Title: Yackety-Yack Author: Gina Rain (ginarain@aol.com) Category: MSR, Fluff Rating: R Spoilers: None Summary: In the immortal words of the Delfonics, "didn't I blow your mind this time, didn't I?" Disclaimer: CC and Company own it. Special Thanks: To Carol for beta-ing this puppy and for always making me feel good about my work. Dedicated to: The One and ONLY, Sybil, who is single- handedly trying to bring back a Renaissance of X-file fanfic writing;-) Happy birthday! You're one in five billion. Archive: Sure There was a lot to be said in favor of porn. Over the past seven years it helped him relax, relieved his stress and allowed him to sublimate his true desires. To get full measure of its benefits, however, he needed to put some of his memories of the good stuff that porn could not provide into storage. Deep storage. In the recesses of his mind. And he did. Stored, Padlocked. Forgot where he put the key. It took just twenty-four hours for repressed memories of *good stuff* to come flooding back--ripping off the padlock with its force and opening the door to his storage compartment forever. Twenty-four hours to remember that which could never be found in a plastic cartridge filled with images of plastic people. He had missed first-time sexual marathons. He had missed only leaving his apartment long enough to go to her place to pick up a few "essentials" so they could continue their weekend uninterrupted. And he had missed the thrill of discovery on finding out that one of those essentials was a short, deep blue satin nightgown with matching panties. But most of all, he had missed a woman--his woman--slipping into bed and kissing him senseless. "Mulder," she said, moving her lips to the side of his mouth, "you don't have any underwear on." "No, I don't," he said, squeezing the leg between his thighs that had jostled the sheets and made the discovery. "Well, that's a little presumptuous, don't you think?" she asked. He stopped in his attempt to align their lips and looked into her eyes. "Let's see. You're in my bed kissing me. Your leg has insinuated itself between mine. You're wearing this incredible outfit that I have never seen you in before instead of the ugly p.j.s with feet you usually sleep in." "They do not have feet!" "Well, sorry. I was always on nipple alert and never looked past your chest while you were wearing them. Anyway, back to my presumptions. You're in this sexy thing that I like very, very much, by the way," he squeezed her behind through the blue satin, "and generally making me a pretty damned happy guy. So, like any good scout, I'm ready. In fact, I'll be ready from now on. I'm giving up underwear. It's commando from here on out." "Don't you dare." "Why not?" he asked, lifting her lightly by the hips while trying to press her against his groin. "I don't want everyone knowing your secrets." "You never learned to share, did you? "No, I never did. Speaking of secrets ... " he saw a gleam in her eye as she moved away from his grasping hands and welcoming hips, "lay back." On her face was an expression he had never seen before. Cool, calm ... predatory. "Scully, you don't have to." "Don't be silly," she said, pushing him down against the pillows. "I *want* to. I would have before but there hasn't been the need for much foreplay." He gave a quick glance toward his feet and found his view somewhat obstructed. "There's not much of a need now, either." "Well, then, maybe it's time to make *this* the main event." "Scully, you don't have ... " "You said that already. Now, close your eyes and relax." Like hell he would. He watched the redhead of his dreams settle herself between his legs and felt a soft, tentative kiss. This would *not* be easy. "I used to think about this at work sometimes," he said. He felt her smile around him. *Her.* Smiling. Around *him.* Little (or not so little) him. It was too much. Too much of everything. He needed to focus on something other than what was actually happening before he embarrassed himself in any of the myriad of ways that had been discovered since the dawn of man. Or in one he'd discover himself. He excelled at that type of thing. He needed to focus, all right, and the only way he could think to do so was to keep talking. "I know I gave it a passing thought sometime during our first case but definitely by the second case it was bordering on full-fledged fantasy. At that meeting we had reevaluating the X-file budget? You know, the one where ... um, what's his name ... was trying to tell us that we didn't need the additional $1.99 we were asking for. Well, I ... while he was launching into his diatribe ... oh, God." He closed his eyes for a moment. Too much. He would either weep with joy or scream like a banshee. Both of which he did not want to do during his first time with Scully. He wanted a graceful climax."Um, where was I? Yes, while he was launching ... I remember looking ... across the table and you had on this lipstick ... made your lips all wet and shiny. They were so sexy and soft--looked soft--and I just could picture ... Skinner caught me. He caught my eye and frowned. He knew all right." "Skinner?" she muttered. His eyes flew open. "God, don't stop. Please ... yes, Skinner. Probably didn't want me stealing his best wet dream warm-up material." "Silly Mulder," she said, barely lifting her lips. "Scully ... oh, yeah. Oh, yeah. Um ... Skinner's had the hots for you for ages. You *had* to know that." "Mulder," she mumbled a warning. "Don't stop." "Well, then don't talk about our boss while I'm ... " "No, I won't. Oh, that's sooooo good. So good, Scully." "Scully, you've got to stop. Now, Scully. Oh, God. I'm going to ... " He let out a strangled little cry as his body jerked and he found his release. " ... come," he finished before collapsing against the pillows. He felt the bed dip and level as she left, then heard the sounds of running water in the bathroom. He could hear her opening up medicine cabinets and rummaging through drawers she wasn't entirely familiar with even though she had been here countless times. He should get up to help but his eyelids and limbs felt as if they weighed a thousand pounds. He was more than half-asleep. Adrift in a warm, safe place when he felt a wet wash cloth against his groin. He smiled. She was way too good to him. A few seconds later, she slipped in next to him. A warm, minty kiss landed softly on his lips. She found the Scope. Good. He hadn't been able to locate it in weeks and the Listerine simply would have been way too medicinal for a moment like this. "Are you asleep?" she whispered against his mouth. "No, no. Just drifting. I'll be up in a minute." A small sound that almost resembled a giggle escaped from Scully's mouth. "You are a believer in *very* extreme possibilities, aren't you?" He smiled. "I just meant that I'd be awake and we could work on the recovery process together." "It's not necessary, Mulder. I'm not going anywhere. You can sleep. I just wanted to find out what all that yammering was about before. I didn't exactly have much of an opportunity to hold up my end of the conversation." "'S'okay. You're forgiven." "So, you're not very chatty during actual intercourse but oral sex inspires conversations about supervisors, bean counters and departmental budgets? Actually, maybe I'm beginning to believe in very extreme possibilities because I've never seen any man capable of speaking in full sentences under the same circumstances." "Well, I can't say that's my usual modus operandi, either. I usually just grunt or say something filthy." There was that giggle-like sound again. But Scully never giggled. "You could have done that. It would help me learn your likes and dislikes." "I liked all of it just fine, thank you." She leaned up against one elbow. "They call it a blow job for a reason, Mulder. It should be mind-blowing. Not just something you *like."* He dramatically laid back against the pillows with his arms outstretched. "Do you see what you've done to me? I'm completely spent. Mind-blown, body-blown, spirit-blown." Okay. That was a giggle. She *did* know how. He sat up on his elbows. "Scully? I made myself a promise that if I ever got you into bed, I wouldn't complain if we never had anything but no-frills missionary position sex for the rest of our lives. And we've already surpassed that goal. But ... you know, this stuff is not really reciprocal. I can't justify it in my mind as anything but me taking pleasure and you giving it. And that seemed like a greedy overload of good stuff coming my way all at once. And yet, I'm a guy. I'm not about to turn it down." "So, you think I was doing you some big favor and you were a heel for accepting?" "Well ... " "Mulder, where do you get these ideas?" "Past experience has shown ... " "No woman has ever just ripped your clothes off and went at you?" "Well, yeah. But that's different." "It's not. We've just been working and living under strange circumstances. That's the only reason I've had to keep a tight rein on my fantasies. " "You fantasized about this?" "Yes. Of course. It's you. Your body. I want all of you." "And I want all of you." "And you had it all," she said softly. "and I can understand what you're saying. It felt a bit odd accepting oral sex from you, too. But it's now something I've eagerly accepted into my life." "Well, I'll eagerly accept it into my life, too, once I get over the fear the sky falling flat on my head as payback." "The sky won't fall. But you have just issued a challenge." "I have?" "Yes, sooner or later, I'll reduce your extensive vocabulary to caveman grunts." She snuggled closer to him and he put his arm around her. She ran her fingers lightly through the fine hairs of his chest. "Mulder?" "Yes?" "You are aware that you've ruined all future budget meetings for me. I won't be able to do anything but smile through them from now on. Old what's-his-name will think I'm demented." "But I will know your secret. Me--only me," he said, feeling himself begin to drift away. "I told you sharing was highly overrated," she said. And a kiss on the soft skin covering his heart was the last sensation he felt before he fell asleep. The End Author's Notes: Yackety-yack (don't talk back) is a song by the Coasters--for the benefit of you young'uns out there. And this whole thing was inspired by my absolute conviction that Mulder is not all that used to intense happiness and would have to do a little angsting even when he should be leaping around and shouting "Score!" (Well, in his mind, anyway--it might be a bit odd if he did it right at that moment). Also, I know that a good many people may find Mulder's verbal abilities at a (cough) certain moment to be superhuman, but if Scully can diagnose herself before passing out from an alien-virus-filled honey bee bite, Mulder can speak in complete sentences while being ... pleasured. That, my friends, is a lesson learned from the mighty Chris Carter himself ... um, giving characters superhuman abilities not ... oh, nevermind.