Title: In the Car
Author: Adrienne 
Rating: NC-17 
Spoilers: small Dreamland spoiler
Classification: VRA Mulder/Scully, Mulder POV 
Keywords: Mulder/Scully, VRA
Summary: Mulder and Scully find themselves in the car.
Author's Notes: This story is dedicated to Gillian
Anderson, because I wrote it on her birthday.  This
story is the first in a kind of series I've
written--sequels are In My Room and In a Nutshell.
Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully belong to Chris Carter,
1013, Fox, etc. Ford Tauruses are a registered
trademark of the Ford Company. The lyrics in the
beginning are property of Barenaked Ladies.
http://petpede.tripod.com

****************************************

"We were looking for ourselves 
and found each other
In the car 
It was rare to do much more
than simply mess around 
In the car 
It was mostly mutual masturbation"
- Barenaked Ladies, In the Car

****************************************

We're in the car.

When you start off at the FBI, they tell you about the
dull monotony of hours of paperwork. They tell you of
the peeon duties you'll inherit as a new agent but
also of the mounting benefits of climbing the ladder
of federal bureaucracy and kissing a few asses on the
way to the top. 

But they don't tell you about the driving.

Insignificant as it may seem, the driving is what will
piss you off more than anything. Sometimes it's an
hour, sometimes three, sometimes six. Hell, there have
been times where we've driven two fucking days across
country for lack of a better transportation option.
You're not going to read that in the job requirements.

It gets frustrating and tiring, especially when you've
got a partner who loves to nap and you can never build
the nerve to wake her up. Scully always looks so
peaceful when she sleeps, and I'd rather have her eyes
closed while I'm casting glances at her rather than
have her asking what the hell I'm doing staring at her
all the time.

So I drive. And when she's not talking, she's
sleeping. 

As a person that can never get comfortable in a car
seat I'm amazed at how this woman can curl up and
sleep just about anywhere. I guess it's because I
usually have my legs cramping up from not having
enough room, but she can just stretch out and relax.
There are a lot of things about Scully that amaze me,
though.

I guess her body comes to mind.

She's gotten in the habit of wearing these nice
fitting little black g-woman suits now. None of that
baggy tan stuff she used to wear; no loose blouses
sporting 147 stars that reminded me of a cheap 70's
B-movie. Just black. And white. And the occasional
tight, low-cut colored t-shirt that reminds me to wipe
the drool off of my chin before she notices. She was
good-looking then, but she's definitely got something
going on now.

So on this long stretch of lonely highway, I let my
eyes wander over to my dormant partner, looking at her
face first to make sure she's out cold before I lower
my gaze to her lightly rising chest. Her face is
tilted toward me, resting against her left shoulder,
lips parted slightly. 

I do my careful survey in glances, eyes flickering to
the road, then back to her. Her suit is stretched
tightly over her breasts, hugging the soft, gentle
curves. My hands ache to touch them every time I look
at her like this, and I clutch the wheel a little
tighter to inhibit myself. I'm also willing myself not
to let my mind undress her, but the more I think about
it, of course, the harder I can feel myself getting. I
 *hate* that. An overactive libido can be both a
blessing and a detriment. In the car, with Scully, the
latter is most often the case.

I silently send my curses downward before a soft sigh
coming from the passenger seat distracts me. Okay, it
wasn't the seat, it was Scully. Sometimes it just pays
to get technical about these things. I feel myself
smile a little, wondering what she's dreaming about,
feeling the soft prodding of hope that it's me. My
gaze travels down her flat tummy, and my dick, of
course, is really enjoying the tour now. My eyes dart
back to the road for a fleeting moment before assuming
their position on Scully's lower stomach once again. I
wonder if she's sensitive there; I wonder if she would
gasp if I kissed it. 

What I am surprised to see, when my eyes are lower, is
that her right hand is not flung against the door or
on the seat or even across her stomach. No, Scully's
hand is somewhere a little more intimate than usual
for this setting. I can see it clearly in the
moonlight, the white skin a contrast against the dark
fabric of her pants. 

Even in the shadows that are cast between her thighs,
I can see the movement of her fingers.

And I, I am suddenly a pool of electrified goo. I turn
my head sharply toward the windshield, gulping softly,
a tingle running from one head to the other.


She's sleeping. I'm sure of that. And obviously she
doesn't know what she's doing.


*People do that a lot in their sleep*, I think to
myself, rationalizing. *Hell, I do it all the time.*

But not in the car.

I am really disliking these pants right now. They were
loose before, I wear them loose, not for this reason
but it's as good as any as far as I'm concerned. But I
am straining. Fucking throbbing. Because Scully's not
three feet away touching herself and--

"Mmmhhhhh."

Moaning.

*Holy fucking shit.*

Check that. I was not fucking throbbing then. But I'm
sure as hell doin' it now.

"Ohhhhhkay," I whisper to myself, staring at the
yellow lines in the center of the road. I start to
count the stripes. I gotta do something, because it
just wouldn't be a good idea to whip it out and
pleasure myself right here. 

One... two... three...

Twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight...

Sixty-seven, sixty-eight, sixty-nine...

Awwww shit. Not a good thing. 

My mind starts working overtime. Jesus. You know
you've got it bad when a simple juvenile cliche can
lead you to a sexual image so intense that you can't
even breathe.

"Hmmm."

*Dammit, Scully!!!*

It was like she was agreeing. I have to look over
again, I have to. Just once. Just to see. Her. There.

My eyes flick to her lower body and she's got her legs
spread a little more, and it is very evident that
she's got her long, slender fingers working between
them like there's no tomorrow. She traces them up and
down and then presses her palm against herself,
grinding, inducing another little Scully moan.

She's gonna kill me. She's gonna kill us both when I
run off the fucking road and hit a cactus, grabbing at
my cock in a desperate attempt to jack off before
death.

I have to pull over. I look for a place on the side of
the road, a little turnout, anything. If she wakes up,
I could tell her I just wanted to rest for a bit. If
not, I could get the fuck out of this car and do some
rubbing of my own. My eyes catch the flash of a little
sign up ahead and I slow down; can't turn out going
eighty. The little turnout on the right is just a
gravel half circle, no amenities, just enough to turn
off the car and take a much needed nap, or a much
needed jerk. I slow down even more, not wanting to
wake Scully from whatever luscious dream she's having,
and turn off onto the side. 

I pull up about halfway and stop the car, slamming it
into park and switching off the ignition. The silence
rushes over me and now all I can hear is Scully
breathing. *Oh, this is even better.* She wasn't
breathing like that before. I look over at her and
watch her chest heaving a little more, and then I look
down her right arm and watch her move her fingers over
herself once again. She's sliding all four of them up,
and then down, in a slow rubbing motion that
hypnotizes me. It's amazing what one can do in one's
sleep.

I rub my eyes and plop my hands down on my thighs, the
slightest movement of fabric against my erection
making me shiver. And then, as if my right hand has a
fucking mind of its own, it travels over to my cock
and clenches around it. It takes all I have not to
moan outloud, so Scully does it for me. *Thanks.
Thanks a lot.* I tighten my hand against it and start
to move it up and down, leading me to wonder if the
idea of leaving the car is now completely abandoned. I
grit my teeth, exhale slowly, and look over at my
partner. 

The moonlight is playing over her face, partially
covered by her disheveled mop of red hair. But I can
still see her lips as they move, watch them part as
she sighs or breathes or moans. My hand's moving
faster and I push myself against the back of the seat,
tilting my head back as my hips thrust upward
slightly. My left hand moves from my thigh and grabs
for something, anything to hold onto. 

I find the steering wheel and grab one of the center
columns. *Oh, that's nice. Really nice.* I roll my
head over to watch Scully as she pants softly, her
hand moving a little faster. I grip the steering wheel
and...

HONK.

*Ohshit. Ohfuck. Ohjesus...*

She jumps awake, her eyes wild as I slam my right hand
down against the divider. She slams her right hand
down on the door handle. *Fuckin' horn. Goddamned
Tauruses. Son of a bitch!*

"What... what happened?" she asked, sitting upright
groggily.

"I uhhh. We're stopped, because I had to rest... take
a nap. And we're here, on the side of the road...
everything's fine." My thoughts are spitting out as
half sentences.

"Why did you honk the horn?" she yawns, looking over
at me with her cheek pressed against the seat.

"Accident." *No shit.*

"Oh." Scully bites her lip and meets my eyes. *Don't
look down now, Scully, cause you might like what you
see.*

"Yeah." This erection needs to make like David
Copperfield and disappear. He can make elephants
disappear, you'd think he could fuckin' do me some
justice here.

We're silent for a few minutes as we both rest and
recover. I know she was close. Hell, I was close. 

"Mulder."

Ting. My cock just lost the efforts of five minutes of
concentration.

"Yeah?"

"Did... I..." she sighs, and turns to face the
windshield. I do the same. "Did you see me... doing...
that?"

Confessional time. "Yeah."

She breathes in sharply, as if she didn't know that I
was going to say it. I guess I didn't even know what I
was going to say. "Oh."

"Yeah."

*Sex makes every conversation more interesting.*

I don't know what to do. I don't want to leave her
frustrated. It should be my duty, my calling, to set
things straight. To make things right. To help her
out.

I have always had this warped sense of logic I just
can't explain.

"Scully?"

She's still staring at the windshield. "Yeah?"

"It was mutual."

Her eyes widen. But her sight remains focused on
something invisible in front of the bumper.

"It was, huh?" Her voice is soft. 

"Get over here, Scully."

Jesus. *What the hell am I doing... who the hell am I
kidding... where the hell am I going to work after she
fuckin' reports me for sexual har--*

The divider is lifted and Scully slides into my lap as
smoothly as any maneuver I've ever witnessed. She's
facing me, her back against the bottom part of the
wheel, her knees on either side of my hips. I find
myself glad that I've got the seat back as far as it
can go. But that, in fact, is the least of my concerns
at this point.

I didn't think I could get any harder. But then, I've
never had Scully hot and damp right above me.

Before I know it, she's got her hand between us, but
she's not rubbing me... she's rubbing herself.

Though I feel a twinge of remorse, I also feel a hot
throb of arousal when she tosses her head back and
sighs softly.

"Scully... I..." I whisper, my hands not knowing where
the hell to go, and finally settling on her thighs. 

"Mulder..." she sighs softly, looking down at me. I
can see the desperation in her eyes. "Do it now."

"Me?" No, the other Mulder in the backseat you
cocksucker.

"Yeah... oh god please..."

Her fingers are moving a little faster as I move my
right hand down between us, my knuckles brushing with
hers as she lifts her hips just enough so that I can
get my hand over my cock. I moan softly at the
feeling, the air warm between us as I start to massage
it roughly through my pants.

"Scuhhlllyy..." I moan, watching her with half-closed
eyes. She bites her lip and puts her left hand at the
base of my neck, fingers tensing over the knotted
muscles as I strain to keep myself under control. 

"Mulder," she answers, her whisper soft, as she moves
her hand up to her zipper and pulls it down. I hear it
and I grab my zipper, pulling it down at the same
time, feeling the same urgent need to feel hot skin as
she. 

Scully slips her hand into her fly and I do the same,
our movements mimicking each other. I find the slit of
my boxers and force my hand through, a little
restricted on the movement, but it works. I stroke my
fingers up and down and clench my teeth as my breath
hisses through them. She plunges her hand down into
her pants, and probably her panties, and moans. I wish
I could see it, but hearing her and watching her
expressions is good enough.

I wrap my fingers around my cock and start to pump it
furiously, my head resting back against the seat and
feeling her hand behind my neck. I watch her as she
whimpers, pressing her hips against her hand and down
against me, brushing against my cock and sending me
spiraling deeper toward the point of no return.

"Jesus, Mulder, I'm gonna... it's... uhhnh...." she
pants. I can hear her hand rubbing hard and fast
against the fabric of her clothes and I think about
how she's rubbing her clit, her folds, maybe fingering
herself... right on top of me...

"Yeaahh..." I whisper through my teeth, thrusting my
hips up against her hand. She moans as I retreat and
rub my cock faster. The sparks of this incredible
build are tingling up my body like fireworks and I
feel like I'm either going to pass out or come harder
than I ever have. Ever.

She grabs the back of my neck and pulls, moaning and
tilting her head back.

"Mul... Mullhhhh... mmmhmmmmlldd..." she whimpers, her
fingernails digging into my neck. She comes hard,
bucking back up against the steering wheel and
groaning softly at the same time, followed by several
shallow breaths that catch in her throat like she's
drowning in the waves of her orgasm.

Listening to her, it doesn't take me long to be near
the edge. I close my eyes and squeeze my cock, feeling
it build deep in my balls and erupt suddenly, a chord
in my body tightening with electric release. I don't
speak intelligibly when I come, just moan and groan
and clench my eyes shut as I know she's staring at me,
watching me, pushing her fingers through her wetness
as I stop my hand, which is covered with my semen.
*Without a sink in sight.*

She leans into me, her body covering mine and her
mouth by my cheek. She's still breathing heavily, and
I can feel her moist breath against my skin and her
chest heaving with mine. 

"Mulder," she whispers. I open my eyes and turn to
face her and she smiles. I return the gesture, my mind
connecting with what just happened. It feels good.
Really fucking good.

"Feeling better, Scully?" I ask, grinning.

"Mmmhmm," she answers, with a little giggle that melts
my heart. *I love her giggles. Such a blissful
rarity.*

I laugh, and she looks at me with her eyebrows raised.
"What?"

"We're in the car."

"I know that," she answers, squeezing my arm with her
hand. "What's so funny about that?"

"Well, I remember you complaining about us being in
the car too much," I comment, grinning.

"Yeah, I did. We are. So?"

"Well, do you think..." I say, running a hand down her
side and making her shiver, "if we did this more
often, that you could stop bitching at me?"

She laughs, her grin widening. "About the car, maybe."

End.

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