[last repost] Heat 4/4I apologize for the reposts; I've been trying to get this to come up on "search" for people who have been looking for it. This should take care of the problem; updated recommendations are *always* welcome!!!! TITLE: Heat (4/4) AUTHOR: Abra Elliott CLASSIFICATION: MSR; Mulder POV, Scully POV SPOILERS: none, really DESCRIPTION: well, I couldn't just leave them hanging, now could I? RATING: NC-17 (KIDDIES, KEEP AWAY PLEASE!!!) DISCLAIMER: still not mine, still poor. And really tired. FEEDBACK: accepted with humble gratitude at xilerui@hotmail.com. NOTES: Thanks for coming all the way with me! I'm sorry it took so long to finish; paper season was followed by an extended writer's block, where I couldn't figure out how to end this to my satisfaction. I hope that this does the rest of the story justice. Mulder seems to join Scully in present-tense land partway through; it may be sloppy writing, but I kind of like it. Re-reading this, I think I owe a slight debt of inspiration to Kristel Oxley-Johns' "Aphrodisia" series, which I've been enjoying immensely. Thanks for the intriguing and complex vision of M & S that you've created! Any and all feedback/recommendations are welcome! *** HIDEY-HO MOTOR LODGE SOMEWHERE IN IDAHO FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER But first I had to have a drink. It was probably the oddest little nowhere motel I had ever stayed in. Old, cheap, and sleazy in so many ways, and yet it had the most well-stocked mini-fridge I'd ever seen in my many travels. Of course, I'd seen the town earlier in the day; if I had to live here, I think booze might be one of my main staples, too. I pulled a couple of little bottles of scotch out, grabbed one of the flimsy plastic glasses, watered down the scotch a little less than usual (I think I sort-of splashed water in the general direction of the cup), and downed it in one gulp. One more time. There. Now I felt better. Or, at least, my hands had stopped sweating and I figured I could *probably* talk without my voice quivering too noticeably. This was important if I was going to pull off what I had planned. Although, honestly, I didn't think I had an ice cube's chance in hell of doing it; I figured Scully would answer, recognize my voice, assume I was calling about the case, and we'd be back at square one. Never-ending frustration 1, Resolution 0. I sat on the rickety bed and turned out the light. Peeking under the dividing door, I saw that Scully had also turned out her light; great, I was probably going to wake her up, too, so that when she heard my voice, knew it was me, and assumed I was calling about the case, she'd be pissed. Chalk up another point for Frustration. *Just do it* In fact, it didn't take much persuading. The scotch, far from erasing my earlier arousal, had actually stoked the fire, and all I could see in the dark was the image of Scully, pleasuring herself in the dingy shower next door. It made me hungry for more, fueling my less-than-prudent actions. Swallowing, I picked up the receiver of the motel room phone and dialed her cell phone. I don't think my fingers shook *too* much. I came close to hanging up when I heard her phone begin to ring in the room next door. My heart pounded in my chest as it rang once, twice...and I swallowed again as I heard the familiar electronic *beep* of the phone being picked up. "H-hello?" I could hear Scully's voice both in the receiver and echoing softly from the next room. This wasn't the woman who was piercing clarity and determination during the day; she was hesitant, and I took heart. Closing my eyes, I took a quick swig of my third drink and opened my mouth to speak. *** Once, when I was a girl, my class was called into chapel. I hated chapel; usually a lot of talk about rules and propriety, with a bit of "Kumbayah" on the side...but this day was different. Sister Katherine, who taught science, was standing at the front of the small room holding a large beaker filled with a clear blue liquid, covering the opening with her other hand. She stood tall and silent until we grew quiet, and then spoke to us in her soft voice. "Today, instead of our usual chapel service, I wanted to share something special with you all. I was mixing chemicals in lab earlier and came upon the most wonderful concoction. Can anyone guess what it might be?" We threw out ideas. Most were of the usual junior high variety: toilet-bowl cleaner, blue pee, and so on. Sister Katherine, the *cool* nun, listened, laughing, before she said, "Well, why don't I just show you. Now, watch out; this is strong stuff. When I take my hand off the top of this beaker, the most amazing odor is going to fill this room." We leaned forward eagerly. I was sitting in one of the back pews, chatting with my friends about what the solution might be; in junior high, you still care about what your teachers might want to impress you with. Sister Katherine removed her hand, and confused cries arose from the front of the room. A voice called out "peppermint!" and kids in back rows leaned forward a little further, noses in the air, hoping to catch a whiff. I was no exception; I leaned forward, sniffing the cool air with all my might until, finally, I caught the *lightest* scent of peppermint. I smelled it; it was real, and it began to fill the room. Capping the beaker, Sister Katherine set it down on a table behind her; when she turned back to face us, her expression was serious. "Can you tell me what it was?" she asked, and voices in the front called out, "Peppermint!" She shook her head. "This is water with blue food coloring. Your minds only thought it was peppermint, because your friends told you it was." The lesson I took away was probably not the one she had intended. Sister Katherine was worried about our impressionable minds and how secular soociety might lead us astray. *I* marveled at how powerful the human mind was, how it could create reality from nothing, how it could play tricks on us, teasing us with our hopes and desires. Which is a roundabout way of explaining why I hear what I hear when I answer my cell phone, chirping away in the darkness. "H-hello," I answer. I'm suddenly reminded that my phone number has been floating around in cyberspace for the past few hours, and I experience more than a little apprehension. A deliciously low, dangerously soft voice murmurs, "G-woman. It's me." It's Apollo...but the voice that fills my ears is Mulder's. My hunger for him has conjured his electronic doppelganger, and I feel myself instantly growing wet again. I close my eyes, and, in a low voice, I reply, "Hello." *** I came to the point. "What are you wearing right now?" No explanations, no apologies. I had to be in control here...I needed to assert my intentions from the start, or I knew she'd never go along with me. At first she didn't answer. In my mind, I saw her weighing her options. When the silence lingered between us for just a beat too long, I assumed she'd hang up, and that I'd be left here in the dark, dick in hand, waiting for the morning sun to burn my tortured love to a crisp. Instead, she whispered huskily, "Nothing." "Liar. Try it again, and make sure you tell the truth this time." Actually, I had no idea if she was telling the truth or not; the desire to dominate her simply overpowered me. I wanted to see how far this new Scully would go with her invisible lover...we'd played such games online, but this was entirely different. She paused, and I could picture her considering her next move. My heart pounded in the darkness; I licked my parched lips, swallowing my nervousness as I waited for her. "Pajamas," she murmured penitently. "That's better. Tell me what kind..." My hand crept to my growing cock as I imagined her laying back in her bed next door. "S-silk. Buttoned top...long sleeves...baby blue..." Her voice had grown deeper, softer. I pictured her whispering into her small phone, her pink lips barely brushing against it...and I felt my cock twitch in response to the vision. "Unbutton the top...I want you to touch your..." I swallowed hard- "breasts...tell me how they look and feel..." She hesitated. "I-" "Do it." *** I don't even know this man...this phantom...and here I am, unbuttoning my pajama blouse...sliding my free hand inside and caressing my nipples with my fingers. "Talk to me." *His* voice...and I obey. "T-they're...my breasts are soft...my nipples..." I can hear him breathing on the other end of the phone...softly edgy sighs...as he listens to me. I see Mulder in my mind's eye, laying back on his bed, cock in hand, slowly stroking himself, and a sigh of my own issues, uninvited, from my swelling lips. "Go on..." Apollo's voice is somewhere between a plea and a command. "My nipples...are hard...aching..." He pauses briefly; I close my eyes in this moment and now Mulder is in the dark with me, his slender fingers sliding over my breasts, cupping them...gently tweaking my nipples. My hand becomes his, and I tease them... "Take off your top. Play with your nipples...tell me how it feels..." he whispers in a low growl. I slide the soft silk off my shoulders, tossing it aside as I lay back on the bed, my fingers pinching...kneading... *** My eyes are closed and all I see is Scully, her flaming hair spread on the pillow, her small hand dancing over her beautiful pale pink nipples. I feel myself stiffen as I listen for her voice, aching to hear her pleasure. "They...my nipples are sensitive...touching them...feels good everywhere on my body..." I lick my lips and whisper hoarsely, "Good. Pinch them for me..." "Yesssss"...a soft Scully sigh, and I find myself stroking my own nipples lightly, aching to nibble on hers until her cries fill my ears. "Take off those pajama bottoms...are you wearing panties?" A pause. Then she replies softly, "Yes...they're wet...dripping...for you..." Oh god. My thumb slides over the engorged head of my hard cock as I imagine sliding her panties down her slender legs, then burying my tongue in her hot, steamy pussy. "Take them off, NOW," I growl. I hear the crisp sheets crinkle through the phone as she removes her panties, and I know I have to be closer. Picking up the phone, I stand and walk to the dividing door. Resting the phone on the floor, I lean with my back against it, stroking my throbbing cock. "They're off..." she whispers, and I hear a low purr in her voice. Oh Scully... *** I lie there naked on top of the sheets, the fingers of my free hand tentatively slipping through the curly hair covering my clit. I can feel myself growing wetter and wetter as I listen to Apollo's commands...little drops of my pleasure sprinkled over my soft folds. "You're wet," he tells me, and the assurance in his voice makes me tingle. "Yes..." "Touch your pussy lips...tell me how they feel..." My hand explores. "Soft...silky..." His breath turns ragged. "Slide a finger deep inside your pussy..." he whispers. Still Mulder's voice, the one I've imagined in my late-night fantasies. I ache for this voice to belong to him and abandon myself further to my hallucination. "Yes..." I reply as one finger slips inside my fevered pussy. My hips begin to rock as I imagine Mulder pleasuring me...I whimper softly and Apollo seems to match my breaths with his own soft panting. We continue this way for several moments, each lost in our own imaginations. His quickening sighs goad me on, and I hear myself vocalizing my pleasure...secretly hoping that Mulder, ensconced in the next room, will hear my mounting cries. *** God, I can't take this...Scully's voice, softly crying out in delicious pleasure, fills my ears. I hear her on the tinny phone, richly vibrant through the thin door separating us, and all I want to do is take her, make her mine. My voice quivering uncontrollably, I manage to groan, "Touch your clit...make yourself cum for me..." "Yesss...yesss..." Her soft cries increase, fueling my own fire as I grip and stroke my cock. My balls begin to tighten, and I hear myself begging Scully, "Give me my name...call out my name..." Panting, Scully whispers, "I don't know your name..." Another soft gasp punctuates her confusion. I growl, needing her. "You know my name...call to me and I'll come..." My own groans grow louder. I don't care if she hears anymore...I need to feel her small, soft legs wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer, deeper. She begins to moan...her release so close. I'm wild with desire and my moans match hers. "Mmmmmmmm..." *** I can't stop it...I can't hold it back...I want him, only him... "Mmmmm...Mulder..." I groan. The disembodied voice on the other end of the line pleads with me. "Yes, that's it...call to me, call to me, Scully..." I'm too far gone to know if this is dream or reality. My aching pussy grips my small finger as waves of delirious ecstasy begin to wash over me. My back arches...gasping, I cry out my desire. "Mulderrrr!!!" Somewhere I hear his voice, groaning, panting, calling to me. "Oh god...S-Scullyyyy...Scullyscullyscully..." We are each lost in our own delirium. Long moments pass before my senses return. I lie on the bed trying to catch my breath, and it's then that I realize what I've been crying out. A knock comes on the dividing door. I freeze and, in a moment of panic, unthinkingly switch my phone off. Another knock, and my heart catches. "Scully." Mulder's voice. I imagine it accusing me, his glance grim and unforgiving. Have I breached our trust? The passion in my cries was unmistakable. I remain silent, but tiptoe to the door, leaning close to hear him. "Scully," he calls again, softly. His next dusky syllables fall on incredulous ears. "I told you...if you called me, I would come." I swallow and reach for my pajama top. Wrapping it around me, I slowly unlock the dividing door. Mulder is there. His hair has fallen, tousled, into his eyes. His lips...those luscious lips...are red and swollen. His cock...soft now, but showing signs of re-awakening. But what I see are his eyes. At once shy and bold, seeking out mine in desperate need, in longing love. My breath catches, and I realize I am returning his gaze in full measure. I step closer, and his body weaves so slightly. I slip my arms around his waist, and rest my head on his chest. I've done this so many times before, but only now do I feel myself relenting to his embrace. His arms hold me, his lips kissing my hair as he whispers my name over and over, softly caressing me with his voice. I look up at him and my gaze is sorrowful. "Mulder...I'm so sorry...I didn't know..." He places a single finger over my contrite lips, smiling softly as he silences me. "Hush. You do now. We both do." We stand there together in the dark, the doorway framing us. Then he draws me inside his room and closes the door behind us. *finis*