Like A Red, Red Rose by Audrey Cooper xf_writer@geocities.com February, 1997 Summary: Scully, Mulder, a red rose, and Valentine's Day. An answer to Deb's challenge. Spoilers: Nope. Classification/Rating: VH. UST. PG. Disclaimer: Ok, guys and gals, you know the drill... Mulder and Scully don't belong to me. Neither do any of the other characters mentioned in this story. They are the creations and property of Chris Carter, Fox Broadcasting, and 1013 Productions, and have been used without permission. Author's Notes follow the story. I would appreciate feedback in any shape or form. ********************************************************************** Like A Red, Red Rose by Audrey Cooper xf_writer@geocities.com Scully didn't bother shutting the door behind her as she entered her rarely used fourth floor office. She had only stopped by to pick up some files and didn't plan on staying long. She often wondered why she even bothered to keep her own office, when she was so rarely in it. She got the files she needed from her filing cabinet, then stopped as she turned to leave. There was a rose on her desk. A red rose. A red ribbon was tied around its long stem, leading to a creamy white card. She dropped the files onto the desk, then picked up the rose and brought it to her nose. A slight frown crossed her face. The rose had no scent. Looking at it more closely, she realized that it wasn't a real flower. It was made of fabric, fabric that was soft and silky to the touch. She opened the small square of parchment attached to the ribbon. It was engraved, the letters curving sensuously on the paper: Your fire burns my heart This rose is no match for you You look good in red Happy Valentine's Day There was no signature. Now who would write her such a pretty haiku? The images of fire, burning, and matches; heart, red and rose were simple, but gave off heat. She inspected the rose again, turning it this way and that in the light from the window. Grasping one silky petal, she pulled, and was not at all surprised when the rose unfurled into a very pretty pair of silk and lace barely there underwear. No, not underwear. A thong, that's what it was. Scully smiled. Oh, really? All right, unseen admirer. Let's see if I can find you. ***** "Agent Pendrell?" "How can I help you, Agent Scully?" "What do you think of thongs?" Pendrell spit out the coffee he had just brought to his mouth onto his computer monitor. "*What?*" "You know, thong underwear." "Uh..." Pendrell squeaked. "Oh, never mind." Nope. ***** "Lone Gunman." "Frohike, turn off the recorder." "It's off." "I mean it!" "Okay, okay, it's off! What can I do for you, Agent Scully?" "Are Byers and Langly there?" "Right here," Byers answered. "Me, too," Langly chimed in. "I have a very important question to ask you all." "Anything for you, Agent Scully," Frohike said smarmily. "What do you think of thong underwear?" Byers choked, then covered it with a cough. Langly burst out laughing. And Frohike made a "uh-uh-uh" sound. "Byers, Langly, make sure Frohike doesn't swallow his tongue, okay?" Shit. Now she'd have to put up with thong jokes for the rest of her life. ***** "Sir?" "You asked to see me, Agent Scully?" "Yes, sir. I wanted your opinion on something." "What is it, Scully?" "What do you think of thongs?" The A.D.'s face swept with crimson. He took off his glasses and leaned his elbows on his desk. "Agent Scully, are you feeling all right?" "Fine, sir. Thank you, sir." She backed out his door and closed it quietly. Whoa, close one. ***** "Mulder?" "Hmmmm?" "What do you think of thongs?" "Thongs? As in leather thongs for tying you up with, or as in thong underwear?" He raised his eyes from the report he was studying to leer suggestively at her. She gave him a Mulder-behave-yourself-or-die look. "Thong underwear." He rubbed his chin meditatively. "I think they're very sexy. Just your style, Scully." He cracked a grin. "Especially red silk. Why, are you thinking of trying one for a change?" "Actually, no." She arched an eyebrow at his disappointment. "They're what I normally wear. Thanks for the Valentine, Mulder. They're very... comfortable." _____ End Author's Notes: Thanks to Deb for beta reading, for feeding my imagination (it's a hungry beast!) and for always being there. For those of you who are interested, the story titles in this series, which should be available at any of the wonderful Gossamer archives, (if you can't find them, mail me and I'll send them to you) are: Like A Red, Red Rose Like A Red, Red Rose II - Like The Melodie Like A Red, Red Rose III - Newly Sprung; Sweetly Play'd Like A Red, Red Rose IV - My Luve Is *NC-17* Like A Red, Red Rose V - Rosebud *NC-17* Like A Red, Red Rose VI - Blushing Rose *NC-17* So, please, let me know what you think... Audrey Cooper xf_writer@geocities.com S: "If I were that stoned..." M: "Ooooh, if you were that stoned, what?" The X-Files, Deep Throat Like A Red, Red Rose II - Like The Melodie (1/1) by Audrey Cooper xf_writer@geocities.com February, 1997 Summary: Mulder contemplates Scully's reaction to his Valentine's Day gift. Spoilers: Pilot. Classification/Rating: V. MSR -- Major UST! Strong R. Disclaimer: Blah, blah...oh, you're actually reading it. Ok, guys and gals, you know the drill... Mulder and Scully don't belong to me. They are the creations and property of Chris Carter, Fox, and 1013 Productions, and have been used without permission. This is a sequel to Like A Red, Red Rose. This *can* stand alone, but it would probably make more sense if you read that one first. Author's Notes follow the story. I would appreciate feedback in any shape or form. ********************************************************************** Like A Red, Red Rose II - Like The Melodie (1/1) by Audrey Cooper xf_writer@geocities.com Mulder couldn't stop thinking about it. Scully usually wore them. She was wearing it now. He swallowed, hard. Thong underwear. *The* thong. God. The one he had chosen after an entire evening's deliberation, of delectation. The one he had unwrapped with such care from the layers of tissue. The one he had stroked slowly and secretly over his face, enjoying the silky feel. The one he had run down his chest, wishing it was her touching him. The one he had wrapped around his bare hard shaft, sliding it lightly up and down, imagining it was her hands, her mouth, her heat. He had refused to come, enjoying the fantasy too much. He would not. He didn't want to risk ruining the delicate fabric. When he had finally pulled the cloth away and folded it into the petals of a rose, his hands had been trembling with the force of his hunger. And she had *teased* him with it! *Scully*! "They're very...comfortable." She was wearing it. That microscopic scrap of silk and lace. It was touching her. Touching her *there*. God. It was almost like being inside her. He had wrapped the fabric around himself, now it was wrapped around her. Just thinking about it made him hot. How it would look on her; how it would cup her in front, the soft silk and lace framing her even softer, silkier flesh; how it would disappear between the cheeks of her ass. It had a tiny satin bow in back, where the string met the waist. He could picture it, nestled in the small of her back, laying against her in the place he touched her most often. He stared at her, then dropped his eyes to his lap as she looked up from her paperwork. He shifted in his chair, discreetly rearranging himself; trying to ease his discomfort as his erection strained against his boxers. He never would have figured it. Not the thong itself. That was easy enough to swallow. He chewed the inside of his bottom lip. She was a beautiful, sensuous woman who restrained her sensuality. She might wear sensible suits with knee-length skirts and baggy off duty clothes, but the lipstick was a dead giveaway. That deep stain of color on her lips. And the shoes. The heels, the rich texture of them, suede and patent leather. They were fuck-me shoes, plain and simple. He may have only glimpsed her satin underwear once by candlelight, but that once had been enough to fuel midnight fantasies for years. A bit plain, but classy. Nice. Very nice. He could recognize Victoria's Secret when he saw it. No, it wasn't the thong. It was that she hadn't backed down when he teased her about tying her up with the leather thongs, just given him one of her Looks; she had, in fact, given as good as she got. It was that she had the nerve to tantalize him with the thought. The thought that she was *wearing* the damn thing. Wearing it *right now*. She had thrown the gauntlet down. Thank heaven for boxers and pleated pants. He might have strangled by now in briefs. The question was: What was he going to do about it? He knew what he wanted to do. Oh, yeah. No, the *real* question was: Would she let him? Two could play at this. She hadn't said anything about the haiku, but he had seen the corner of the card sticking out of her jacket pocket. Her hand kept coming up off the keyboard unconsciously, fingering it, touching it. It was straightforward, but maybe it was a bit too tame. Maybe he should push a little and see what would happen. He snatched up a pen quickly and, without giving himself too much time to think, scribbled Rosy pink, blush red Silken petals unfolding Fragrant, soft and sweet Be Mine in his bold hand. Was it too much? He didn't care. He had to try. He glanced up at her and was thankful to see she was still bent over her paperwork. He got up and shrugged into his jacket, then crossed the room to her. She looked up at him, her mouth on level with his hips... Down, boy! He lay a hand gently on her shoulder and squeezed lightly, smiling down at her. "Happy Valentine's Day, Scully. I'll see you on Monday." Her lips twitched and she favored him with one of her Scully Specials. "Have a good weekend, Mulder. And thanks again." He gave her shoulder one last squeeze and, while she was still looking up at him, slid the folded haiku just under the edge of her keyboard and made his escape. It was in the hands of the gods. _____ End Author's Notes: Thanks, as always, to Deb for her encouragement and for beta reading. Special thanks to Bob, for his support and inspiration. Lydia, this one's for you! For those of you who are interested, the story titles in this series, which should be available at any of the wonderful Gossamer archives, (if you can't find them, mail me and I'll send them to you) are: Like A Red, Red Rose Like A Red, Red Rose II - Like The Melodie Like A Red, Red Rose III - Newly Sprung; Sweetly Play'd Like A Red, Red Rose IV - My Luve Is Like A Red, Red Rose V - Rosebud Like A Red, Red Rose VI - Blushing Rose So, please, let me know what you think... Audrey Cooper xf_writer@geocities.com S: "Business must be booming." M: "I think you mean banging." The X-Files, Avatar Like A Red, Red Rose III - Newly Sprung; Sweetly Play'd (1/1) by Audrey Cooper xf_writer@geocities.com March, 1997 Summary: Scully contemplates Mulder and his Valentine's Day gift to her. Spoilers: Nope. Classification/Rating: V. MSR -- Major UST! Strong R. Disclaimer: Blah, blah...oh, you're actually reading it. Ok, guys and gals, you know the drill... Mulder and Scully don't belong to me. Neither do any of the other characters mentioned in this story. They are the creations and property of Chris Carter, Fox, and 1013 Productions, and have been used without permission. This is a companion to Like The Melodie, which is a sequel to Like A Red, Red Rose. This *can* stand alone, but it would probably make more sense if you read that first. Author's Notes follow the story. I would appreciate feedback in any shape or form. ********************************************************************** Like A Red, Red Rose III - Newly Sprung; Sweetly Play'd (1/1) by Audrey Cooper xf_writer@geocities.com Scully couldn't stop thinking about it. Mulder had given her a thong. A *thong*! She was wearing it now. It rubbed against her with every minute change of position in a most pleasantly irritating way. She swallowed, hard. God. She hadn't been able to resist teasing him with it, not after he had invoked the very clear image of him tying her up. "They're very...comfortable." His eyes had blazed at her for long seconds before he dropped them back down to the report he had been studying, strangely silent. She had been shocked breathless. She hadn't wanted to believe Mulder had given her the gift. She had asked anyone and everyone who was even remotely possible before asking him. Pendrell, The Lone Gunmen. She had even gone way out on a limb and asked Skinner. Because if *Mulder* had given it to her... She had a definite problem. She never would have figured it. Not the thong itself. It was only a small step outside the range of his repertoire of sexual innuendo and double entendre. That was easy enough to swallow. This was Mulder she was dealing with, after all. His predilection for silk boxers for himself lead to the realization that buying silk thong underwear for her wouldn't faze him in the slightest. He was rawly sexual, in the way she found most appealing. The cut of his suits, the way his jeans hugged his ass and cradled him in front... She found his naughty schoolboy preference for X rated movies, magazines and his own hand rather endearing. It was smart. He had some need for release. He was a healthy male in his prime. Admit it. *All right*. Just thinking about him touching himself made her hot. No, it wasn't the thong. It was the haiku that had come with it. It was unbearably romantic. Sweet. Tender. Coupled with the thong, it revealed far more of Mulder than he probably knew. She touched the creamy parchment again, then snatched her hand back, as if the card itself might burst into flame. She stilled suddenly, feeling the whisper and slide of silk and lace between her legs. It was almost like having him touching her. Touching her *there*. With his fingers. His mouth. His... God. Mulder shifted in his chair incessantly, driving her crazy with the sound of wool gabardine. She looked up, almost catching him staring at her. Did he think she didn't know? That she couldn't tell? She watched him openly, knowing that he wouldn't look up again so soon after the last time. She could almost see the wheels turning in his mind, revving up to peel-out speed. He looked flushed and more than a little dangerous, his eyes glinting with something she had caught flashes of, but had never had turned on her full-force. Arousal. Desire. For her. He had no idea what that did to her. God help her if he actually *did* turn it on her full-force. The bare glimpse she had just received was nearly enough to give her heart failure. He suddenly grabbed for a pen and started writing. She bent over her paperwork, letting the fall of her hair conceal the flush in her own cheeks. She heard him moving around and looked up as he approached her. The heat of his hand on her shoulder burned right through her jacket and blouse. He was standing so close. If she leaned forward, she could have him in her mouth... Stop that! Her lips twitched, and she smiled up at him. She couldn't risk it, she wouldn't. It took all of her not inconsiderable willpower to keep her eyes on his and to answer him neutrally. She breathed out a huge sigh after he left and raised her trembling hands to the keyboard, knocking a slip of paper to the ground. She looked at the door again before bending down to pick it up and unfold it. She read the haiku and its brief coda twice before closing her eyes and slipping it into her jacket pocket beside the first. It was blatantly erotic. Sexy to the extreme. Oh, really, Fox Mulder? We'll have to see about this. _____ End Author's Notes: Thanks, as always, to Deb for her wicked sense of humor and for beta reading. Special thanks to Bob, for his support and inspiration. For those of you who are interested, the story titles in this series, which should be available at any of the wonderful Gossamer archives, (if you can't find them, mail me and I'll send them to you) are: Like A Red, Red Rose Like A Red, Red Rose II - Like The Melodie Like A Red, Red Rose III - Newly Sprung; Sweetly Play'd Like A Red, Red Rose IV - My Luve Is *NC-17* Like A Red, Red Rose V - Rosebud *NC-17* Like A Red, Red Rose VI - Blushing Rose *NC-17* So, please, let me know what you think... Audrey Cooper xf_writer@geocities.com S: "Now we all have a natural instinct to propagate." M: "Do we?" The X-Files, Home Like A Red, Red Rose IV - My Luve Is *NC-17* (1/1) by Audrey Cooper xf_writer@geocities.com March, 1997 Summary: Mulder and Scully explore the feelings brought to light by his Valentine's Day gift to her. Spoilers: Nope. Classification/Rating: V. MSR. NC-17. Disclaimer: Blah, blah...oh, you're actually reading it. Ok, guys and gals, you know the drill... Mulder and Scully don't belong to me. They are the creations and property of Chris Carter, Fox, and 1013 Productions, and have been used without permission. This is a sequel to Like A Red, Red Rose III - Newly Sprung; Sweetly Play'd'. This *can* stand alone, but it would probably make more sense if you read that first. Author's Notes follow the story. I would appreciate feedback in any shape or form. ********************************************************************** Like A Red, Red Rose IV - My Luve Is *NC-17* (1/1) by Audrey Cooper xf_writer@geocities.com "Mulder, it's me." His hand stopped moving. "Are you there?" She grumbled something under her breath. He grinned as he just barely made out "damned exasperating man". Almost unconsciously, he began stroking himself again, imagining her wearing the thong, wishing... "I need to see you." He could hear the indecision in her voice. Then, firmly, "I'm coming over there, Mulder." Oh, shit. His hand stilled again, gripping almost painfully. He was so close... "I've got something I want to...show you." Her voice dipped way down on the last two words, and he sucked in his breath as he came. ***** Scully stood outside Mulder's door, gathering courage. She was on a roller coaster, locked in by the bar of her own desire. Hitching up and up and up. Equal parts fear and anticipation shimmered down her back, peaking her nipples, making her breath come more quickly. This will work. We can make this work. He had been bold enough to write her those haiku, allowing her to see his vulnerability, his heart. His desire. It was only right that she show him her vulnerability and heart in return. Not to mention the simmering arousal he had lit in her. She was determined to see this through, wanting it with a force that shocked her in its intensity. I'll show you mine if you show me yours. She smiled slightly at that and knocked on his door. ***** When Mulder answered the door wearing tight black jeans and a black mock turtleneck with the sleeves pushed up, Scully forgot how to breathe. He had looked more than a little dangerous before. Now, he was lethal. Lord, give me strength! "Scully--" The low rumble of his voice got her breath started again. Oh, no! Not that dark velvet voice. Not yet. I don't know what I'm going to say! Up and up and up. The first hill on any roller coaster is always the highest. "Sshhhh." Impulsively, she laid the fingers of one hand across his lips, feeling their softness, feeling the heat of him. He nodded silently and backed up two steps, gesturing her inside. She followed him into the dimness of his apartment, shut the door behind her and turned the dead bolt without looking away from his face. The click of the latch sliding home was very loud. Ah, blessed inspiration! "That's how well we'll fit together, Mulder," Scully said softly as she came further into the apartment. "That smoothly, that snugly." She dropped her gaze down, focusing on his mouth as he licked his lips, then raised it back up to lock on his eyes. Her eyes sparkled with an inner fire. God. He was rooted to the floor, hypnotized by her slow advance. She had on the red suit she had worn to work. That meant she was still wearing the thong. It was still touching her, cupping her, caressing her... His hands curled at his sides. Although the orgasm he had not more than a hour before was very intense, he was instantly hard for her, wanting her. He realized she had asked him something. He shook his head slightly, and she repeated, "Don't you think so, Mulder?" He swallowed, trying to get some saliva back into his dry mouth. "Think...what?" Up and up, closer and closer to that point of no return. No getting off this ride. "That we'll fit together as well as that lock. Tightly. With just the right amount of...friction." Her voice got softer and softer. He swallowed again. "Uh..." It was amazing. She had turned him into a sixteen year old with a hard-on instead of a brain with just a look and a couple of sentences. She was seducing him. The way he had seduced her. With hot, dark words. Scully stopped bare inches from him, tilting her head back to keep her eyes on his. "Does your skin feel too tight, Mulder? Does it feel so sensitive that clothing is torture? That the air itself is almost too much to bear?" He nodded. "That's just the way I felt when I read those haiku, Mulder. Itchy. *Hot*. Unable to put two words together in a coherent sentence. Do you have any idea what you've done?" she asked huskily. That indefinable *something* flared again in his eyes, showing her the dangerous man she had seen briefly at the office, making her very aware of the line she was walking. Hanging dangerously over the chasm that followed that long hill upwards, she sucked in her breath and waited. "Mine?" he asked softly. His heart was pounding so hard surely she must hear it. Scully reached up and curled one hand around his neck, drawing his head down. His warm breath touched her face as she whispered, "Yours." Every nerve ending in her body was sensitized, drawn up in screaming anticipation of that first drop. His mouth was so close, almost brushing her own. "I always have been." "Scully." He clenched his hands into tight fists to keep from grabbing her and pushing her up against the door, from shoving her skirt up and finding out if that thong would stand up to a good strong tug. Was he going to push her away? "Yes, Mulder?" He only looked at her, into her. She knew what he was looking for. She was incandescent, the glow of her desire flushing her translucent skin with warmth. Poised over the abyss, hung up at the top of what was either going to be a shattering fall or a delicious ride, she closed her eyes, then opened them and pushed. The anticipation was killing her. "No leather thongs needed. Unless..." "Scully--" "I trust you, Mulder." He backed away three steps. "I want to see." Whoosh! Her heart jolted in her chest as she flew over the top and down the slope of that oh-so-scary huge first hill. She smiled at him, showing her teeth. His mouth curled up into a wicked answering grin. "See what? That I trust you?" she asked, all innocence, feeling her mind and body gearing up for the next peak. Her nipples were tight and hard against her bra. The silk of it rasped against her with every breath. "Show me," he growled. "All right." She shrugged off her trench and laid it over the console table by the door. Mulder backed off another two steps and shoved his trembling hands into his pockets, pulling his already tight jeans almost painfully taut over his swollen flesh. He didn't want to interrupt this. Uh-uh. No way. Undressing for him while he watched made her feel wanton. Each piece of clothing she removed was another small peak and dip on that roller coaster, going faster and faster. Scully unbuttoned her suit jacket, shrugged that off, then tossed it on top of her trench. Her weapon was carefully laid aside. She had on one of the short sleeved knit tops she favored. Crossing her arms in front of her, she grasped the material at her waist and tugged upward. The top joined the pile of clothing on the table. Watching him watching her was more exciting than she would have believed. The way his mouth opened slightly, the tip of his tongue caught between his teeth; the way his breathing stopped, then started again at a faster pace, as she took off each piece of clothing. The silk between her legs burned. She was shaking now, and she fumbled at the hook and loop fastening of her skirt twice before she managed to get it undone. She couldn't bear to look away from his face to see what she was doing. Up and up. The zipper was easier. She shimmied her hips and the skirt pooled at her feet. She kicked it away and stood in bra and thong, thigh high stockings and high heeled black suede pumps. Mulder's breath came in and stayed in. God, she was beautiful. The creamy skin stretched over her collarbone and the upper swells of her breasts were scattered with freckles, like a handful of fairy dust on snow. He said it aloud, expelling his breath with a harsh sigh. "God, you're beautiful." "You make me feel beautiful," she answered, watching his eyes. They were dilated widely, inky black pupils surrounded by gray, shot with green and gold, blue and brown. All the possible colors, melding into the most fascinating mixture she had ever seen. Quartz eyes, glittering with a fierce hunger. Her heart stuttered and her legs gave way just a little before she locked her knees. Her bra was red silk and lace. It matched the thong he had given her almost exactly. It even had a tiny satin bow in the center, cradled between her breasts. "Wearing red for Valentine's Day, Scully?" he asked hoarsely. "Turn around." She turned slowly in place, hearing him suck in his breath again at the sight of her ass, framed by the thong's silky strings. She looked over her shoulder at him, then turned back around to face him fully. Up still, pushing him along with her. "Now show me what's mine," she said. Mulder pulled his hands from his pockets slowly and shook his head. "Not yet. If I take off my clothes, I'll be inside you in seconds, then it'll all be over but the shouting. And I want this to be slow, oh...so...slow. I want it to last forever." Scully closed her eyes and shivered as her mind flickered with the images he had just invoked. She opened them again to discover he was approaching her silently. He trailed his fingers lightly down the side of her face, staring deep into her eyes, as if she were a Chinese puzzle box that he was just beginning to discover. He bent down to her, and, not quite touching her, feathered light kisses over her face, his lips millimeters from her skin. Breathless anticipation overtook her again and she tilted her face this way and that, trying to connect with the heat of his mouth, which was hovering over her. But he kept the distance constant, breathing over her closed eyelids, her brow, her cheekbones, her temples. He was everywhere, brushing, teasing, until she moaned in frustration. "Mulder..." He brought his mouth down hard over hers, his tongue plunging inside and sliding deliciously over the serrations of her teeth, the velvet texture of her tongue, the smoothness of her inner cheeks. Both of her hands came up and tangled in his hair. He pulled away and stared at her. They were both breathing hard. "Uh-uh. I thought you said I wouldn't need the leather thongs," he chastised, grinning at her. "Now, you keep your hands to yourself, Scully, or I'll tie you up for real. I've got no self-control when it comes to you, and I want this to be so good. I want to make you scream." "Promises, promises," Scully teased. He pulled her up against him, sliding one jeans-clad leg between her thighs. The shock of his fully clothed body meeting her barely clothed flesh was enough to make her utter an inhalatory little scream. His erection was monolithic against her stomach, and the heat of him burned through his clothes into her skin. Oh, that sound! Mulder smiled down darkly at her, shuddering, as he took her mouth again and, grasping her hips, rocked her against his leg in imitation of his tongue thrusting in her mouth. The thong was no protection from the rough rasp of denim. He could feel her heat, her moisture, right through his jeans. He pulled his mouth from hers and watched her sway toward him, her hands coming up to brace on his shoulders. Shaking his head in warning, he narrowed his eyes. Denied touching him, Scully reached for the door behind her, needing something to give her balance. She put her palms flat against it; her head tipped back and she moaned, low and throaty. He rocked her once more, twice, then pulled back, his eyes heavy and dark. Yanking his turtleneck over his head, he said, "Hot in here, isn't it?" She stared at his bare torso with avarice, wanting to sink her teeth into the smooth muscles of his stomach, to follow that thin line of hair down into his jeans.... Her mouth watered and she swallowed, then touched the tip of her tongue to her top lip. "Hotter than you know." "Really?" The way she was looking at him was criminal. He could nearly feel the wet heat of her mouth on him. He stepped toward her and again reached out one hand. She drew in her breath, hung at the top of another crest, waiting for him to touch her. "Close your eyes." She tilted her head at him quizzically and he repeated, "Close your eyes, Scully. I thought you trusted me." If she didn't stop looking at him like that all his good intentions were going to fly right out the door behind her. Her eyes slid shut and he nodded in satisfaction. "That's better. You were looking at me like you were the cat and I was the canary. Now give me your hands." Blindly, she held them out, and his large hands closed around her smaller ones. Roller coasters were one thing. Roller coasters in pitch blackness... But this was Mulder, and she *did* trust him. He tugged gently and she followed him, eyes still closed. He stopped, laying his hands on her shoulders for a moment and said, "Stay there." Scully heard two thuds...his shoes...then the rustling of fabric. A crinkling, ripping sound. The temptation to peek was very great, but she bit her lip and resisted. The sudden impact of his hot skin against her own was nearly unbearable. Her eyes flew open reflexively. He was gloriously nude, his rigid shaft sheathed in a condom. Staring at him, she said, "Next time, I get to put that on." Mulder grinned, saying, "Plenty more where that came from." He crowded up against her, pushing her. The backs of her knees contacted with something and she fell onto a wide soft expanse. A bed. *Mulder's* bed. Oh God. Her head spun -- loop-de-loops -- she thought fuzzily, then she scooted backwards, as he put first one knee, then the other on the bed. Stalking. He was stalking her. He traced slow, intricate patterns up her stockings, gently nudging her knees apart to burn paths of sparkling heat across her inner thighs. The muscles there trembled, jumping wildly. "Mulder--" She reached for him again and he clasped her hands and drew them up over her head, closing them around the rails of the headboard. "Keep 'em there, Scully." He lay down beside her, threw one heavy leg over hers, then trailed his hands slowly and gently down the length of her arms to her breasts. She had felt wanton before. Now, still wearing her shoes, she felt decadent, offered up like some sacrifice to pleasure. He touched her nipples lightly through the silk of her bra, catching her eyes with his own. "If you let go of the headboard, I'll stop." "But--" "Just let me please you." Sensing her acquiescence, Mulder brought his mouth down to hers, then nibbled his way down her neck. Opening the front clasp of her bra, he closed his lips over one straining peak, raking his teeth gently over the very tip. Scully muffled a moan as sensation zinged from her breast straight down to her center. He moved over to her other breast, subjecting it to the same sweet torture while his hand drifted down to toy with the strings of the thong. He tugged gently at it, then slid his knuckles along where it met the crease of her thigh. It was hot and damp, sticking to her. Sliding one long finger under the silk, he traced languid circles through her curls, then plunged it into her wet heat. He was rewarded with a gasp, the sound fueling his desire to please her, to hear that sound again. Her shimmering sensuality, usually so tightly restrained, was now exposed. The openness of her response, so freely given, made his heart ache. He fiercely tamped down the demand of his own flesh, glad now for the slim measure of control that came from his earlier orgasm, determined to explore every bit of her passion. He wanted to eat her alive. Slowly. "I'm gonna eat you up," he murmured, the words vibrating on her skin. Scully made a small sound in the back of her throat as fierce excitement blazed through her. Had he read her mind back in the office when she had pictured his fingers, his mouth on her? He continued to stroke his finger deeply inside her as he moved down her body, trailing sharp, biting kisses from her breasts to her stomach, leaving small red marks on her soft skin. "Your skin is so soft." He brushed his face over the silkiness of the thong, first one cheek, then the other. He knew the rich fabric wouldn't even come close to the silkiness it covered. He nuzzled the edges of it, then tugged it to the side so he could put his mouth on her. The heat of him was incredible. His tongue swirled around the swollen nub he had drawn from her softness, flicking at it delicately. Then he pushed it up against the roof of his mouth, sucking hard as he slid another long finger inside her, stretching her gently. A high keening cry burst explosively from her lungs and she arched up off the bed, convulsing against his mouth and around his fingers. He had tossed her up so high so fast that she was now in free fall, not knowing top from bottom. Needing him to anchor her in the dizzying spiral, she let go of the headboard and grabbed his shoulders. He raised his mouth and pulled his hand from her. She cried out again at the loss. Drawing away from her humid softness was one of the hardest things he had ever done. "If you don't keep your hands off me, Scully, I'll be in you so deep you'll feel me in your throat." "Yes," she got out, pulling him up to kiss him. Her legs moved restlessly on the sheets, the smooth stockings abrasive against her overly sensitized skin. "Inside me. Hard and fast. Now." Her hands closed on his rigid flesh. Mulder wrenched at the thong and the strings snapped. He slid into her, relentlessly pressing past the initial resistance of her internal muscles. Despite his efforts at readying her, she was so tight he didn't think he was going to last two seconds inside her. His eyes closed, then opened. "Scully." She blew out a long, tight sigh at the invasion. He was embedded in her so deeply that she *could* practically feel him in her throat. She felt consumed by fire from the inside out, stretched beyond pleasure and pain into something more elemental. She could feel him throbbing inside her, pulsating with the fast beat of his heart. It had been so long; the pressure was glorious. But not enough. "Mulder, please." "Please what?" he asked, hardly daring to breathe, staring down at her intensely. He pulled back a little, then thrust forward again, barely moving. God, he wanted to hear her say it. Panting, poised on the brink of another precipice, she looked up at him, into him. Did she dare? Yes. "Fuck me. Come with me." Her words sparked him into a frenzy. He lost it, totally and mindlessly, plunging into her deep and hard and fast, her name a harsh explosion of sound as he came. She had been wrong. The highest hill was at the end of the ride. Scully would have screamed his name if she had any breath, but it was gone. Over and down, flying faster and faster, spiraling and twisting. And Mulder caught her safely in his arms, turning them so she lay next to him. Trembling with aftershocks, she grinned up at him. "Again?" She had always loved roller coasters. _____ End Author's Notes: Thanks, as always, to Deb for her encouragement and for beta reading. Special thanks to Bob, for his support and inspiration. Lydia, it's your turn! Get busy.... For those of you who are interested, the story titles in this series, which should be available at any of the wonderful Gossamer archives, (if you can't find them, mail me and I'll send them to you) are: Like A Red, Red Rose Like A Red, Red Rose II - Like The Melodie Like A Red, Red Rose III - Newly Sprung; Sweetly Play'd Like A Red, Red Rose IV - My Luve Is *NC-17* Like A Red, Red Rose V - Rosebud *NC-17* Like A Red, Red Rose VI - Blushing Rose *NC-17* They're all drawn from the first verse of "A Red, Red Rose" by the late great Scottish poet Robert Burns, who's probably turning over in his grave at my impertinence! O, my luve is like a red, red rose That's newly sprung in June; O, my luve is like the melodie That's sweetly play'd in tune So, please, let me know what you think... Audrey Cooper xf_writer@geocities.com S: "It's a North American P-51 Mustang." M: "I just got very turned on." The X-Files, Piper Maru Like A Red, Red Rose V - Rosebud *NC-17* (1/1) by Audrey Cooper xf_writer@geocities.com August, 1997 Summary: Mulder and Scully doing things that are surely illegal in several states. Spoilers: Nope. Classification/Rating: V. MSR. Very light humor. NC-17. Disclaimer: Blah, blah...oh, you're actually reading it. Ok, guys and gals, you know the drill... Mulder and Scully don't belong to me. They are the creations and property of Chris Carter, Fox, and 1013 Productions, and have been used without permission. Author's notes follow the story. I would appreciate feedback in any shape or form. ********************************************************************* Like A Red, Red Rose V - Rosebud *NC-17* (1/1) by Audrey Cooper xf_writer@geocities.com Hiding a relationship was a real pain in the ass. Especially since he wanted to shout to the world that he had this intelligent, gorgeous, stimulating redhead who was mad for him, body, mind and soul. It had been months since they had been together. Months! Since their first explosive encounter on Valentine's Day in his apartment, he and Scully had been trying their damnedest to do it again. But, so far, all they'd been able to manage were secret smiles and small touches. And one mind-bending, tar-melting kiss in the parking garage. That had almost gotten out of control. If Scully hadn't heard someone approaching... It had been three weeks since he had even kissed her. And two days. Although there were no specific rules against it, they had no desire to be discovered. They hadn't met in his apartment again, nor in hers. It was too dangerous. Hell, why do we bother to worry about it? That chain-smoking bastard probably thinks we've been fucking like rabbits since the beginning. But still, he preferred his privacy private. He was pretty damn sure her apartment was bugged. He *knew* his was. He went through once a week and pulled three or four transmitters. Luckily, he had just flushed his apartment thoroughly before Scully came over on Valentine's Day, else the jig would be up. He felt itchy. Twitchy. Hot. His eyes stayed on Scully. Scully tapped at her keyboard in irritation. Another crop circle disaster that had panned out to nothing. Worse, they were trapped in this tiny motel in Rosebud, Arkansas. The small commuter airport only handled one hop per day to Little Rock and they had missed it by a good two hours. Mulder lounged on her bed, remote securely in hand, channel surfing. The steady 'click, huzz' every ten seconds was accompanied by the screen flickering. It was giving her a horrendous headache. "Mulder." "Hmmmm?" His trigger finger didn't let up on the remote. "Either settle on something or turn it off." She delivered her ultimatum with a modicum of her usual aplomb. Four more channels swept by as Mulder processed what she said, then he clicked the television off. Silence descended like the closing of a tomb door. "Better?" Scully stared at her screen. Shit. The article she had been working on had disappeared. She started digging in her directories. Nope. Gone for good. "Dammit, Mulder!" He looked up from the crop circle X-File he had filched from her night table. "Now what did I do?" "I lost the damn article." "Maybe I can help," he said getting up from the bed and coming over to the small table where she had set up her laptop. "Stay away from my computer, Mulder. I've seen what you do to the one at the office." He affected a 'what, who me?' look. "Yes, you." "C'mon Scully. If it's already gone, what harm can I do?" She stared at him for a second then surrendered her seat, rubbing her temples gingerly. "Take something for that." It wasn't the article. Or his channel surfing. It was being in a place where they were alone. Really alone. There was no way anyone could know where they were. Or what they were doing. Alone. Still, it wasn't a good idea to start something while they were out on a case, even one as pitiful as this one. She shook the image of a nude Mulder from her mind regretfully. "I'm going to lay down for a few minutes and see if that helps." "Good idea," he mumbled, already immersed in the intricacies of her laptop's directory structure. Within a couple minutes, he had found the problem and restored her file. Brownie points for me. He was backing out of her directories level by level when he discovered it. A file called Pegleg. He glanced over to where Scully lay, prim and proper on the bed, her skirt drawn down to her knees, legs neatly together. She had one arm over her eyes. He turned back to the computer. He opened the file and read, with growing astonishment, snippets of poetry. Her taste was eclectic to the extreme, but she had the poetry categorized in alphabetical order. Both Brownings, Burns, Eliot, Frost, Keats, Shakespeare, Shelley, Spenser, Yeats. A faint cry caused him to recheck his position. She still had her arm over her eyes. The poetry was followed by a series of haiku. He read them through several times with building excitement. His eyes kept returning to the last one. Anticipation Roller coaster excitement Fantasy fulfilled Another quiet moan. He looked over his shoulder. Scully had propped herself up on her elbows and was watching him. "Scully, did you just..." Just what? Moan? She shook her head and looked over her shoulder at the wall. Mulder took advantage of her inattention and closed out the Pegleg file. Getting up, he stopped mid-stride at another moan, this one not so quiet. <"Like that."> The words carried, muffled but still clear, through the wall behind the headboard. Scully met Mulder's eyes. He grinned widely and joined her on the bed. "Mulder--" "Makes me think of things that I could be doing to make you say that," he said in her ear, breathing lightly on the sensitive flesh, then nibbling lightly, worrying the small earring she wore. Scully closed her eyes. "We shouldn't..." A man's deep groan interrupted her. It sent a flash of remembered heat through her stomach. Mulder had sounded like that, when he had finally buried himself within her. Murmuring. A thud. "They certainly are enthusiastic," Scully whispered. <"Baby!"> "Why are you whispering?" he asked. His nose was buried in her hair. He could smell her: the clean fragrance of her hair, the faint wisp of her perfume, and underneath, unmistakably, the rich aroma of her arousal. "Because it..." she started, still whispering. Then, feeling foolish, she finished aloud, but still quietly, "It seems wicked." All the same her breathing had quickened. "Then let's be wicked." Mulder slid a hand into her hair and tilted her head. His lips touched hers, fused. Their tongues tangled, wet and hot, stroking deep. The woman was whimpering steadily now. Without knowing quite how she had gotten there, she found herself astride him, grinding against the hardness in his pants. He tugged insistently at her top, raising it as far as he could without breaking the kiss, then pulled the cups of her bra down. He grazed the creamy flesh he exposed with the backs of his knuckles, still overwhelmed that she was letting him, that she wanted him to touch her like that. When his hands settled on her breasts, his thumbs brushing across her nipples back and forth, back and forth, she moaned herself. She was fire in his hands, burning. <"Oh, honey."> He shuddered heavily as she opened the buttons on his shirt then drew her fingernails over his small male nipples, his breath coming hard and fast. "Scully--" Grabbing one of his hands, she thrust it under her skirt. The strings of the thong she wore were no deterrent to his fingers finding the slick heat at her core. He made a harsh, rough sound, sliding a finger inside her as he caressed her silky nub with his thumb. She leaned back, placing her hands on his thighs for balance. She was wide open to him, her legs spread widely across his hips. He stroked his finger in and out slowly; watched her eyes grow glazed as she shivered, tightening around his finger. "Mulder!" "Again. I want you to come again." Creaking. Intermittent thuds. She was shaking her head. "Yes. You can." He jammed three fingers where only one would fit, pressing against her hard with his thumb. She came violently, rising up on her knees, arching her back. "Oh, God!" She collapsed on him bonelessly, panting harshly. Her mouth found the pulse that beat wildly at his throat, sucking at it. She yanked at his belt, her hands frantically working at his fly. <"...touch me..."> Mulder raised his hips to meet her as she grasped his rigid shaft with one hand. She licked at him delicately, darting her tongue up and down his length. "Scully!" She ignored him, biting the insides of his thighs lightly, repeatedly, as she stroked him, touching his sac gently, then more firmly, rolling it. The woman cried out. "I want to be inside you." His entire body was trembling as he pushed her head away. Scully watched as he stood and stripped his pants and boxers off completely. It amused her to no end that he didn't bother taking his shirt or socks off, but instead dug frantically for his wallet. She pulled her top over her head then unclasped her bra, tossing both to the floor. She left her skirt and the thong on. He could work around them. Murmuring. "You are so sexy," she said, trailing a finger down the erection that poked out from between his shirttails. She smiled as it twitched. "Give me that." She snatched the foil packet from his hand, ripping it open with her teeth. Very carefully she sheathed him. Mulder stared down at her small hands on his flesh and tried desperately to rein in his desire. Wasn't gonna happen. Not in this lifetime. "Now." His voice was a growl. He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her away. "Is this what you want?" she asked over her shoulder as she poised on hands and knees. He stared at her ass, at the string of the thong disappearing between her cheeks. "Yes!" Mulder moved the thong aside, grasped her hips and pushed into her slowly. His long, low groan was every bit as electrifying as she remembered. Scully put her head down on the bed, backing into him. The velvet over steel texture of his erection drove into her smoothly. He was big, thrillingly thick. <"...fuck you?"> "More," she bit out. He slid his hands up to cup her breasts, drawing her back up against his chest until she was kneeling upright. She put her arms up and grabbed at his hair. "Move with me, Scully." He was in her so deeply, moving so slowly she could practically taste him. She rose on her widespread knees slightly, then relaxed, impaling herself on him again, whimpering. "Oh, yeah." Mulder twisted his hips as he thrust up within her, biting none too gently on the back of her neck. "Do it again. Ride me." He slid one hand down, under the thong. He caught her nub between his thumb and forefinger. Thudding. Scully was caught up on a huge rolling wave, moaning helplessly as he continued to move deeply, slowly within her, plucking gently at the flesh between her legs. She flexed and released, flexed and released. <"Yes!"> "That's it. You feel so good." He thrust harder, but no faster, drawing out every movement. "Come on, Scully. Come with me." "With you," she managed, tugging at his hair. He sucked at the nape of her neck, raking his teeth over the fine mist of sweat that gathered there, and she came again, clenching around him like a silk fist. "Mulder!" "Oh, yeah -- Scully!" ***** Together, they peeked through a small chink in the curtains at the couple leaving the room next door. Mulder bit the inside of his lip hard. They were seventy if they were a day. "Well, you know what they say..." he started. "You're only as old as you feel?" she finished innocently. _____ End Author's Notes: Thanks, as always, to Deb for her encouragement and for beta reading. Special thanks to Bob, for his support and inspiration, and to Miki and Lydia for continuing to push me for "more Audrey smut". ;) Lydia, I think this makes it 3 and 1. For those of you who are interested, the story titles in this series, which should be available at any of the wonderful Gossamer archives, (if you can't find them, mail me and I'll send them to you) are: Like A Red, Red Rose Like A Red, Red Rose II - Like The Melodie Like A Red, Red Rose III - Newly Sprung; Sweetly Play'd Like A Red, Red Rose IV - My Luve Is *NC-17* Like A Red, Red Rose V - Rosebud *NC-17* Like A Red, Red Rose VI - Blushing Rose *NC-17* So, please, let me know what you think... Audrey Cooper xf_writer@geocities.com M to S: "Scully, would you think less of me as a man if I told you I was kind of excited right now?" The X-Files, Home Like A Red, Red Rose VI - Blushing Rose *NC-17* (1/1) by Audrey Cooper xf_writer@geocities.com November, 1997 Summary: Mulder and Scully explore a new facet of their relationship. Spoilers: Nope. Classification/Rating: V. MSR. NC-17. Disclaimer: Blah, blah...oh, you're actually reading it. Ok, guys and gals, you know the drill... Mulder and Scully don't belong to me. They are the creations and property of Chris Carter, Fox, and 1013 Productions, and have been used without permission. Author's notes follow the story. I would appreciate feedback in any shape or form. ********************************************************************* Like A Red, Red Rose VI - Blushing Rose *NC-17* (1/1) by Audrey Cooper xf_writer@geocities.com She was so close, but he couldn't seem to push her over the edge. "Let go, Scully." "I'm *trying*. I can't. I just--I can't." Her exasperation was plain. She was drawn up so tightly it felt like her skin would pop and she was panting like she'd just chased down a suspect. Her skin was flushed and glistened with sweat. "I want to, but sometimes I just *can't*." Mulder stopped moving, picking his head up from where it was nestled in her shoulder, and propped himself up on his elbows to look at her. "What do you do when you're alone?" "I..." His eyes widened as she looked away, her face flooded with color. "Masturbation is completely natural and normal, you know," he said, his voice level and low. "I know." Still, she avoided his eyes. "I'm a little embarrassed." "It's a private thing," he whispered in her ear. Scully nodded. "More intimate than this?" He thrust once more, then pulled out of her, lying on his side facing her. She moaned in frustration. He had teased her mercilessly, bringing her to the brink again and again, until she had been begging for release. Now she was as taut as a bowstring, her overstimulated body unable to attain the blessed relief of orgasm. "What do you think of me? I mean, of my touching myself?" As he spoke, he slid one hand down his chest, brushing against his nipples. They stood out in hard little points from his sweat slick flesh. "Um..." She licked her dry lips. Oh, *God*. Already at fever pitch, her body tightened even more, contracting around the emptiness he left. "Does this turn you off?" He turned onto his back, his other hand dipping between his own legs. He grasped his erection, slippery with her wetness. Scully couldn't stifle a moan as he began to stroke himself lightly, his hand sliding easily. "No. No, it doesn't." She watched with rapt attention as he brought his other hand down from his chest to cup his sac. "It's incredibly sexy. I used to imagine you doing this." Mulder studied her face while she watched his hands. "So what's the difference? The thought of you touching yourself is extremely arousing, Scully. You touching yourself while I watch..." His voice trailed off and his knuckles whitened as he grasped himself more tightly. "I could come just thinking about it." Shifting her gaze to his face, her eyes at half-mast, she moved one small hand toward her breast, then hesitated. This was something she had only ever done in secret, hiding the fact that she enjoyed her own touch even from herself. Although she knew logically that what he had said was true, emotionally she was anxious. Despite her level of frustration, she was still afraid to expose this part of herself. He leaned forward and kissed her mouth, touching his tongue to hers, licking and nibbling at her lips until she lost some of her stiffness. "Please. Oh, Scully, please." Her trust pushed her hand further. Only with Mulder could she attempt to share this intimacy. Scully reached for a nipple and rolled it between her thumb and forefinger, pulling and twisting it hard, much harder than he would have dared. But she was on edge and couldn't feel a lighter touch. Her eyes stayed on his face as he gave a husky sound of excitement. Encouraged, she brought her other hand up and flicked her fingernails over the tips of her nipples. He watched as she arched her back, memorizing every small nuance of movement, and let go of his own flesh. Not yet. She closed her eyes and steeled herself, sliding one hand down to curve gently over her mound. Mulder's harsh groan echoed in her ears as she found her wet folds, her nub hard and aching under her fingers. Mulder reveled in the fact that she trusted him with this, sharing with him something so private. He was as fascinated by the changes in her face as he was excited by her small hands moving over her body. The slight frown on her lips and the tight pucker of concentration between her brows eased as she dipped two fingers into her softness, then rubbed in a quick circular pattern over her tiny, swollen bundle of nerves. She moaned, a small, breathy exhalation of sound, and he sensed that she was very quiet indeed when she pleasured herself. "Mulder...I need..." Her knees fell further apart, her other hand joining the first between her legs. It wasn't enough. She craved the deep penetration that he could give her, the rasping of his hard flesh against her sensitive internal tissues. She was empty...so empty. "What, Scully?" He bent and sucked hard at one of her nipples, remembering how rough she had been with them. A harsh cry escaped her as her hands worked faster. "What do you need?" "I need you inside me." "Not yet," he murmured, using his teeth carefully on her other nipple. There was nothing quiet about her now. "Please. Please. Pleasepleaseplease. Oh, *God*, Mulder! Please!" Her breasts heaved as she gulped air, her hands frantic. Mulder knocked them aside and set his mouth over her straining nubbin as he slid two fingers deep inside her hot silkiness, fluttering them quickly. Her hips left the bed as her internal muscles clamped down on his fingers in the forerunners of climax. "Now," he growled through clenched teeth, guiding the broad head of his shaft to her opening. He began to climax before he was completely inside her, the full glory of her orgasm bursting through her and echoing in the part of him that was buried within her, the sensation of her contracting around him sending him right over the edge. Other than their heavy breathing, silence reigned for a few minutes, then Mulder asked, "Hey. You ok?" He drew back slightly to keep from crushing her. His body partly disengaged from hers and she wiggled to draw him back inside. "I'm fine, Mulder." Oh, *shit*! His eyes flew to hers, his disconcertion plain. Her reply had been automatic, given without thought. She struggled to keep her own face passive at his reaction. He was always so sure that particular combination of words was a lie. In this case, it was the simple truth. "Scully?" She snorted with laughter, evicting him from her body with a slight pop as she doubled with giggles. "Oh, Mulder, the look on your face!" _____ End Author's Notes: You may have seen this story in an earlier form on the X-Press. Many thanks to my beta-readers, Deb and KL. Thanks are also due to Miki, Jill, lore and Lydia. I appreciate all of your suggestions -- even if I didn't take them all -- and your comments. Special thanks to Bob, for his support and inspiration. This is for every single one of you who ever bothered to write me a note (and yes, please do write another!) -- it's not just feedback for this writer. For those of you who are interested, the story titles in this series, which should be available at any of the wonderful Gossamer archives, (if you can't find them, mail me and I'll send them to you) are: Like A Red, Red Rose Like A Red, Red Rose II - Like The Melodie Like A Red, Red Rose III - Newly Sprung; Sweetly Play'd Like A Red, Red Rose IV - My Luve Is *NC-17* Like A Red, Red Rose V - Rosebud *NC-17* Like A Red, Red Rose VI - Blushing Rose *NC-17* So, please, let me know what you think... Audrey Cooper xf_writer@geocities.com M to S: "What *is* that look, Scully?" The X-Files, "Elegy"