Title: Stop Me
Author: Gina Rain (ginarain@aol.com)
Category: MSR
Rating: NC-17(sex)
Spoilers: The Rain King
Archive:  Anywhere, just let me know
Summary: Fate catches up with Mulder and Scully.
Disclaimer: CC and Co. own it. Yada yada.
Notes: Thank you, Sybil, for the beta and the 
cheerleading.




". . .The cow jumped over the moon. . .
something, something, something. . .
and the dish ran away with the spoon."

Dana Scully opened one eye and looked down. Her 
partner was lying on the bed beside her with his 
head next to her feet and his feet next to her 
head. He was lying on his stomach with his face 
resting on a scrunched up pillow, watching 
basketball and reciting nursery rhymes. She 
nudged his tee-shirt clad shoulder with her bare 
toes.

"Don't cheat," she said. "Recite it properly."

"I don't remember the middle."

"I thought you had a photographic memory?"

"I guess the camera wasn't loaded that day. 
C'mon, Scully, tell me the words."

" don't remember them."

"Really?"

"Yes. Really."

"Oh," he sounded disappointed. "For some reason, 
I thought you'd be big on nursery rhymes."

"Ah. You're buying into the perfect family 
fantasy again. Nursery rhymes and warm milk 
before bed. Actually, by the time I arrived, it 
was more 'go to bed right this instant, young 
lady' and 'don't make me tell you again' as my 
standard lullaby."

Mulder dropped his head to the pillow.

"I'm crushed."

She smiled and closed her eyes.

She knew how he felt. In a nursery rhyme world, 
cows attempted the impossible--and succeeded. In 
a fantasy world, families repeated the verse to 
inspire their children to aim high in their 
dreams. In Mulder and Scully's world, poor 
creatures took flight against their will and 
crash landed into a pile of hamburger. It was 
somewhat disheartening.

A lot of things were disheartening.

The past few days had been nothing short of odd. 
Even by their standards. After "solving" the case 
in a very strange manner, they basically attended 
a high school reunion. And as uncomfortable as 
these events could be for people who actually 
attended the school in question, Mulder and 
Scully should have been able to have a stress-
free, pretty enjoyable time. It was sentimental, 
as they all are, but it was also rather sweet. 
Couples holding each other tightly, letting the 
memories of a time long gone sweep away the 
tension of the day's events. Old music, old 
friends, old loves. Mulder and Scully were the 
only ones not dancing. Like some chaperones for 
the prom. Don't dip into the punch; don't touch 
each other and for heaven's sake, don't let the 
kids grope each other in public. What they do at 
the beach later that evening is their parents' 
problem.

But they weren't kids. Any of them. And Mulder 
and Scully were not officially working in any 
capacity at that point in time. And the music was 
just as familiar to them as it was to any one in 
that room.

But Mulder didn't ask her. She didn't ask him. 
And both carefully avoided glancing in the 
other's direction lest they should find the other 
one expecting an invitation.

Damn. They were an odd pair.

And after standing around and watching others 
enjoy themselves, the partners packed up their 
things, went to Scully's motel room, checked 
their plane reservations for the following day 
and climbed into the same bed. One might expect 
that situation to be erotic. Or at least a bit 
romantic. 

She was in a summer weight pajama--tap pants 
instead of the long ones she usually had to spend 
an hour hemming. He was in his standard gray tee 
shirt and navy blue sweat pants. She was sort of 
trying to sleep. He was sort of watching a game 
on television. Such were the moments that 
fantasies were destroyed by.

She felt Mulder roll over to the opposite edge of 
the king-sized bed and roll back towards her.

"This is the bestest bed ever, Scully."

"Bestest?"

"Hey--no cow remnants. . .clean sheets. . . firm 
mattress. . . cute toes," he pinched her little 
toe to emphasize the point, "what more could a 
man want?"

What more, indeed?

She smiled again, never bothering to open her 
eyes, and shifted an inch to one side and then 
the other--burrowing into the mattress. She 
wasn't in the mood to watch television but wasn't 
going to spoil his fun by telling him to turn it 
off. Besides, she could sleep through almost 
anything. Now that Mulder had determined the 
'bestitude' of the bed, she was sure he'd either 
relax with the game or fall asleep himself.

She felt him shift again. He tentatively touched 
one finger to her middle toe and then ran it down 
to her heel. She curled all her toes in response.

"Ticklish?"

"No, Mulder. I'm not. Watch the game."

He ran his finger back up her foot. 

"Mulder. . ."she said in warning.

"Scully. . ." he responded in kind.

He captured her big toe between his thumb and 
forefinger.

"This little piggy went to market."

Release.

He grabbed her second toe.

"This little piggy stayed home."

Scully sat up and pulled her foot toward her 
body.

" you stop?"

"But I know the words to this one," he said as he 
winked at her.

"I don't give a . . ."She took a deep breath and 
exhaled. "My feet are rather sensitive.  
ticklish--but sensitive. So just--watch the game 
and let me sleep? Please?"

He nodded and she closed her eyes.

Every single male she knew did this type of thing 
once in a while. Carried a joke beyond the point 
of reason. In a way she was lucky. Mulder didn't 
do it very often. But, this was not a joke to 
her. Mulder touching her feet was turning her on. 
This evening had been full of unrequited 
everything. It was slightly disappointing but 
manageable. She didn't want to have to deal with 
it in an aroused state. It would make life that 
much more pitiful.

She took another breath and relaxed. He'd 
probably get bored staring at her and turn back 
to the game.

But he didn't. She felt his lips softly kiss her 
little toe. A sweet, warm kiss that traveled 
right up her leg and delivered what she had been 
bemoaning the lack of: eroticism. In spades.

But he was only doing it to be silly. Wasn't he?

"Mulder, what  I just say?"

She sounded exactly like her mother and she knew 
it. 'Don't make me come down there' was just a 
breath away.

As she glared at him, his expression changed from 
highly playful to serious. Not guilty. Not sad. 
Just serious.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I am. If you want to kick 
me out of the bed, I understand. I could sleep in 
the tub or something."

She didn't want him to be serious. She liked his 
playful side. Most of the time.

But he wasn't just trying to be playful. What had 
she said before when he told her he was giving 
Holman advice on his love life? The blind leading 
the blind? Pot, meet kettle. 

Holman clumsily battled his way past his 
repressed emotions and had been rewarded with his 
heart's desire. Mulder had quite probably just 
made an attempt to do the same and had almost 
received a kick in the teeth in return. All 
because she could no longer recognize a "pass" 
for what it was. 

She crossed her right foot over her left ankle.

"If you do one foot, you have to do the other. I 
like symmetry."

He looked at her with a deer in the headlights 
expression on his face. He leaned down and gave 
the small toe of her right foot a quick peck and 
returned to his pillow. His eyes, once again, 
were intent on the game.

Missed opportunities. Opportunities blown. Ah, 
well. It was her turn to diffuse the highly 
charged tension in the room and, this time, it 
was fairly easy.

She turned away from him and before burrowing her 
head back into the pillow, quipped, "I guess now 
is not the time to mention the athlete's foot 
treatments I've been receiving."

She felt his silent chuckle in the wavy motion of 
the mattress.

All was right with the world.

She could sleep.

Mulder lowered the volume of the television and 
shifted again. It was like sleeping with a 
rocking horse. If he resumed the piggy game on 
her toes,  would take the room with the dead 
cow.

She braced herself but his warm hand landed on 
her ankle instead. He just kept it there for a 
moment and then slowly stroked up to the calf of 
her leg and back.
 
Once the storm had stopped, it had turned into a 
very pleasant evening. Not overly warm; not 
overly cold. The warmth of his fingers was 
pleasant. Soothing. He probably was watching the 
game, using her smooth legs as a place to keep 
his hand, to burn up some excess energy, or 
reconnect after their awkward moment of a few 
minutes earlier.

Wrong again.

He moved his hands so one traveled up to her 
knee, while the other was at her ankle, then 
dipped his head and softly kissed the calf of her 
leg.

Lord. Direct hit to her erogenous zone.

She opened one eye; then the other, but was 
afraid to turn and look at him. When his tongue 
warmly ran over her flesh and his teeth scraped 
against her well-toned leg, she let out a 
completely involuntary gasp.

She finally turned to look.  His eyes were closed 
and he was moving his kisses up to her knee. He 
lifted his head long enough to whisper against 
her skin.

"Just tell me to stop, Scully."

"I will," she said, the response out of her mouth 
before any thought processes were involved. She 
felt his smile as he lifted his head slightly and 
pushed at her left side until she was lying flat 
on her back. 

"Mmmm. . .I like this better," he said.

He ignored her thighs and went straight for her 
midsection--lifting her pajama top up a couple of 
inches and warming his lips on the flesh just 
above the waistband of her pants.

Hands. She needed to do something with her hands. 
Having them clenched in fists at her side, while 
he was sucking on her belly seemed too 
belligerent.  She placed one hand on his back, 
feeling the muscles of his shoulders ripple under 
her fingertips, while the other hand landed in 
his hair--pressing him closer.

He pushed the pajama top up another couple of 
inches.

"Mmmmm. . .stop me, Scully."

"Yes, I will. I will," she said, encouraging his 
upward movement. She felt the warm, wet slide of 
his tongue as it passed under the curve of her 
breast. One hand left his head as she tried to 
push her pajama top up further. He lifted his 
head and looked in her eyes. Then, he shook his 
head from right to left--slowly. Once he warmed 
up to the situation, all traces of the guy long-
out-of-practice disappeared. She was more than 
happy to let him take control. She was having a 
little difficulty getting her thoughts into any 
sort of order. They were randomly darting out at 
her, in between hormonal surges. 

She rested her hand on his other shoulder, as he 
slowly unbuttoned her pajama top. He slipped his 
hands underneath her body and lifted her into a 
seated position as she slid her arms around to 
his back.

He laughed softly as he rested his head against 
her neck.

"Are you stopping me now?"

"No!"

"Well, I can't exactly take off your top in this 
position, Scully."

She unclenched the fingers holding the back of 
his tee shirt and dropped her hands to her side. 
He slid the silky material off her shoulders and 
she wiggled until it was an emerald green heap 
below her. She saw him move his hand to cup her 
breast, but she wanted something else first. She 
took the hem of his tee shirt and yanked in an 
upward direction.

"Off?" he asked.

"Off."

He pulled the tee shirt off and reached over for 
her discarded pajama top. He dropped both of them 
on the floor by Scully's side of the bed.

Mulder was on his haunches before her and she was 
sitting not six inches away from him.

"Stop me, Scully?"

"Later."

And she slid her arms around his back again--
feeling her breasts against his chest. Scully 
felt her nipples tighten and peak against the 
slightly rough texture of his chest hair. She 
threw her head back slightly in order to lean 
further into the sensation and he used the 
opportunity to swoop down and latch his warm 
mouth to her neck.

Another automatic groan came from deep within her 
and his movements became less sure. More random. 
His hands were pulling her closer while his 
mouth, tongue and teeth were everywhere: across 
her shoulder, back to her neck, up to her ear. 
His breathing was rapid and she could feel his 
heart beat right into her own chest.

'I don't know what to kiss first, Scully," he 
whispered, drawing her earlobe in his mouth--
sucking and then releasing.

"Then don't." The answer came to her in a flash.

"Don't kiss you?"

She slid one hand down his back and stuck her 
fingers under the waistband of his sweat pants. 
She slowly kneaded the flesh of his firm behind 
and moved her body even closer to the erection 
that had been poking her in the stomach ever 
since she sat up.

"You can kiss me all night. Later." Instead of 
doing many things all at once; do one thing 
really, really well.

"Later," he repeated, disentangling himself from 
her limbs and stepping over her body and onto the 
floor. "Unless you stop me, of course," he said, 
pulling his sweatpants and boxers off.

"Of course," she said, shimmying out of her tap 
pants and piling a few pillows behind her.

He got back on the bed and each hand circled one 
of her ankles--his thumbs caressing the bone. 
Scully briefly wondered if he had a foot fetish 
but decided she didn't really care. He slid his 
hands up her ankles, past her calves and to her 
knees before gently spreading her legs and 
kneeling between them.

Six years of foreplay. They had their moments: 
moments of deep, undying loyalty, affection, 
love, even lust. But it was always controlled. 
Sitting up--exposed and vulnerable before the 
exposed and vulnerable man she had let her life 
revolve around--well, it made the anticipation 
feel as if it would damned near kill her.

"Mulder," she was sure Mulder never heard that 
breathy, low voice before. Because she was pretty 
sure she had never heard it come out of her mouth 
before.

"Hmmm?"

"Don't stop."

He moved forward and positioned the head of his 
penis directly over her clitoris, then down 
toward her opening, then back up, lubricating 
himself with her own arousal. She shivered 
beneath him and gasped so sharply that he got 
into position quickly and then stopped to look 
up. His eyes found hers and locked as he began 
the slow slide home. She reached out and grabbed 
the forearms that were hovering slightly above 
her body and bit her lip--trying to keep the 
moans and groans and grasps that were trying to 
escape--confined. She suspected she might let out 
a wail of some sort, and she didn't want to scare 
him away at this particular moment.

She released a deep breath when she knew he was 
fully inside her. She opened her eyes, not even 
remembering when she had closed them. He was 
staring at her with such warmth in his eyes. They 
reflected a softness, amidst the almost 
unbearable feeling of passion. He smiled and gave 
her a half nod, half come-hither look that she 
understood completely. She lifted her lips to 
his. Their first real kiss and in her attempt to 
reach, she managed to drive his penis into her 
just the slightest bit further. As if the kiss 
itself wouldn't have been memorable enough.

The resulting moan went straight into his mouth 
and apparently down through his body. He started 
to move.

In and out. 

Strong and sure.

The exquisite friction was driving her into a 
frenzy; she suddenly wasn't sure she could be 
satisfied in this way alone, Scully so wanted the 
moment to be perfect but wasn't sure if he would 
"take care of it" or if she should sneak her hand 
between their bodies and help things along. She 
didn't have to bother. He hooked his arm under 
her knee, pushing it up toward her chest and 
increased his pace of thrusting at a new angle 
until she joined the ranks of fairy tale bovine 
and took a flying leap straight over the moon. A 
few seconds later, she sensed Mulder had followed 
the same path.

By the time their breathing returned to a semi-
normal state, Scully looked down and took stock 
of the situation. She saw Mulder--his nose 
against her left nipple--his arms straight out to 
the sides--in flying position--draped over her. 
He was still--technically--lying between her legs 
and one of her feet was flat against his thigh as 
she was sliding the sole of the other against his 
ass. Maybe she was the one with the foot fetish.

A few pillows were on the ground, the formerly 
tucked in sheets were askew and the ration of 
body fluids in their respective bodies--as 
opposed to what was on the bed or on each other--
was severely diminished.

Mulder moved his head and slowly ran his tongue 
over her nipple.

He stopped his actions long enough to mutter, 
"You didn't stop me."

"You promised me kisses later. I couldn't stop 
you until you delivered, could I?"

"No."

"Mulder?"

"Hmmm?" he went back to her nipple--pulling more 
of the flesh into his mouth.

"You're right. I think this may be the bestest 
bed ever."

She watched him smile against her breast and once 
again found her hands pulling his body even 
closer to her own.




Author's notes:

Two words: fluctuating hormones.

That's my story. That's my excuse. Thanks for 
reading.

This was sort of in response to the Haven 5 W's 
challenge, and sort of in self-defense because I 
owed Sybil smut and I didn't want her coming 
after me!
The challenge:
WHO: Mulder and Scully 
WHAT: Their first time 
WHERE: Location location location 
WHEN: When did it happen? 
WHY: premeditated or spontaneous 
Your elements: 
Muldertoes (or any toes but mulder toes are the 
bestest) -- You have Mulder playing with Scully's 
toes. That counts.
Scully being vocal (in any way) --you said ANY 
way. She was moaning a lot.
the mulder lip--hey--there was a kiss that 
almost. . .well, lips were involved 
a 'wink' (I threw in one of those)
Mission accomplished.