Worth Breaking (2/6)
by Narida Law
(narida_law@hotmail.com)

Headers available in a separate post.

Other parts can be found at:
http://www.angelfire.com/ms/naridalaw

~~~~~~~~
Chapter Four
~~~~~~~~

Mulder's Apartment
July 23
6:34 p.m.

Every time he caught himself whistling, he'd stop.  A few 
moments later, he'd catch himself doing it again.  He 
usually whistled when he was nervous or happy.  In this 
case, it was a little of both.

He didn't know why he was so anxious about going to 
Scully's for dinner.  It was standard, routine.  Once a 
week, when they weren't on a case, they would take turns, 
once a week, to prepare dinner for each other at their 
respective apartments.

It was Scully's turn.  Such was the case half the time, but 
he had never felt this particular combination of light-
headedness and terror before.

It wasn't that bad, actually.

He couldn't have been more thrilled with the way things 
were working out.  He and Scully hadn't lost their easy 
companionship, despite their new carnal knowledge of each 
other.  Things at the office had been surprisingly 
comfortable.  He'd expected a little awkwardness, maybe, 
and perhaps a little embarrassment.  He'd prepared himself 
for stilted conversations before things truly settled.

He wanted to take it one step further, but he was patient.  
He could wait.  There would be plenty of time to convince 
her those damn rules weren't necessary.

As it turned out, he'd been overly cautious.  They had 
jumped back into their working relationship with total 
ease.  He behaved as he always did - light flirting, subtle 
innuendo, and the occasional invasion of personal space.  
For the most part, she responded in her usual manner - 
barely concealed exasperation, deadpan deflections, and the 
occasional arched eyebrow.

More than that, things seemed =better= than before.  Scully 
seemed a lot less tense and certainly he felt a new 
lightheartedness.  He would often look up from his desk, 
catch Scully's glance, and return her smile.  Afterward he 
would realize that she had been responding to =his= smile, 
which seemed permanently plastered to his face.  In fact, 
at times he would wonder why the muscles in his cheeks 
ached, and then realize he was grinning - and had probably 
been doing so for some time.

He wasn't aware of their sexual tension in the same way.  
It was less urgent, less on the surface.  He was better 
able to concentrate on his work, and, it appeared, so was 
she.  They had really done themselves a good turn.

He'd really convinced her that he wanted to get rid of his 
attraction for her.  It was rather disturbing that she had 
been so eager to get rid of hers for him.  There was no way 
in hell he was going to let =that= happen.

In the meantime, he'd play along and pretend his attraction 
for her was dissipating.  He'd get to work on "defeating" 
it - hopefully, a lot.  He knew he was grinning 
idiotically, and didn't care.

However, thinking about it made him excited, so he tried 
not to, especially around Scully.  He had to take things 
slow - she was likely a bit skittish at this early stage, 
and he didn't want to frighten her off.

It was difficult to keep his lust at bay, yes, but not 
impossible.  Often, the best trick would be to simply train 
his gaze on Scully, who was even more ethereally beautiful 
lately.  He enjoyed simply looking at her, marveling at her 
petite and perfect figure, the way her eyelashes framed her 
expressive eyes so perfectly, the way she would tuck a 
strand of her soft, thick hair behind her ear when she was 
studying a document.

His libido would rise again when she got up from behind her 
desk and he caught a glimpse of her gorgeous legs, but he 
would simply squelch his desire.  Accomplishing that was a 
lot less painful than it had been before.  Before, his need 
had almost been overpowering.  Now, he felt content to 
wait.  Because Scully was worth waiting for.

Almost immediately after their first time together, he had 
realized that "just once" wasn't going to be enough.

As a result, he'd been a little disturbed by the rules she 
had insisted on imposing upon their fledgling relationship.  
He had gone along, albeit a bit reluctantly.

He was proud of himself for not letting his emotions get 
the better of him by making unreasonable demands of her.  
She would have shown him the door immediately.  Thank God 
it turned out he was a mature, responsible adult, after 
all.

Using the same tactic, he would control himself at this 
dinner.  It would be like always, two colleagues, two 
friends, having a weekly dinner together.  He didn't want o 
push his luck, revealing to her that he wasn't capable of 
handling the relationship as it now stood.  First, he 
needed to convince her - subtly of course - that what they 
now had was fantastic, but more would be even better. 

Mulder pulled on his leather jacket, still whistling.  
Making sure he had his keys in his pocket, he exited the 
apartment.

Dinner.  Friends.  Natural.  Casual.

~~~~~~~~

Scully's Apartment
July 23
7:17 p.m.

"Oh...ohhhh...oh God!"

Mulder clutched at the material of Scully's sofa as he 
watched her head bob up and down on his lap.  The tender 
ministrations of her mouth - her lips and tongue on his 
cock - was quickly driving him over the edge.

This was Scully.  This was really Scully giving him head in 
her living room.  The very thought nearly signaled the end.  
If he was kind, maybe he ought to come now.  After all, her 
work would then be over.  But he was also a selfish bastard 
and the sensations felt entirely too good for him to stop 
her just yet.

So he held on, and she kept sucking.

Mulder wondered hazily how they had gotten to this point so 
quickly.  He was still wearing his jacket, for Pete's sake.

He dimly remembered knocking on Scully's door, fully aware 
that he was wearing a goofy and slightly nervous smile.

Her first words were, "Mulder, you look a little tense," 
spoken in a tone that had immediately caused his dick to 
stand at attention.

She had then led him over to the sofa without saying 
another word and proceeded to coax him into unbuttoning his 
pants.  Not much coaxing had really been needed, but his 
nerveless fingers had made themselves so useless that it 
looked like he was resisting rather than assisting.

It had all seemed rather surreal.  He kept waiting for her 
to burst into a peal of laughter, or else slap him - hard.

This is a test, he told himself.  She wants to see if 
you'll stick to the rules.  Technically, it was even his 
rule, though it had been sarcastically meant.  If she 
wanted to break his rule, that was fine by him.

This was, of course, against regulations.  No sexual 
activity was to be performed while in each other's homes.  
It made impersonal sex rather difficult, when one was 
surrounded by the other's personal effects.

He was a slut - no resistance came from him whatsoever.  He 
was physically incapable of resisting.  She could put a 
stop to it at any time, however.  And right up until her 
lips closed over him, he'd thought she was going to do 
exactly that.

She hadn't hesitated once.  She'd grabbed hold of him as 
soon as his erection had cleared his pants and instantly 
brought her mouth to him.

That was a few minutes ago.  Or maybe it was eons.  
Presently, she was sliding him in and out of her hot mouth 
continually, stroking him with her tongue.  After paying 
especial attention to the head of his cock, which she 
kissed and licked and squeezed between her lips, she took 
the length of him in again.

He couldn't take his eyes away from her.  The sight of her 
engulfing his dick with her mouth was unbelievably 
exciting, yes.  What was most intoxicating was the 
knowledge that it was Scully doing this to him.  For him.  
God, she was so beautiful.

She kept going, farther than she had before, until he could 
feel himself prodding the back of her throat.  And still 
she kept taking him in, until she had every last inch down 
her throat, and her nose was touching the skin right below 
his stomach.

"Omghh," he groaned, giving a little involuntary thrust.  
Damn.  He hadn't meant to do that.  How was she not 
choking?  How was she not gagging on him?  No matter how 
much he wanted to touch her, he kept his hands to himself.  
The last thing he wanted was for Scully to think he was 
going to hold her head down.

It was the least he could do to show his gratefulness.  
Boy, was he grateful.  She was a goddess.

When she began to slide him in and out of her throat, all 
the little whimpers he had been making turned into full-
blown groans.  God, she was incredible.  This was...it was 
the most...God, she was incredible.

He nearly lost it all when he saw her close her eyes, 
taking him in as though she was sucking on her favorite 
lollipop.  It struck him how much she was enjoying this.  
He'd had blow jobs before, but no one had ever seemed to 
delight in it as much as she seemed to be doing now.  Maybe 
it was because Scully simply enjoyed the act?  Or maybe it 
was because it was he that she derived joy from it?  God, 
he hoped that was it.

Just when he thought he couldn't feel better than he was 
feeling at that moment, one of her hands reached between 
his legs and cupped his balls through his boxers.  He saw 
stars - he really did, and he thought he might have started 
drooling when she began to massage him lightly.  It was 
just the right amount of friction to add to the pleasure he 
was already feeling, and he distractedly told himself that 
he better remember every second, because his life would 
never get better than this.

She started making humming noises in the back of her 
throat, and he could feel the vibrations running in little 
waves of pleasure all over him.  He'd praise her for her 
impressive repertoire, only he honestly believed that she 
didn't have one.  The humming seemed to stem from her own 
pleasure.  At least, if the constant "mmmm" sounds were 
anything to go by.

He felt a familiar tightening at the base of his cock 
signaling his impending orgasm.  He opened and closed his 
mouth several times to try and warn her, but no sounds 
issued forth.  He had to warn her, didn't he?  Fellatio 
etiquette escaped him at the moment.  This was his first 
blow job ever by Scully, and already it had surpassed any 
and all of his previous experiences.  It would be 
presumptuous to assume that she'd want to swallow, too.

Finally he was able to get out, "Scuh - " but she was too 
fixated on her task to appreciate his effort; she didn't 
even pause.  "Gonna...gonna come, Scuh...Scuh..."

She ignored him.  Okay, that had to be deliberate.  He had 
strung five words together in an audible voice and she was 
still just sucking the life out of him.  Which 
meant...which meant she wanted him to come.  In her mouth.

"JESUS!"  The thought of Scully =wanting= to swallow his 
ejaculation was what finally did it.  He jerked into her 
mouth, spasming as he emptied himself down her throat.  Her 
hands were on his thighs, holding his lower body down as 
much as she could, all the while continuing to suckle him, 
milking him dry.

Well, one rule was definitely blown - so to speak.  Oral 
sex was sex.  And they were in Scully's apartment.  But had 
he broken another rule, the other ridiculous one he had 
manufactured, about not saying each other's names?  She 
definitely had not said anything - that much was for 
certain.  What about him, had he said her name?  Almost, he 
realized.  But not exactly.  So technically, that rule was 
intact.  Just barely.  He found himself almost 
disappointed.  Well, he shouldn't be too greedy.  One was a 
start.

His brow furrowed as it occurred to him to wonder why she 
had done this in the first place.  Setting up those damn 
rules had been her idea.  He wouldn't allow himself to hope 
that she had reached the same conclusions as he - he highly 
doubted that she had come to realize she wanted to spend 
the rest of her life with him in the time between their 
first sexual experience and his arrival at her door 
tonight.

Scully braced herself against his legs and lifted herself 
up from where she had been kneeling between his knees.

"So are you hungry, Mulder?"  She brushed some lint from 
her jeans.

He could only stare at her and nodded mutely.  She stepped 
around his left leg and made her way over to the kitchen.  
The sex was over, so it was safe to say each other's names 
again.  Right.  And they were going to have dinner.  Like 
normal, friendly...oh who the hell was he kidding.

The sound of running water told him she was washing her 
hands.

"Good, because I made your favorite," she called, and he 
could hear the smirk in her voice.  It was an old joke 
between them - he ate anything, so everything she cooked 
was his favorite.

How could she =joke= at a time like this?  When he still 
sat stupefied on her couch, his dick still hanging limply 
out of his pants?  Wasn't she at all affected by what had 
just occurred?

She'd broken one of the rules!  Why had she done that?  Not 
that he was complaining, but he wanted to know what it 
meant.

Or perhaps it wasn't so significant for her.  Maybe he was 
making a big deal out of something that wasn't a big deal.  
She =had= said that times would come when one or all of the 
rules would no longer be necessary.  He had simply assumed 
that there'd be some sort of discussion about it, first, 
and he certainly hadn't expected a rule to be broken this 
soon.

Maybe subconsciously Scully really wanted the same thing he 
wanted.  The thought made him very happy.  But no - that 
was too easy.  He would just have to wait for her to 
enlighten him.

Silently he righted his underwear and buttoned his jeans, 
his hands shaking slightly.  Aftereffect of orgasm.

"Do you need an engraved invitation?"  Uh oh.  Slightly 
pissed tone of voice; he'd better go sit down at the table.  
Scully didn't like it when her sauces burned.

He got up a little shakily and took off his jacket, which 
he draped over the couch.  He then made his way to the 
kitchen and sat down at his normal place.

She had made chicken Alfredo...delicious.  Scully's 
culinary skills didn't extend very far, but her chicken 
Alfredo was out of this world.  She placed a heaping plate 
of pasta in front of him, not even half that amount for 
herself.  He busied himself by opening the wine bottle.  
This was routine.  What they did every time they had dinner 
at her place.  He always opened the wine.

A sudden thought flashed through his mind that he always 
wanted to be the one opening the wine bottle at Scully's 
table.  A wave of longing swept through him so fiercely 
that he actually felt his eyes burn.

Scully had already dug into her pasta, paying him no mind.  
He filled her glass first, then his own.  She took a big 
gulp of wine.

How could she eat so heartily after...after?

She took a crusty bread roll and dipped it into the creamy 
sauce.  The salad was ignored.  Mulder knew from experience 
she always ate that last.  She had read somewhere that this 
was the healthier way to eat.  He didn't see what 
difference it made since it was all mixed together once it 
went in, but Scully was surprisingly stubborn about things 
like that.  Just like the yogurt and bee pollen - he had 
told her a million times that she was a scientist and it 
was ridiculous she bought into such crap, but typically, 
she never listened to him.

"What's the matter?  Why aren't you eating?"

Under her scrutiny he obediently dug his fork into the 
pasta.  Steam rose from the noodles and sauce, and despite 
his inner turmoil his basic biological need for food took 
over.

He had had one basic biological need satisfied this evening 
by Scully; this was merely the second.

All right, he had to stop dwelling on that, so he 
concentrated on his food.  He glanced up once to ask her 
why she had jumped his bones the minute he'd shown up at 
her door, but was distracted by the sight of Scully chewing 
her pasta.  A little cream sauce had situated itself right 
above her upper lip, and her tongue darted out to clean it 
off.  He swallowed and forgot what he was going to say.

After that he looked up only to fill their wine glasses.

Finally, over bowls of vanilla ice cream, Mulder felt ready 
to confront her.  He cleared his throat, then opened his 
mouth to speak.

"You liked it, didn't you, Mulder?"

"W-what?"  Was she talking about the pasta or the fellatio?

The corners of her mouth twitched.  Her head tipped to the 
side, indicating the living room.  "What happened on the 
couch."

Was she kidding?  He was so thrown he could only stare at 
her.  She licked ice cream off her spoon; he couldn't seem 
to tear his gaze from her lips.

"You could say that, yeah," he answered raggedly.  Now he 
was at a loss as to how to ask her to explain her actions.  
What was he supposed to say?  Thanks for an incredible 
experience but don't let me catch you doing it again?  It 
was fanfuckingtastic Scully but have you lost your mind?  
What about your rules?

The evening in review: he arrived at Scully's apartment - 
the home of the woman he cared most about on the planet - 
she gave him a blow job, and then served him dinner...and 
he was going to ask her to explain herself?

It was official - he was an idiot.

But it was bothering him.  There was something not quite 
right about the whole scenario.

"Why?" he asked finally, foregoing anything more 
articulate.

She gave him a sheepish grin.  "I don't know - I felt like 
it.  It's been almost two weeks since..."  She flushed a 
little.

He raised an eyebrow.  So this was what Scully with an 
active sexual life was like.  In any other circumstance he 
might have given her a hard time, but there was no way in 
hell he was going to do that now.

"And," she continued a bit breathlessly, "I wanted to see 
what you would taste like.  I've been wondering about it 
all week."

He absently noted that the ice cream was melting - a 
natural process, to be sure, but he couldn't help but think 
that the heat of their current conversation was assisting 
in the liquefaction.

"O-Oh?"  Though he had so recently been sated, he felt 
himself begin to harden at her words.  It was her tone of 
voice; it was because Scully was the one saying them.  "And 
- what did I taste like?"

She cocked her head to the side, as if thinking for a 
moment.  She pushed her bowl away.  "Better than ice 
cream."

"Really?  Just this ice cream, or ice cream in general?"

Her eyes held laughter before she rolled them at him.  "It 
was one of the lesser rules, anyway."

"There are lesser rules?  There's a rule hierarchy?"

"Of course," she answered primly.  "You're the one who made 
it up," she reminded.  "You were being sarcastic, but at 
the time it actually kind of made sense.  However, the 
point of this exercise, I thought, was for us to be able to 
ease a little stress."

He nodded enthusiastically.  "That's true."

"We experience stress even when we're not on a case.  
Right?  So it seems kind of arbitrary to say we can't 
relieve some of it at this location or that.  Except at the 
office, of course.  For me, just getting up in the morning 
knowing I have to work with you is stressful, Mulder."  She 
grinned.

"Ha ha."  She had always been the more the levelheaded of 
the two of them.  She could tell herself whatever she 
wanted about keeping things separate.  Meanwhile, he would 
do his damnedest to make her forget about the rules 
entirely.  And if he did it stealthily, she wouldn't even 
notice until she was head over heels for him and wouldn't 
give a damn.

Still, some part of him was determined to make her suffer 
for imposing the rules in the first place.  "Won't this 
blur the line between, you know, the people we really are 
and..."

Her eyebrows raised.  "The other people we are?"

"Yes."

"They're just places, Mulder."  She shrugged.  "Locale.  
We'll just have to trust one another to keep things 
separate.  It would be ridiculous of us to waste money on a 
motel whenever we felt like..."  She looked down, flushing 
again.  It was really cute, the way she did that.  
"Copulating" was the word that sprang to his mind, but he 
didn't share.  "It'll be harder, but I think we can 
manage," she finished.

His mind flashed back to another time he had been in her 
apartment, drunk, having just held his father's dead body 
in his arms.  Scully had helped him into her bed, and even 
then, in his exhaustion, he'd realized that it was 
precisely because it was =Scully's= bed that it brought any 
comfort.  Now, he kept his mouth shut, even knowing that 
for him, locale was very significant.

Her trying to think otherwise was something he could use to 
his advantage.  He'd agree with whatever excuse she wanted 
to give, and then somehow he would take this intimacy and 
make Scully fully aware of how intimate it really was.  
Then she would see that they were both fully capable of 
being in an intimate relationship, that in fact, they had 
been engaging in one for quite some time without realizing 
it.

He nodded and smiled.  "You're absolutely right, of course, 
Scully."

She looked at him suspiciously.  He doubted he had ever 
said those particular words to her all in one sentence 
before.

"All right, then."  She had apparently decided to ignore 
the momentary aberration.

Decision made, they carried their plates and silverware to 
the sink.  They washed and dried together amiably, as they 
had dozens of times before.

He wiped his hands on his jeans.  He wasn't sure if their 
conversation meant he could stay tonight if he wanted, or 
whether it was just for future reference, or...

His thoughts halted when Scully slid her arms around his 
waist and looked up to meet his gaze with lust-filled eyes.  
The blood in his head began to rush in a southerly 
direction.

"So," she began huskily, "what would you like for 
breakfast?"

He didn't need any more invitation.  He bent his head to 
capture her lips with his.  "What I'm about to have for 
dessert."

Kissing, they fumbled their way to her bedroom.  Just the 
sight of that bed made him unbearably excited.

She broke her mouth from his.  "This is the only rule we'll 
toss," she said firmly.

He shook his head.  "Whatever you say, Scully."

"I love how sex makes you so docile, Mulder," she said, 
pulling her shirt over her head and flinging it aside.

As they fell on the bed, Mulder had a brief flash of what 
Scully's reaction would be if she really knew what was 
going on in his head.  But then her hot little mouth closed 
over his nipple, and he forgot everything but the woman in 
his arms.

~~~~~~~~
Chapter Five
~~~~~~~~

Office of Dr. Audrey Lake
September 21
10:01 a.m.

Scully had arrived early for her appointment this morning 
and was ushered in immediately.  Audrey seemed eager to get 
started.

The psychologist took a sip of water.  "Now, last week you 
were telling me about the new direction your relationship 
with your partner had taken.  Our time was unfortunately 
cut short - did you want to continue with that?"

"Yes, I do," Scully answered decisively.  "To be honest, 
it's the reason why I decided to seek...outside help."

Audrey smiled kindly.  "I thought so.  Please continue.  
Talk about whatever you like, whatever's on your mind."

"Last time I told you we tried to distance ourselves from 
what was happening in a deliberate way.  Establishing rules 
and such.  We - I - thought this would make distance 
=possible=."

Dr. Lake nodded.  "You didn't find this to be the case?"

"We tried to make it impersonal.  But no, I didn't find 
this to be the case at all," Scully shared miserably.

"Impersonal sex?  That's what you were aiming for?"

"Yes...no.  I don't know.  I agreed because it was what 
Mulder wanted and I thought I could go along with it.  I 
think I was hoping that in the process of pretense, I could 
learn to want what Mulder wanted."  She took a deep breath.  
"Or, I hoped circumstances would eventually change on their 
own, making it so that I wouldn't need to learn it."

"Change how?"

Scully was silent, contemplating her next words.  "That we 
would...that Mulder would...that Mulder and I - I don't 
know."

"Of course you do."  The other woman's voice was kind but 
firm.

Scully swallowed.  She felt rather like the times she'd 
been caught by her mother lying, and she did now what she 
did whenever that happened: she spilled her guts.  "I 
suppose I hoped that our physical intimacy would carry over 
to our pre-existing relationship.  That we would combine 
the two."

Audrey nodded.  "That's only natural.  You care about him 
outside the realm of your sexual relationship.  What is he 
to you, Dana?"

Scully's response was automatic.  "A colleague...a 
friend...a partner."  Audrey waited.  "A very prominent 
figure in my life," she finished in a low voice.

"I'm told by several sources that partners in law 
enforcement are often closer than a husband and wife.  Do 
you believe this to be true?"

Scully sucked in a breath, looking down.  "I wouldn't know.  
I've never been married."

"That's a very pragmatic answer, Agent Scully."  The 
unusualness of Audrey using such a formal title when she 
normally called her "Dana" caused Scully's head to swivel 
up to look at the other woman.  Audrey met her gaze 
unwaveringly.

Scully flushed and looked away again.  Usually during a 
session she trained her gaze down, or to a point on the 
wall behind the psychologist.  She found it difficult to 
look directly at another person while she was baring her 
feelings; she supposed it was a natural protective 
instinct.

"There's a 'but,' isn't there?" Scully asked wryly.

"But," Dr. Lake smiled, "you understand the basic 
institution of marriage and generally what a marriage 
requires.  You've been exposed to marriages and probably 
have heard many secondhand stories about it.  I think you 
can give a better answer than that."

"Yes," Scully answered finally, "I do believe that in 
=some= cases partners in law enforcement are closer than a 
husband and wife in =some= marriages.  But that would 
depend on the marriage."

"True," Audrey conceded.  "But that would have to be some 
bond.  Most people spend their days working and spend only 
nights and weekends with their spouses.  Now, in some 
occupations - such as law enforcement - even that is iffy.  
Rarely would a situation occur where one or the other has 
to make any decisions about his or her spouse's continuing 
existence on the planet.

"Partners, however, depend on the other in life or death 
situations, and spend most of their waking hours with each 
other.  Time spent together, combined with that kind of 
dependence and trust, would make almost any other 
relationship pale in comparison.  At least," the older 
woman took a sip of water, "that's my personal view."

Scully's mouth had dropped open during the spiel.  She'd 
never heard Audrey speak so at length.  It was probably a 
bit unorthodox, but Scully found it refreshing.  It made 
her feel as though she was only engaging in conversation 
with another person, instead of being stared at and 
dissected like a bug under a microscope.

"I'm sure you're right," Scully conceded huskily.  "I think 
that in most instances, exceptionally sound marriages 
apart, partners have a special connection, one that is as 
strong if not stronger than most marriages."

Audrey nodded.  "Dana, I don't believe you explicitly 
stated one way or another the last time we met, but you and 
Mulder are still involved in this no-strings-attached 
physical relationship, am I correct?  At least, on the 
surface?"

Scully nodded her confirmation.

Audrey seemed to hesitate a bit before posing her next 
question.  "Dana, do you believe that you and Mulder have 
one of those partnerships?"

Scully was somewhat taken aback by the question, although 
it shouldn't have been unexpected.  That's where all this 
was leading, of course - back to her and Mulder.  Well, did 
they?  She trusted him with her life and she knew the 
opposite to be true, but did that really mean anything?  
They were both officers of the law and honorable 
individuals; they had sworn to protect and uphold the law, 
and knew that at any given moment they might be called upon 
to give up their own lives for somebody else.

So was their relationship merely the co-worker equivalent 
of what their jobs entailed anyway, or was it something 
more intimate?

"I would like to think that we do," she answered.  Whether 
they did or not was another question.

"You realize by saying this you are implying that you do 
not expect a future relationship to surpass what you have 
with Agent Mulder."

Scully bit her lip.  That =was= what she was saying, wasn't 
it?  It seemed so perfectly innocent when approached from 
one side - do you trust your partner?  Do you have an 
intense understanding of one another?  Do you have a unique 
connection to one another?  To all the questions the answer 
was yes.

But when approached from another angle, the questions were 
altered yet inherently the same - and much more dangerous.  
Do you trust anybody else the way you trust your partner?  
Will anybody ever be able to understand you the way your 
partner does?  If your connection is unique, doesn't that 
mean that there is and can be no other like it?

"Yes, I realize this," Scully said.  "Nobody else could 
ever mean what Mulder means to me," she finally whispered.

There was a moment of silence as Audrey considered Scully's 
answer.

Scully tried not to watch the clock; she knew it was rude, 
but she was supposed to meet Mulder after her session 
today.  Normally it was fine if she ran late, but she 
didn't want him questioning her tardiness this time.  If he 
knew that she'd been seeing Audrey, it would bring up too 
many questions, with answers he didn't want.  It would also 
force a confrontation she wasn't ready for.

However, chances were great that he wouldn't even notice.  
He always seemed to be in a different world when playing 
basketball with his friends.

"These...parameters the two of you set.  You said they have 
all been broken."

Scully was momentarily thrown by the change in subject, but 
was relieved to leave the intense personal scrutiny behind.  
"Yes."

"I see."  Scully watched as the older woman jotted a few 
notes onto her pad of paper.

"I broke a rule first," Scully blurted, as if she were in 
confession.  "What I mean to say is, I initiated the first 
rule breaking."

"Why?"

"I...missed him," she said, flushing.  "I was...it had been 
a week since the first time we ever...had relations, and I 
wanted to have sex with him."  Might as well get it out 
there.  "I thought about it all the time.  I knew he was 
going to come over for our weekly dinner, so I told myself 
I could have him then.  It helped me get through the days 
at the office.

"I suppose, subconsciously, I wanted to break down the 
barriers, even as we constructed them."  She gave a small 
laugh.  "But you know all about subconscious motivations."

"I don't know yours," Audrey replied with a smile.  "It's 
good to be aware of the factors that prompt our actions, 
Dana.  Don't feel the need to hold back what you think were 
your motivations.  It's important for me - and especially 
you - to hear them."

Scully nodded and took a deep breath.

"I take it you felt the rule was dispensable?"

Again, Scully nodded, and gave a little smile.  "At the 
time, =extremely= dispensable."  She and Audrey both 
laughed.  It felt good to be able to talk about this with a 
little brevity.  "The rule was that we weren't supposed to 
do the deed at our apartments.  But since we started having 
sex to relieve stress, it seemed rather ludicrous to have 
limitations on location.  Stress can strike anytime, 
anywhere."  Of course, that sounded more like an excuse 
than anything.  "Well, that's how I rationalized it to 
myself," she amended.

"It certainly can," Audrey agreed, amusement coloring her 

voice.  "The next 'rule' that was broken - when was that, 
and at whose instigation?"

Scully immediately relaxed.  This was already done, in the 
past; this she could handle.  She thought for a moment.  
"About a week and a half after the first one."

"And what did this rule entail?"

"Well...I told you that we had originally planned to make 
our sexual...er - transgressions as impersonal as 
possible."

"I heard you say that, yes."

"We thought it best if, during the sexual act, we didn't 
say one another's names."

Audrey's eyebrows rose.  "And it had worked up until that 
point?"

Scully flushed a little.  "It had been difficult, for both 
of us, I think, but yes.  After the first encounter and 
making up the rules, there was only that one time at my 
apartment when we had to exercise this restraint before we 
broke another rule.  Well, it wasn't =one= time but it was 
one occasion - "  Scully stopped abruptly as she realized 
she had probably said more than Audrey needed to hear.

Mortification threatened to overheat her face until she 
heard Audrey chuckle.  She started in surprise.

"Dana, I'm quite aware of the various forms sex can take 
on.  Stop being so self-conscious - I'm not a priest."  
Audrey chuckled again, filled with mirth.  "You're making 
me feel like an old woman."

Scully found herself smiling sheepishly in response.  "I'm 
sorry.  That isn't what I meant to do.  I just find it hard 
to speak openly about this to someone who isn't - "  She 
hesitated, then plunged ahead.  " - Mulder."  So why hadn't 
she spoken about it to him, then?  Maybe she was afraid to 
realize exactly how little this meant to him.

"Oh, to have the benefits of youth and vigorous physical 
training on your side," Audrey sighed wistfully.  "So...you 
were telling me about how you and your partner could no 
longer hold back shouting out each other's names in 
ecstasy," she said with a straight face.

God, would she ever stop blushing?  Audrey had apparently 
forgotten her question about who had been the one to 
instigate the breaking of this rule, and Scully was rather 
relieved.  Okay, so it had been her...but she'd been in the 
throes of mindless passion at the time.  Surely she 
couldn't be blamed all that much.

It had been another rule that had a sound theory behind it, 
but when put into practice was simply unfeasible.  She was 
certain it would have been broken sooner or later, so it 
really didn't matter whether it was she or Mulder who had 
initiated that particular transgression.

Besides, it'd been getting rather ridiculous.  What were 
they supposed to do?  It's a natural inclination to utter 
your sexual partner's name while making love.  Should they 
have made up names?  Remained mute?

There was never any regret on her part that that rule had 
been tossed to the wind.  And it was highly doubtful Mulder 
had been fond of it, either.

She'd done them both a favor.

~~~~~~~~
Chapter Six
~~~~~~~~

Residence of Mrs. Elliot Treadahe
August 4
5:12 p.m.

They stepped out into the bright sunlight, Mulder donning 
his sunglasses and Scully following suit.

"So what do you think, Scully?"

All she seemed capable of concentrating on was his lower 
lip.  Throughout their interview with Mrs. Treadahe, Scully 
had been unable to focus on the questions being asked.  She 
was grateful Mulder hadn't seemed to notice that he'd been 
picking up her slack.

It was ridiculous that the only thing she'd been aware of 
as he'd spoken to the interviewee, and now, as they 
conversed in front of their rental car, was that lower lip 
of his.  Well, =he= was conversing.  She was merely staring 
from behind her sunglasses.

The lip was plump and slightly swollen from being chewed 
on.  He had recently run his tongue over it, so it 
glistened, slightly moist.  She had the almost 
uncontrollable urge to stand on her tip-toes, lean over, 
and suck it right into her mouth.

"Scully?"

She reluctantly dragged her gaze from her perusal of his 
lip when her name emanated from his mouth.

"What, Mulder?"  She was thankful she had followed his lead 
and put on her sunglasses.  He couldn't know what was so 
preoccupying her.

"You okay there?"  He was the very model of concern.  "You 
were saying you thought you had a fever."  He drew closer, 
arm half-raised, no doubt intending to check on that 
himself.

She backed away before he could reach her.  The last thing 
she needed was for him to touch her in her current state.  
The way she was feeling right now, she was liable to throw 
him to the ground and wrestle him for possession of his 
tongue.

And that was against the rules.  Most definitely against 
the rules.  Maybe not against a specific rule, but against 
the spirit of the rules in general.  Oh - and they were on 
a case.  Right.

"I'm fine, Mulder."  She was proud of the way her voice 
came out cool and collected.  Her gaze fell to the strong 
column of his neck, so ready to be nibbled on.

He dropped his arm.  "All right.  So what do you think?"

Damn.  What had he been saying?  She was loathe to reveal 
the extent of her absorption with assets of his that had 
nothing to do with his mind.  Unfortunately, there was no 
help for it.  She hadn't a clue to what he wanted her 
response.

"I'm sorry.  I wasn't listening."  She adjusted her 
sunglasses.  "Run it by me again?"

Surprisingly, Mulder made no comment, simply repeating what 
he had just said.  "The lab results and forensics report 
are pretty clear.  I've found nothing out of the ordinary.  
Mrs. Treadahe seems a few sandwiches short of a picnic, and 
I don't think a poltergeist is involved.  Seems like a 
simple arson case to me.  No X-File."

She nodded her agreement.  Not an X-File.  Which meant, 
technically, that they were no longer on a case.  Which 
meant...she couldn't stop the flutter of excitement that 
arose in her stomach.

"We'll go speak to the sheriff and tell him our conclusion, 
then I'll books us flights out for tomorrow.  What do you 
feel like for dinner?"  Mulder was always worried about his 
stomach.

"Whatever's fine."

They headed toward their rented Taurus.  Mulder was 
driving, and not for the first time, Scully was grateful.  
She was little too keyed up at the moment to drive, and 
looked forward to some contemplation time.

Neither brought up the fact that it was still early evening 
and they could probably get a flight out that night with 
very little problem.  If they'd wanted to leave.

~~~~~~~~

Motel 6, Room 9
August 4
9:21 p.m.

Scully rose out of her bath, reaching for a towel.  After 
she pulled the plug to drain the tub, she began to pat 
herself dry.  The bath had relaxed her somewhat, but now 
that she was no longer ensconced in bubbles, she felt a 
twinge of the same anxiety that had prompted her desire for 
a bath in the first place.  She'd taken one even though the 
tub was small and cramped, not ideal for bathing.

Sighing, she hung the towel back onto the rack.  Now that 
she was all sweet-smelling and clean, what the hell was she 
going to do?  Barge into Mulder's room, where he was no 
doubt entertaining himself with filmed versions of what she 
wanted to do with him, and announce that fact?  Or wait 
until he came to her?

She honestly didn't know if she could wait that long.  She 
had been feeling restless and horny all day, and if she had 
to wait until =Mulder= made a move she could well be facing 
hours of frustration.

Yet Mulder had been the one to make the first move and got 
this whole thing rolling, while she had been paralyzed with 
indecision.

Well, no more.  Now that they had crossed that line, she 
didn't feel the need to hide her desires the way she used 
to.  Still, what was wrong with her, anyway?  She'd never 
been quite so desperate for sexual attention from a man.  
And why Mulder?  Sure, for six years her dreams and the 
occasional fantasy had revolved around him, but that was 
because he was a good-looking man, intelligent and 
challenging, and practically the only male she ever spent 
time with on a regular and significant basis.  But surely, 
now that he had been attained, her desire should have been 
doused somewhat?

She was not of the mind to do any real analysis.  All she 
wanted was Mulder's cock - which, incidentally, she had 
become quite infatuated with - and those lips of his 
pressed upon her body.

Yet simple pride kept her from throwing open the connecting 
door clad in only her birthday suit only to find him 
sprawled fully dressed on his bed watching TV.

She wanted him to want her as much as she wanted him.  The 
only way she would know that for sure was to wait until he 
made the first gesture.  Pulling on a robe, she went into 
the bedroom and sat down on the bed to wait.

After about ten minutes, she got bored and switched on the 
TV.  Flipping through the channels, she finally stopped on 
some adult channel where a woman with enormous breasts was 
having sex with a man who needed some major grooming in 
Scully's opinion - and she wasn't talking about the hair on 
his head.

She changed the channel.  A nature film, the narrator 
cheerfully explaining that it was mating season for this 
particular species of toad, and Scully was then subjected 
to the sight of the two horny toads - and she wasn't 
talking about the species.

Everybody's getting some but me, she thought morosely.

Sighing, she went over to her suitcase and took out a 
bottle of nail polish.  If he didn't show up soon, she was 
going to paint her toenails.  She set the bottle down on 
the small bedside table, then took one of the pillows and 
propped it up against the headboard.  She settled against 
it, half-sitting and half-lying on top of the sheets.

"Scully?"  There was a tentative knock on the connecting 
door, Mulder's voice muffled behind it.

Finally.  But it wouldn't do to appear too eager.  She 
could be just as cool and detached about this as he.  
"Yes?"

"Can I come in?"

Don't ask, just do it! she thought with aggravation.  Her 
voice, however, was perfectly calm when she spoke.  "Sure."

The connecting door opened slowly, an inch at a time, as if 
he was afraid he was interrupting something he shouldn't.  
Once he spied her on the bed, however, the door swung open 
with a loud bang against the wall.  Scully winced.

"Sorry," Mulder mumbled.  He was wearing a Knicks t-shirt 
with torn sleeves and sweatpants.

He looked utterly delectable to Scully, but she casually 
trained her vision on the TV.  She wouldn't have been able 
to tell anyone what she was watching, though.  She was too 
aware of Mulder's presence in her room.  Oh, well.  It 
wasn't as if she'd be quizzed on it.

"What'cha watching?"

Oh, damn you, Mulder.  "Uh - "  There were pelicans on the 
screen.  "The nature channel."  Whew.  Good save, Agent 
Scully.

She suddenly felt very warm and wanted to shed some 
clothing to ease the discomfort, but then remembered that 
the robe was the only thing she was wearing.  While the 
prospect of getting naked with Mulder was infinitely 
pleasing, she wasn't about to stand up and simply drop the 
robe to the floor.  She felt too self-aware at the moment, 
not to mention that she didn't feel the least bit sensual 
or provocative.

It rather felt like she was on her first date, wanting to 
be kissed but lacking the know-how to go about initiating 
it.  And it didn't help that her "date" was currently 
staring at his feet as if they were incredibly fascinating 
- more fascinating than the half-naked woman on the bed.

"What'cha doin'?"

"Nothing."

He made a move toward the bed, placing first his hands upon 
the cover, then hauling his large frame completely onto it 
to settle next to her.

Scully's heart beat a little faster.  Here it comes, she 
thought.  If she had been some heroine in a bad romance 
novel she would have demanded that he ravish her 
immediately.  Instead she said, "You're a big lug, you know 
that, Mulder?"  The bed had shrunk two sizes.

"What have I told you about the flattery, Scully?"  Mulder 
retorted sarcastically.

She didn't know why she felt so damnably awkward.  She 
certainly hadn't felt awkward the last time they'd done 
this - she'd devoured him as soon as he'd entered her 
apartment.  But there was the difference, she supposed; 
she'd felt comfortable in her apartment, in control.  She 
had decided upon a course of action and simply plunged 
right in.

This was a little different.  It didn't feel spontaneous, 
yet neither of them knew what the plan was.  She didn't 
want to be the only one who wanted to test the boundaries.

"You're into the nature channel, Scully?"

The sound of Mulder's voice so close to the sensitive area 
of her ear caused her to give an involuntary jump.  She 
smoothed a damp palm against the material of the robe, 
hoping to cover her reaction.

But he had noticed it, she realized, when she looked at him 
out of the corner of her eye and saw a pleased little smirk 
on his face.

"It's very educational," she replied.

"You don't have to pretend.  I know you haven't really been 
watching."  Boy, one uncontrolled physical response and the 
man was reeking arrogance!

"Shows what you know," she snapped.  "They were talking 
about...frogs mating."  Ha!

"Uh," he said, in a tone that made her want to clobber him, 
so full of condescension, "the humping toads were on when I 
first came in.  They've gone on to at least four other 
animals since then."

Her first thought was, *he said 'humping.'*  Focus, woman, 
focus!

"That one was the most interesting," she answered, feeling 
a hot flush creep up her neck.

"Mm hmm."  She jumped again as the deep throaty purr seemed 
even closer to her ear, so close that she had not heard so 
much the sound but felt the vibration of his utterance.  
She froze when she felt Mulder's nose touch her ear.

"I've often wanted to learn more about the mating habits 
of...frogs."  She struggled for some semblance of 
nonchalance.

"They were toads," he whispered, his breath tickling her 
ear, causing goosebumps to appear all over her flesh.

"Oh," she responded breathlessly.  Mulder began to rub his 
nose back and forth against her ear, causing her toes to 
curl in pleasure.

"Are you wearing anything under that robe?" he murmured.  
His breath was hot against her ear, and he flicked his 
tongue against her earlobe, warm and wet.  Tremors of 
anticipation shot through her.  She wanted to feel more of 
his tongue against her ear, so she pressed it against his 
face.

He chuckled.  "You haven't answered my question."  But he 
obligingly sucked her earlobe into his mouth, nipping and 
biting lightly.

She moaned, writhing a little on the bed.  One leg came up 
so that her foot rested against the bedcover, causing the 
material of the robe to slide down, exposing one bare thigh 
to practically the junction of her legs.

Mulder caught the movement, and there was no doubting the 
tremor in his own voice as he said, "Well, that was a very 
demonstrative way to answer."

To her delight, one of his hands immediately went to her 
exposed knee and began a trail up her leg, higher and 
higher to the soft skin of her inner thigh.  She shivered 
at the sensation of his slightly callused hand gliding up 
her skin, promising soon to be where she wanted it most...

Though she was expecting it, the sensation of his fingers 
there at her center nearly made her vault off the bed in 
surprise.  One of her hands went involuntarily to his 
wrist, as if to stop him, and he went still.

She loosened her grip, instead trailing her fingers over 
the back of his hand until she reached his fingertips.  She 
looked into his face then, and saw that he was watching her 
intently.  Their gazes locked and held as she pressed one 
of his fingers into her.

There they were, in a Motel 6, dressed in ratty clothes, 
the nature channel blaring from the TV, and she was having 
an unbelievably erotic experience.  The feel of his finger 
pressing up into her was incredible - and she could hardly 
wait for something more substantial.  It was the connection 
of their eyes that made it all so much more intimate, 
however.

Quickly, Mulder moved in between her legs, his head dipping 
low to get a better view of what his finger was doing.

"You're so wet," he murmured.  "Already."  There was no 
hiding how pleased he was.  "Mmm, and you smell good too.  
Want to...taste you."  He removed his finger, eliciting a 
small whimper of disappointment from her - but then his 
tongue was there, searching her folds, and she quickly 
voiced her approval.

But when she would have said his name, she bit her lip.  
That was not allowed.  She just had to pretend that it was 
not Mulder who was doing these things to her, but a random 
man.  A random, sexy stranger she had picked up out of 
nowhere because she felt like having sex.  He just happened 
to look a lot like her partner.

She felt oddly bereft, even as her lover's lips and tongue 
were bringing her to new heights of ecstasy.  She felt 
strangely alone.  That had to be changed.

"Stop," she commanded huskily, sitting up.

He only looked at her in confusion, the beginnings of hurt 
starting to show on his face.

"Let's do this together."  Her hands went to the belt of 
her robe, clearly intending to remove it.  She gestured to 
his clothes.  A grin spread across his face.

"Whatever you say, Sc - " he stopped, a sad look stealing 
over his face.  But then he brightened.  "I never refuse 
when a woman asks me to take my clothes off."  He stripped 
of his shirt with glee and tossed it carelessly to the 
floor.

She raised an eyebrow, feeling a touch of possessiveness 
about him even though she knew he was joking.  "And how 
often is that, M - ?"  That was a close one.

"Oh, all the time...all the time.  Don't you see them 
throwing themselves at me?" he teased.  He leaned forward 
to kiss her sweetly.

"If you mean Kersh's secretary, the next time I see her I'm 
gonna - "

"Ooh, what?"  His eyes were twinkling with delight.  "You 
would fight over me?"

She smiled.  "Of course not.  The next time I see her I'm 
gonna tell her you're not worth it."

His face fell, but she could see that he was amused.  "Not 
even a little bit?"

"Not...even...a...little...bit," she answered, punctuating 
her words with kisses.  The last one initiated a kiss that 
continued for quite some time.  They weren't touching 
except for their mouths, and Scully wanted to remedy that 
as quickly as possible.

She shrugged the robe completely off, glad to be rid of the 
thing that was keeping her from feeling Mulder's skin on 
hers.  She placed her arms on Mulder's strong shoulders and 
wrapped them around his neck.  She then plastered herself 
against him, delighting in the way he felt against her skin 
and her breasts in particular.

He apparently liked it as well, because he groaned into her 
mouth and wrapped his arms tightly around her, bringing her 
even closer to him.

God, it was such an amazing feeling to be naked, at least 
from the chest up, with Mulder, kissing the life out of 
each other.  He tasted so good...he smelled so good...he 
felt so good...and she herself had never felt better.

But there was something slightly amiss.  She wasn't feeling 
=all= of him.  She realized he still had his sweats on.

She couldn't get her arms down to his pants with his arms 
around her so tight, so she had no choice but to make him 
aware of it verbally.  The problem was that when she tried 
to pull away from his kiss, those same arms held her in 
position.

She placed two hands against his face and forcefully drew 
his head away as she pulled back, so that their lips 
disconnected with a loud pop.

She couldn't help but grin at the slightly dazed look on 
his face.  His eyes were still closed almost all the way 
and his lips were still slightly puckered.

"Scuh - ?"  She clamped one hand over his mouth so that he 
wouldn't break the rule, and smiled at him.

"You're still wearing your pants.  That's cheating."

The heat in his gaze brought her temperature up a few 
degrees.  "Well let me take them off, by all means.  
Wouldn't want to be accused of foul play."

They moved away from each other reluctantly, Scully feeling 
an unwelcome blast of cold air from the ventilation system.  
It did cool her off a little, however, and she was better 
able to appreciate the sight of Mulder stripping off his 
clothing with eyes unfogged by the drugging lust that 
normally overtook her when in his arms.

He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his sweats and 
removed them swiftly.  Next went his boxers; he slowly 
tugged downward on the material until his jutting erection 
sprang free.  His underwear joined his sweats on the floor.

Scully immediately reached for his arousal, being as she 
was rather obsessed with it.  He seemed more than happy to 
oblige her, however, returning to the bed and kneeling on 
the mattress.

Before she even knew she was going to do it, she had taken 
the tip of him between her lips.

"Aauhgh, don't do that!" Mulder exclaimed in distress, 
jerking back so that he popped right out of her mouth.

"What?  Why not?"  Scully was rarely denied what she 
wanted, and this unexpected rejection was rather 
aggravating.  She could still taste him in her mouth, but 
the flavor was quickly dissipating.  She wanted it back.

He was breathing rather rapidly, and his hands were in 
front of his groin, as if shielding his poor mistreated 
penis from her uncouth and unwanted aggression, Scully 
thought in irritation.

"I can't...concentrate when you do that."

"I'm not asking you to write a dissertation here, Mu - "  
His eyes widened and she closed her mouth abruptly.

"I know, but it's my turn."  Was that a whine she heard in 
his voice?  "You said I could," he fairly accused.  "You 
promised."  Yep, definitely getting whiny.

"Oh, all right," she said grudgingly.  Not that she was 
opposed to this idea of Mulder performing cunnilingus on 
her, of course.  But she did so like having him in her 
mouth.  And this was a new experience for her.  She had 
never liked it before - ever.  Yet with Mulder, he hadn't 
even been the one to insist on it before she had eagerly 
fallen to the task.

"Well, I suppose we could compromise," he said 
thoughtfully.

"What do you mean?"  She looked at him suspiciously, then 
felt a flood of warmth between her legs as she realized 
what he meant.  This was exciting in so many ways, not the 
least of which was that she had never done it before.  
"Okay, how is this gonna work?  You being the big lug that 
you are?"

"You're really going to hurt my feelings one of these 
days."

She smiled.

He moved, settling against the pillow propped up by the 
headboard where she had been lying previously, sliding 
about halfway down.  He flashed her a quick grin.  "Problem 
solved."

She was dubious, and it showed on her face.

"You just worry about your end, and I'll take care of my 
end," Mulder said patiently.  She could tell he was trying 
not to grin madly at his meaning.  "Now, back into me."

"What!  I'm not backing into you."  The very idea seemed 
undignified to her.

"Fine.  Do it however you like.  But I'm not backing down 
about this."

"Did I ask you to?" she snapped.  Finally, the only 
foreseeable alternative was to straddle herself high on his 
chest and gradually go on all fours.  So, that was what she 
did.

He was now within reach, and she licked her lips in 
anticipation.

"Wait!  Don't start yet!"  The loud cry nearly gave her a 
heart attack.

She turned her head to look behind her and see what the 
holdup was.  He was struggling, wrestling with the pillow, 
and finally he just propped himself up by his elbows.

"Well?"  She raised an eyebrow.

"Hold on."  More struggling, until he was settled once 
again back against the pillow, at the perfect height for 
his mouth to reach her without having to lean forward.  
"Now, when I tell you, can you back up a little?"

She turned back to take in the object of her hunger.  "I 
suppose so."  Less for her, but not that much.

"Okay then."

She felt his hands against the backs of her thighs, sliding 
up toward her feminine core.  She felt his thumbs parting 
her folds, and knew without a doubt that he was studying 
her.  She had never felt so exposed in her life.

It was a great feeling.

And then his mouth was on her, and it was as if she had 
been dunked into a well of sensation.  Electric shocks were 
coursing through her body so fast that she could hardly 
identify where they were coming from.

In automatic response, her mouth latched onto his cock.  
Mmmm.  She could hear him groaning behind her, but she 
couldn't concentrate on anything but the wonderful 
sensations his lips and tongue were rousing, and the fact 
that she had Mulder's thick cock in her mouth.

She suckled strongly at him, and felt his response as he 
stabbed his tongue into her.  It was a curious mix of 
attack and retaliation, each trying to force the other over 
the edge first.

She laved her tongue all around him, concentrating on the 
tip; he teased her clit with his tongue.  She took him deep 
into her throat; he stabbed two fingers into her, pumping 
roughly.

The influx of sensation was amazing.  He was making her 
feel so good, and she realized she was making him feel the 
same way, which made her feel good again.  And she loved 
tasting him in her mouth.  A win-win situation all around.  
It was undoubtedly one of the most arousing sexual acts she 
had ever performed, and she wondered why she had never done 
it before.  Of course, she had never enjoyed giving blow 
jobs before, either.  Obviously, it was all because of 
Mulder.

She couldn't stop the thought as it came unbidden to her 
mind.  Shit, shit, shit.  It was not supposed to matter 
that it was Mulder, damn it.  He's just a guy.

But the taste she had in her mouth - it was so familiar.  
So familiar because breathing deeply, she smelled him.  And 
he smelled like her partner.  He smelled the way he smelled 
on a hundred stakeouts when she had fallen asleep on his 
shoulder.  He smelled the way he did when he got too close 
to her, explaining one of his theories.  He smelled the way 
Mulder smelled when he'd leaned in close to kiss her cheek 
as she lay on a hospital bed.

This was that same scent, only earthier, muskier; it was 
raw Mulder, promised to her senses many times but never 
actually fulfilled until she had had him that first time in 
her apartment.

This =was= Mulder, and that was why everything was 
heightened; better.

He chose that moment to press his tongue hard against her 
clit, circling forcefully, and contemplation took flight.  
All she saw and felt were stars, exploding all around her.  
She couldn't even concentrate on what she was doing with 
her mouth.  Her arms felt rubbery, alien, as if they were 
not really attached to her body.

It came as no surprise to either of them when her arms 
finally gave out and she collapsed onto him, his erection 
leaving her mouth with a twitch of disappointment.

For a long time there was nothing except for the sounds of 
two people trying to slow their intake of breath.

"That was fun," Mulder said finally.  Scully was eye-level 
with his cock, still hard and huge and throbbing with 
blood.  He could see that she was looking at it, of course, 
and his reflexive swallow was audible.

"Yes, it was," she said.  His dick moved in response to the 
warm caress of her breath.

She finally called up the strength to haul herself up and 
straddle him face-to-face.  For a long time they just 
looked at each other, a thousand conversations flying back 
and forth in their gazes.  Scully dipped her head and 
touched her lips to his.  The kiss immediately deepened.  
She could taste herself on him and knew that he could taste 
himself on her, and for a long while the mingling of these 
flavors was the only purpose they had in life.

When Scully pulled away, it was to gasp for air.  "I 
think..." she rasped, "I think it's time we took care of 
your little problem."

He looked vaguely insulted that she had called his raging 
erection a "little" problem, but was not quite fully 
coherent enough to voice any objection.  He did, however, 
locate enough cognizance to sit up and adjust his position 
better suited for what was coming next.  So to speak, she 
snickered to herself.  God, this habit of making bad puns 
had to have come from Mulder.

Bracing her hands on his shoulders, adjusting the position 
of her legs, she slid down on him an inch at a time.  She 
could feel her muscles expanding, adjusting to the foreign 
object invading her body, and she was glad they had taken 
the time for foreplay or this would have been more 
uncomfortable.  Two prior experiences had not gotten her 
body used to him yet, but if she was honest, the discomfort 
was pleasurable as well.

It was the intimacy of the act, however, that she enjoyed 
most.

Mulder had his eyes closed and was biting his lower lip; 
the sight sent a shiver of desire racing through her body.  
She loved it when he did that.

At last, there was nowhere else for him to go, and he let 
out a hiss of breath.  "God, you're so tight, Sc - "  He 
stopped himself.

She was a little annoyed that he still had the presence of 
mind to think about =rules= when he was fully sheathed 
inside her as far as he could go.  And this was not an easy 
thing for a woman of her size to do - accommodating a big 
lug like him.

"You think so, huh?"  She gave his shoulders a little 
squeeze.  "Did you know I can be even tighter?"  She 
clenched her inner muscles.

"God!"  His eyes flew open.

"Feel good, dearest?"

He panted.  "Ah, I can't remember - you'd better remind 
me."

She did, this time sliding up and down as she did so.  She 
smiled in satisfaction at the long throaty moan she got out 
of him.  So she did it again.  Again.  And again.  Soon she 
was riding him so hard and fast that her muscles began to 
ache and protest loudly.  She kept her inner muscles 
clenched tight, which was tiring, but also made it feel 
incredible for her.

She took her hands from his shoulders and adjusted her 
angle, her hands now resting on his hard stomach.  OH!  The 
new angle hit some funny spot inside her - she had never 
felt that before.  There it was again!

To her amazement she felt herself begin to tighten even 
further, signaling an orgasm.  She had thought for sure 
that the last one was - well, never mind what she thought; 
she had been wrong.  This new spot was the key.  And to 
think in her entire life so far, she hadn't even known it 
existed!

Moving frantically on him, she wondered why the hell he 
hadn't come yet.  She was so close to her second climax, 
and he hadn't even reached his first.  She recalled that 
she wanted to make him lose control, lose that irritating 
presence of mind he was so good at maintaining.  That was 
the whole point of this ride-him-fast-and-hard exercise.

The side bonus of a second orgasm from her exertions had 
momentarily distracted her from this ultimate purpose.

She slowed to a halt, causing the little cries from Mulder 
to stop and elicit a panicked, "Why are you stopping?"

"Not stopping," she explained in a breathy little voice.  
"Just changing pace."  She unclenched her muscles, lifted 
herself until he was almost completely out, then slammed 
back down, reclenching when he was fully inside again.

His bellow rang in her ears, and she blacked out a little 
for a moment, herself.  She performed that move two or 
three more times, until for the last one Mulder 
unexpectedly met her halfway.  He'd been pretty docile up 
to that point, letting her ride him at the pace, depth, and 
strength she wanted.  Now, he came up hard as she was going 
down hard - the result was bone jarring, teeth rattling 
ecstasy.

He erupted into her, shouting "Scully!" like a benediction, 
so loudly her ears rang with the noise.

It wasn't until moments later, feeling the aftershocks of 
her second orgasm that she realized she was chanting, 
"Mulder, Mulder, Mulder."

She was once again crushed against his chest, having 
collapsed upon him.  His arms had immediately gone around 
her and held fast.  She lacked the strength and the 
conviction to do anything about it.

Silence reigned.

A pronouncement: "I think we should toss out that rule."

Coming close on its heels: "I agree."

"It's hardly reasonable not to say names during sex.  'God' 
and 'Jesus' don't count."  Mulder was the voice of reason.

"Nope."  Scully hid a smile.  She'd done it, made him lose 
control.  If she had lost some in the process as well, it 
was a loss well worth the result.

"It would be stupid to make up fake names."

"Ridiculous.  Unthinkable."

There was another moment of silence as this was digested.

Mulder cleared his throat.  "Since that's settled, mind if 
I go take a shower?"

"Not at all."  Her voice was dismissive.

"Uh, Scully?"  Pause.  "You'll have to get off me."

"I already got you off," she replied, snickering.  At his 
groan she rolled away, trying not to feel bereft when he 
slipped out of her body.

She watched him make his way to the bathroom, admiring the 
fine round cheeks of his ass as he walked.  She heard the 
shower go on, and tried not to feel that he was washing her 
off of him.

The area between her legs throbbed, reminding her of her 
recent activity, and realized with a grimace that she was 
going to pay the price for all this pleasure with a lot of 
soreness tomorrow.

She wondered if she ought to put on some clothes.  Where 
was her underwear?  Ah, yes, she hadn't been wearing any 
this time.  At least she wouldn't be hunting madly for them 
as she had the last two times she and Mulder had made love.  
It was odd, but she seemed to have misplaced those pairs.  
Not that she could really say for sure.

The first pair to go missing had undoubtedly in her 
eagerness been flung into some forgotten corner where the 
maid had probably found them.  The second pair was likely 
still in her apartment somewhere - maybe she had tossed 
them into the laundry hamper and forgotten.

She lost this train of thought when she heard the shower 
stop, and then heard the soft, muted sounds of Mulder 
drying off.

He walked back into the room, naked as a jaybird, and 
Scully thought absently that he was magnificent.  Grabbing 
his clothes up from the floor, he quickly redressed.

She watched him with a growing sense of unease.

"Well," he said, not quite meeting her eyes, as if 
embarrassed that she was still unclothed, "good night."

He walked quickly to the connecting doorway, then through 
it to the adjoining room.

He wasn't going to sleep with her?  Scully tried not to 
feel like crying, and failed miserably.  He washed off the 
evidence of their passion, dressed, then went somewhere 
else to sleep?

What had she expected, words of love and promises of 
forever?  She knew she wouldn't be getting those things - 
ever.  They had an agreement and she was breaking it right 
now by wanting more.  Mulder had probably suspected that 
she would get emotional on him, and had wanted to spare her 
the agony of indulging her feelings only to have them lead 
nowhere.

She knew that he was doing what was best, but it didn't 
stop her from resenting him for it.  Or feeling hurt.

Just because he'd spent the night at her place that once 
didn't mean he wanted to sleep together all the time.  
Maybe she was too clingy in her sleep.  Maybe he just 
wanted to sleep in his own bed.  Well, he shouldn't want 
that! the unreasonable part of her argued.  He should want 
to spend the night with you, in the same damn bed!

He doesn't want that and neither should you, she told 
herself, and ignored the wetness trailing down her cheeks.

She got up to turn the room light off, then crawled back 
into bed, burying her face in the pillow he had so recently 
leant against.  She could smell his soap and his sweat, and 
if she concentrated she could still taste him in her mouth.

She didn't shower; she liked the way his scent was all over 
her, saturated into her skin.

She feel asleep with Mulder's redolence surrounding her, 
his face filling her slumberous vision, his essence resting 
safely inside her.

*Go to next chapter*

    Source: geocities.com/solofbi