Author: Rachel Anton E-Mail: RaValliano@aol.com Rating: NC-17 Category: S Keywords: MSR Spoilers: Small Chinga, nothing major. Disclaimers: Nope, still don't own em. Mulder and Scully belong to the surfer God and to each other. Summary: Scully's take on the events in Just Words I. Note: This is Scully's take and is somewhat different than Mulder's portrayal of events ala Bad Blood. Keep in mind that it's supposed to be that way and is not an author screw up. :) And please, let me know if it works! There is something strange in the atmosphere tonight. It's going to rain soon. It's one of those Spring evenings where everything in nature seems to be waiting. The clouds are almost oppressive. The humidity intense. I open one of the windows to let in some of the charged air. Waiting...for what? I feel as though I am waiting as well. For the beginning of something? Or the end? I am not sure. But I am filled with the nervous energy of the waiter. The person who is close to...something. Yeah that's it. Something. Real profound. I close my journal angrily. Those words don't even come close to making sense. What am I trying to say here? Waiting. Waiting for the goddamn weekend to be over probably Dana. It's been nice so far. Really it has. Last night I spent two hours in the tub, read a great book and fell asleep more content that I've felt in a long time. And this morning I had a lovely breakfast and went for a nice drive. I even did some clothes shopping. It was a pleasant, relaxing day. Until I got home. Until I tried to finally do what I had been planning on doing this weekend in the first place. Some reflection. I wanted to sort through some things. To think about the state of my life, the direction I should be heading in. It's been so long since I've really had a moment to myself to think about this and I needed it. The problem is that when I think about my life all roads lead back to one place. And that place is covered with a big fat question mark these days. Ever since I've known Mulder I have defined myself in relation to him. His goals, his dreams, I accepted or rejected them but either way they helped define who and what I was. Either way I walked forward with him. Knowing what he was after and wanting desperately to help him get it. But lately, lately I have little to no idea what Mulder wants or expects from this journey we are on. I know that he needs me in his life still, I know that he cares for me with a fierce loyalty. But the path has become somewhat blurry. Both of our beliefs have been shaken and the motivations behind each of our actions called into question. Long story short; I don't know what he wants anymore and it has left me floundering. This is not as pathetic as it might sound. I am not completely reliant on him for my identity as a human being. But a huge part of my life has always been the give and take between us, the action and reaction. The passion of his beliefs has always been a guide for me. And now, well I'm just not sure about anything anymore. If I knew what was driving him it would help me sort through my own feelings, my desires. Well never mind about my desires. We're not even going to go there. The problem is, if I want to figure any of this out I need to talk to him. I need to call him. After I lectured him for a half an hour on Friday about leaving me the hell alone this weekend. How embarrassing. It is strange that he hasn't called me yet. I was not expecting him to last even half this long. He's probably not even home. If he were home he would have called me by now. Maybe he went away for the weekend. I can't help but feel sad about that possibility. Dammit I miss him. What IS my problem. I just want to hear his voice. Just call him. He's not even home. Just listen to the message, get your fix, and stop thinking about him. I leave the kitchen table and move to the living room, to the phone. I sit down on the floor by the couch and start to dial the number. This is so stupid. God is this ridiculous. The phone rings once, twice, five times. I was right. He's not home. I am partially relieved, partially disappointed. I can't wait to hear his voice on the machine. "Hello." Oh. Oh shit. He's there. Hang up. No don't. Shit. What the hell am I doing? "Hello?!" God he sounds bitchy as hell. "Mulder...um hi." "Scully? What is it?" Good question. "Um...nothing. Nothing. I was just.." "Just what?" Shit. How am I supposed to answer that. I am not supposed to be talking to him at all. How in the world do I explain myself. "Scully are you there?" "Yeah. Yeah I'm here. Whatcha doing?" He sighs melodramatically. "Cleaning grout." he says with a pout that I can see through the telephone. "You?" "I'm...I was thinking. Just thinking." "Scully I thought you didn't want to talk to me until Monday." Well here we go. I might as well just come out with it. There is no real excuse other than the truth. What I've really been thinking about. "Well I actually have something I wanted to ask you about Mulder. Something I've been thinking about." "Oh yeah. What's that Scully?" Why does he have to sound so damn cocky. Why does he have to gloat about this. "I was just...just thinking and...wondering about.." God spit it out woman. "Mulder what do you want out of your life?" I wonder if that sounded as completely random as I think it did. He is silent for a moment. A long uncomfortable moment. God Mulder, please don't make a joke and change the subject. Please just give me a straight answer for once. "I'd like to see the Yankees win the World Series again." Great. Fucking great. I think maybe I'll hang up now. "Mulder I think..." "Scully I...I just don't know how to answer that question." He sounds like he doesn't know the answer either. I suppose that's no real surprise. We are both so lost lately. "I know it's a difficult question Mulder. Believe me I know. But I just...I used to know and...just tell me the truth Mulder. Whatever it is." "The truth?" "Yes, the truth." "The truth is Scully...what I want is not that unusual. In fact it's downright normal." He sounds hesitant and shy suddenly. "I'd really...I'd be happy just to have someone Scully." To have someone? What does he mean? He has me. Doesn't he? "I'd be happy just to have someone I love feel safe in my arms. Someone I could hold and protect. Someone who" his voice catches for a moment and I am afraid he is going to cry. Oh Mulder. Is that all? "Someone who loves me, who I could protect and cherish. Someone I could share everything with..." He drifts off and a sigh escapes me. It sounds so wonderful. I wonder if he wants that person to be me as much as I want to be that person. "When I picture my ideal life, Scully all I can see now is lying next to someone, holding her, knowing that she is happy just to be in my arms, that she has faith in me and that she trusts me completely. Even with her heart." My heart clenches in my chest for both of us. For this man who is so desperate to be loved, who has so much love to give. And for me, this woman who is so afraid to let someone love her. We are quite a pair. Does he know how badly I want to be that woman? How that picture brings a smile of longing to my face? I want to tell him. "Mulder..." But I am a coward. I cannot tell him this. Not yet. There is a silence between us, thick with unspoken need. "Tell me how you're holding her. Close your eyes and tell me what you see." I know what I am seeing. I need to know if it's the same picture. "Um..okay. We're lying together on my couch, under a blanket. She's in warm fuzzy flannel pajamas. She looks safe and warm. I'm in sweatpants. Her head is resting under my chin as she sleeps and she has the most beautiful, peaceful smile. I know that smile is there because of me. That I make her feel happy and content." Yes. Oh yes that is beautiful Mulder. His voice is so wistful when he speaks of it I think I am going to cry. And then he goes on, in a more gravely tone. "One of my arms is around her back, clutching her body to mine. The other is wrapped in her hair." He stops for a moment and I am struck by a vivid mental image of myself wrapped in his naked arms. It's making me itch. It's making me hot. "Her arms are wrapped around my stomach and our legs are so tangled up that I can't tell where she ends and I begin." What is he doing? Oh my God what is he doing to me? He is starting to breathe heavily. Or is that me? Without even realizing it my free hand starts stroking my leg, imagining how it would feel. "I'm holding her so tight that I can feel every beat of her heart against me. Her body feels so good. God she feels..." I clutch myself through the material of my sweatpants. Oh my God. Jesus. "I bury my face in her hair and it's so soft, it smells so sweet, she smells so good..." I moan. I can't help it. Dammit. What's the matter with me? He must think I'm a desperate horny mess. But he's doing it on purpose. God he must be. He must be trying to turn me on. He must. Is this what he dreams about at night? Is this his fantasy? It's so much tamer than the thoughts that keep me awake, and yet it is so erotic and exciting in its tenderness and simplicity. Is this what the king of porn masturbates to? I wouldn't have thought it but the way he was saying it...I need to know. Can I ask him that? Is that all right? I have no idea what is all right right now. This is too strange. Almost dizzy with the need to understand I ask him if this is his fantasy. He sucks in a breath and asks me what exactly I mean by fantasy. His voice is so damn sexy. Jesus Christ. He's not going to make this easy is he. I don't even know what I mean. I don't know what I'm saying or thinking anymore. Suddenly he mutters a frighteningly arousing "Yeah." Oh God. Yeah what? Just yeah? Is he touching himself right now? Shit, I am. How did that happen? "It's one of my fantasies Scully. You wanna hear another one?" What? What did he just say? What the fuck did he just say? And beyond what he said, the way he said it. My God. Lord and Jesus. There is no mistaking that tone, no doubt what he is talking about here. But is he kidding? Is he teasing me? Does he really want to do this? Do I? I don't know. I don't know. But I do. God I do. And I tell him that. And I wait. What kind of fantasy will it be? Another sweet image of domestic tranquillity? Somehow I doubt that. My center is starting to twitch in anticipation and I grind my palm against it. What does Mulder want? What makes him hot? God I am starting to sweat. How did we get here? I feel completely out of control. Is this all it takes? One description of a hug and I am masturbating on the living room floor, begging for more. Maybe I am a desperate, horny mess. Or maybe it's just Mulder. Mulder and that damn voice. Where did that voice go anyway? He's been eerily silent for some time now. Has he changed his mind? Was it a fucking joke? Did he expect me to laugh it off and hang up? "Mulder...are...are you gonna tell me?" Oh my God. I sound so fucking pathetic. He is probably holding the phone away from him so I won't hear him laughing at me. Just when I am ready to hang up he starts talking. Quietly, lyrically. And I try to imagine the scene he creates. Naked? No. His set up is all wrong. This needs to be real. I need to see it. Underwear. Better. Much better. Boxers? Silk? Cotton? Black boxer briefs. Oh yeah. I like that. I can see his image clearly now. Lying sprawled out on his couch, sleeping on his back, his upper body covered in the thin sheen of sweat he develops when he is in slumber, the Indian blanket tangled around his legs. Once he has set the scene his voice lowers. God it's hypnotic. He's bound. He's blindfolded. He pauses for a moment to let this sink in. To test the waters. Am I offended? Disgusted? I can hear his questions in the silence. I let my own silence be an answer in itself. A disoriented Mulder, waking up with a black silk sash covering his eyes, his hands cuffed behind his back. This is a fantasy of mine as well. How bizarre. How unlikely. How completely unsurprising. She has done this to him. She. Who is she? Is she a stranger in this fantasy? A lover? Does he even know? Does it even matter? I try to find my voice. My throat is so dry I don't know if I can even ask. "Do you know her?" I manage to choke out. He knows her. He knows her well. Well enough to give her keys to his apartment. I have keys to his apartment. It could be me. In my mind it is. I suddenly imagine myself there, pacing over him, looking at his body, witness to his helplessness. I slip my hands under the waistband of my pants and stroke myself through my panties. I can feel the moisture pooling there, dripping down my legs. I stifle a moan into the cushions of the couch. Why do I bother? Not sure. I think part of me is still afraid to acknowledge that we are actually doing this. He continues. His fantasy woman whispers in his ear. "Do you trust me?" Do you trust me. Of course. No wonder Mulder has this fantasy. He needs to make love to someone he trusts. He needs to know that he can be completely at someone's mercy, to surrender control entirely, and to know that person won't hurt him. To know that she loves him enough not to take advantage of his vulnerability. You are the only one I trust. So many years have passed since he said that to me. I never forgot it. And it's never changed. "She runs her fingernails over by bare chest and my shoulders. She touches me so lightly but it's enough to turn me on. It's enough to make me hard." Hard. It makes him hard. Oh Jesus. I can see it. I can see his cock, pressing against the material of his underwear. I pull my sweatpants down and remove them from my body. My hand slips underneath my panties and finally come into contact with my bare flesh. "She orders me to stand up. I stagger to my feet and she leads me away from the couch. I'm standing in the middle of the floor and her hands slip under the waistband of my underwear. I think she is going to touch me. I want her to touch me. God Scully. I want it so bad." He is breathless, panting out his words. Oh Mulder. So do I. Oh God let me touch you. "But she doesn't." Dammit. "She pulls them off and steps back. I can sense her staring at me. Taking in every inch of flesh. Devouring me with her eyes." Devouring him with my eyes. I can see every angle and every plane. Every ripple of every muscle. Standing naked in his living room. Bound. Hard. That's the only part I can't see. Having no first hand knowledge of his erect penis I have to use my imagination. And I do. I am generous. "You wanna know what she does next?" Please. Oh please. "Yeah" "She grabs my shoulders and pushes me down to my knees in front of her. I can smell her. God I can practically taste her already. She must be naked there." I pull my panties off. "I want to taste her. She digs her nails into my hair and pulls me to her, burying my face between her legs. Oh God she tastes so good. So wet...I slide my tongue through her folds. All around, in and out of her. I know how she likes it. All I wanna do is please her. Make her feel so good that she can't even stand anymore. She cries out and grinds herself into my face. She starts to tremble as I flick my tongue back and forth over her clit, faster and faster." Oh God. Oh my fucking God. I start to flick my index finger over my clit. If I concentrate on his voice hard enough it actually becomes his tongue. "It makes me so hot to be doing this to her. I wanna touch myself so bad. My cock is pulsing...I'm shaking so hard. But I'm bound so tight, I can't do anything but lick her sweetness. She's gasping and clutching my head and...God I can tell you're about to come." You? You're about to come? Did he say that? Am I hallucinating? "I wanna make you come." Oh my God. He wants to make me come. I am almost there. "Oh...Mulder" "But she doesn't let me. She pushes me away." She again. I whimper in disappointment and frustration. It's back to her. She is leading him to the kitchen chair. She is tying his ankles to the legs. But it's me. I know that now. In both of our minds it is me. "She stands behind me and starts licking my ear. I try to turn my head to get closer to her lips, her sweet lips. I want them. I need to kiss them. I need to kiss you. She lets me but only for a minute, only long enough to taste herself on my lips and tongue." I bring my fingers from myself and kiss them, suck on them. For a moment they are Mulder's lips. God he must not even realize what he's saying. "She whispers in my ear, asks me if I want her to fuck me. But she knows that I do. She knows how bad I want her. How much I need her, to be inside her..." We both moan simultaneously at the thought of it. "She runs her hands over me...I can't tell where she is anymore. All I feel is her fingers stroking my skin, so lightly. God I want more. More Scully, God please...more." He whimpers desperately. Oh Mulder. I want to give you more. I want to give you everything. "I feel her tongue running over my skin, tasting me everywhere. So good...feels so good..." He grunts into the phone. I can't believe this. I can't fucking believe this. The noises he is making, his voice. I don't think anything has ever turned me on as much as this. For the first time I allow myself to imagine him for real. To picture him there in his apartment. Touching himself. The way that I am. "Finally I feel her tongue swirl around the head of my cock. So good Scully. So good. I need more. I try to move, to jerk into your mouth but I can't, I'm tied so tight. And then she's gone and I...I don't know where she is and I'm scared because what if she left...what if she left me like that but I know you wouldn't Scully. I know it in my heart. And do you know why?" Because you trust me. Because you know I would never leave you. Because you know I love you. She returns to him. Her again. She is on top of him. Finally. Finally he is inside her. And she is sliding up and down his cock, slowly, so slowly. I slip one then two fingers inside me and move them in and out at an agonizing pace. "She's so hot and so tight, so fucking good. I want to move, I wanna go deeper, harder, but I can't. I start to beg, please, please Scully, let me move so that I can pound into you the way I need to, the way you want me to..." I want that. Yes I want that. I moan and call out his name, clutching the receiver tightly to my ear. "She starts to move faster herself. God Scully..harder..faster...like that." I start pounding my fingers inside and grind my palm against myself. "I need to see her face when she comes Scully. I beg her to take off the blindfold, to let me see her. She knows what I want. She always knows what I want. She slides her fingers under the cloth and then there is brightness and confusion and then I see...God you're so beautiful Scully. So fucking beautiful." I am close. Holy Jesus I am so close. His next word pour out in a frenzied torrent, "You kiss me again, and again and you scream into my mouth and... and you are starting to tremble, to move faster and your hands are all over me and you're tightening around me and I...I..." What Mulder? What? He stops for a moment and I am close to tears. I am gonna come. Any second. My whole body is shaking and I can't even keep my eyes open anymore. I am starting to see a kaleidoscope of colors in my eyelids, dancing light everywhere. God Mulder don't stop now. And then he asks me. Where I am. What I am doing. What I'm wearing. He makes it real. He makes it not a fantasy. He makes it us, here and now, making love to each other over the phone. I manage to stutter out that I am on the living room floor, in nothing but a T-shirt, touching myself as he talks to me. That I am wet, that I am about to come. Any second. Jesus. I beg him to tell me about himself. What he's doing. "I'm on the couch, with my head resting on the cushions. I'm in jeans and nothing else." Perfect. Oh God that's perfect. "They're unbuttoned and I'm stroking my cock Scully, for you, I'm so...I'm so hard for you...so hot" his voice breaks into a trembling moan and I can hardly stand anymore. I am going to die, right here, right now, on this phone. He whispers raggedly "I wanna be in you so bad...so bad..." His words send shivers racing over my entire body but centering in the pulsing bundle of nerves that is about to explode. "Mulder...I'm gonna come" I manage to gasp out a warning. "Oh God..me too...me too Scully. God yeah..come for me. Please come for me...I wanna hear it. Let me hear you come." I want him. Oh my God how I want him. I want him here. I need him here. My hand is enough to bring me release but it isn't enough to fill me. Not any more. I need him. As if he has heard my thoughts Mulder cries out a response. The sound of his need, of his impending climax sets my hips to lifting off the ground, rotating blindly in the air, reaching out for him. I try to tell him this but I am more or less incoherent. He seems to understand though. He calls to me. "Go with it baby. God...yeah. Come with me...come for me. Come Scully...come on..." My hand is a complete blur of blinding motion against myself. I bite down on my lip hard enough to draw blood. "Scully...Scully...I'm throbbing, burning, Scully I'm on fire. So close...so close. Love. You." The entire world collapses in on itself and I am jerking frantically into my hand, my whole body practically levitating off the floor, my voice calling out incoherent gibberish that even I cannot understand. And then I hear him, screaming my name, screaming his love, and I see him, in my mind's eye, trembling, sweating, eyes squeezed shut, mouth open wide, coming...for me. Love. Me. He loves me. I knew this. I've known this for some time. But knowing it and hearing him say it as he comes are two entirely different things. I lay still in a pool of my own moisture for several minutes, panting, recovering, listening to him do the same. When the frenzy of the moment finally passes I start to feel a flicker of panic. What just happened here? What the hell just happened? What does it mean? What are we now? What the hell are we going to do? I've imagined our first sexual experience countless times, in countless ways. I have to say this has never been one of them. Does this even count as a sexual experience? We haven't even touched. Just words. It's just words. But words are important. A word, properly uttered, at the right time, in the right place, can be a caress. I learned this from Mulder a long time ago. And these words...God...what have we done? "Mulder what...what the hell did we just do?" He informs me that we just had phone sex. Or at least that's what he thinks we did. Well, that's a big fucking help. I think I managed to figure that much out on my own Mulder. But I laugh. I laugh because he is such a wise ass and so damn sweet about it and because I am happy and dizzy and confused and because I still feel almost high from this entire experience. And then he asks me if I liked it. In such a shy and desperate way and I fall in love with him all over again. How could I not like it? I am still laughing when I tell him to figure that out for himself. Suddenly he is deadly serious. Suddenly he tells me "I want to come over there Scully." and my world collapses again. Over here? He wants to come over here. I look down at my damp hand resting on my leg. That could be his hand. Not just in my mind, or in his mind, but in reality. Tonight. In about forty-five minutes. Half an hour if he speeds, which I am sure he will. Is that really what I want? Is it really what he wants? Or are we both just feeling like it is because of what we just did? I didn't expect this. I didn't plan for this. Not tonight. I'm not ready. Am I? Christ woman it's been five goddamn years. How much more ready do you have to get? Did I really think I'd ever be more ready? I don't know. I just feel like it's happening so fast, spinning out of control. "Mulder I'm not sure..." "Scully the things you said...when you came...you said..." He drifts off and I am left to wonder. What exactly did I say? I haven't a clue. Probably that I wanted him to come over. Because I did. And I do. But I am afraid. "Scully I'm coming over. I'm coming over now." And then he is gone. I am holding a dead reciever in my hand and I am left with the knowledge that he is on his way over here whether I like it or not. And I still haven't decided. I sit in a state of near shock, completely motionless, still holding the damn telephone to my ear, for a long time. I don't even know how long. He's coming over. Now. Right now. After awhile I start to realize that I should get off the floor and put some fucking pants on. I manage to put the phone down and stand on shaking legs. I start to pull on the panties and sweatpants I was wearing before but realize they are soaked with my juices. Better head to the closet. As I clean myself off a bit and find new clothes my fear over Mulder's impending arrival starts to give way to excitement. Then giddiness. Then back to fear. As I am lapsing back into excitement the phone rings. It's him. It's got to be. Telling me what? That he's changed his mind? He's not coming. It was temporary insanity. The thought and the devastation it causes in me makes me see just how badly I do want him to come over. I pick up the phone with nervous trepidation. "Hello." "Scully, I...I know I wasn't supposed to call you this weekend..." He is such a dead man. "But I was kind of wondering if maybe you had some fantasies of your own you felt like talking about." "Who is this?" "Scully?" He sounds terrified for a moment. What a schmuck. I laugh at both his eagerness and his silliness. "Mulder I hope you're not talking on the phone while you're driving. You know the statistics..." "Yeah I know the statistics Scully. So you know if you don't have any off the top of your head, I've got plenty I'd like to get off my chest." "I'm sure you do. Just get your little butt over here in one piece." "My butt huh? That's a good place to start..." "Mulder I'm hanging up now." "But it's such a long drive Scully." "Mulder you don't even wanna know the fatality statistics for phone sex while driving. Pretty scary stuff." "Scully..." He is whining. Why can't I wipe this goofy grin off my face? "Scully you didn't put pants on did you?" "Just get over here Mulder. And slow down." "I'll slow down if you tell me one. Come on Scully. Just a quickie. Please." How can I resist when he sounds so pathetic? "Well Mulder, since you asked, I've got a long standing fantasy involving you and me and that blue Taurus and a blow job..." As I speak I can hear the blaring horns and the screeching brakes in Mulder's wake and I know that he will be here very soon. And that we will finally be able to bring life to our fantasies in more than just words. End part II You're gonna have to use your imagination for the rest :)