matter in Mulder's self-centered little world. I feel my resolve slipping. I am about to give in. I would rather talk about it then put up with his petulance for an undetermined amount of time. "He asked me to marry him." He turns to me and snaps his gum. He looks at me like I have interrupted a very important thought. "Oh really?" He turns back to the road with phony nonchalance. "Yeah really. I said yes. And then I said no. I changed my mind. I wasn't ready. I was only twenty four. So that's why we broke up." He smirks like he thinks this is funny. "Poor guy. Exactly how many hearts have you broken Scully?" What the fuck? What the fuck does that mean? It's not that I'm shutting him out. It is just jealousy. Or something else. I don't know. I can't figure him out on this one. I am tired of trying. Things are going very badly. I don't know what's wrong with me. As we drive from the motel to the coroner I replay a single mantra in my head. I will not be a jerk. I will not be a jerk. I will not be a jerk. I have a feeling it's not going to work. He is going to be there. He. The man Scully almost married. The man I had never even heard of until a few hours ago. She almost married someone. How could she have kept that from me? How could I not know about that? If I had known I might have been able to prepare myself for this moment. I might have known what to do. What to say. We pull up to the building and I feel an overwhelming sense of dread. I actually feel sick to my stomach. Scully walks about a foot behind me when we get inside. She doesn't look too enthusiastic about this either. She is upset about it. For some reason this makes me more jealous than if she had been excited to see him. You get excited when you're gonna see an old friend. You get upset when you're going to see an old wound. Why did I think all her wounds had heeled because of me the way mine have because of her? How could I have been so stupid? We reach the door and I almost bolt. I cannot do this. There must be something else I need to do. I look back at her with my hand on the doorknob. She looks green. She nods at me impatiently. She wants to get this over with. I want to go home. I open the door. There are two men standing over a half eaten corpse. One of them is at least sixty. That can't be him. One of them is a tall, muscular looking black guy who looks to me like Denzel freaking Washington. That can't be him either. The guy Scully was going to marry..he's a skinny, awkward, loser. Like me. Except even more geeky. Not some guy who looks like a movie star. Not some guy who looks like he could kick my ass with his hands tied behind his back. I feel relieved for a brief blissful moment. It's not him. He's not here. Scully comes in behind me and walks past me. "Jonas?" The black guy turns around. Okay so he's Jonas. Not the same one though. Please God don't let it be the same one. He looks at her for a moment. The look on his face tells me all I need to know. He knows her. He is surprised, then elated. Oh God. "Dana Scully?" They stare at each other for a moment. He is dumfounded, she is shy. She is SHY. Her hands are behind her back and she is sort of twirling her foot around nervously. She looks like a kid. "My God it is you. Dana Scully." He walks to her and grabs her around the waist. He hugs her. He picks her up and twirls her around in the fucking air. I am going to throw up. Any second now. God help me. She is hugging him back. Her arms are wrapped around his neck and she is smiling. She is laughing as he spins her around. I wish I'd brought that bag from the plane. I look around for something, anything else to think about. There's the body. And the old guy. He looks vaguely uncomfortable. It is a strange scene. The two of them hugging like that over a mangled corpse. It's actually disgusting. Offensive. I clear my throat trying to get their attention. Trying to make it stop. He finally puts her down and steps back from her. His arms are still on her waist. He's still fucking touching her. "Dana you look amazing. What are you doing here?" She's still touching him. Her hands are on his arms. I have to actually bite my tongue. Hold down my fists. All I can think is "Get your fucking hands off her". "I'm here to work on this case." I'm here. She was here. What about me? I'm here. "You are? Are you the FBI doctor they sent?" She nods happily. Why is she still touching him? He shakes his head in disbelief. Yeah what a fucking coincidence. We're all so moved. Must be fucking fate. He moves away from her and takes his damn hands off her waist and turns to the old guy. "This is doctor Gibson our county coroner. Doctor Gibson this is an old friend of mine. Dana Scully." He says her name with reverence. Almost worship. I hate him. Scully shakes the doctor's hand and I sit there like a lump on a log. She looks over to me as an afterthought. Yeah Scully I still exist. Nice of you to notice. "Oh um..this is my partner. Agent Mulder." He turns to me and shakes my hand. Tells me his stupid name. Like it isn't burned into my skull already. His grip is tight. His hand is huge. I hate him. We all stand around the body looking at each other awkwardly for a second. Can he tell that she is mine? Can he see the claim I stake just by looking at her? I hope so. "So what have you got here?" Scully speaks. She puts on a pair of goggles and surgical mask. Getting ready for work. He puts his matching set on and they move close to the body. Gibson takes off. He has other things to take care of. Great. Just the three of us. One big happy family. I sit on a stool in the corner of the room. They start cutting and carving and taking pictures of innards. I sit and watch like a useless dunce. "So how did you end up here Dana? Investigating weird stuff like this? Thought you were gonna be a sections chief by now." Damn him. Damn him to hell. I see her eyes above her mask. I try to meet them with my own. Please Scully. Please tell him you want to be here. She avoids my gaze and looks down at a pile of intestines they are removing. "Um..I'm not really interested in the FBI hierarchy Jonas. I'm happy with my work. It's um...very interesting." Thank you. Thank you God. So there. She's happy. Any more questions asshole? "Well that's terrific. I'm happy for you." Fucking bastard. "This is strange." She's holding a pile of mush. I try to see what she's so interested in but it just looks like the usual innards to me. "Yeah that's why I called you. That's what made me think these murders are related." They put the mush on a scale, under a microscope, examine it from every angle. What the hell is it? They are talking a language I don't understand. I can't follow anything they are saying. She's not even bothering to translate. He takes another blob of mush out of the freezer and plops it down next to the other one. They start comparing the blobs. From what I can gather they are matching organs from two different bodies. They have some kind of markings on them. "See if you look closely you can see that they're astrological symbols. Taurus and Gemini. I've got an Aries in the freezer too." She looks fascinated. Astrological symbols? Whatever. "Remember the zodiac killer?" She nods. She looks completely convinced. Yeah zodiac killer. That would explain the human teeth marks. "Mulder you should look at this." She beckons me over to look at the blobs. I look in the microscope. There are some markings. They look like burns. I don't see any astrological symbols though. Not that I'm looking too carefully. "That's interesting but what do you think about the teeth marks on the bones?" I ask her. He answers. "Well that's certainly the strangest thing about all this. Some folks seem to think that we're dealing with some kind of man eating beast or something equally ridiculous. But these markings show that this is being done by someone with enough intelligence and advanced motor skills to brand his victims with a very specific symbol. I've been thinking maybe what we're looking at is some kind of cult activity. Maybe some kind of human sacrifice." Cannibalistic astrological cults? Yeah that's plausible. "That does sound more likely than Bigfoot. Don't you think Mulder?" That's Scully. "Bigfoot?" He laughs. "You must have gotten that from Gibson. He's um..a little nuts for that Bigfoot theory. Lots of people around here are." "Well maybe there's a reason for that. I tend to find that people usually don't believe in something like that completely randomly. If a lot of the citizens in this town think there's something to that theory we shouldn't dismiss it so flippantly." He shakes his head. "Mister Mulder a lot of people around here believe in a lot of ludicrous things. It's a small town. People tend to make things up. Out of boredom more than anything else. You know how rumors spread when people are bored and frightened." "But.." "Mulder the markings." "Scully I don't see any damn markings. It just looks like random burns to me." I didn't mean that to come out so harshly. I really didn't. "Mulder have you even bothered to look?" Damn her. Of course I looked. I'm just not hallucinating like the two of them. "Even if it is random burns, which seems unlikely, why would an animal burn the innards of its human victim?" That was Jonas. Could have been Scully. It's getting damn hard to tell the two of them apart. I think part of me realizes that they are right. That my theory is evaporating before my eyes. But that part of me is overshadowed by the other parts of me. The defensive, territorial parts. I realize that I cannot be here any more. That this is a waste of time. They aren't going to listen to me so fine. Whatever. I'll just leave. Then again...I look at the two of them huddled over their specimen about an inch between them...is it better to leave them alone together and end the torture of watching this or is it better to stay and keep them from getting too close? A few seconds later and there is no contest. I cannot watch. "Scully I'm gonna take off. I want to do some research. See if there's any connection between the victims." Yeah that sounds good. A nice logical thing to do. Not about to tell these two that I'm planning on going to the woods to look for Bigfoot droppings. She nods absently. She doesn't even care. I don't want to leave her here. I can't stay. End part 1 of 6 Title: Volition Unbound (2/6) Author: Rachel Anton E-mail: RAnton1013@aol.com see part one for disclaimer, summary etc. "Um your partner seems a little....cranky". Cranky. That is the understatement of the universe. He spent the entire time here sulking in the corner and his only words were belligerent. He even slammed the door on the way out for good measure. He is beyond cranky. I don't even know how to describe what he is. We finish the autopsy and scrub up together It is time for me to go. Why don't I? "So Dana, what have you been doing with yourself?" He means besides all this. Besides work and my cranky partner. I have no answer. This is it for me. "Um not too much. How about you?" "Oh you know. Just life and stuff. Hey um..what are you doing later tonight? Thought maybe we could have a drink and really catch up." Oh God. What am I doing later tonight? Probably eating take out in my room and arguing with Mulder some more. For some reason this seems utterly unappealing at this moment. "Yeah. I guess..I guess that would be okay." I give him the telephone number at the hotel and tell him to give me a call later. What am I doing? What the hell am I doing? Do I really want to get these old feelings stirred up again? Is this a good idea at this point? I tell myself that it's not a big deal, that it's not a date. It's just catching up with an old friend. But I know it's more than that. And I know Mulder will see it as more than that. Not that I should be counting Mulder's opinion for much at this point. He seems to have completely lost any trace of rationality. But I can't help feeling slightly guilty for accepting his invitation. I know it's going to hurt Mulder's feelings. I am not interested in hurting his feelings as much as he is annoying me today. There have been times when I have wanted to make him jealous, to get his attention, make him think of me as a woman and not just his partner. There have also been times when I have felt like teasing him, stirring his curiosity and ire just for fun. This really is not one of those times. I have his attention. I have so much of his attention lately that it's almost too much. It's almost stifling. Funny how these things can backfire on you. About a year ago I was desperate for Mulder's affection. I was actually jealous of the obsessive energies he devoted to his quest, his work. I thought he was taking me for granted. I thought his goals were swallowing us both and that my obsession with him was leaving me completely empty and dissatisfied. I thought I would never get back what I gave. That I could never be the focus of his life the way he was of mine. So I went and I slept with someone else. Well, not really but I let Mulder believe that I had. Nice mature response I know. I was just so damn sick of him thinking of me as boring old reliable Scully. Scully who has nothing better to do than be his personal secretary, to be at his beck and call 24 hours a day. And yes, to show him that some people actually do find me attractive even if he is not one of them. A year ago I would have almost been happy about running into Jonas this way. I might have seen it as an opportunity to show Mulder a thing or two. To get him back for all the bimbos named after forest creatures and the emaciated cult members. Not anymore. I'm not sure if it was Ed Jerse or the cancer or the things we learned when he faked his death or something else entirely but somewhere along the way I became the focus of Mulder's obsessive energies. I sensed the shift in him a long time ago. But I was sick. I thought the end was right around the corner and I almost resented him for his feelings. I thought it was too late. I think maybe he did too and that's why he started to let things slip. Then I got better. It wasn't too late anymore. And we have been floundering in this strange place ever since. He needs me. He wants me. He loves me. He worships and adores me. I know these things now as sure as I know that I feel them for him. The feelings between us are so strong and so obvious and yet so repressed that I am slowly suffocating under the force. Sexual tension has become sexual strangulation. Flirtation has become almost cruel. And yet we continue, we continue and we increase the torture because sooner or later one of us is going to reach the breaking point. I think both of us are trying to force the other one to snap. It is a strange dance. I think that I have been the more brazen one but Mulder has certainly surprised me once or twice. The point is I no longer need his jealousy as validation. I have seen his jealousy, his deep, painful jealousy, and it is not a pretty sight. I have seen how desperately he needs me. It may sound arrogant to say that he can barely function without me but I know this to be true as well. Most men can't without their wives. And that is what I have become to Mulder. A wife without conjugal privileges. So why did I say yes to Jonas? Why did I give him my phone number and agree to go out with him tonight? I try to figure this out as I ride to the hotel in the back of the cab. Yes the cab. Mulder ditched me at the morgue and forgot to mention he was taking the Geo. God only knows where he really went and when he will decide to return. So I called a cab. Why did I say yes? I don't want to hurt Mulder. And seeing Jonas made me realize that the feelings I had for him once are more or less gone. He is very attractive, very intelligent, very kind. But I don't love him. Not any more. I never loved him the way I love Mulder. So why? What am I trying to accomplish here? Perhaps it is just the fact that I could never say no to that man. I don't know what it is about him but I never felt comfortable refusing him anything. In retrospect I think that's why I accepted his proposal in the first place. And now I've gotten myself into a hell of a situation. What am I going to tell Mulder? I can already imagine the way he'll look when he hears about this. I can see the wounded animal in his eyes. My irritation at him starts to melt away. He's acting like a jack ass because he loves me. Even if he is still too scared to do anything about it. I did not want to end up this way. I have done everything in my limited power to avoid it. A lovesick moron wandering around the woods, looking for Bigfoot. Not because I care about Bigfoot mind you. If I did this might not seem so pathetic. No I really don't care that much at all. The only reason I am out here is because I am desperate to prove myself to her. To show her that I was right and he was wrong and that I am not a complete fool. How did I end up here? When she first walked into my life I saw the potential for this. I knew the minute I saw her that if I wasn't careful I was going to fall in love with her. So I was careful, Lord how I was careful. I added rock and mortar to the walls already covering my heart and whenever part of her managed to seep through the cracks I would rebuild immediately. And it worked. Almost. Until she disappeared. Until I realized that she had become as integral to my survival as air or water. That without her I was nothing, an empty shell of a man. When she was returned to me I tried to rebuild those walls. But too much damage had been done. She was in there. I tried to expel her by thinking about other women. Thinking about the work. Thinking about anything but her. I even tried to get her to hate me. To push her away and take her for granted but give just enough so that she wouldn't leave me. I needed her there you see. But I couldn't handle her trying to get closer to me. But that didn't work either. I couldn't keep it up for long. And no matter how far off the deep end I went she was always right there, helping me through to the other side. But I still didn't let her completely inside. There was enough to distract me, enough to keep me focused on other things, at least some of the time. Then she went and did...that. I can't even en make myself think of it. She went and scared the living daylights out of me. She showed me what would happen if I kept treating her like office furniture. She showed me what she could do, what she could be without me. And she took away the aura of saintliness, of untouchability that surrounded her. She planted the image in my head and I let myself really see it for the first time. This is when the dreams started. It might be surprising to know that I don't really fantasize about Scully. I can't. I just...can't. True her name is always on my lips every time I reach orgasm. It is her face I see. But I never have actual fantasies about her. Not conscious ones anyway. I don't allow it. But the dreams, God the dreams have been haunting me for over a year now. Dreams in which I make love to her in every way, every place and time imaginable. Dreams in which I watch her masturbate. Sometimes if I am feeling particularly bad about myself, dreams in which I watch other people make love to her. Because I am not good enough. Because I am not allowed to touch her. And after the dreams started she got sick. And I realized what I had been wasting all along. What I was about to lose. And I let everything in. I let her become the focus of my existence. All that mattered to me was that she get better. And then she did. Suddenly and miraculously she did. And I realized that I couldn't go back. There was no way for me to take those feelings and shove them back inside. There was also no way for me to act on them. So here I am, a lovesick moron. And an impotent one at that. I cannot even allow myself to fantasize about the woman I love. How could I ever let myself make love to her. Not that she is likely to want that anyway. But I have been happy regardless. I have been riding on the high of seeing her get better for months now. And she has seemed relatively happy as well. Things have been good, if somewhat strange between us. Until today. Until him. Until I realized once again how easy it is for me to get hurt by her. How completely she holds the key to my heart, my soul, my sanity in her hands. I cannot go on this way. I kick a tree in frustration. I will not go on this way. There is nothing here. This is a waste of time. It's time to go back to the hotel and start figuring out how to get those walls back where they belong. It's time to stop making a fool out of myself and face reality. I'm not going to go. No I am definitely not going to go. An hour of pacing the floor of my hotel room has convinced me that this is not a good idea. When he calls I will just tell him that we have a lead and that I have to go follow it up. It's just not worth it. It's not worth hurting Mulder to talk to Jonas for a few hours. Even though it might be fun. Even though I am vaguely curios about what he has been doing with his life. Even though it might give me some sense of closure with him. Finally. I just can't do it to Mulder. To us. I will talk to him when he gets back. I will ask him to tell me more about his Bigfoot theory. I will be as patient and understanding as humanly possible. Then we can get some Chinese food and talk some more about the case and everything will be back to normal. That's all I want right now. I just want things to get back to normal. I hear a door slam next door. He's back. I hear him shuffling around, opening and closing drawers, banging things around and grumbling. He sounds angry. I knock tentatively on the door separating our rooms. "S'open." I open the door and find him pulling on a pair of sweatpants. He is naked from the waist up. I try not to notice. "You're back." He looks at me like this is the stupidest thing I have ever said. "Apparently." He brushes past me and grabs his sneakers from the floor. "Did you find anything?" He yanks a T-shirt from his bag on the bed and pulls it on with unnecessary harshness. "Just a lot of manure Scully." "So um..where are you going now?" "Out." I see. We're going to play this stupid game. "Well I thought maybe we could talk about the case. Maybe get some dinner or something. I've been thinking about your Bigfoot theory and.." "I don't have a Bigfoot theory. I'm sure you and your friend were right Scully. Just forget it okay. You know I'm not even sure we should be here. I'm starting to think this isn't an X-file at all." "Excuse me? Mulder I'm not sure about Bigfoot but there are enough irregularities in the case to warrant..." "Fine. Whatever. We'll stay then. Whatever you want Scully. Whatever you want." He picks up his Walkman and heads for the door. My warm feelings are starting to vanish rapidly. The irritation is back. But I haven't given up. Not yet. I walk after him and grab his arm. "Mulder don't leave yet. I really wanted to talk to you for awhile. We don't have to talk about the case if you don't feel like it. Maybe we could just have dinner." He pulls his arm from me furiously and backs away. "Scully no. Just...just no." What is wrong with him? I don't understand this. I thought he would be happy that I wanted to spend some time with him. I thought maybe we could forget about all the pissiness today. But it just keeps getting worse. I can't take it anymore. 'Mulder what the hell is your problem? All I want to do is talk to you and you're acting like..." "I don't want to talk Scully. All right? Is that okay?" He is yelling at me. He never yells at me. Not like this. "I just want to get the hell out of here. I just want you to leave me the hell alone. Do you think you can do that for just five fucking minutes?" There is a ringing in the back of my head. He has yelled so loudly my ears are ringing. I feel my throat start to close up. I am going to cry in a second. He has never talked to me this way. I never realized how much it would hurt. I don't understand it. I just don't understand. Our eyes meet and he looks terribly guilty, terribly sad. He looks like he is about to cry himself. Then he looks angrily behind me, into my room. "Would you answer your goddamn phone already? It's giving me a headache." Phone. It's my phone not my ears. Dammit. I stand glued to the floor. How can I answer the phone now? "Scully go. It might be important." It is not important. It's Jonas. I am almost sure of that. Maybe I should answer. Maybe if Mulder hears me turning him down he will stop this insanity. "All right but don't go anywhere. Mulder please. We need to talk about this. Just wait here okay?" He rolls his eyes and nods. I go back to my room, leaving the doors open so he can hear what I am going to say. I pick up the phone. I hear Jonas' voice. And then I hear Mulder's door open and slam shut. I ask Jonas to hold on a second and run out the door. I see Mulder's back quickly disappearing. He is running away. Literally and figuratively. Run and run and just keep running. It's the story of my life. It's the story of my death. I run because it is the only way I know how to forget. How to leave the troubles in my mind completely behind me. Part of me actually believes if I run fast enough and far enough it will all just go away. I'll enter another world, or another dimension, or another state of consciousness or..something. If only I could run enough. Mister fucking cool. That's what I wanted to be. What a fucking joke. I was doing fine until she touched me. I was calm, I was cold, I barely felt a thing. It was easy. So easy to shut down. Then she had to go and touch me. She had to go and make me lose my shit entirely. I wish I could make myself hate her for that. I just wanted her to leave me alone, to go away and stop hurting me. Not that she was trying to hurt me of course. She was trying to reach out to me. But sometimes that is the worst pain of all because I cannot reach back. Leaving like this, running away from her in the middle of that, it was probably one of the stupidest moves I've made in a long time. She is going to be furious. Not that she probably wasn't already. First I am rude and obnoxious to her all day. Then when she tries, for some inexplicable reason, to be nice to me, to call a truce, I blow up at her for no good reason at all. None that she knows about anyway. And then when she begs me to stay so that we can talk about what the hell my problem is, I run away without a word to her. Yes it's classic Mulder. Be an asshole and then flee. Reminds me of my father, hollering at my mother for no reason and then leaving the house for days with no explanation. I've inherited a lot of wonderful traits from that man. My mother was a saint for putting up with him as long as she did. I wonder if people say the same thing about Scully. I wonder how much longer she will be able to put up with me? I wonder if she even should. In a strange way this thing with Jonas has given me a kind of fatalistic attitude. I feel like this is a chance for her, an opportunity for escape. He still has feelings for her. I could see it just in the way he looked at her. She could have him back in an instant if she wanted. And he could give her a descent life. A normal life. And I feel like this is some kind of final showdown between me and a normal life. I am not offering much of a case for the me side of that choice. I should be fighting for her not against her. If I know what's good for me I should be with her now, trying to explain why I have been treating her so shabbily, begging for her forgiveness. But I know I won't do that. I know I can't. And I think it might be better for her if I didn't. A light snow starts to fall on the street in front of me. It's really very beautiful here. The mountains and the trees. It's a very small town. So small I think I've run through the entire thing already. There is nowhere left to go. I suppose I could head for the hills. Try to run the Rockies. That would be something. I'll bet I could really get lost up there. Maybe no one would ever find me. I could become a mountain man. Paul Bunyun. Or Bigfoot. I could become Bigfoot and then Scully wouldn't believe in me. Then she'd be able to have her normal life without feeling guilty about me. Alright, I have been running for too long now. I am having delirious fantasies about turning into Bigfoot. It's time to go back to the hotel. Or better yet, back to Washington. Maybe I can plead my case again. Maybe I'll be able to change her mind and we can get the hell out of here. There really isn't much here in terms of a case. Nothing I care about anyway. I am leaving. If she wants she can come with me and if not, well I guess that will be enough of an answer for me. End part 2 of 6 Title: Volition Unbound (3/6) Author: Rachel Anton E-mail: RAnton1013@aol.com see part one for disclaimer, summary, etc. Champagne and lobster. This is Jonas' idea of "going out for drinks". He has taken me to the nicest restaurant in town and is in the process of wining and dining me. I suppose I am letting him. I suppose it feels kind of nice for a change. I suppose it is better than being yelled at for no reason whatsoever. Yes I decided to go after all. Does this make me a terrible person? I don't know but I do know that the prospect of sitting alone in my hotel room and brooding seemed like the only other option. Is this what normal people do? Go out on dates to nice restaurants with men that actually ask them questions about their lives and feelings and sometimes even listen to the answers? I suppose it is. This is what I used to have. With Jonas. With some other people. Before Mulder. Before Mulder I was a normal person with a normal life. I try to remember what it was like to have a relationship. What was it like with Jonas? I look over at him and wonder. He is very good looking, and becoming more so as I finish yet another glass of champagne. The sex was pretty good too if I remember correctly. The best I've had actually, which of course isn't saying much. But still, I think we had a good time together. I think I loved him. But for the life of me I can't remember why. Logically I do. I mean he is a terrific person. All the things a normal woman would want in a man. Normal. He is so normal. Our relationship was so normal. I guess that was the problem. I try to imagine what a relationship with Mulder would be like. A real bonafide relationship. What would it be like to have him take me out on a date, to have him come over my house at night and watch movies snuggled up together on the couch? Would he ever want to do these things even if we were in a relationship? Would he be demanding? Monopolize every minute of my life? Even more than he does now? Would he be affectionate in public? Give me big wet kisses in airports? And the sex..what would that be like? I start to feel the same warm flush rushing through my body. The same feeling I always get when I ask myself that question. I can't even imagine. I am almost afraid to imagine. But for some reason I start to imagine. I am sitting across the table from Jonas only half listening to him tell me about his normal life and his normal friends and all I can think is "If this was a date with Mulder he would be going down on me under the tablecloth by now." Not that I have any reason to believe this. Just a hunch that's all. A very distracting hunch. Why am I thinking about this? I must be some kind of masochist. Fantasizing about a man who just bit my head off for asking him to have dinner with me. When there is a perfectly sane man right across the table from me. I try to focus back on him, to listen and engage, but the seed has been planted and now I am too horny to even think straight. So I just nod like the tipsy fool that I have become. "And then I decided to move out here to be closer to my brother and.." the rest of that sentence drifts off. I have only been catching snippets since the words sex and Mulder entered my brain at the same time. Damn him. He has to intrude on everything. He can't leave me alone. As if to validate that theory the metallic shrill of my cell phone starts emanating from my pocket. Damn him. "Jonas I'm sorry. Would you excuse me for a second?" "Of course." He stands politely as I leave the table. So damn polite. Such a gentlemen. Why does that irritate me so? I walk to the area between the pay phone and restrooms and answer the phone in the crankiest way possible. "Scully it's me." Hey what a surprise. "What is it Mulder?" "Where are you?" He sounds annoyed. He really expected me to sit around and wait, possibly for hours, for his return and the continuation of abuse Scully day. I decide to take a page out of his book. "I'm out. What is it?" "Out where?" "I'm having dinner Mulder." And you could be here with me if you weren't such a fucked up psycho. I instantly regret that thought and hope words like that never make their way out of my mouth. "Oh. Well um..I was just thinking, I think I'm gonna head back to DC Scully. I just, I really don't think there's anything here for us and I've got a pile of files I wanted to check out about a mile high so..." "Fine Mulder. Whatever. We'll leave tomorrow." I am not going to argue this anymore. It's just not important enough to me. "Actually I was thinking of leaving tonight. I was gonna call the airport and see..." "Mulder if you want to leave tonight then go all right. I'm in the middle of something here. I'll catch up with you tomorrow." I hang up. Too soon. I don't care. He wasn't going to apologize and that is the only thing I wanted to hear from him at this point. Damn. Damn and damn and damn some more. What the fuck Scully? "What the fuck?" I say it into the receiver knowing full well there is no one on the other end. I slam the phone down angrily. What the hell is her problem? Of course I know what it is. It's me. She's obviously still upset about my ridiculous outburst earlier. And how could I blame her for that. I've succeeded in completely driving her away. And right into his arms. She's with him. I'm almost sure about that. Why didn't I just apologize? Why didn't I tell her I was sorry and that I want to see her and that I need her and I love her and I can't stand this crap anymore. Why do I have to be such a fucking coward? I could have stopped her. I could have gotten her away from him. If I hadn't given her that stupid attitude she would have listened to me and I could have gotten her to come back here. But what good would that have done us really? I still wouldn't be able to tell her how I feel. And she would be stuck here with me in the same situation. It's probably for the best. I'm sure she's having a better time with him anyway. But I can't stay here and wait to find out. I don't want to be here when she doesn't come back tonight. Or worse yet when she brings him back here. Or possibly even worse when she comes back alone and tells me all about her wonderful night and the fact that she's finally realized what a waste of her time I am. I have to get out of here. I call the airport. Plenty of flights. Take your pick. I make a reservation for a direct flight to DC taking off in three hours. Perfect. Plenty of time. Yep just gotta get my stuff together and check out and then I'll be on my way. So why am I not on my way? Why am I glued to this seat in front of the window staring out into space? Waiting. What is wrong with me? What am I waiting for? Why can't I leave? Maybe it is a strong desire to torture myself. Maybe it is an obscene curiosity. Maybe it is the last lingering hope that she will not do this. That she won't be able to hurt me this way. All I know is I cannot make myself go. I watch the snow fall onto the deserted parking lot. The rented Geo and a beat up pick up truck are the only vehicles out there. He probably picked her up. He will have to drop her off if she wants to come back here. If they are going to spend the night together it will probably be here. Next door. Just a few feet away from me. She thinks I am leaving. She won't know I'm here. She won't know to be quiet. I switch the light off. I don't want her to know I am here. I don't want her to see me in the window, watching, waiting for her. I want to hear her. God help me I need to hear her. No matter how much it kills me. No matter how much it turns me on to hear the sounds she makes. No matter how much rage..God I feel my fists clenching just thinking about it. I know I would have to kill him. I know I would have to break down the fucking door and kill him with my bare hands. But still I need to hear it. How fucked up is that? I should go. I should let her be. Let her get on with her life without me. Let her make her choice and go home already. But I can't. I simply can't. I am so nervous and worked up that I am starting to sweat. I open the window and let the cold breeze run over my oversensitized skin. I feel like everything in my body is on full alert tonight. Everything feels different. More. Just more. It's so silent out there. So peaceful. So different from what is going on inside me. Inside I am a churning, burning mess. I want her to come back. I am so afraid of her coming back. I need her to come back. One way or the other I need to know. I need to see. It's judgment day. It's the beginning or the end of the rest of my life. Either way I cannot leave. We're almost there. Just a few more blocks and we will be at the hotel. And I will have to say good-bye. Good- bye and I am flying back to Washington in the morning and I will probably never see you again but it's been fun and by the way I am really horny and I know I'm never gonna get any from the person I really want so do you wanna stay over and have a meaningless one night stand that might make me feel a little bit better for about three minutes? Yeah that's gonna go over real well. What am I doing? What am I planning on doing? God I don't even know. I can tell he wants me. I'm not an idiot. And I know him well enough to recognize the signs. I could have him tonight. So easily. Mulder would never even have to know. He is probably half way to Washington by now. Still in a lovely mood I am sure. Why does the thought make me feel so guilty? Why do I feel like I would be cheating on him? It's not fucking fair. I can't have sex with anyone else for my whole life because of him but he will never have sex with me. It's not fucking fair anymore. I am just buzzed enough to think that this is a perfectly justified rage. Never mind the fact that he is in the same situation. At this point I could care less. God how long has it been? Years and years. I think there's a coat of rust around my goddamn vagina its been shut down for so long. It would be nice. It would be so nice. And I wouldn't have to feel that guilty about it. Not really. It's not like there would be any feeling behind it. It would be one step up from a vibrator on the meaningful partner scale. And I don't feel guilty about that. Yes champagne really does wonders for the old moral compass. I have to admit I am somewhat nervous about this. It's not as bad as it might be if it was a completely new person. But still, when you are celibate for a long enough period of time you tend to start to wonder if you even know how to do it anymore. I guess it's like riding a bike. Not that I was ever too terrific at riding a bike. "So, here we are." Well, here we are. And it's time to make some kind of decision. Any kind of decision. "Let me walk you to the door." The door? The door is about ten feet away from where he parked. This gentleman stuff is about to go too far. Still it saves me for a minute or so. We walk to the door and stand in front of it looking at each other for a while. It's cold. And snowing. So beautiful here. "It was really nice to see you again Dana." Dana...who is Dana? I forgot. I search his eyes, trying desperately to find the person I once was. The person he saw. What does he see now? Do I wear my insane life like a badge? Can everyone see it? "I've missed you a lot." Yes, yes so have I. I have missed Dana a lot. Dana was a woman. Dana got laid. He reaches his hand up to my face. He strokes my cheek. He is going to kiss me. My God he is going to kiss me. Is that okay? I have no idea. His lips touch mine briefly and I feel a spark. Well more like a dull fizzle but it's something. Never mind the fact that I feel more when Mulder is merely in the same room with me. Hell he doesn't even have to be. All I have to do is think of him being in the same room and I feel more than this but Mulder isn't here now. And Mulder is never going to be here. Not like this. So I kiss him back. I kiss him again. And again. I am a sick person. Truly and completely mentally deranged. Who but a sick person would be sitting in the dark like some kind of fucking pervert watching the woman he loves kissing someone else and becoming simultaneously erect and nauseous? Of course there is more than that. There is anger and hatred, there is jealousy and rage, there is a loneliness more profound than I have ever felt in my life. But those are the two most predominant responses. Physical responses. Arousal and sickness. Why do they have to go together for me? Almost all the time. It's always been like this. Sex and death. They are forever joined in my consciousness. Perhaps that's why I've never been able to see Scully as a sexual person. To do that would mean subjecting her to my sickness. It would mean associating her with pain forever in my mind. I don't want to be watching this. God I should not be watching this. But she is so beautiful, even now. The snow is falling on her hair and her face. It's sticking to her. She looks like a princess. And her mouth. Sweet Jesus her mouth. I have never seen her kiss anyone. I have never allowed myself to imagine her kissing me. I had no idea how gorgeous she would look. Her lips even more swollen than usual, her perfect tongue flicking seductively in and out. She's so...God she's so fucking hot. I can't take it anymore. I feel something wet hit my lips and realize I am crying. Motherfucker. She moans, a tiny erotic little sound and I have to touch myself. I can't help it. I don't want to but before I even know what is happening I am running my hand over my cock. My God am I a sick bastard. Her hands reach up and stroke his hair. Almost without realizing it I lift my free hand, the one that isn't touching my goddamn dick through my pants, and run it through my hair. It should be her hand. It should be my hair. It should be my fucking hair. How can you touch him like that Scully? God, how? I sob silently to myself. I cannot let her hear me. She can't know I am here. But it's so hard not to cry out, to scream from the pain. He turns her around and pushes her against the door. His hands are all over her. Her waist, her hips. I pull my hand furiously away from my head and reach for the gun on the table next to me. It's there. Just in case. Just in case he gets carried away and she doesn't want it. God Scully please don't want it. Please. He stops kissing her and looks at her. He is gasping for air. He wants her so much. Christ who wouldn't. "I never stopped loving you Dana." It takes a moment for me to realize that was his voice and not the one in my head. When comprehension sets in time completely stops. Loves her. He loves her. He doesn't even fucking know her anymore. He doesn't love her. How could he love her? I love her. What he feels, it can't possibly approach what I feel. Can it? It is Scully after all. It is hard for me to imagine anyone not loving her. But no, no he can't feel what I feel. He can't. How could he have the gall to even suggest such a thing. Fucking bastard. Then something else hits me. If he could still love her after all this time..no. No she can't. She can not. This is just physical. It has to be. Seeing her give her body to someone else, it kills me inside. It destroys everything good in me. But her heart, her mind, her soul, God her heart, I have to believe that those belong to me. I have to. I have to believe that this whole time, all these years that I have spent, these long painful years, falling in love with her against my own will, helpless to stop it, I have to believe that she wasn't thinking about him, missing him, loving him. I have to believe that because if I don't I will have to kill myself with this gun in my hand. I can hardly see her face. I can't see her eyes. What is she thinking? What will she say to him? I love you too? My hands clench simultaneously around my cock and around my gun as a shooting pain grips my entire body. I bite my lip to keep from calling out to her, begging her to make it stop. To make it better. I have to believe she will make it better. She makes everything better. Scully please. Please don't love him. Please. Loving me. He never stopped loving me. Loving? Me? I can't even speak for a moment. I am so confused. Was he talking to me? I almost look around to find the woman he must have been talking to. Then I realize, he was talking to Dana. He really doesn't realize that Dana doesn't live here anymore. I feel like laughing. It really is just so funny. He doesn't even know what he is saying. He is in love with a person who doesn't exist anymore. He is in love with a memory. I feel sorry for him. I really do. And I feel even more guilty about what I was planning to do. I pull back from him and push him away a bit. I shake my head and search his eyes for some sense of familiarity. There is none. I almost wish I could love him back. My life might be easier if I did. But it's a ridiculous thought. I never could. Never. "Um..Jonas. I really..um...I'm sorry but I can't do this." He looks hurt but not terribly surprised. I have done this to him before. I am always pulling the rug out from under him. But better now than later. He sighs and drops his arms to his sides. He looks like a deflated balloon. "I really am sorry. I didn't mean to lead you on. I just..I don't think this would be fair to you." Or to Mulder. Or to me. God how could I have even been thinking of this. "Why not?" God don't make me say it. I have to say it. I have to make him understand. "Because I...I don't love you anymore." He takes a deep breath and I let one out. Painful but a relief. "I'm sorry. I just don't. And it wouldn't be fair to do this and have you thinking I did and that we could ever have anything real together. I mean the truth is I'm in love with someone else and you would have just been a substitute and I can't do that to you. Or him. Or myself." Alright, too much information. It's time to shut up now. He looks upset and confused but he accepts it. He has moved several feet away from me. "I'm sorry Dana. I didn't even realize you were seeing someone else. You didn't mention that at dinner." He sounds almost accusatory. I suppose he has a right. I have been using him and jerking him around. I only just this minute have started to think of him as a human being with real feelings and not some life sized substitute for a vibrator. "I'm um...I'm actually not seeing anyone." "Oh. So then what? Is it an ex-boyfriend or something?" God how can I possibly explain this to him? Why have I even started? Am I that desperate to talk about it? "Um..no. We've never actually been together." He shakes his head like this is ridiculous but perfectly understandable from me. "That's classic. Classic Dana Scully. How perfectly safe. How pleasantly unthreatening to love someone who doesn't love you back." This makes me very angry. What the hell does he know about it? "Jonas it's not that simple all right. And we can't choose the people we love." "Believe me I know." He looks at me pointedly. Damn him. He doesn't even know what he's talking about. "You don't love me Jonas. You love the person I used to be. You don't even know me anymore." "Alright if it makes you feel better to believe that then go ahead. But Dana I hate to see you throw your love away." "I'm not..." "It's your partner isn't it?" I am not going to answer that. I turn angrily away from him and start to work the key in the lock of my door. "Dana, I can tell that it is. Look at me." He grabs my shoulders and turns me back to face him. "You are a beautiful woman, a good person, a wonderful lover. I just don't want to see that go to waste. If you can't love me I can accept that but there are other men out there who would be able to love you back." What the hell? I wanted a date not a therapy session. "Look Mulder is just.." damn why did I say his name. "He's just afraid of love. He can't really deal with those kind of relationships. Not yet anyway. It's very complicated." "So you're just gonna wait for him forever? I'm sorry. I know this is none of my business. I just...I want to see you happy that's all." I can see that he is sincere about this. I will try to set his mind at ease. "I am happy Jonas." "Then why are you out here with me?" I have no real answer to that one. He leans in and kisses me on the cheek. "Goodnight Dana. It really was nice seeing you again. Felt just like old times." I suppose that is both a compliment and an insult. "Goodnight Jonas." I watch him walk to his car and drive out of my life and wonder what the hell just happened here. Why do I feel like I just got hit by a truck? End part 3 of 6 Title: Volition Unbound (4/6) Author: Rachel Anton E-mail: RAnton1013@aol.com see part one for disclaimer, summary, etc. A long time passes before I can even move. I've been sitting like this, one hand on my cock, the other on my gun, like some surreal country and western song, for what seems like forever. I haven't even shifted my position since she started talking. Since she started saying those..things. I think I am in shock. I feel cold and almost numb. This can't be real. It just...can't. I must have been hallucinating. I must be losing my mind. I have to admit when she first started telling him all this I thought she was making it up. I thought it was a situation she had invented to get out of sleeping with him. And that made me happy. God did it ever make me happy. She doesn't love him. She doesn't fucking love him. Of course. How could I have ever doubted her. But then he had to call her on it. "It's your partner isn't it?" all indignant. Almost disgusted. How could you love him? And I knew from her reaction that he was right. And I swear to God for a minute I started wondering if she had another partner that I didn't know about. But she said my name. "Mulder is afraid of love." Mulder is afraid of love. Is that what she thinks? Mulder is not afraid of love. Mulder is afraid of a lack of love. Of rejection. Of losing her. But she said it. She is in love with someone else. With her partner. With me. Can that really be true? It can't be true. She had to have made it up. When he suggested me she just went with it, just to shut him up. No, no that can't be right. She isn't that good a liar. A substitute. She was going to use him as a substitute. For me. Was she going to sleep with him and pretend it was me? Once again I am turned on and sickened simultaneously. But mostly turned on. She didn't do it. She couldn't go through with it. Because she really wants me and she won't settle for anything else. The profound nature of that realization hits me like a brick. She wants me. That could be me kissing her. That could be my hair that she is stroking. That could be my mouth that she is moaning into. That is what she wants. Why the fuck am I still sitting here? I hear her slam the door shut next door. I hear her walking around, going into the bathroom, turning on the shower. She is washing him off her. Thank God. I feel a sudden overwhelming urge to run over there, to jump into the shower with her and just..God I still can't bring myself to think it, to imagine it. I still can't fucking move. I sit in front of the window for several more minutes, contemplating, absorbing what I have just heard. Will it ever sink in? Will it ever seem real? I remember the day I found out that her cancer had gone into remission. I remember not being able to believe it at first. I remember sitting there in shock for a long time. And then laughing hysterically for an even longer time. And then crying. And then just holding her, never wanting to let her go. And after that walking around in a daze. I felt like I was being reborn. It was that wonderful and that painful. This is a very similar feeling. I want to feel it but I am almost afraid. Afraid of the intensity, afraid of having it all fall to pieces. Afraid of love? No, I will show her who is afraid of love. I am not afraid of her love. I need it. I crave it. I will show her. I hear the shower turn off and she opens and closes the bathroom door and walks around a little more. She is probably going to go to bed soon. I should go now. I have to go now. If I wait any longer I will lose my nerve. I look down at myself. My dick is still hard as a rock. I am still sweating like a pig and wearing the same dirty running clothes from before. Charming. I suppose I should at least wait until my body settles down a little. I release the clenches in both of my fists and bring my hands together over my head. Okay any time now. Seconds pass. Minutes. I am still hard. Jesus Christ. Think of something. Anything but Scully. Anything but the fact that she is a few feet away from me, still wet from her shower, wanting me, thinking about me. Something else. Something disgusting, disturbing. Flukeman, Cancer man, flesh eating parasites burrowing in people's necks, examining Scully's neck in a meat locker in the arctic goddammit. Now I have to start all over again. Liver eating mutants, inbred mother fuckers, cockroaches from outer space, boy I certainly have a nice store of revolting images to choose from. Alright that's enough. Things have shrunk to a presentable size down there and it's time to go. Hopefully she wants me enough that she won't be completely repulsed by the funky odor I am exuding. I stand up and realize my legs are weak and wobbly. I am dizzy. I reach for the table to steady myself. One step at a time. Walk don't run. Be cool. Christ almighty try to be cool. I knock on the door separating me from everything I have ever wanted. "Mulder?" "Yeah it's me." Is that my voice? Jesus I sound pathetic. Scratchy and desperate. I hear her unlocking the door. It opens a crack and I see her eyes peering to the other side. She sees that it is really me and pulls the door completely open. She is wearing a tight, small white T-shirt and a pair of plaid flannel pajama bottoms. Her hair is still wet. No bra. So much for my revolting thoughts. I reluctantly drag my eyes from her erect nipples, poking provocatively through her shirt and look at her face. She looks angry. Shit I had almost forgotten what a dick I was to her. "I thought you were leaving." "Oh. Yeah. Well I changed my mind. Decided to wait till tomorrow." "What do you want?" She's certainly not going to make this easy. But it's okay. I know she wants me. I don't have to be afraid anymore. "I wanted to apologize." Her eyes soften and she steps aside to let me in. She walks away from me and sits at the small vanity table by the window. She turns the chair around to face me and looks at me expectantly. She wants me to put on a real show here. What I've said is not going to be sufficient. "I acted like a real jackass and I am really sorry. You didn't deserve it. You didn't do anything wrong and I was just..." go on. You can say it now. You can say whatever you want. "I was just jealous Scully. And I'm sorry I took it out on you." Her eyes widen a bit at this revelation. I have thrown her for a loop with my honesty. But she is still Scully the unflappable. For now. She nods and turns away. "Apology accepted. So if there's nothing else I wanted to get some sleep before we fly back." Oh not much else Scully. Not much at all. I move closer to her. Dangerously close. I am standing behind her. Her hands are folded primly on the table in front of her. If she turned around again her head would be a mere two or three inches away from my once again engorged cock. I put my hands on the armrests of her chair and lean in to whisper in her ear. "How was your date Scully?" What the hell? Oh my God what the hell. Something is not right here. Something is different. Something is off. What the hell is he doing? What am I supposed to be doing? He is so close. He is never this close. He is whispering in my ear!? He admitted to being jealous. Where is all this coming from? "What makes you think I was on a date?" I am amazed at how steady my voice sounds. Even I am awed by my own self-control sometimes. "Were you?" This is lower than the first whisper. Even more seductive. What is he trying to do to me? His head is right next to my ear. I can feel his breath. I can smell him. He smells like sweat. Mulder sweat. God what is he doing to me? I shift a little in the chair, trying to move away from him just a tiny bit. All I end up doing is shifting my legs against myself and realizing how wet I am already. Goddamn you Mulder. Why are you doing this? "I um..I was having dinner. With a man. I guess..I suppose you could call that a date if you were so inclined." Why am I whispering now? I think if I talked at a normal level it would sound like shouting compared to him. "Did'ya let him kiss you goodnight Scully?" Oh my God. Oh my fucking God. I turn around furiously. His face is right in front of me. His eyes. Jesus his eyes are red. He's been crying. Oh my fucking God. He saw me. He was here and he saw everything. He saw me kiss Jonas. Oh my God. Mulder I'm sorry. So sorry. "Mulder whatever you saw..." He is smiling. Grinning. Leering! What in the world? "You know Scully there is something I'm still confused about. When you say that I'm afraid of love, exactly what aspect of love are you referring to. Being loved? Giving love? Making love?" No. Oh no. Oh my God no. I can hear my heart start to beat about a hundred times faster than normal. I am starting to sweat and..Lord I think I am about to hyperventilate. "Mulder I...how much..I.." "Everything. Every word." We are still whispering. No more. He was eavesdropping on me. Spying on me. How dare he? How DARE he? "What the hell did you think you were doing?" Not exactly yelling but certainly loud enough to break the mood. "How could you just...just sit there and listen to me like that? To a private conversation? Why would you..how..I.." He is still smiling damn him. He can see what is happening. He can see how flustered I am, how desperately I am trying to stay angry with him. He knows I can't. Not when he is kneeling behind me with his arms surrounding me and his face hovering over my shoulder. Not when he smells like that. Not when he looks so happy. He is happy. He is actually happy. "I was also thinking, you know he kind of had a point about one thing Scully. If you're so happy, why were you out there with him? What were you hoping to get out of it?" "None of your damn business." I am muttering now, practically to myself. I turn my head away from him. I can't face him anymore. This is too embarrassing. His hands have slipped somehow from the armrests to my shoulders. He is stroking them. He is stroking me. Oh my God. "So did you find out about his life Scully? What did he tell you? Has he been crying into his surgical equipment since you left him?" I shake my head. I can talk about this I suppose. This is safe. As safe as any topic could be when he is touching me like that. "Um no..he.." I gasp involuntarily as he starts to knead my shoulders with his fingers, as his lips move closer to my neck. So close. "He was married. His wife died. They had um..he has a...a...little" I can't stop myself from moaning out loud when I feel his tongue touch my skin. So briefly, it almost seems like it wasn't real. But it was. He is seducing me. Mulder is seducing me. Holy shit. Mulder is seducing me. He knows how I feel about him and he is finally, finally going to do something about it. He wants to be with me. He wants to make love to me. Here. Now. Everything inside me turns to jelly. I am scared. I am giddy. I am burning. "Girl...he has a little girl and umm.." His grip tightens on me and his head moves away from my neck. "He has a little girl?" He sounds suddenly strained. Unhappy. What happened? "Um..yeah. So?" Please don't stop. Mulder please. "So um...maybe this...maybe I'm not..maybe you made the wrong decision Scully. Maybe you should be with him." "What?" I turn my head so that I can look into his eyes. So that I can see what the hell brought this new bout of self-hatred on. There is so much pain on his face. Why? "Scully he has a little girl. He has a normal life and a good job and he...he could give you everything you want. Everything you need. I don't feel right about you giving that up for me." "Oh Mulder." I lift my hand off the table and place it on his cheek. Look deeply into his eyes and pray that he can see the truth in what I am going to tell him. What I can finally tell him. "Mulder you heard what I said. Weren't you listening? Don't you get it? He can't give me what I want or what I need. The only person who can is you. Mulder the only thing I want, the only thing I need IS you." All she wants. All she needs. Can that really be true? I did hear her say that she was in love with me. That's why I am here. But what she has just said, it is far weightier and more profound than anything she said to Jonas. It is, I believe, possible to be in love with someone, and to need more out of life than that person's presence. Of course I wouldn't really know anything about that. She is my life's breath. Without her nothing matters, nothing is real. But she is different. She is independent and strong. She could never need me the way I need her. Could she? I am not a fool. And I know what it means for Dana Scully to say something like this to someone. She speaks with the same scientific precision she applies to everything. She means what she says. Every time. She doesn't exaggerate and she doesn't lie. She said it and she meant it. I am everything she needs and wants. This is a tremendous thing for her to say. And it sends her out, dangling even further on a limb than she already is. I come in here with my little seduction plans, knowing full well how she feels about me, and offer her no indication of my true feelings. Nothing beyond sexual desire anyway. She deserves to know. She deserves to hear me say that she is beyond all I need and want. That before I met her I had no idea that such a feeling existed. That without her I would shrivel up and die. Even though I am certain she knows this already. How could she not? But I still can't. I am still concerned about something. A nagging worry in the back of my mind that won't go away. "Scully I believe you. But why..why were you out there with him? I meant it when I asked you that. Why did you go out with him at all? Why did you need to do that?" I try to ask gently. With curiosity and not hostility. Her hands drop from my face and fall into her lap. She looks guilty and sad. I don't want to make her feel that way. I'm not angry. Not at all. In fact in a way I am grateful. I just want to understand. "I'm not really sure Mulder. I guess it was to get some closure. And well...I was so angry at you for running out on me. I guess I just knew it would piss you off and I wanted to piss you off. I'm sorry." "You don't have to apologize Scully. It's understandable. But why..." "Why did I kiss him?" She looks down at her lap sadly. "I think I just wanted to it would feel like. It's been so long since...well since anyone and I suppose I was just curious. I suppose I wanted to know if it was even possible for me to be with anyone but you." "Why..." "Because Mulder. I was starting to think we were never going to...that you were never...dammit Mulder I have needs you know." Needs? Scully has needs? Why does this surprise me? I wonder what her needs are. I wonder what I could do to satisfy her needs. "So Scully, if he hadn't told you he loved you, do you think you would have gone through with it?" Boy I am really starting to sound pathetic here. Why can't I drop this? Jesus I came in here to seduce her not interrogate her. But for some reason I can't do it until I know the answers to these questions. It is selfish and stupid. I know she loves me. I know she wants me. That should be enough. "I don't think so Mulder. Not in the end. I was using him. I didn't want him." "You seemed to enjoy kissing him." God what the fuck. Let it go you stupid jerk. Why can't I just let it go already. I don't want to hear about her kissing him. I don't want to think about it. Goddammit. "I didn't Mulder. Not really." "You were very passionate." Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. "No I wasn't. I wasn't passionate. It was dead and feelingless." "You touched his hair." Bitter. Bitter and pissy and sad. I didn't want to be this way. I didn't want to say these things to her. I stand up and move away from her, turn my back to her. I don't want her to see me like this. I don't want her to see me cry over this. "Mulder." I walk to the door separating our rooms and lean on the wall next to it. Take a deep breath. Don't start crying. Don't start yelling. She loves you. "Mulder come back here. Please." I turn to face her. She is sitting with her side to the back of the chair, her legs spread and her arms open, beckoning me to her. How can I say no to that. I walk back to her and she puts her hands on my shoulders, pulling me down so that I am kneeling between her legs. She takes my face in her hands and I rest my hands on her thighs. Our eyes are level. So are our lips. Just a few small inches. I start breathing just a bit more heavily. "Mulder I'm sorry. I'm sorry I kissed him. I'm sorry you saw it. But you have to believe me when I tell you that it was completely meaningless. I don't love him. I don't care about him." I know it's true. I know it. But the pain of seeing it, I suppose it's too fresh to completely vanish right now. "I'm sorry too Scully. I don't mean to give you the third degree about this. I don't doubt your feelings. I just...God Scully it just hurt so bad. It almost killed me to see you with him like that." I feel a tear trickle down my cheek. Jesus, what is my problem? "It must have. I can't even imagine. Well actually yes I can." Oh my God. Yes she can. I have put her in this situation on more than one occasion. This fact registers in my mind for the first time since all of this started. "Anyway I'm sorry. I'm sorry that it hurt you. I never want to hurt you Mulder. I want to make it better. Let me make it better." She leans in towards me and I feel the warm moisture of her lips on my cheek. Kissing away my tears. Making it better. The way she always does. She pulls back a little so that I can see her. Her beautiful face. Has she always been so beautiful? Her hair is still damp, hanging around her cheeks. She has no makeup on and I can see the freckles she tries so hard to cover up. Her big, wet eyes are staring into mine. She is so beautiful it hurts. And I start to remember why I came in here in the first place. Those lips, ripe and glistening. Waiting. For me. Waiting for me to erase the memory of another man's touch forever. "Scully." It's all I can say. It's the only word I can utter. I hope that she can hear everything I need to tell her in the way I say that one word. She takes a deep shuddering breath and I feel her legs start to tremble slightly under my hands. She wants me. What am I doing? Why am I wasting all this time? I've already wasted so much time. Our eyes hold a silent conversation. Can I kiss you? Please kiss me. I have been waiting for this my whole life. So have I. Please. Now. We both move forward simultaneously, underestimating the distance the other will go and our lips meet suddenly and unexpectedly. We both jump at the contact, at the feel. The first touch is soft, barely there. I am afraid to move, afraid to do anything. I am in shock. My lips are touching Scully's. We are kissing. I am kissing Scully. She is the first to break out of this trance like state. Her fingers start to run over my face and down my neck. Her lips soften under mine. They part. Just a tiny bit. Enough for me to feel her sweet breath against me. I am gasping for air through my nose. Her legs part further and I have the cognizance to move closer against her. A strangled sigh comes from the back of her throat and her tongue flicks out and runs over my bottom lip. God. Oh God. She is asking for entry. She wants me to let her in. My lips part in response and I tilt my head to the side so that my ample nose doesn't get in her way. The feel of her smooth, small, wet tongue working it's way into my mouth, finally meeting my own is almost too good. It's almost painful. I moan against her and squeeze her legs tighter. I squeeze her legs for dear life. End part 4 of 6 Title: Volition Unbound (5/6) Author: Rachel Anton E-mail: RAnton1013@aol.com see part one for disclaimer, summary etc. God that mouth. How many dreams, fantasies, distracting thoughts have been centered on that mouth. And now it's mine. His tongue is thick and heavy. It tastes like hot chocolate. He moves it over mine, into my mouth, and it slides over my teeth, against the inside of my cheeks. It fills me. As our tongues probe deeper and deeper into each other our lips mesh together in a dance that is growing more and more frenzied by the second. There are no words to describe this. I am dizzy. I am hungry. I am melting. His hands are wrapped tightly around my thighs and I start to realize that it hurts. That he is digging his fingers into my flesh. Then I realize that my hands have traveled into his hair. That I am clutching it, pulling on it. That I am digging my nails into his scalp. I am sliding in and out of conscious thought and I am reminded strangely of falling asleep against my will. It is that same unusual feeling, like I am sliding and falling and drowning and then suddenly I will burst back into reality and I am scared and disoriented for a moment until I realize it's all right. I'm safe and I'm here. It's so different from kissing Jonas. My God did Mulder actually think that was passion between us. Is that how it looked from the outside? I can't even imagine it. That kiss was a drop of rain in an empty well. This is a hurricane. This is a tropical storm. I can't even see the well anymore. He pushes between my legs and I feel him, hard and hot against me. And I remember that he is more than just a mouth. He is a whole man and I can have all of him. I wrap my legs around his waist and grind myself against him. Against his cock. Mulder's cock. God Mulder has a cock. This sounds ridiculous. Mulder has a penis. This I knew already. I've seen it myself. But never like this. Never erect and burning against my core. Never ready to fuck me. There have been a few occasions when I thought I caught him in this state. But I always looked away. I always pretended it wasn't there. Because I knew if I really allowed myself to acknowledge it nothing would be able to stop me from pulling his pants down and wrapping my lips around it. He pulls away from me and looks at me, gasping, desperate. "Scully...I.." No. No more words. We don't need them anymore. I push on his shoulders with both hands and he falls to the floor, landing hard on his back. He looks at me with a mixture of awe and fear as I kick the chair to the side and climb on top of him. I plunder his mouth again with a longing I never knew existed in me. I've lost all precision and my lips scrape against the rough, stubbly surface of his cheeks as my tongue collides with his almost randomly. We bite, suck and lick at each other's faces, aiming for mouths but often missing and I straddle him, slide my hands under his T-shirt. His skin is hot under my hands. It is slick with sweat, the sweet smell of which fills my nostrils, invades my senses. I place a hand over his heart. I can feel it beating through his skin. Proof. That he is real, that he is here, that this is not a dream or hallucination. I pull his shirt up to his neck and he lifts his arms allowing me to remove it completely. He has a beautiful upper body. Simultaneously broad and lean. Hard and soft. I move my mouth down to taste his chest. His cock twitches anxiously against me as I grasp one of his nipples between my lips and suck on it. He moans and his hands grasp senselessly at the carpet underneath us as I start to lick his torso, to clean the sweat from him. It tastes so good. So human. I want to feel his humanity. I want to be as close to it as I can get. As my lips and tongue explore his chest my hands reach up to stroke his arms. Strong arms. Thick with muscle but not too much. Not to the point of being overdone. Arms which I am certain could overpower me at any time. Could grasp and flip me over. But not now. He is letting me restrain him, hold him down as I greedily touch and taste him. His chest is starting to rise and fall faster and more dramatically. I look up at him. He is panting and his eyes are opened so wide. I don't think I have ever seen this look on his face before. It reminds me of the expression he reserves for UFO sightings, psychic phenomena and other freaks of nature. The thrill of discovery, the fear of the unknown. But there is something else here. Something blazing in his eyes that scorches my skin as he looks at it. I sit up on my knees and press harder down on him. I start grinding and writhing almost without realizing it. I run my hands hungrily over his skin and throw back my head. His body, his beauty, the passion in his eyes, he is turning me into a desperate pool of insatiable lust. I am struck by and overwhelming need to feel his hands on me. To feel the burn of his touch. I reach down and take his hands in mine, run them up and down my hips wantonly. "Touch me Mulder. Please touch me." I sound needy and pathetic to my own ears. I can't believe what he has driven me to already. I have never been like this. Never. What an idiot I am. Sitting here like a dazed fool. Not even touching her. I want to. Believe me I have never wanted anything more. But I have been too thrown, too astonished by her to do anything. She is unbelievable. I want this to be special. I want it to be slow and sensual and perfect for her. I tried to tell her that but before I could utter a word beyond her name I was lying on the floor flat on my back with her little body writhing and squirming on top of me. She is crazed. Wild and free and so hungry. For me. She is like this for me. Because of me. It's unreal. Now I understand why she was shocked and indignant when I said her kiss with Jonas was passionate. Maybe it was for mere mortals. Not for Scully. I have never heard her sound like that. Breathless and sultry. Begging me to touch her. My hands start to move of their own volition under hers, up and down over her sides. I allow my gaze to settle on her breasts, bouncing and swaying above me with her every move. How strange that I never really noticed her breasts. Well that's not entirely true. I'm not dead after all. I suppose I've just never thought of them in this light. I've never seen them like this. I think this might be the first time I've seen her without a bra. No that can't be true. But it's definitely the first time I've seen her with no bra in a shirt like that, straddling my lap, grinding her crotch against mine with her lips parted slightly and her eyes half closed. Nope this is a new experience for me. And I am completely fascinated. I can't stop looking at them. And then I realize, I can touch them now. She won't slap me and she won't hate me. In fact she will probably be happy. It's probably what she wants. Jesus she just asked me to touch her. I reach up a bit and run my thumbs over her hardened nipples. I wonder what color they are. Are they a rosy pink, an earthy peach, the deep crimson of her lips? Soon I will know. As soon as I want to. She groans and arches into my hand. The sound is amazing. It goes straight to my dick. God help me. I hope for her sake as well as mine that I don't come in my pants before I even get her shirt off. That would be just like me. I move my hands down to her waist and slide them under the hem of her T-shirt. Her stomach, her bare stomach under my hands. Her skin is the softest thing I have ever felt. Smooth and warm. I want to bury myself in her. With trembling fingers I start to lift the garment from her. Slow. Slow and steady wins the race. I think that ought to be my mantra for the night. Scully surprises me by rejecting the slow and steady approach again and tearing the shirt from my hands and off her back. Holy Mary mother of God. I wish I was a religious person because I could use a good prayer right now. Please don't let me lose my mind. Please don't let me get so out of control that I hurt or frighten her. Please protect me from her beauty. Oh and she is beautiful. Her porcelain skin, the cluster of freckles over her heart, the deep curve of her waist, the rosy tips of her pretty round breasts. She's unbelievable. Even if she wasn't Scully I think I would be bowled over. But it is Scully. And I am knocked flat on my ass. After a moment of speechless admiration I regain some of my senses. I take her thighs in my hands and pull her up towards me. She leans over so that those remarkable breasts are dangling in my face. She braces herself over me with her hands on the floor behind my head. She is straddling my stomach now. My naked skin. I can feel her wetness soaking through the flannel material of her pajamas and onto my flesh. Thank God she is off my cock. I didn't think I could last much longer like that. She is so wet already. Wet. Scully is wet. Scully has a wet pussy. Scully has a pussy. I know. Basic human anatomy. I learned this lesson in junior high. But you have to understand something here. This is a major revelation for me. Someone can tell you that fire burns until they are blue in the face but until you get close to the flame, until you feel the heat for yourself you will never understand what this means. And this is the first time I have felt Scully's flame. This is the first I have known of it's existence. I run my tongue in circles over her nipples, between her breasts, everywhere that I can reach. I wrap my lips over one of her nipples and suck lightly on it. Then harder. And harder. Her whimpering and sighing has become almost constant and completely entrancing. I want to do everything I can to make sure she never stops making those sounds. He is so beautiful. His eyes are closed in concentration and bliss as his lips and tongue suckle and lick at me fervently. His mouth is curled into a sweet smile over my breast. He looks happy as a baby drinking from its mother. His hands run up and down my legs, over my waist, over my back, finally onto my behind which he squeezes with an enthusiastic moan. His hands are so big. I feel like they could almost span my entire body. They feel rough and hard against my skin. And hot. Everywhere he touches feels like a burning mass of flesh. His teeth clamp down on my nipple and I cry out at the feeling. At the way the bolt of pleasure and pain shoots through my entire body, finally centering on the damp part of me sliding up and down his stomach. He giggles against me and takes his mouth from me. "You like that Scully?" "Mmm yeah." I realize in some dim part of what is left of my brain that these are the first coherent words he has said in a long time. And if I had my wits about me I might be scared. I might realize that he is a little more in control of himself than I am at this point and that the shock of seeing me as a sexual being has started to abate a bit. That he can function and I cannot. That moving myself from his sex has shifted the balance slightly. But I am too far gone to worry about trivial matters like that. "God Scully there's so much I want to tell you. So much I wanna do for you." He is muttering all this to my breasts. "I wish there were words..." "No. No words. Show me." What am I asking for? I should really be afraid. He tugs at the waistband of my pajama bottoms and they start to slide off. I rise up for a moment to allow him to remove them completely and he pulls me further towards him. "C'mere Scully. C'mere." God. That mouth. Oh God. He drags my body up and over so that I am actually sitting up with my center resting on his face. The first touch of his tongue against me is almost enough to send me over the edge. It is that intense, that overwhelming. I think it is that way for him as well. The sounds he is making are even louder and more frantic than the ones coming from me. He is good. Jesus Christ is he good. Gotta love a man with an oral fixation. He is always biting, sucking, chewing on everything, anything. For once this habit is serving to please rather than frustrate me. He holds my ass in his hands as his strong tongue works its way around and over my clit, in and out of me. I look down at him. His eyes are open now. Open wide. He is staring at my face with a look of almost violent intensity in his eyes. What does he see? A crazed woman bouncing up and down on his face, that's what. I suppose I can see the appeal in that. As I let the waves of pleasure wash over me I am gripped by a sudden strange feeling of jealousy. Not over the women that have come before, so to speak. The women he must have perfected this technique on, cause it is perfect. No I don't care about them. My jealousy is for him. For the thrill he is getting out of making me feel this way. At the joy he obviously feels at being able to taste me. I want that too. Is it greedy to want to give and receive at the same time? I'm not sure and I really don't care. I look over my shoulder and see that he is definitely ready for me. He is hard and bulging through the flimsy material of his sweatpants. I want that. I need it. I have never done this before and the thought does make me somewhat nervous. I can't think of anything more intimate, any more revealing. But fear is not enough to quell the tide of desire that has overtaken me. I start to move, to position myself for this. He makes a sound of protest, thinking I suppose that I want him to stop. Maybe that I am afraid of what he's doing to me. But his sounds change when he realizes what I am really doing, what I can't stop myself from doing. I should tell her to stop. That she doesn't need to do this. That if she does this I am not going to be able to stop myself from coming and this is all gonna be over. But I can't. I can't because it is too fucking good. She's turned completely around and her sweet little ass is waving around in my face. One of her hands is stroking me through my sweatpants while the other works to untie the string holding on the only remaining article of clothing between us. It's taking her a damn long time. Probably because her hands are shaking so badly. She is still moaning and grinding against me as she does this. Then she makes a small frustrated sound and tugs hard. The string finally gives and she pulls my pants as far down as she can reach in this position, to my knees. I have never felt anything as amazing as giving her this pleasure, as tasting the musky, womanly taste of her. I have been thanking every higher power in the book for giving me this. Leave it to Scully to make it even better. Her tongue swirls around the head of my cock and the feeling is so surprising and amazing that I can't help but jerk up into her mouth. I can't help but take my mouth from her for just a second, just to say her name. Twice. Well not really say. More like shriek. Whatever. She chuckles. "Oh you like that Mulder?" My own words back to haunt me. All I can do in response is make some inhuman noise which I cannot even describe and bury my tongue inside her. She moans and takes me in. All of me. All the way. I move my tongue back to her clit and run back and forth in hard thorough strokes, the way she seems to enjoy, and slide one of my fingers into her. I am rewarded by her hot mouth tightening around me and sliding up and down. Jesus this is almost surreal. I've never even let myself dream of her this way. But it makes sense. It's perfect for us really. Total partnership. Pure give and take. As always. Soon we are completely in synch. Her head bobbing up and down in time with the thrust of my finger and the flick of my tongue. We start with a slow and steady rhythm which grows quicker and more frantic the closer we each get to the inevitable. Both of our groans of pleasure are muffled slightly due to the fact that out mouths are full. But I can still hear her. She sounds like heaven. And the wet slurping sounds she is making only add to the effect. Her juices drip down my chin, over my cheeks, everywhere. I love it. I want to be covered in them. Soon her whole body starts to tremble and I let myself go a little bit. She is close. I have been three seconds from orgasm for the past twenty minutes. Just a little bit longer. Her hips start grinding against my face and the sounds she is making are getting more and more extreme. Her head starts moving unbelievably fast and her lips tighten around me even more. I hope she is there because I can't hold it in anymore. I squeeze the cheeks of her behind as a warning. I am gonna come Scully. If you don't stop it right now I am gonna come. I am there Scully. God I am so there. Just as the last wall of my resolve breaks down she squeals and jerks frantically against me. She is coming. Thank you Jesus she is coming. And as soon as I realize this I am coming. I am pounding into her mouth with a complete abandon. The likes of which I have never known. And she is still coming. And I scream against her but I don't take my tongue from her because she is STILL coming. And I realize that I am still in her mouth, that she has swallowed everything that has come out of me. And that she is still coming. End part 5 of 6 Title: Volition Unbound (6/6) Author: Rachel Anton E-mail: RAnton1013@aol.com see part one for disclaimer, summary etc. Finally the spasms start to abate and the feel of his tongue becomes painful. I roll off him and collapse on the floor beside him. We lay together for a few minutes, trying to regain our breath, our sanity. He is still moaning. After awhile he sits up and reaches over to me. He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me up and to him. His embrace is so tight it's a little frightening. He kisses my neck and murmurs nonsense into my hair. He is still shaking. He rises to his feet with me still in his arms and carries me to the bed. Oh yeah the bed. Forgot we had one of those. We hold each other's sweaty, trembling bodies for a moment and then his lips find mine. This kiss is less frenzied and even more intimate than our first. This is slow and sensual and gives us both the chance to revel in our own taste on the others lips and tongues. It is a long kiss. Perhaps the longest I have ever had. I lose all track of time and space in this kiss. His hands run through my hair over and over with a gentleness and reverence I have never seen in him. Mine are wrapped tightly around his back. They barely reach each other. Finally we separate, needing air and rest. Our eyes meet and I see such tenderness, such trust, such open adoration that I actually feel my stomach clench and my eyes start to tear. "Scully" He whispers my name and strokes my face. "Oh Scully." "I know Mulder. I know." I bury my head under his chin and take a nibble on his chest. He moans and laughs simultaneously and pulls me closer. "Do you know? Do you really? Do you have any idea what you do to me? How you feel..how you make me feel..how you feel to me..oh God Scully. Never mind. I am so terrible at this." "No, no you're doing fine Mulder. You're doing wonderfully. You don't have to be a poet. I know how you feel. You show me every day." "No baby I don't." Baby? "Not really. I don't know if anything could show you." "Mulder what did you just call me?" "Huh? I dunno, Scully?" "No, you...you called me baby." I'm not sure why this is such a big deal to me. After what we just did I can't believe anything would throw me. But that was sex. Phenomenal, mind bending, intimate beyond words, but sex nonetheless. This is...baby! He laughs in a self-conscious way and I immediately feel guilty for calling him on it. "Oh..I...um I guess I did. Does...does that bother you?" Bother me? God no. But what does it do to me? "No, no I like it. I like it a lot." He relaxes against me and kisses the top of my head. "You wanna be my baby Scully?" Okay now I know. I know what it does to me. It turns me on. It makes me tingle everywhere and sends the butterflies in my stomach into overdrive. Hearing his gravely, sexy voice calling me that turns me into complete jelly and I have no idea why. "I think I already am Mulder. After what we just did I certainly hope I am." "Hey Scully you think we broke any local laws? You know lots of places are very strict about this kind of thing." "I don't know about local law but I'm sure we broke every rule in the big book of FBI protocol." "Well hell Scully, according to that book I shouldn't even be in your room." We both have a good laugh over that one. FBI protocol has never been high on Mulder's list of priorities. And it has been sinking on my list since the day I met him. The rules just don't make room for people like us. "I am sorry in a way that I came so soon. I mean I really want to be inside you Scully." "Mulder we have all night. Don't tell me I tired you out already." His chest puffs out in mock indigence. "Certainly not. I'm an athlete Scully. A real man." I can't help but chuckle at that. "You dare to mock super macho stamina man Scully?" Now I am really laughing. "You better watch out Scully or you might never know the true pleasure of the Mulderloveinjection." That's it. It's all over. I collapse against him in hysterics and he joins me. We are absolutely giddy. That is the only explanation for this. After several minutes of silly jokes and shared laughter we start kissing again. Gentle butterfly kisses covering each other's lips, cheeks, eyelids. I stroke his back and slowly my hands travel to his perfect, tight little butt. I clutch it with both hands and squeeze. Suddenly his kiss turns more passionate and his arms tighten around me. I knead the hard flesh in my fingers and he groans into my mouth. I feel his cock hardening against my belly and I chuckle again. "Sensitive ass Mulder?" He looks a little embarrassed and shrugs. "Um..kind of." "Guess we don't need all night after all super macho man." I shouldn't be shocked to be so aroused again so soon. It makes perfect sense really. Five years of repression, denial and avoidance just came crashing down on my head and I have seen my partner become not just a sexual being but the most sexual being I have ever known. I am in bed with the woman I love more than life itself and she is horny as hell. Why wouldn't I be hard again? Still I am shocked. I hadn't expected it quite so soon. Shocked but pleased. And just a little bit self congratulatory. Of course it's not me that deserves to be congratulated. It's Scully. Always Scully. No one else would be able to do this to me. She is so tiny. I am struck by this now that we are lying beside each other. Our heads are level as we kiss and her little feet are dangling somewhere around my knees. I am almost afraid to lay on top of her. What if I crush her? Not that I should assume that's how we're going to do it of course. It's the most obvious way but Scully and I are not usually want to do the obvious thing. Maybe she'll want to be on top. That would be no surprise. My mind, suddenly free to think of Scully in this manner, begins concocting various scenarios and positions, imagining them. As she wraps her leg over my waist and grinds against me I am flooded by dozens of fantasies, each more tempting than the last. I wonder, has she allowed herself to imagine this before tonight? Does she have a store of fantasies, built up in her from the past five years? Her hands are still on my ass and she pulls me against her moaning her eagerness into my mouth. She's so wet. So close. I could just do it right now. But I want to know. I need to know. I have to know how to best please her. What are her fantasies? What can I do to make them reality? "Scully?" "Mmm wha..?" "Scully have you ever imagined this before?" She pulls away a bit and smiles. "Um..you could say that." "I mean really, really imagined. I mean have you had fantasies about this?" "Of course." "Like what?" My whisper is urgent and demanding. She looks a little flustered and confused. I don't want to scare her. God I just want to know. "Um...I don't..." "Tell me your favorite. Tell me how you want it Scully. Tell me what you need." "Mulder...I.." She is blushing profusely now. Is this too much? An invasion? Something she can't even trust me with? Have I ruined this already? "I want to please you Scully. I want it to be everything you need." I tilt her chin up and force her to look into my eyes. "Tell me Scully. Trust me. Show me." She kisses me and when she pulls back we are both gasping. She smiles shyly and shrugs. "O..Okay." She moves a few inches away from me and takes a deep breath. She licks her lips nervously and looks at me with a mixture of faith and trepidation. This is really hard for her. But she's going to do it anyway. For me. For us. I love her. She rolls over onto her stomach and slowly rises until she is on her hands and knees facing the headboard. She looks over her shoulder at me, still blushing, and I hope to God that the shock I am feeling doesn't show on my face. She whispers to me, so quietly I have to strain to hear her. But hear her I do. "Like this. Like an animal." For a terrifying second I am sure that I'm going to come right now. Happily I manage to restrain myself from that extreme and instead simply grunt in response. This is how she wants it. Like an animal. That phrase bounces around in my brain until it becomes the only thing I can hear. Like an animal. Like an animal. Sweet Jesus, Scully wants me to fuck her like an animal. She has imagined this. Fantasized about it. Why am I just sitting here gaping and moaning? Jesus Christ. I rise up to my knees and place a hungry, needy kiss on her trembling lips. I run a trail of kisses over her neck and down her back as I move behind her. Once I have positioned myself I stop to admire the view for a moment. I grasp her hips with one hand and my cock with the other. She bends her back down and arches herself in the air so that I can see the glistening moisture of her entrance from behind. I think I am drooling. God. Scully. Have mercy on me. Like an animal. Don't forget that Mulder. Like an animal. Somehow I don't think that's gonna be a problem. I can't believe I am doing this. I can't believe I am exposing myself to him this way. Again. I look back at him and realize that it is worth it. Just to see that look on his face. Just to hear him breathing so fast and so shallowly that I am concerned for a moment that he is hyperventilating. And then to feel him. To finally really feel him. He enters me gently. One long slow stroke. As he slides into me he emits a low continuous "oh" and when he is completely inside a nice drawn out "baaaabbbyyy". My new favorite word. He stops moving completely and bites his lip. He looks almost pained. "What's wrong?" "Just need a minute. Scully. God it just feels so good. I'm afraid as soon as I start moving I'm gonna come." He takes several deep calming breaths and slowly starts moving. His hands grip my hips tightly and his eyes never leave mine as he starts driving into me. Long, deep thrusts. Slow at first but gradually increasing in pace. His rhythm is perfect. His face, beaded with sweat, jaw slack, eyes wild, is beautiful. The sounds he is making, the cries, the supplications, fill me emotionally as his body does physically. I am quickly losing coherent thought and slipping into an almost dreamlike state. So good. It's so damn good. His body drapes down over mine. His hands grasp my own as they clutch desperately at the bedsheets. I feel his tongue begin to probe the inside of my ear as his pounding starts to grow more intense, harder and faster. I start to move in response to his thrusts without even realizing it. I am moaning and sighing in a way I never have before. In a real way. In a way I can't control. Not for him. Not even for me. Just because I can't help it. Every time he crashes into me I feel chills radiating out in every direction. My God what he does to me. It defies description. I want to tell him. I want him to know how it feels. "Mulder...God Mulder I...oh God...oh yeah..." Real articulate. Oh well. I take it on faith that he knows what I am trying to say here. He roars into my ear and the sound is deafening and wonderful. His hands reach over my head and latch onto the headboard which is already colliding with the wall with every slam against me. I start to feel the warning tremors of a shattering orgasm and tighten around him. "Harder Mulder. Harder." "God. Scully. Love you. Oh my God I love you." He nibbles at my ear and starts pounding into me at a rapid fire pace. So hard that I feel my teeth rattling. His mouth travels to the back of my neck. He pulls my hair away into his fist and bites down on the skin there. As his movements become more frantic and abrupt his teeth tighten on me. It should hurt but it barely registers because of the extreme nature of the pleasure in the rest of my body. His head starts to thrash around wildly and he is growling, actually growling, and still he doesn't let go. I feel his body start to shake violently and I know he's close. He is driving into me like a madman and holding me in place with his teeth and I realize, this is what I asked him for. Like an animal. He certainly took that to heart. And I also realize why I wanted that. His complete abandon is causing me to sacrifice all control. I am lost to his savage, unrestrained lovemaking and that is exactly the way I need to be. And I know it's what he needs as well. We've both been living under a cloud of repression for so long. We need to let go. We need to be free. We need to be animals. His free hand slips under me and I feel his palm pressing hard against my clit, grinding it carelessly. It's pain and sweet pleasure and deliverance all at once. It is just enough and too much and then I am coming. I thrust back against him furiously and let out a blood curdling scream. His growls become louder and more frantic and his movements completely feral. His teeth pull and twist my flesh and his body starts to spasm into mine. I feel him expanding inside me and finally bursting, shooting his seed through my body. When the tremors subside I collapse onto the bed flat on my stomach. He falls with me his hot, damp, heavy body rests on top of mine. I am spent. I am exhilarated. I am free. She is bleeding. Oh my God she is bleeding. How long have we been lying here like this? I have no idea but this is the first coherent thought I've had in a long time. She is bleeding. I move her hair away from the sticky, festering wound and put my mouth over it. "I'm sorry sweetheart. I hurt you." "Mmmm...huh?" "You're bleeding." I kiss the lesion again and start running my tongue over it, cleaning it. She sighs happily and I feel a little less guilty. Still she is going to need more than my saliva to make it better. I am going to have to clean and dress her injury. She won't be able to reach it. But for now it's enough to kiss it and hold her. I roll off her body because I am sure my weight is crushing her and pull her so that her back is against my chest and my arms are wrapped around her. My precious little angel. My tough as nails partner. My hot, passionate lover. My hopes and my fears. My baby. My Scully. Her breathing starts to level off and I can tell she is drifting into sleep. I'm glad. I was thrilled to make her fantasy come true. It was absolutely amazing. I have never in my life let myself go like that. I've never felt so free. And Scully. My God she was incredible. I've never seen anything like it. And now she is fulfilling my fantasy. This is one Scully daydream I have allowed myself. Holding her as she sleeps. It's something I have wanted since the first time I saw her sleeping. It was in my car, on a stakeout, and I was amazed at how pretty and young she looked as she slept. At how her eyes shifted under their lids making me wonder what she dreamt about. All I wanted to do was pull her into my embrace and to never let go. I should really be scared right now. I should be wondering what is going to happen tomorrow. I should be planning how we are going to handle this when we get back home. I should be concocting paranoid scenarios in my mind and figuring out how to protect our love from whatever might happen. But I can't. Not right now. Right now it's enough to finally have my fantasy realized. I am not afraid. I'm just not. Tomorrow I will try to figure out why. But not tonight. I still hate planes. That is one affliction no amount of the Mulderloveinjection will ever cure. This morning after we made the reservations for this flight I ran to the bathroom and vomited profusely. Poor Mulder actually thought it was a side effect of his lovemaking. It took me at least a half an hour to convince him that this happens every time I have to fly. Then he cried because he felt so bad for me. He is such a sap. I've gotten the answers to at least two of my speculative questions about a relationship with Mulder. Yes he gives big, wet kisses in airports. He started tonguing me at the luggage check in for no reason whatsoever. I wasn't really thinking of instances where we would be getting on the same plane. I can't even imagine what it will be like when we get on different ones. Still don't know about the dates and the couch cuddles but the sex..well..wow. Not a whole lot more to say. As for dominating every minute of my time, being demanding, well we all knew the answer to that one already now didn't we. I look out the window nervously as the wheels start scraping against the tarmac. His hand runs over the bandage on the back of my neck and I turn around to face him. He looks so good this morning. Bags under his eyes, unshaven, but beaming. Glowing. In an almost unearthly way. "Still hurt?" I shake my head no, but we both know it's a lie. "Well yeah actually. A little. But it's a good hurt." A good hurt indeed. Every jolt of pain brings to mind a set of images forever burned into my memory. I will associate pain in the back of my neck with the ecstasy of orgasm for the rest of my life. Our speed increases dramatically and equilibrium is lost as the front of the plane dips forward and the wheels retract under us. I clench my hands tightly together on my lap and close my eyes. I feel another hand, large enough to clamp over both of mine. And an arm, wrapped protectively around my shoulders, clutching me to him. He buries his face in the crook of my neck and places a gentle kiss there. He whispers in my ear. "It's almost over baby." Popping ears, churning stomach, jangled nerves. It's still the same as ever. Well not exactly the same. Baby. That's certainly different. I am scared. I am nauseous. But I am Mulder's baby. And that makes everything seem a little better. Even this. Once we stabilize above the clouds I can relax a bit. My hands unclench and the stiffness in my posture slackens. Mulder's hand moves from mine to rest on my leg which he caresses in a way meant to comfort. Or perhaps to arouse. Like every touch from him, it does both. I must admit that is my greatest fear about our relationship. I know it seems unusual. I expected to be more worried about our jobs, our enemies, our love being used against us in some dreadful way. And I am worried about these things to a certain degree. But not as much as I thought. I have faith in our ability to face any obstacle thrown our way. Hell we've managed so far. I expected to be more worried about us. About our mutual tendencies to fear closeness, to run from attachments rather than being hurt. This does not concern me at all anymore. Mulder is certainly not running. He seems to have dived into this head first. He is scared but he's not going anywhere. He's too addicted to my attention and petting already. And as for me, I decided a long time ago that if the most emotionally dysfunctional person in the world could handle this than so could I. No my biggest fear is not any of these things. It is simply the magic of his touch. The distraction of it. I sincerely hope that I am still able to carry on with my work and daily life without being sexually frustrated to the point of insanity all the time. It's true. It's even worse now that I have know the pleasure of his love, the joy of his passion. I can hardly think of anything else. I honestly believe this could be a problem. As if to prove the validity of this theory Mulder squeezes my inner thigh, sending a pool of wetness to gather and congregate in the crotch of my panties. I don't even know if I can make it through this flight. I feel myself sliding down in my seat, almost without realizing it, trying subconsciously to bring myself closer to that hand. He chuckles into my ear, immediately recognizing the sign of my arousal and whispers to me. "You cold Scully?" I look at him curiously and he waggles his eyebrows at me. Is that some kind of code word for horny? "I think you should put this over your lap." He takes his jacket off and places it over my legs. His hand slides under the jacket to grasp my thigh again. And slowly but surely that hand starts to creep further and further up my leg. I start to see where this is going and realize something very important. I don't need to fear this either. Like everything else, we can figure out a way to handle it. Communication. Silent, unspoken. It works in every situation.