TITLE: Out of the Ordinary AUTHOR: Diana Battis DISTRIBUTION: Okay for Gossamer. Anywhere else, just ask. I usually say yes. CLASSIFICATION: MSR RATING: NC-17 SPOILERS: None SUMMARY: Mulder and Scully continue to explore the relationship started in One Ordinary Day. This is a sequel to that story, though it isn't necessary to read the first to follow this one. If you are interested, it can be found at my site as noted below. DISCLAIMER: Don't own 'em. Never have, never will, damn it! FEEDBACK: DianaBattis@aol.com or All4Mulder@aol.com Author's Notes at the end. My fanfiction: http://www.geocities.com/dbattis.geo/TheXFile Fic.html ***** Mulder stood in the hall, damp and uncomfortable, cradling two large brown bags of Chinese food. He could feel the wetness of the bags, their soggy shape waiting for him to let his guard down so the food could come crashing through. Shit! He swore softly as the bottom of one began to tear, the heat of the aluminum container burning into his fingers as he struggled to maintain his hold. Where in hell were his keys? This evening had gotten off to a bad start. He'd been late leaving the office, and traffic had been unbearable. The food he'd ordered wasn't ready when he arrived to pick it up. Then it had started to rain, a steady downpour that made visibility bad and driving hazardous. Murphy's Law was working overtime tonight, and if it persisted he could imagine them eating their rather expensive dinner from the hall floor. Finally! Breathing a sigh of relief, he pulled the keys from his pocket, just in time to see the door swing open. "Hi." Scully's eyes drank in the sight of him as he entered the apartment. He had the look of a fallen angel, the partially unbuttoned black shirt and tight jeans emphasizing his darkly handsome form. His hair, damp from the rain, glistened in the muted light. She reached up, placing a soft kiss on his lips before closing the door behind him. Walking swiftly past her, he headed for the kitchen to deposit the nearly disintegrated bags on the table. Shrugging out of his damp jacket, he hung it over the back of a chair before turning to look at Scully. He studied her, his eyes moving over her, caressing her with his smoldering gaze. A look of hunger appeared in his eyes, and she felt an answering thrill. Twirling around, she showed off the royal blue silk dress that clung to her like a second skin. She'd bought it with tonight in mind. Mandarin style, the form fitting sheath emphasized the curve of her breast, her tiny waist, and softly rounded hips. At a quick glance, she looked modestly covered -- until she moved. The sides were slit extremely high, and as she spun the panels of the dress flowed apart, revealing an almost indecent expanse of shapely leg. It was more daring than anything she owned, and she felt slightly wanton wearing it. But she'd bought the dress anyway, hoping to shock his socks off. And if the look on his face was any indication, she'd achieved the desired effect. She loved when he looked at her like that. As if she was the most beautiful woman in the world. God knows, she wasn't. Her hair was too curly, her legs too short, her breasts too small. But he didn't seem to notice her flaws. He made her feel beautiful. Their Friday nights were important to them. All pretense of working had been abandoned, thanks to tea and fortune cookies. Instead, they spent the time exploring their relationship, two intensely private people baring their souls. He smiled, coming to stand in front of her. His hand reached out, gently cupping her cheek, his head dipping. As he moved to cover the remaining distance, Scully placed her hand in the middle of his chest, warding off further contact. "Not so fast, Mulder. Food first." She looked at him appraisingly. "We have a big night ahead of us. You have to keep up your strength, among other things," she teased, before ducking under his arm and heading off to the kitchen. ***** "Come on, Scully! One little taste...you'll like it, I promise." He waved a small piece of chicken under her nose, coaxing her to try it. The curtains were drawn against the rain, and candles provided their only light, creating a cozy atmosphere. He was sprawled on the couch, his feet up on her coffee table. She sat next to him, her legs folded under her, her knees resting against his thigh. "You know I don't like spicy things, Mulder." She made a face at the tidbit he held, and reached out to push his hand away. "I am not going to destroy the lining of my mouth for you. Honestly, I don't know how you can eat that stuff." He popped the piece into his mouth, chewing it with exaggerated enjoyment. "Scully, you just don't know what you're missing." She snorted. "Indigestion and bad breath, just to name two things!" His hand immediately went to cover his nose and mouth, breathing quickly to check the validity of her words. "My breath doesn't stink!" His voice, like scotch whisky, smooth with smoky undertones, held an indignant note. "I love you, Mulder! You are so easy!" She laughed at him in delight, her eyes sparkling with mischief. He looked at her, keeping his face deliberately innocent. "I thought you loved me when I was hard," he teased. "Mulder!" She couldn't help it, she blushed. She could feel the color rising in her face, and mentally cursed her Celtic heritage. "Last chance. Live dangerously, Scully. Explore the extreme possibilities. I promise you, it's not *that* hot." He held the small bit of chicken in his fingers. "Just one little taste, that's all. You can do it." "This is against my better judgment..." She leaned forward, and gently closed her lips around the piece of chicken. Chewing it slowly, she felt the slight but not unpleasant bite of the red pepper and tasted the somewhat sweet flavor of the sauce. Bringing his fingers to her mouth, she gently sucked the remaining sauce from them, smiling when she heard his sharp intake of breath. "Delicious. And the chicken was tasty, too." He put his arm around her and pulled her against him, whispering in her ear. "You are a wicked, wicked woman!" They sat together in companionable silence, sipping tea and listening to the wind as it rattled the windows. Alone like this, they were different people. He had hidden behind the facade of arrogance, afraid to let others see his vulnerability. He'd watched Scully as she endured untold heartache, concealing her pain behind a cool mask of efficiency. Together, they peeled away the protective layers, exposing their longings and emotions. Coming out of the dark place that is loneliness, they were, finally, unafraid to love. Scully sighed, looking at the dishes littering the coffee table. "Guess we ought to clean up." The meal was finished, tea and fortunes shared, but she made no move to rise. It was too nice, sitting here, with Mulder's arm around her. "It can wait." He was enjoying it too, this quiet time spent with her. Listening to her laugh, feeling the warmth of her next to him. "I like sitting here with you." "I like it, too. And I like other things..." Her hand was on his thigh, resting there, the pressure light at the moment but full of the promise of things to come. The sound of the phone shattered the comfortable silence. Reluctantly, Scully pulled herself out of Mulder's arms. "It may be my mother." "Hello? Who? Oh, yes. Mrs. Dunn. My mother mentioned you would be calling. The church festival next month? Yes, I can do it, if I'm in town." Mulder crept up silently behind her, his arms stealing around her waist to pull her against him. She caught her breath as she felt his hands reach up to brush over her body, nearly dropping the phone. "Wha...What was that? I'm sorry, I didn't hear you. Ten o'clock. I'll mark my calendar. Ohhhh, yes..." His lips were at her neck, pressing whisper soft kisses there, and the resulting sensations made coherent conversation nearly impossible. "Nothing, I'm fine, Mrs. Dunn, I just have a slight headache," she improvised. "Good...Goodbye." She dropped the phone to the floor and turned in his arms. "Headache, Scully?" He murmured the words in her ear. "You have a headache? Isn't that a rather cliched excuse? I'd have thought someone as articulate as you are could come up with a better one." Each sentence was punctuated by a lingering kiss on her neck, as his lips moved closer to her mouth. Reaching it, he kissed her, his lips moving gently over hers. "You taste good, Scully," he whispered. "Mmm." Her eyes were closed, and she burrowed her head into his chest, rubbing her cheek against him. "I do like this dress." His hands smoothed the silky fabric where it clung to her shoulders, dipping beneath the collar to touch the cool skin it covered. "You look beautiful, Scully," he murmured huskily. She shivered as he continued to stroke her neck, his fingers moving behind her head to thread through her hair. Bending, he placed small, open-mouthed kisses along her jaw. She tasted like honey, warm and sweet. He heard the tenor of her breathing change, as she moaned her approval. Her lips were parted, slightly moist and very inviting. He kissed her again, softly at first, then with more pressure, sliding his tongue into the warmth of her mouth. Her hands reached for his head, her fingers running through his hair as her tongue whirled around his, savoring the texture and touch. Every kiss, every touch, was like the first time for them. The years of self-imposed loneliness had left them with a hunger that wasn't easily assuaged. Straining together, bodies as one, two lost souls finding what had been missing from their lives. Finding love. His hand moved from her waist to one of the slits in the dress, touching the smoothness of her thigh. Scully gasped, pressing into him, feeling his arousal. His hand continued its exploration, tracing random patterns on her softness before moving up to cup her bottom. Her bare bottom . . . Now he was the one gasping, the totally unanticipated feeling of flesh where silky fabric had been expected a decided turn-on. His hand cupped her rounded softness, pressing her more fully into him as his lips again covered her mouth. His tongue stroked across her lips, parting them as his mouth slanted more fully over hers, then sweeping inward, kissing her deeply. God she loved the feel and taste of him. His tongue, like velvet, playing along her teeth and gums, sliding against hers. His mouth, hot and spicy, tasting of ginger and peppers, and she was hungry for him. Scully broke the kiss to move her mouth over his chin, down to his collarbone, nipping his flesh lightly. Her lips lingered at the hollow of his throat, touching it with her tongue before sucking the slightly salty skin. She could feel the groan building in him as she increased the pressure, releasing it with an audible pop, leaving her mark. Her hands slid slowly down his chest, gently stroking the softness of the shirt she loved as her hands moved down to tug it from his jeans. Fingers trembled over the buttons, opening each one carefully. Her hands skimmed lightly over his stomach, feeling the underlying muscles contract under them as they moved up to his chest. Her nails trailed lightly over his skin, finding his nipples, hearing his cry of pleasure as her mouth replaced them. She shifted from one to the other, teeth scraping lightly against the sensitive points. It was always like this with them. No words were necessary, as each inherently knew what the other wanted, needed. They moved back to the couch, settling themselves against the cushions as hands and lips continued their exploration. Mulder reached behind her, fumbling for the zipper in her dress. He felt it give, but there was also some sort of hook at the neck that resisted all his attempts to open it. Her hands replaced his, and in one second the dress is open down the back to her waist. She pulled her arms free, pushing the dress down to her waist, baring her breasts. She felt his eyes touch her, as tangible and real as if it were his flesh moving over her. The heat of his gaze burned into her, branding her. And then she felt his fingers, feathery light, making her quiver as they trailed over her softness. Her body arched up to increase the contact, incoherent sounds flowing from her lips as she spoke a language only he understood. ***** He watched her react, felt her tremors and the answering ones coursing through his own body. His hands brushed slowly over her skin, up to her breasts, perfectly formed and made for him alone. He cupped them, pushing them together, his mouth sliding over the sensitive skin to the pink crowns. Her nipples grew tighter, puckering as though waiting for his kiss. He closed his mouth over one, tongue laving the sensitive nub, teeth abrading and lips soothing. He pulled tightly on the tip, before leaving it to pay homage to its twin. Scully's fingers combed through his hair, holding his head as he continued his tribute to her pink-tipped flesh. Moving his lips upward, over her softness, he traced a path with his tongue. He used light, teasing strokes, moving over her collarbone, along her neck, before finally closing over her mouth again. His hand stroked down her side, the silky material cool to his touch. Reaching the slit in the dress, he ran his hand under it, tracing small circles on her inner thigh. She jerked in response, a tiny sigh escaping her lips as his hand stroked higher and higher, pushing the front panel of the dress aside to expose her pale and delicate flesh. Higher still he moved, until his fingers cupped the curl-covered mound. "Oh, god, Mulder," she cried against his mouth as her legs parted to allow his exploration. She was so hot and wet. Her head dropped back to rest against the cushion as his fingers found their mark. They gently stroked her folds before dipping inward. He coated them with her moisture, moving to swipe over the tiny bundle of nerves contained within. He watched her, his eyes fierce with passion he labored to keep under control. This was for her. His pleasure would come later. She rolled her hips, pushing into his hand, little mewling sounds coming from her as he continued his motions. Swiping over her bud, sweeping along her slit before thrusting two fingers inside. Moving them in and out, using his thumb to apply the needed friction. She moved against his hands, the expression on her face tight and passionate, her lips open as she struggled just to breathe. His face was dark and intense, eyes glittering with desire. He pushed her, giving her more and more, forcing her emotions beyond anything she'd ever imagined possible. Her tongue swiping over her lips acted as bait, luring his mouth to hers. His lips opened hotly, his thrusting tongue mimicking the action of his fingers. And his thumb, never stopping its motions. Rubbing harder, applying more pressure, swiping over her clit, bringing her closer. Her whole world centered on his mouth, his hands, him. He pulled back to look at her. She was close, he felt her muscles tensing. His fingers slipped over her, into her, back and forth, maintaining the cycle. She rocked harder against his hand, her desperate sounds of pleasure filling the air. She tightened, her body arching, and then he felt her shudder, felt the spasms as she clenched him within her, her voice hoarsely crying out his name. He continued to stroke her lightly, as her body vibrated with the tiny aftershocks of orgasm. She laid there, her breathing erratic, color high, skin glistening with a fine sheen of perspiration. Beautiful, he thought, she's beautiful. A languorous and slightly shaky arm reached up to pull his head down. Scully kissed him, mouth opened slightly as her tongue played across his lips. It swept into his mouth, slow and velvety smooth as it dipped and swirled against his. "Thank you, Mulder." Her voice was barely discernible over the pounding in his ears. ***** She stood slowly, and he noticed the slight trembling of her limbs as she moved to push the dress down past her hips, allowing it to fall into a heap on the floor. Looking at him, she put out her hand. He stood, reaching out to clasp it, and let her lead him to the bedroom. The room was dimly lit, shadows in the corners melting away as the light focused on the waiting bed. It was already turned down, inviting them to partake of their pleasures upon its cool surface. Scully sat on the side, scooting along to rest her back on the pillows propped against the headboard. Her eyes raked over him, head to foot, before coming back to his face. "One of us is a bit...overdressed, Mulder." His hands instantly went to the front of his shirt, ready to wildly rip it off, but Scully stopped him. "Let me, Mulder. I don't want you to tear this shirt. I love this one, it's my favorite." Her hands slowly clutched the fabric, carefully pulling it off his shoulders. He sat there, enjoying the feeling of her hands on his clothes, on him. She pressed her lips against his shoulder, and he felt her tongue as it swiped along his flesh to his throat. Her mouth was at his neck, kissing the mark she left earlier. He reached up to capture her head, but she evaded his hands. "No touching, Mulder. You had your turn, it's mine now." She ran her tongue over his chest, pulling at his nipples with pressure, causing the tiny centers to stiffen. Her mouth moved down to his stomach, dipping her tongue into his navel, running her lips down until it met the denim still covering him. His hands clenched the sheets, twisting them, wanting to hold her instead. Closing his eyes, he gave in to the sensations. Feeling her hands at his waist, as they unfastened the button to his jeans, and then the slight pressure of her palm resting on the denim. She stroked his length through the fabric, light teasing motions, and he felt his jeans became impossibly tight. He heard the faint rasp of the zipper as it was carefully eased down. And then blessed freedom as she opened his jeans. Her fingers slid over him, only the silky fabric of his boxers separating her from his hardness. She reached in through the opening, and her hand felt cool against the heat of his arousal. He gave a strangled cry of pleasure as it closed over him, measuring him, sweeping from root to tip. His erection was almost painful, and he ached for release. His hips thrust upward as she began a rhythmic stroking, eager to maintain the contact he craved. Her hand left him to tug the jeans and boxers over hips raised to facilitate the procedure. Freed from the constraints of clothing, his arousal commanded her attention. She straddled his knees, reaching down to stroke his shaft, once, twice... Her hand released him, and she sat back, watching him. "Don't stop, please." His voice sounded strange to his ears, harsh and deep, his throat painfully dry. Raising up on his elbows, he looked at her, saw the slight smile on her face before her head lowered to take him in her mouth. The sight of her, her mouth on him, was almost as erotic as the feeling that maneuver produced. Her tongue swirling over the head, down the shaft and back again, over and under, little strokes of velvet calculated to drive him wild. Her lips caressing the tip, sucking lightly, as she moved to clasp the sac of nerves below it, rolling them gently in her hand. He groaned in tortured pleasure as he felt her mouth take in more of his length. Her lips sliding over him, pulling him deeper into her mouth. She began to move, slowly at first, then picking up speed, her hair swinging about her face as she continued her ministrations. Tongue and lips, sweeping over him, feeling him pulse and grow. His hands reached out for her, resting on her shoulders, squeezing them lightly as she moved faster. Low moans reverberated through him as his hips shifted upward without volition. He felt his climax fast approaching, and his voice, sounding rusty and unused, begged her to stop before it was too late. "Please, Scully, I want to be inside you." Scully placed one last kiss on the tip before pulling away. She straddled him, grasping the shaft in her hands to guide him into her. "Then come in me, Mulder," she whispered. With a sharp, downward thrust, she impaled herself on him. She was hot, wet, and tight, still tight even after these weeks together. He groaned, incoherent sounds that fill the air even as he filled her. She moved over him, slow and controlled, but it wasn't what he wanted. His hands moved to her waist, holding her, directing her movements. Her head was thrown back, her hands on her breasts, kneading them as she rocked her body. He felt himself tightening, all the blood in his body centered on his pulsing cock. She moved upward, and he knew that this was it, that one more stroke was all he could stand. He wanted her pleasure even more than his own. And she was close, he could tell. His thumb opened her, finding her nub and applied short, hard swipes. That pressure was enough and he felt her clenching him, her back arching in pleasure as her orgasm surged through her. She moved down, one last erratic slide, her muscles gripping him tightly within her as he, too, climaxed . Her body flowed over him like liquid, her limbs boneless. She rested against him, their hearts beating in unison, even their breathing seemed synchronized as they shared that moment. Her mouth rested against his neck, kissing him, murmuring his name. Pulling her tightly to him, he kissed her hair, his eyes already closed. Lying there, limbs entwined, they drifted off to sleep. ***** He awoke to the sound of thunder, and found himself alone, the bed empty. Sitting up abruptly, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. And then he noticed her, silhouetted against the window. She was wearing his shirt, standing there in the dark, illuminated by flashes of lightning, her hair in beautiful disarray. He walked over to her, putting his arms around her waist, pulling her back against him. Her arms rested over his as she leaned into him. "I didn't mean to awaken you." Her voice was soft, and he strained to hear her over the sound of the storm. "It's okay, Scully. I'm a light sleeper. I heard you get up. You're all right, aren't you?" "I'm fine." Poor choice of words, she realized, as she felt him tense. "Mulder, I really am okay. The noise of the storm woke me, and I wanted to watch it. The lightning flashing, the way the rain shifts when the wind changes direction -- it's wild, and beautiful." Another burst of lightning illuminated the outdoors, the crash of thunder immediately following. They could see the street, flooded with water that swirled and eddied in its race to the storm drains. Small tree branches littered the sidewalk, and rain soaked leaves spun in the wind, holding on to trees that bent and swayed with the force of the storm. The wind changed direction, and the rain struck the window with force, obscuring their view. "I want to be like that, Mulder. Wild and free. It's hard for me. I...keep so much bottled up inside." She brought his hand to her face, kissing the back of it before linking her fingers with his. "I've never felt like this before. I've never loved anyone like I love you. It scares me." "It scares me, too. I keep waiting for you to change your mind, for you to realize that this is impossible." "Impossible? In what way?" "In every way, Scully. No one would ever believe this. I'm not sure I believe it." "Believe it? Mulder, people think we've been lovers for years. Not to burst your bubble, but I've heard it said that the only reason I've remained your partner is for the terrific sex." "Why do you, Scully?" He really wanted to know. He needed to understand why she put up with him for all those years. He had no illusions about himself. He knew he was a miserable bastard, difficult, opinionated, smug. "Why do you stay?" "For the terrific sex, of course." As if to prove her point, she reached down, stroking her fingers over his thigh, and he felt his body responding to her touch. "Scully, wait..." His hand reached out to still her movements. "I really want to know. Why do you put up with me, why do you stay?" He heard her sigh. "Mulder, I'm not sure what to say. I respect you, and trust you. You challenge me, and make me question my beliefs. But it's more than that. We share a passion that is all too rare in this world. People search their whole lives and never find what we have. I've never felt this way about anyone before. I can't imagine my life without you, and I don't ever want to. " She smiled. "Besides, I want to be around when you finally admit you're wrong." He stifled a laugh. "Do you? That could take a while. Maybe years. I'm never wrong." She tilted her head back to look at him. "Oh, I'm willing to wait. I have all the time in the world." "It hasn't been easy for us. I doubt it ever will be. Can you live with that?" He was suddenly serious, seeking her reassurance. She sighed. "Does it really have to be easy to be good? I don't think so. Easy can be boring, and one thing I've never been these past six years is bored." "Scully, I keep thinking of what you've suffered, what you've sacrificed for this cause of mine. I can't expect you to just forget about that." His body tensed perceptibly, his fingers tightening around hers. "I've cost you so much." Her fingers remained in his grip, squeezed to the point of pain, but she didn't flinch. She knew, all too well, the mental torment he was experiencing. "Mulder, did I ever tell you the Chinese parable about the butterfly?" "No." She heard the hesitant note in his voice, and smiled up at him in reassurance. "An old man found a cocoon. One day, a small opening appeared; he sat and watched for several hours as a butterfly struggled to get through that little hole. It struggled so, but then it stopped, as if exhausted by its efforts. The man decided to help the butterfly by enlarging the opening in the cocoon. The butterfly emerged easily, but something was wrong. Its body was bloated and wings shriveled. The man expected the wings to enlarge and expand to support the body, which would contract in time. But it never happened. The butterfly spent its short life crawling around with a swollen body and shriveled wings, never able to fly. The man, in his kindness and haste, didn't understand that the restricting cocoon and the struggle to emerge, were nature's way of forcing fluid from the body into its wings so that it would be ready for flight once it was free." "Mulder, everyone encounters difficulties at some point in their lives. We couldn't expect to be spared that. We've both been through some very painful experiences. It hasn't been easy for either of us. But sometimes struggles are exactly what we need in life. If we went through it without any obstacles, it would cripple us. We wouldn't be as strong as we could have been. And we would never fly." "What happens now? Where do we go from here?" His voice was low, whispering against her ear, waiting... "I don't know what the future holds for us. But I know whatever it is, we'll face it together. I love you, Mulder. Nothing else matters. Nothing." Their fingers laced together, linking them, grounding them. A flash of lightning illuminated the room, and in that split second he saw them reflected in the window, as they were meant to be. ******** The End Diana Battis Feedback welcome: DianaBattis@aol.com or All4Mulder@aol.com Author's Notes: Betas are the unsung heroes of fanfic, but I'm going to try to rectify that here. To Kristy -- My heartfelt thanks for your continued support and encouragement. You're the best!