Title: The Call by: Agent Diana Fowley Email: agtdianafowley@yahoo.com website: www.geocities.com/agtdianafowley/index.html Category: MSR, post episode, Scully POV Keywords: MSR Rating: NC17 Spoilers: This takes place following Per Manum. Anything up until then is fair game Summary: Mulder's having a little problem making his donation. The Call Agent Diana Fowley I pick up my phone on the second ring, "Mulder?" "Hey, Scully," his disembodied voice answers. "What's up?" I say as I sit up on my couch and pull my knees beneath me. "Nothing…," he responds sharply. There is silence on both ends until Mulder sighs. "Did everything go okay?" I ask in response to the sigh. When he doesn't answer I say, "Mulder, where are you?" "Still at the clinic," he says sounding a bit deflated. "Still?" I ask looking at my watch. He had been there over an hour. More silence. "Scully," he finally says. "When I said that nothing was up I meant…." "…nothing is up," I finish for him, then blush when I realize that we are having a conversation about Mulder's penis. I wait not knowing exactly how to respond. I'm a doctor right? I should reassure him that this happens to lots of men. I can hear his breathing and he seems to be waiting for me to say something. "Well…um…" I stammer. "What seems to be the problem." "Scully, please don't doctor me. I've had enough of medical professionals. The nurse keeps pestering me. I don't know how I'm supposed to…um…perform with them knocking on the door every five minutes." I try not to laugh but I can practically feel his frustration coming through the phone. "Okay, Mulder, really, what's the problem? I'm asking as a friend." "I don't know, Scully. I just can't!" he says in frustration. I become uncomfortable and shift on the couch. How is it possible that this conversation is turning me on? It's really been too long. "Don't they…um…have stuff there…..Inspirational stuff?" Good one. He actually does laugh at me, "You mean like those tapes that aren't mine?" I nod then realize that he can't hear my nod so I say, "Yeah, and magazines." "That's actually where I think my problem started," he begins and I sit back against the arm my couch. I am not going to have a porn conversation with Mr. Porn King. "How so?" I ask, not really knowing if I want to hear his response. "I don't know if I should be telling you this Scully." "Mulder, you're there, you're frustrated, because of me. Obviously you called me because you though it would help," I say and he makes choking sound on the other end of the line. I thought of lending Mulder a helping hand, so to speak, turns me on even more. I press my legs together to take the edge of the frustration I am feeling. "You have no idea," he says, his voice barley above a whisper. It sends a shiver down my spine when I realize it sounds like I just offered to have phone sex with him. That thought sends a thrill though my body. Phone sex with Mulder? Sex with Mulder? I almost groan but manage to contain it. Silence. I don't know how to respond to that so I decide to do what I usually do with his innuendoes, I ignore it, and my dirty thoughts and move on. "So, tell me Mulder, what about their choice in reading and viewing material is giving you a problem." "Do you really want to know?" When I don't say anything he continues, "Don't say I didn't warn you…..So, I am sitting in this small, white, sterile room getting ready to take matters into my own hands. I didn't figure it would be that hard, so to speak, but there is nothing…arousing about a room in a clinic. So, I decided to flip through the reading material. Then I start thinking about who else has also flipped through it and what they had been touching…" "Got it," I say, not really wanting to think about it but wanting to think about it all at the same time. "…so I decided that watching a video is probably safer." "Good call," I say, bringing my feet up onto the sofa and shifting down so my head is resting on the arm rest. "Thank you," he says. "Anyway, I am watching and nothing. So I try….other stuff… and still nothing. Then I start thinking about the porn stars." "I'm no ‘pro,' Mulder, but isn't that what you're supposed to do?" "The guy porn stars, Scully." I really have not response of this revelation. My body responds for me with a sick feeling in my stomach. What is he trying to say? "I see," is all I can spit out. "No, Scully, not like that….I was thinking about how hard…difficult their job must be. I mean, here I am, asked to give a command performance, for a really good cause, and I just can't. Their entire income is based on getting turned on, on command." "So, your inability to perform in this particular situation has dashed you dreams of becoming a porn star?" I venture, trying to lighten the mood of this very odd conversation. "I don't know? Maybe I just gained a new respect for the difficulties of their lives. I though, you know, they had it made; good paycheck, lots of sex with hot, horny, girls. Who knew that they had it so rough…hard…you know what I mean." "So, let me get this straight, you can't….perform….because you've been too busy seeing the males in the adult film industry in a new light?" "You said you wanted to hear it." "I did, I do, it's just….God, Mulder some of the things you come up with….You really never cease to amaze me," I say with a laugh. He laughs too. God, I love the sound of his laugh, "Well, Scully, at least I can give you something to laugh about if I can't give you anything else." As I listen to his laugh I slide my arm down my body, barely grazing my nipples. They are sharp little points pressing against my pink sweater. I have to bite my lips to keep from making any noise. I keep running my hands gently up and down my body, just grazing one nipple of the other on each pass, and listen to Mulder's breath in my ear. "Mulder," I finally say. "Why don't you just leave and go back tomorrow. Maybe today isn't your day." "I don't think I could handle the embarrassment of that. I feel like I've already embarrassed myself enough just by calling you and you still haven't come up with a solution to my problem." The solutions that pop into my mine cause me to groan but I think I successfully cover it up with a cough. I consider it for a minute, "So the problem here seems to be that you are feeling inadequate compared to the porn men?" "I guess. It's sounds pretty bad when you say it." "Hmm," I say as I consider. "Would knowing that your performance would lead to sex help?" I hear gasp at my response and I feel a flush rising to my face. Oh my god! What did I just say! "I…" he squeaks. "I guess…" he says, he voice at it's normal octave. "I just….I mean…I didn't mean that I would…" I stammer. I take a deep breath and slowly let it out. "What I was thinking is that in most cases, and correct me if I'm wrong, I'm not a pro after all, but in pornographic films, don't the men usually have sex with someone. I mean, in most cases, not matter what they start out doing….doesn't it usually end in them having sex?" I wait for him to respond but instead I hear a knock at the door and a muffled voice say, "Mr. Mulder? How are things progressing?" "Fine," I hear in a muffled voice, telling me that his hand is over the mouthpiece. "Better then five minutes ago." Oh god! Could this conversation be turning him on? Before I can stop myself my hand has strayed from my breasts and is pressing against the seam of my jeans. I buck my hips at the slightest contact. I can't believe I am touching myself while I am on the phone with Mulder, but it feels to good to stop. "You were saying?" I hear him say. "Umm…I don't know…" "Something about this leading to sex….in the movies." "Yeah…" I say, my mouth completely void of moisture, though I can feel that other areas are not, even through the denim of my jeans. "I was saying that maybe you problem has to do with the fact that your performance will not lead to sex but in ‘the movies' it usually does so you are not on equal footing with the actors so you shouldn't feel inadequate." It sounds like a good theory, right? "Then how do you explain the fact that I haven't had this problem before and I haven't had the prospect of sex in the last seven years or so." Is it just my over active hormones or was his voice deeper and sexier than usually? Why is the phrase ‘prospect of sex' stuck in a rut in my mind? Playing over and over again? What is wrong with me? I can't take it any more. I finally unbutton and unzip my jeans and slip my hand inside. I bite my lip to keep from moaning as my fingers find there way beneath my panties and zero in on my engorged clit. "I don't know…I guess we're back to the issue of pressure." We sure were. I was certainly feeling a lot of pressure and not of an all-together unpleasant variety. "Scully," he finally says, after a moment to consider my theory. "What are you wearing?" Holy shit! How can he kid around with me? Especially when we're this conversation. It's not like we were talking about flukemen or vampires or something equally distasteful. We were talking about sex and I know we were both thinking about us having sex. I can't hold back a groan. "Scully?" he gasps at hearing my groan. I don't know what to do so I hit the talk button and throw the phone to the other end of the couch. I also quickly remove my hand from my jeans and wipe the moisture on the leg of my pants. Why did I do that? It's not like I haven't though about having sex with Mulder before. Recently I've been thinking about it a lot. How do you think I came up with the idea of asking him to donate? I kept having this vision of him and I, hot and heavy, and then a picture of a little girl with brown hair and blue eyes would flash across my mind. At first I felt bad thinking about Mulder like that. Soon I realized that thinking about him was the fastest and most satisfying way to bring myself to release. If I think about him, I wonder if he ever thinks about me? Oh God! I think as I stare at the phone. Is that why he called me? Does he get as turned on listening to my voice as I do listening to his? Does he get as turned on thinking about me as I do thinking about him? I should call him back, I think as I will the phone to ring. What should I say? Should I apologize? I realize that my clit is still throbbing and I try to shift to gain some release. Then it hits me and I pick up the phone and dial that all too familiar number. "Scully I am so sorry!" is the first thing I hear when he answers the phone. "A soft, pale pink sweater and tight blue jeans," I say, barley keeping my voice steady. "Scully, I'm sorry, you don't have to. I don't know what…." "What are you wearing?" "I serious, Scully. It was wrong of me. I just….I don't know…" He wasn't going to make this easy, but what in our relationship ever is. "You right, Mulder. I don't have to do this. Did you ever consider that maybe I want to?" "You don't, Scully. I was just, you know, caught up in the conversation." "Did it help?" "Did what help?" he asked. "The conversation?" "I really don't think I should answer that, Scully," he warned and that was answer enough for me. I am going to get him through this and I sure as hell am going to enjoy it. "Do you want me, Mulder? Have you ever thought about me? Fantasized about me? It that why you called me?" I say as I resume my original position, reclined against the arm of my sofa, legs spread, fingers messaging my wetness into the hard nub of my clit. This time I don't even try to hold back a groan. He groans in response. "Scully, you really need to stop?" My hand is too restricted so I stand and pull off my jeans and panties. I get resettled and gasp when I can finally get my hand in the position I so desperately need it in, my thumb pressing against my clit as I pump my fingers inside of my dripping opening. "What if I don't want to stop, Mulder. What if I think about you to? What if I want to listen so I know what you sound like when you come?" "Shit, Scully! Shit! Shit! Shit!" "Something wrong, Mulder?" I say in my most innocent voice. I press harder and begin to pump my fingers faster. He gives a nervous laugh, "Who are you and what have you done with my partner?" "I'm right here, Mulder. Do you want me to keep talking?" "God, yes, Scully but first I have to know one thing…" he says, his voice strained. "Anything?" "Now that my command performance is well underway, how are my prospects looking for the future?" "How soon can you be done?" I ask. He groans and I shift my hips so my fingers are penetrating me at a better angle. "I don't think my answer will give you an ringing endorsement of my true capabilities," he warns. I laugh. "If you get here soon, I think your prospects look pretty good." "I knew calling you would help," he says and I hang up the phone and look at my clock. If he's quick he should be here in 30 minutes. I think what he would do if he found me here like this, sprawled on my couch, hands buried between my legs, face flushed in arousal. I press harder on my clit and finally send myself over the edge. I lay there for a minute and regulate my breathing. I pull my sweater over my head and unhook my bra. I press my flushed face against the cool fabric of the sofa and see my jeans and panties lying on the floor. This gives me a wicked idea. I pick up the phone and dial Mulder's number. "This better be good, Scully," he says. His breaths are coming in pants. It sounds like he's close but not quite over the edge. "Just a flush and a smile, Mulder. That's all I'm wearing." He groans and I hear a thud as his phone lands on the floor. Then I hear the longer moan and heavy breathing of his orgasm. I hang up the phone and head for my bedroom. I hope he has enough sense to let himself in, cause I certainly can't answer the door wearing this. ******** "Shit!" I swear as I toss the magazine across the room. "Shit! Shit! Fuck! Shit!" I say under my breath as I brush my hand over my still flaccid penis. I've been here almost and hour and nothing. I can't believe this. I can't fucking believe this! Nothing is helping. The only thought that has made anything stir since I've been here is thinking about how much this means to Scully. Actually it wasn't that thought that helped. It was the thoughts that that one degenerated into that got my blood flowing. I had to stop myself though. I couldn't do it. I have to stop thinking about Scully when I spank my monkey. I don't know what to do. I want to call Scully. I really need to hear her voice but I know that would lead to bad things. Maybe she'll have a solution. Maybe she'll talk you through it. Stop! I can't do this! I can't use Scully like that. I have to find a why to train my special agent without Scully. I sit for another few minutes and then give up. She a doctor right? Maybe she'll be able to help. I will not touch myself while I talk to her. That's what I swear to myself as my thumb scrolls to her number and hits send. She picks up the phone on the second ring, "Mulder?" God, the sound of her voice is starting to turn me on. "Hey, Scully," I say, trying to sound casual. "What's up?" she says and I can hear her shifting around. "Nothing…," I say in frustration at the truth of that statement. She doesn't respond and I sigh when I realize how snappy I must have sounded. "Did everything go okay?" she asks before I can apologize for snapping at her. I debate whether or not to come clean with her. Before I can speak, she says, "Mulder, where are you?" "Still at the clinic," I say. "Still?" I don't answer as I strengthen my resolve to tell her a complete and totally failure I am. How could she possibly want her child to have the genetic makeup of a man who can't even run a one-legged race. "Scully," I finally say. "When I said that nothing was up I meant…." "…nothing is up," she finishes for me. I am so embarrassed. This is definitely the first time Scully and I have ever had a conversation about my special agent. I wonder if this conversation is bothering her as much as it is me. I don't know what to say so I wait for her to speak. "Well…um…" she stammers. I'm glad I'm not the only one who is uncomfortable "What seems to be the problem." "Scully, please don't doctor me. I've had enough of medical professionals. The nurse keeps pestering me. I don't know how I'm supposed to…um…perform with them knocking on the door every five minutes," I tell her, going directly against the logic I used to convince myself to call her. I was supposed to be calling a doctor not using Scully to get off. She makes a funny sound and I have this sinking feeling that she is trying not to laugh at me. This completely undoes all the good the phone-sex-operator quality of her voice had done. "Okay, Mulder, really, what's the problem? I'm asking as a friend." I don't know what to say. "I don't know, Scully. I just can't!" I finally say in embarrassment. "Don't they…um…have stuff there…..Inspirational stuff?" God. I don't think I can have this conversation with Scully. Although her mentioning porn made my mind wander to the idea Scully watching porn. I decide that she would probably over analysis it and insist that the positions are only beneficial to men or something equally absurd. I can't help but laugh. "You mean like those tapes that aren't mine?" I say. She's quite for a moment then I hear her say, "Yeah, and magazines." I realize that the turn this conversation has taken may actually be helping. I settle back into the chair they provided and decide to fess up, "That's actually where I think my problem started." "How so?" she asks hesitantly. I can tell she's unsure whether or not she really wants to get into this. "I don't know if I should be telling you this Scully," I say in an attempt to giver her an out. "Mulder, you're there, you're frustrated, because of me. Obviously you called me because you though it would help," she says. I practically choke at the implications of this. Does she know that the sound of her voice turns me on? Does she know that practically everything she does turns me on? I feel the blood rushing to my groin at the though of punching my munchkin while on the phone with her. "You have no idea," I say, my voice barley above a whisper. Silence. I wait to see how she will respond. I am disappointed, but not enough to have a negative effect on my nether regions, when in true Scully fashion she decides to ignore my last comment and says, "So, tell me Mulder, what about their choice in reading and viewing material is giving you a problem." "Do you really want to know?" I ask. When she doesn't respond I continue, "Don't say I didn't warn you…..So, I am sitting in this small, white, sterile room getting ready to take matters into my own hands. I didn't figure it would be that hard, so to speak, but there is nothing…arousing about a room in a clinic. So, I decided to flip through the reading material. Then I start thinking about who else has also flipped through it and what they had been touching…" "Got it," she says and I have to smile "…so I decided that watching a video is probably safer." "Good call," she says and I can hear her shifting around. I wonder where she is. In her bed? On her couch? "Thank you," I say. "Anyway, I am watching and nothing. So I try….other stuff… and still nothing. Then I start thinking about the porn stars." "I'm no ‘pro,' Mulder, but isn't that what you're supposed to do?" "The guy porn stars, Scully." "I see," she says. I realize what that must sound like and amend, "No, Scully, not like that….I was thinking about how hard…difficult their job must be. I mean, here I am, asked to give a command performance, for a really good cause, and I just can't. Their entire income is based on getting turned on, on command." "So, your inability to perform in this particular situation has dashed you dreams of becoming a porn star?" she says. "I don't know. Maybe I just gained a new respect for the difficulties of their lives. I thought, you know, they had it made; good paycheck, lots of sex with hot, horny, girls. Who knew that they had it so rough…hard…you know what I mean." "So, let me get this straight, you can't….perform….because you've been too busy seeing the males in the adult film industry in a new light?" "You said you wanted to hear it." "I did, I do, it's just….God, Mulder some of the things you come up with….You really never cease to amaze me," she says with a laugh. Does she have any idea what the sound of her laugh does to me. It shoots this quake through my body and directly to my cock, which has but this point defiantly decided to join the party. I let fingers run across my hard penis through the fabric of my pants. I figure it's okay as long as I don't actually stroke. I have to laugh as how quickly my good intentioned phone call is becoming a means to an end. Then I say, "Well, Scully, at least I can give you something to laugh about if I can't give you anything else." I keep running my hands gently over my cock, and listen to Scully's breath in my ear. "Mulder," she finally says. "Why don't you just leave and go back tomorrow. Maybe today isn't your day." God, if she only know how quickly today was becoming my day, "I don't think I could handle the embarrassment of that. I feel like I've already embarrassed myself enough just by calling you and you still haven't come up with a solution to my problem." She makes this groan/cough noise into the phone and I can't help but wrap my fingers around my ridged flesh trough the material of my pants. Then she says, "So the problem here seems to be that you are feeling inadequate compared to the porn men?" "I guess. It's sounds pretty bad when you say it," I have to admit as I stroke myself through the material of my pants. I'm not supposed to be doing that. "Hmm," she says, as she seems to consider my situation. "Would knowing that your performance would lead to sex help?" I gasp as I increase the pace and pressure of my strokes. Okaaay. It damn well would help if I knew my performance would lead to sex, especially with the woman I am talking to. "I…" I squeak. How old am I? Thanks voice. "I guess…" I say, thankfully at my normal octave. "I just….I mean…I didn't mean that I would…" she stammers. I hear her take a deep breath and slowly let it out before she continues. "What I was thinking is that in most cases, and correct me if I'm wrong, I'm not a pro after all, but in pornographic films, don't the men usually have sex with someone. I mean, in most cases, not matter what they start out doing….doesn't it usually end in them having sex?" Having sex? All I can think about is having sex. Thing are going really well, or not well, depending on your point of view. This conversation needs to end. I try to find a way to get her off the phone so I can finish properly when I hear a knock at the door. Damn! "Mr. Mulder? How are things progressing?" the nurse yells. "Fine," I say. Then I cover the mouthpiece to prevent Scully from hearing the rest, "Better then five minutes ago." "Good to hear," she says and I hear her footsteps heading away from the door. "You were saying?" I say. "Umm…I don't know…" "Something about this leading to sex….in the movies." "Yeah…" she says in a shaky voice. "I was saying that maybe your problem has to do with the fact that your performance will not lead to sex but in ‘the movies' it usually does so you are not on equal footing with the actors so you shouldn't feel inadequate." "Then how do you explain the fact that I haven't had this problem before and I haven't had the prospect of sex in the last seven years or so," I say in a low voice so she'll know I'm teasing. She doesn't respond but I hear her moving around. Then I hear what sounds like a zipper. What's going on? There is no way that Scully just unzipped her pants. There is no way. She must have a jacket on or something. She must have been warm. Oh God! Then I hear her say, "I don't know…I guess we're back to the issue of pressure." We sure are. I am feeling so much pressure. Especially since the zipper sound made my mind develop two scenarios. Either she unzipped her pants because of this conversation with me, which means that she is probably touching herself right now, or she took off a jacket because she was getting warm due to the fact that this conversation is turning her on. I know there has to be other reasons but my brain just can't find them. My brain also can't stop my hand from undoing my pants and slipping inside. My brain can't stop my hand from sliding along the length of my cock. What is she doing! I have to know! "Scully," I finally say. "What are you wearing?" Her answer is a groan. "Scully?" I gasp at hearing her groan. Her response is a click as she disconnects the phone. Why did I do that? How could I ask her that! I am such an idiot. I was just thinking of myself, well myself having sex with Scully, or Scully having sex with herself. I think I've just proven that sex really does make people stupid. Should I call her back and apologize? It's not like I can go over there in this condition I say as I pull my hand away from my throbbing cock. I should call her. I should do something. I stare at my phone while I ponder my alternatives. Just as I get ready to dial her number it rings and I nearly drop it. "Scully I am so sorry!" I say as soon as I answer. "A soft, pale pink sweater and tight blue jeans," she says in a low, seductive voice. My hand immediately returns to my cock and I swallow hard to hide a moan. I can not do this. We have to stop. I have to apologize. "Scully, I'm sorry, you don't have to. I don't know what…." "What are you wearing?" she insists but I can't, I just can't let her do this for me, especially if she doesn't want to. "I serious, Scully. It was wrong of me. I just….I don't know…" I insist. "You're right, Mulder. I don't have to do this. Did you ever consider that maybe I want to?" She doesn't! Oh God, she couldn't want to do this, not with me. "You don't, Scully. I was just, you know, caught up in the conversation." "Did it help?" she asks. "Did what help?" I ask, knowing full well what she is talking about. "The conversation?" "I really don't think I should answer that, Scully," I warn. I really need to hang up, finish up, get to her apartment and apologize in person. "Do you want me, Mulder? Have you ever thought about me? Fantasized about me? It that why you called me?" she says. I feel like I'm going to faint. I can't believe she wants to do this. How could she ask me those questions? How can she not know the answers? Yes, Scully, I want to shout. Yes, I want you! Yes, I think about you all the time. In fact you are the last thing I think about before I go to bed and the first thing I think about when I wake up. Yes, I have fantasized about you in every way shape and form! Why do you think I watch those movies? I pretend that those actors are us. Yes! I called you because I need your help. Deep down I knew that hearing your voice, having you with me would be all I needed to get in the mood to pet my dolphin. Then she moans, she fucking moans right in my ear. She must be touching herself. I can't breath. I pant, trying to regain my breath as my fingers wrap around my throbbing penis. Autoerotic asphyxiation? Clyde you may have been right on, I think as I try to take a full breath. I start pumping fast and answer Scully with a groan of my own. "Scully, you really need to stop!" "What if I don't want to stop, Mulder. What if I think about you to? What if I want to listen so I know what you sound like when you come?" "Shit, Scully! Shit! Shit! Shit!" I practically yell as I frantically search for that damn cup. She needs to stop or I really will have to come back tomorrow and I don't want to explain how I missed. "Something wrong, Mulder?" she says in her most innocent voice. I give a nervous laugh, "Who are you and what have you done with my partner?" "I'm right here, Mulder. Do you want me to keep talking?" "God, yes, Scully but first I have to know one thing…" I say. I know I am stupid to ask but I need to know. I need to know if this is a one time thing or if we are finally crossing that line. "Anything?" she whispers and I know she means it. "Now that my command performance is well underway, how are my prospects looking for the future?" "How soon can you be done?" she asks immediately, without hesitation. I groan at the thought that she could possible want me as much as I want her. "I don't think my answer will give you an ringing endorsement of my true capabilities," I warn. She laughs. "If you get here soon, I think your prospects look pretty good." "I knew calling you would help," I say, relief washing over my body. Then I hang up the phone. Almost there, I think as I continue to stroke. I can feel my balls tight against my body. I am starting to feel the beginning tingle of orgasm in the base of my spine. I frantically feel for the cup. I am so close. God, I am so close. I am going to come so hard, all because of Scully. I groan again at the thought of her. What is she doing now? Is she still touching herself? Will she wait for me to finish? Somehow I doubt it, especially if she is half as worked up as me. Then it really sinks in, Scully and I are going to have sex tonight. I am going to have sex with Scully. The tingle starts to spread and I can't keep my hips from bucking into my hand. I am almost there when my phone rings. I try to slow my motions as I say, "This better be good, Scully." "Just a flush and a smile, Mulder. That's all I'm wearing." I groan and drop the phone. Then, in one stroke I'm coming and coming and coming. Luckily I have the presence of mind to hit the cup. I quickly clean myself up, turn my sample in, and hop in the car. I can't wipe the smile off my face as I turn my car towards Scully's apartment. The End. You all know what happens next anyway.