Title: Slow Burn
Author: Emelina27
E-Mail address: Emelina27@aol.com
Rating: R for sex
Monday morning, the basement office of the FBI headquarters
When Scully strode into her and Mulder's office Monday morning, she was feeling and looking better than she had in a long time. Over the weekend she'd splurged on the blue silk blouse she now wore, and a trip to the salon, where she'd gotten a new, shorter hairstyle so flattering that everyone she'd met today had complimented her.
What will Mulder say? she couldn't help but think, and then she mused wryly
that Mulder would probably blink in confusion for a full minute before she clued him into the precise change. She'd once told a friend that Mulder was
"obsessed with his work," and the passage of time had shown her just how gross
of an understatement that was.
As usual, Mulder was sitting at his desk. However, the manner in which he sat was not usual. He was leaning back in his chair, feet up on the desk, defying gravity to pull him sprawling on his back. He was playing with a pen and wore an expression that she had seen on his face so seldom she could in fact count the times on her fingers: a smile.
So it was Scully who blinked in confusion this morning. "Uh, hi, Mulder," she said.
Mulder started slightly and nearly lost his battle with gravity--but he
regained his balance just in time to pull his feet off the desk and greet her
with an even wider version of that seldom seen (but awfully nice) smile.
"Hiya, Scully," he said, putting down his pen as his eyes flicked up and down her. "Wow, you look good. Did you go on a shopping and salon spree over the weekend?"
She was floored. When was the last time he'd told her she looked good? Had he
ever told her that? What was going on?
"Yes, as a matter of fact, I did," she replied. "Decided I'd been working hard, and deserved a treat."
"Truer words were never spoken," he said, and got to his feet with a...springiness that she'd never seen him use in his body movements. He turned
and pulled open his X-File cabinet, taking out a folder with the deftness of a
magician performing a trick.
Scully just stood, holding her purse, feeling awkward as hell as he began to
fill her in on the details of their newest case--something about an occurrence
of human parthenogenesis--but she barely listened. Finally she cut him off in
mid-sentence: "Mulder, what's up with you?" She couldn't quite explain the
feeling of dread in her stomach as she asked.
He stopped and looked at her. He was wearing his glasses, and she suddenly
became aware of how...cute he looked when he donned those specs.
"What do you mean, Scully?" he asked, his tone so impossibly innocent that he
couldn't have faked it.
"I mean, why are you acting like this? You're practically dancing around the
office. It's a real change from..." she stopped herself.
"From my usual grumpy, gloomy demeanor?" he finished for her. He didn't sound offended. "Don't worry, Scully, I'm still grumpy and gloomy. At least, when I'm not thinking about Ashley."
The name, so casually uttered, felt like a slap to her face. "Who?" she asked, her tongue suddenly thick.
"Ashley," Mulder repeated. "You've met her. We've been going out for a
couple weeks now."
Going out..another slap. "You mean Ashley Micelli?" she asked, thinking of the thin...no, skinny...blonde woman she and Mulder had questioned briefly a month or so ago during a relatively routine larceny case. Scully hadn't liked her much, so she'd let her drop from her mind as soon as the case was over. Until now.
"Yes, I mean her," Mulder replied. He sounded a bit puzzled. "I thought I told you about her."
Scully was suddenly angry, although she tried to stifle the feeling. After all, she and Mulder only worked together; why should she care if he went out on a date? "No, you didn't tell me about her. I had no idea you had an interest in her outside of the case."
Her voice was more snappish than she intended, and she saw a small recoil on
his face. "Well, I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was dating her, Scully," he said lamely. "But we're going out to dinner on Tuesday, at Flavio's. Mother, may I?" He punctuated that limp attempt at humor with another smile that looked a trifle too big for his face.
Her anger flared again. "Oh, cut it out, Mulder. You know you don't have to ask permission from me with regards to your love life." As soon as her words escaped her mouth, she winced inwardly as Mulder winced outwardly at her tone.
Stop it! she told herself. You're acting like a...jealous girlfriend.
She forced her anger down with some effort and continued on in a more normal
tone, "Sorry I snapped at you. It's just that I don't like it when you tease
me."
Mulder sat back down, and turned his attention to the folder to avoid meeting
her gaze. "'S'all right, Scully. Sorry I teased you. Let's just forget about
it and concentrate on the case."
Forget about it, she repeated to herself sardonically. Who's he kidding? But
she suppressed her weirdly jumbled feelings as best she could and dug into the
case with Mulder, just as she always did. She could tell right away that the
case would be a waste of time, but she knew that if she said so it would only
fall on deaf ears. Mulder never thought an X-File was a waste of time, and it
seemed the more outlandish, improbable, or just plain silly, a case was, the
more passionately he was devoted to it. She sighed mentally and reflected that
at least this case was close by--in Maryland--and didn't require them to travel across the country and stay in one of those cheap motels that Mulder was so inexplicably fond of. Things could be worse, she said to herself, and was surprised at how hollow the words sounded even in her own mind.
**************************************************
Tuesday afternoon, the basement of the FBI headquarters
"I knew it would be a waste of time, Mulder," Scully told her partner as he
unlocked their office door. He threw her a puzzled glance in return. Usually
she didn't say that to him on the rare occasions that one of the cases they
worked on was so clearly a fraud that even Mulder finally believed it. Usually
she wouldn't have been half as annoyed with Mulder's dogged determination on a
case that was clearly a fraud. But her patience was short this time around, for some reason she didn't know.
You know the reason perfectly well, a hateful little truth-telling voice in
the back of her head remarked. She wondered if everyone had a similar voice,
or if she was one of the unique few who was cursed with it. It had been
speaking to her with more frequency since Mulder had mentioned he was dating
Ashley Micelli.
Ashley, she thought, to shut the voice up. Why is it they always have sorority girl names? Phoebe, Bambi...and what was Detective White's first name, Angela?
Interesting that you used the word "they," the hateful voice said. As if those women are a species apart from you. Face it, honeybunch, you're jealous. You can't stand the thought of him going out with Ashley Micelli. Moreover, you think she's vapid, you thought she was vapid when you were questioning her, and this was before Mulder announced he was going out with her. You wonder how Mulder can even be interested in a woman like that. And the way he's been acting drives you crazy, too. He's acting like he may be getting serious about her.
"Shut up," Scully muttered as she followed Mulder into the office.
"What?" Mulder asked. He had ears like a bat.
"Nothing, just talking to myself," she replied, a little testily.
Mulder seated himself at his desk and looked at her as she sat in the chair
across from him. "You sure have a short fuse today, Scully," he remarked. "In
fact, you had a short fuse yesterday, too. You didn't need to be anywhere near
so curt with the people we questioned as you were. And you've never struck me as the 'I told you so' type."
She kept as neutral a face as she could. It wasn't easy. "Sorry, I just got annoyed that we were on a case that was so ridiculous. It took you twice as long to figure that out as it took me."
"Doesn't it always?" he murmured, and something in his tone got on her last
nerve. "Oh, shut up, Mulder. I'm in no mood to listen to your 'poor little me,
saddled with a partner who always has to puncture my balloons' crap." She saw
the surprise and hurt in his face, but that only spurred her on further. "In
fact, I'm in no mood to listen to you at all. I think I'll take the rest of the afternoon off and rest from this wild goose chase. You should probably rest too, so you'll be nice and fresh for you goddamn date with Ashley."
Those last few words were spoken with such venom that they shocked even Scully. For a moment both of them were too stunned to speak. Only on a few other occasions had the tension between them been this thick--and Scully felt a strange mixture of shame and and kind of relief that at last she had said aloud what was truly bothering her.
"Is that was this is about?" Mulder asked quietly.
Scully looked down at her fingernails. She hated that she couldn't meet his gaze. She knew what he would say next. "Are you jealous?"
Scully's head jerked up, and the words she now spoke seemed to be coming from
the mouth of a different woman. "Don't flatter yourself, Mulder. I couldn't
give a crap about who you date. The world doesn't center around your love
life. I'm going home, and I'll see you tomorrow. Goodbye."
With that she got up and stormed out of the office. She continued to walk,
quickening her pace so that she was almost running--she bumped into more than
one person as she walked through the halls, and was in too much of a whirl of
emotions to offer apologies. Somehow she found her way into a ladies room,
which was mercifully deserted, and leaned against the wall to get control of
her breathing. She had never let her temper, or her emotions, get away from
her like this. But the new, unexpected presence of Ashley brought up feelings
she didn't even know she had. Was she jealous? She'd been sort of jealous
before when Mulder had flirted with women while they worked on a case, although it was more anger than jealousy because Mulder had been annoyingly willing to drop his sense of professional distance in order to attend to the women's needs.
But this was different. He had continued to connect with this woman even after the case was closed. And it was clear that he might actually have serious feelings for her. Scully wasn't sure she was ready to deal with it. She knew she had no right to act possessive of Mulder, because he was only her partner...
Only your partner, the hateful voice repeated. What a joke. You've been through hell and high water with that man. And whether you admit it or not, you love him.
"No," Scully muttered, putting her hands to her ears as if the hateful voice
was coming from outside rather than inside her head.
You do, the voice insisted. All of a sudden the hatefulness was gone from its
tone. You love him, and you know he must love you to in some way. And if you
have your wits about you, you're going to do something about it. You're not
going to let that vapid bimbo have him. You know what to do.
And she did.
**************************************************
Tuesday evening, Scully's apartment
Dana Scully usually didn't spend a lot of time in her bathroom; she was not one of those women who liked to take an hour or more to do their makeup and hair. But this evening she was determined to look her best. As she applied makeup, she remembered the tips her teenage girl friends had given her. She had never played dress-up as a child; she had little use for frilly dresses and girly accessories, so by the time she was a teenager she had almost no experience at all in the art of feminine toiletry. When a boy asked her out to the eighth grade graduation dance, she knew she couldn't go to her mother for tips. Margaret Scully hated the idea of either of her daughters wearing makeup and forbade them to do so, though Dana knew that Melissa sneaked makeup into her purse and applied it at school. Melissa was too busy with her own social life for Dana to go to her for advice, so she went to her few close girl friends, who were only too happy to help their tomboyish pal in matters feminine.
"It's not the amount of makeup you apply," Ginny Taylor had said as she
demonstrated lipstick-blotting techniques, "but how you apply it that really
makes the difference. You're lucky, Dana, because you have a lot to start with. Big eyes, nice lips, thick hair. You just gotta cover up at least some
of those freckles." Scully smiled at the memory.
When she finally finished, she scarcely recognized herself. There had been only one or two times in her life that she'd gone "all out" like this, and false modesty aside, she looked stunning. She admired how her green dress flattered her figure without being low-cut or skimpy. Her new haircut had left her hair a touch too short to put up, so instead she decided to exploit rather than tame its natural curliness.
She went out to the full-length mirror in her bedroom and after giving herself the once-over, smiled and said, "It's showtime."
**************************************************
Outside Flavio's Restaurant, Tuesday evening
Scully mentally plotted her method of attack as she rode in a taxi to the
restaurant. She didn't take her car, because a taxi seemed more...romantic.
She'd been inside Flavio's once, on a long, long ago date that turned out to
be a complete bore...so she had a general memory of the layout of the restaurant.
You don't want to make a scene, the no-longer-hateful voice said. Don't walk in there like a territorial cat and seize him in front of your rival. Take the
sneaky route. Let him be the one to make excuses to her. But make sure he ain't gonna have a prayer once you get your hands on him.
I'll get a table, she thought, close enough so I can see them but far enough so they can't see me. I'll have a drink, observe. And when he goes to the men's room, I'll follow, wait outside, and then when he comes out...
She smiled a wicked smile. Mulder wasn't going to know what hit him.
**************************************************
Inside Flavio's Restaurant, Tuesday evening
So far, her plan was working perfectly. She had a table that was a little closer to Mulder's than she would have liked, but since it was a booth and there was a potted plant sitting on top of the booth's wall that provided
excellent camouflage should Mulder happen to glance this way, she wasn't
complaining. She thought about having a glass of white wine, but decided to have a Shirley Temple instead. A few men around her--some with companions, some without--looked in her direction appreciatively, but she ignored them. She hoped that none of the men without companions would try to pick up on her,
because that was an added complication she most certainly did not need.
She kept her eyes trained on Mulder--the plant obscured her view of Ashley--but was sure to break her gaze now and then so it wasn't quite so obvious she was spying on someone.
She ordered a small salad so she'd have something else to focus on. She kept
glancing at Mulder as she ate, as he ate, wondering if by some cosmic justice
that he was as bored as she had been on that long ago date, wondering what
thoughts were going through his own head, wondering if he was EVER going to
get up to use the men's room. She knew that he and Ashley hadn't been there
long when she arrived--Mulder hadn't had a plate of food in front of him, and
Flavio's was known for their quick service, so it was a fairly safe bet that
he hadn't used the men's room before she'd arrived. She tried not to think
about the possibility that he had.
But if he has, your plan still hasn't gone awry, the no-longer-hateful voice said. You'll just have to improvise.
Improvise, she thought. Sure. She had once taken a drama class in college to
fulfill an arts requirement, and though she liked the class overall, she hated
the days that the class did improvisational exercises, because she was dreadful at them.
But this whole night is an improvisation, honeybunch, the no-longer-hateful
voice said. You're acting on feelings that you didn't even know you had until
very recently. So just go with the flow.
She finished her salad and glanced over at Mulder again. She peered just a
little closer. He had finished eating as well, and though she could not see
Ashley, she assumed that Mulder was listening as Ashley talked. She couldn't
quite read his expression, but she thought he looked less interested than
polite.
Just then she was startled when she heard a small throat-clearing sound. She
looked and saw her waiter standing at her table. "May I take your plate, ma'am?" he asked.
"Oh, uh, sure," she said hastily. She felt a little flustered, wondering if the waiter had deduced she was spying on someone else...but even if he had, he didn't show it. He acted just like a good waiter, trained to be the soul of
discretion, was supposed to act.
"May I interest you in some dessert, or coffee?" he asked.
"No thank you," she said sweetly. "Just my check would be fine."
"Certainly, ma'am," the waiter said, and swept away with her plate.
She glanced back at Mulder's table...and discovered Mulder was not there. Oh my God, she thought. It's happened. It's time to go do...what I'm going to do. She blinked for a moment at the table, knowing that she couldn't very well stiff the waiter or that would throw a huge wrench into her plans should he
decide to come after her, so, thinking fast, she mentally added up her tab
using the menu prices, estimated tax...and hurriedly pulled a twenty-dollar bill from her purse, laying it on the table underneath the salt-shaker. The
twenty minus the cost of her food meant she was leaving the waiter a hefty tip; she doubted he'd have a problem with her unofficial method of payment.
Scully got up, smoothed her dress, and moved away from her table. She knew
where the bathrooms were, and took the roundabout route to get there, all the
better to avoid being spotted by Ashley. She doubted Ashley would recognize
her even if she saw her...they'd only met briefly, and Scully had certainly
looked a great deal different in her sober work clothes than in this getup...and anyway, she didn't strike you as being the type who'd have the
sharpest memory, the no-longer-hateful voice remarked...but she didn't want to
take any chances at all. She only hoped she hadn't gotten moving too late.
Scully finally saw the alcove which contained the men's and women's rooms. She vaguely remembered that beyond the men's room was a hall that led to she-
knew-not-where...probably some kind of fire escape door...she hoped that the
hall would be shadowy enough so that she and Mulder could have relative
privacy. She walked over to the alcove, took a shuddery breath, and entered
it. She stood by the women's room door, trying to look as if she was just
waiting for a friend to come out of the bathroom, and peered down the hall.
Yes, it was fairly shadowy...and about halfway down she saw a small patch of
dim light that may have indicated another alcove. Knowing that she was taking
risks with her timing, but curious to see if it was indeed another alcove and
would therefore be a benefit to her plan, she walked quickly down the hall to
see. She glanced over her shoulder, then turned her head back to front and
suddenly found herself plowing into someone.
"Oh Jesus, I'm sorry..."
"Oh, pardon me ma'am..."
Scully was face to face with none other than Mulder.
**************************************************
"Mulder..."
"Scully..."
"What are you doing here?" she asked, spluttering. He had taken hold of her
arms to keep her from falling after she'd quite literally run into him, and he
still held them.
He uttered an astonished laugh. "You're asking me that? What are you doing
here, Scully?"
She didn't answer. Instead, she said the first thing that came to her head,
which was, "I thought you were going to the men's room." She forced herself to
meet his gaze. The light was dim, but she could see his expression...the
sweet, goofy smile, the puppy-dog eyes...very clearly. She'd read only a few
romance novels in her time and didn't care for them, especially the scenes
which described the heroine's heart as "pounding" as her dark handsome lover
held her...but nonetheless, "pounding" was what her own heart was doing.
He was silent a moment, as his ever-sharp mind made the connection. "You were
watching me, Scully? You came here and spied on me and then followed me when I
left the table?"
She looked up at him, helpless. She tried to say "Yes," but her throat had closed up, and the most she was able to get out was a whisper. Now it's going
to happen, she thought. He's going to fling me away in disgust and I'm never
going to be able to face him again.
His breathing came harsh. Suddenly, he pulled her to him and almost crushed
her in his arms as he kissed her. Her arms came up around his neck and her
fingers found their way into his hair and they clung to each other like
drowning swimmers or like battle-weary soldiers or like lovers who had so long
suppressed their feelings that they had to let them out or die...
**************************************************
He stumbled backwards, half-carrying her into the alcove that he'd surely just come from. His mouth never left hers, not even to take a breath, and he fell rather than sat on the small bench beside the telephone. Her hands moved from his hair to cup his face and she tremblingly took in the texture of his skin, the raspiness of the minute stubble that he always seemed to get in the evening, the soft delicate feel of his long eyelashes...
He broke away slightly and asked his question in between continuations of their kiss: "Why did you come here?"
She answered the same way: "You have to ask that?"
He broke away completely this time and looked at her. "No," he said, with his
familiar half-amused tone and familiar half-amused smile, "but I want to hear
you say it."
Her first impulse was to grab him and kiss him again, but she somehow suppressed it. "I love you, Mulder," she said simply. "I didn't realize it until now. I thought you were falling in love with another woman, and I couldn't face it."
Mulder sat with her more off his lap that on it, so stunned that he was struck utterly speechless. He couldn't believe what he had heard, he couldn't believe that any of this crazy night and crazy day had even happened. He began to laugh...a laugh not of mirth but of amazement.
Now Scully was the one who was stunned. But some dim part of her mind made
her clap her hand over his mouth and hiss, "Sssshh! Do you want people to
come and find us?"
He looked at her with streaming eyes, paused, and shook his head. She took
her hand off his mouth. "Now what is so goddamn funny?" she demanded. She was
bewildered and, yes, a little angry at his reaction to what she'd said.
He chuckled and put his forehead against hers, holding her as he rocked her
slightly back and forth. "Oh, Scully, I wasn't laughing at you, I was laughing
at how crazy and amazing my life is. I never expected you to come here and do
this, and say this...and I'm not falling in love with Ashley. God, not at all.
She's nice, but as I've been discovering, she's no great conversationalist. I
was actually planning on letting her down easy after tonight."
Scully started in surprise, then was overcome by her own giggles. She pressed
her face into his shoulder to stifle them. "I don't believe this," she said,
her voice muffled. "The way you were acting, I was sure you were falling in
love with her."
"No," he said, stroking the back of her head. "I was just happy that I for once had something resembling a social life. Ashley seemed fun enough to be around at first, but she kind of bores me now." He turned and murmured his next words into her hair: "Especially compared to you."
She lifted her head and looked at him again. Her gaze was utterly direct. "I'm glad that I misunderstood, Mulder," she said, "because I know that if I hadn't, I'd never have gotten up the nerve to come here like I did."
His gaze was direct too. His eyes, which sometimes looked hazel and sometimes
green depending on his mood and on the lighting, were hot and so beautiful
that she could physically feel them. He spoke those words that she'd longed to
hear him say without even knowing she did: "I love you, Scully. I don't think
I realized it before now either."
They held each other and kissed again, this time more tenderly, more like a
sweet confirmation than the rough animalistic desperation they'd shown moments
before. One of her hands slipped to his chest and felt his heart beating as fast and hard as hers was. It slipped further until it was on his groin and
she felt further evidence of his feelings. She smiled against his mouth and
squeezed gently with her hand.
He inhaled sharply, then put his hand over hers. "We'd better stop for a moment, Scully, before we're too excited to care that we're in a semi-public
place."
That took her back to her surroundings. She looked around, saw the telephone,
and, suddenly understanding, asked, "You were using the telephone instead of
going to the bathroom?"
He nodded. "My beeper went off. I didn't recognize the number but I came back
here anyway to make the call. Turned out to be a wrong number."
She took this in...then suddenly a thought struck her, so perfect and so lovely that she couldn't help but smile. "Ashley doesn't have to know that, Mulder," she said.
**************************************************
"Huh? What?" Mulder was confused.
"Ashley doesn't have to know it was a wrong number. You can go out there and tell her it was your mom, or your Aunt Hilda or something, who needs you to be
there quick. That way you really won't be standing Ashley up when you come
with me." Her hand was still on his groin, underneath his hand, and she
squeezed gently again to illustrate her point.
Mulder regarded her, the same sly smile that was on her face spreading over his. "You're bad, Scully," he said. "But you're so damn clever about it. Okay,
I'll go and give Miss Ashley my best sob story. But I'd better go soon, before
she starts wondering if I've died. Then I'll meet you out by my car. It's
right in front, so you should be able to find it. Sound good?"
"Sounds wonderful," she said, giving him a small kiss before reluctantly sliding off his lap and getting up. Her dress was so wrinkled that she was sure she wouldn't be able to completely smooth it out again, but she made an effort with her hands.
Mulder stood up too, smoothing his own clothes, readjusting his tie, trying
to comb his hair with his fingers. His face was flushed, and as she looked
down for a moment she saw that the bulge in his trousers was huge and so
obvious that anyone with functioning eyesight would notice it.
He followed her gaze and she chuckled as he made a small sound of dismay.
"Too bad you don't have the time or facilities for a cold shower, Mulder," she
remarked.
He grinned sheepishly. "I'd better go into the bathroom and, uh, settle down a bit before I go out and try to act worried in front of Ashley. 'Hot and
bothered' isn't the same as 'worried,' I'm afraid."
Scully snickered. "Okay, go, Mulder. I'll meet you out front. And don't be late." It was a dumb thing to say, but it was all she could think of. He
smiled at her, gave her one last quick kiss, and left the alcove.
Scully stood alone, unable to think about what had just happened because it was so big, so unbelievable, that she could only close her eyes and let the feelings crash over her. The giddy feelings of love, of desire...of lust, you
mean, the no-longer-hateful voice interjected...of completeness, and of long-
held-in-check emotions that had finally escaped. She nearly fell back onto the
bench again, but she stood up tall, shook her head a bit to clear it, and after taking a deep breath, walked out of the alcove which had changed her life.
**************************************************
Lucky Star Inn, Tuesday evening
Scully's only clear memory of the drive to the motel was when she saw the
neon road sign which read The Lucky Star Inn and said, "There!" Mulder didn't
argue with her choice. After that, time seemed to move forward instantly to
the exact moment when the door to their room closed behind them.
Neither turned on the light. Instead, they stood close in the ashen room, able to see only silhouettes of each other, for a small eternity. Then they reached out and embraced each other, guided more by their hungry, crackling nerve endings than by eyesight.
They became a living statue of entangled limbs and stroking hands and exploring lips. Mulder moved his hand from the small of her back to caress her breast. Scully moaned and pressed closer to him, burying her fingers in his hair and attacking his face with her kisses. She couldn't seem to get enough of his lips, but that didn't stop her from trying.
Scully was not coming to Mulder a virgin any more than he was coming to her,
but the handful or so of men she had slept with in her life paled to complete
insignificance as he gently lifted her and carried her to the bed. It was
cliche to say there was a difference between having sex and making love, she
mused, but cliches always had a true statement at bottom. And the difference
between all her past lovers and Mulder could be summed up in the way his
lightest touch aroused her as fiercely as his most intimate. He had not
removed one stitch of clothing from either her or himself, instead indulging
in the special closeness that kissing offered.
Is this a game? she wondered, as she lovingly explored his soft, seemingly
endless lower lip with her upper lip. Is he holding back on purpose to see
whether he can make me go forward first? She had had one lover that liked to
do that...and while at the time she'd found it erotic, now she wasn't sure she
did. But Mulder solved that problem by sitting up and drawing her to him. He
reached for the zipper at the back of her dress and pulled it down more slowly
than necessary, the better for her to begin to un-knot his tie and unbutton
his shirt.
In the next few moments their clothes lay around and on the bed in pleasing
disarray; their underclothes soon followed. So much for that expensive dress,
she thought without a pang of regret. They lay on their sides, facing each
other. She rested her forehead against his chin, her eyes closed, drinking in
the feel and smell of his skin, his rapid heartbeat underneath her hand on his
chest. Then she gasped. He had slipped his own hand between her legs and was
languidly stroking her sex, moving up and down with his fingers, pressing
slightly harder when they passed over her clitoris.
Scully swallowed and opened her mouth as if to speak, but nothing came out but a strangled "Oh!" Never missing a beat with his hand, Mulder began to kiss her face, starting with her forehead and and moving to her eyelids and jawline and chin. A delicious sensation bloomed in her sex and she held it at bay for as long as she could, enjoying the friction of his strong yet gentle fingers as he stroked her. His lips came to rest on hers...but then he stopped the motion of his hand, and he drew away from her. Her eyes flew open in dismay, but she could see nothing in the now pitch-black room.
She wanted to reach out to him...but before she could, he took her in his arms again. He rolled their bodies so she was on her back and he was on top of her. Her legs parted as he settled his lower body on hers...and finally he entered her, moving with deliberate slowness and care. She did not want slowness and care. She arched her back and wrapped her legs around his ass, showing him in the simplest way possible what she wanted.
He gave a small gasp of surprise and pleasure at her insistence. "Scully..."
he said, his voice hoarse. It was the first time he'd spoken since they'd come
into the hotel room.
"Mulder, you don't have to treat me like a china doll. I won't break."
"But..."
She grabbed the back of his head and kissed him with new fierceness. It didn't take him long to respond in kind. He abandoned all sense of deliberation and moved with a steadily quickening rhythm. She tightened her legs around his ass and moved with him, arching her back again, leaving her throat bare to his lips as she saw completion coming toward her like the headlights of a train. Again, she tried to hold it off as long as she could, drawing her fingers up and down his spine, which was now covered with a light sheen of sweat...her breathing came faster and all of a sudden her body broke free from her mind and orgasm swept over her like a tidal wave made of light.
She plunged into the light, not knowing or caring where it took her...and then she felt her body relax, settle down onto the bed she had forgotten was there. Mulder was still on top of her, breathing so hard he was nearly panting..and then she realized he was crying softly.
"Mulder, what's wrong?" she asked. taking his head gently in her hands. She
couldn't see his expression in the dark; she moved her fingers over his well-
loved face and felt the dampness on his cheeks that could have been either
sweat or tears. "Are you okay?"
He gave a small laugh. "I'm just fine, Scully," he said. "I just don't think
I ever want to leave here and now. The thought of the world outside this room
is hateful to me."
"The world outside this room doesn't exist tonight, Mulder," she replied, pulling his head down so his cheek rested on her breastbone. "And if you have
your wits about you, you're going to make sure that this night lasts for some
time. I'm nowhere near ready to stop."
He made a sound that might have been a groan. "Tall order, Scully."
Scully paused, not sure whether he was joking or not. He didn't sound like it. "I've been waiting for five years, Mulder. It's a pretty short order for me."
He moved a little in her arms. "Can I at least catch my breath?"
She frowned at his weak tone. Then she sighed and said, "All right, Mulder, but if..."
Her last word was choked off as he suddenly flipped them both over so she was
lying on top of him, his hands cupping her ass. "I think I just got my second
wind," he announced, and she knew he was wearing his most evil grin.
She started to scold him, but instead leaned down and kissed him gently. "I
love you, Mulder," she said for the second time. She was beginning to like the
way it sounded.
"I love you too, Scully," he replied. His hand moved up the line of her body to stroke her hair. She caught it.
"Then show me you love me, Mulder," she said, as she slid off him onto the bed and pulled him on top of her once more. "Show me again."
He did. This time she welcomed his slowness...he moved with his own tender rhythm, caring as much for her pleasure as for his own. Scully wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her palms flat against his back, wishing they could somehow be even closer than skin to skin. She wished the outside world really didn't exist--that she would never leave this perfect moment in time where there was only a happiness she hadn't thought she'd ever feel. She heard herself calling out his name...not his first but his last name, the name she
knew and had grown to love him by. Her orgasm came not on a wave of light this
time, but a wave of warmth and a sensation of freefalling...she cried out his
name again, digging her fingers into his back as she reached the height of her
pleasure.
Her body seemed to float back down to the bed. A syrupy, contented lethargy
stole over her and she smiled lazily. She found one of Mulder's hands and
brought it to her face. He kissed her softly on the forehead and traced his
index finger over her lips...and paused.
"Scully, you're bleeding!" he exclaimed.
"Wha..." she touched her tongue to the place where his finger was and tasted
blood. "I...must have bitten myself," she said.
He ran his thumb over her bottom lip, gently wiping away the blood. It stung,
but she didn't care. "What am I going to do with you, Scully?" he chided. "No
matter what we do it seems you get hurt."
He rolled onto his back again and moved her so her head was on his shoulder. She relaxed into the curve of his arm around her waist. "Well, I guess you're
going to have to watch over me more closely, Mulder," she said. Her fingers
crept up his breast bone and back down again, stroking the hair on his chest.
"It'll be my pleasure," he replied. "I just think I was crazy not to have seen you as more than a friend and partner before now."
"No," Scully said. "No, you weren't crazy. If we'd done this sooner, it wouldn't have counted for as much. I'm still your friend, and your partner,
and this doesn't ruin what we already have. It makes it stronger."
He kissed her hair. "Then I'm glad I was a blind fool for so long."
"Me too."
They talked for a little while longer, basking in the happiness of newly reaffirmed companionship and newly discovered love, letting the drowsiness
overtake them slowly, until they descended into a deep and contented sleep,
safe in the circle of each other's arms.
**************************************************
THE END.
© 1997 uberscully@mailexcite.com