Raspberry and Lace - Part 8/10
Summary and disclaimers in Part 1

*****

...'Oh, my God. What have I done?'

That was Scully's first coherent thought after the explosion
she had barely survived atop Mulder's desk. Her body was
still trembling with aftershock after aftershock from the
most intense orgasm she had ever experienced in her life.
Mulder's face was buried in her neck, and his penis was just
beginning to slide languidly from her overly sensitized
flesh. 'What had *they* done?'

With weak, exhausted arms, she pushed at his shoulders.
"Mulder?" Her voice was husky, and she felt herself blush
all over as she recalled the screams that had emanated from
her only minutes earlier. "Mulder?" She pushed harder.

He grunted softly and pulled back. She felt him slide all
the way out, and a chill hit her sweaty body as his ceased
its contact with her. "Scully?" he asked, his voice much
stronger than hers and holding more than a touch of concern.
"Are you all right?"

Without looking in his eyes, she nodded. 

He was silent for a moment. Then, with hardness taking over
the concern, asked, "Are you sure?"

She looked up, surprised by the almost angry tone of his
voice. "Mulder, I..." She couldn't continue. What could she
say? Should she tell him she had fantasized about this
moment for years and never believed it would ever happen?
Should she tell him the real thing had been far better than
any of her fantasies? Should she tell him how much she
wished it had never happened?

She pushed away from him and slid off the desk. "I need to
go."

He backed away from her, tugging his jeans back into place
and zipping up the fly. She could feel his eyes on her as
she set out to collect her scattered clothing. Her bra was
draped over the computer monitor. Her panties were tangled
with her torn nylons. Her shirt, the soft, green
short-sleeved sweater she had bought only a week ago, was
lying on the couch were she had been sleeping not thirty
minutes ago. She gathered it all in her arms, holding them
against her still tingling breasts, feeling like an idiot.
Her jacket. Where was her jacket? There. On the arm of the
couch. Her shoes? By the door, a habit she had picked up
from Mulder himself.

Grabbing the jacket, she headed for the door, trying to
create as much distance between her and Mulder as possible.
She could still smell him...all over her. And she could
still feel him. The residue of their loving soaked the
inside of her thighs, and she could still imagine him, hard
and powerful, thrusting into her over and over. She stopped
by the door and dropped everything. Tears began to run
silently down her cheeks. 

He seemed to know she was crying, even through her silence.
He came up behind her and stood there, not touching her.
"What do you want me to say, Scully?" She thought she heard
tears in his voice. "Do you want me to pretend what happened
here was a dream? I don't know if I can do that!"

"I don't..." She cleared her throat. "I don't want it to
change."

"What? What don't you want to change?" He gripped her by the
shoulders and turned her around. "Tell me!"

"Us!"

Mulder's face revealed the internal torment brought about by
her words. "Why does this have to change 'us'?" he demanded.
"You're still my best friend. My partner. My respect and
trust for you will never change."

"Are you sure about that?" she whispered, disbelief filling
her voice.

He let go of her and backed away. "You would willing have
given birth to my child, yet you think it's wrong to share
my bed, is that it?" She winced at the anger and hurt in his
eyes. "Then I guess I'm glad the IVF didn't work, Scully.
Because if we had shared a child, I would have expected us
to share a bed, as well."

"Don't you bring that up!" she argued, holding back her
tears with growing anger.

"Why not?! Did you even give a thought to why I agreed,
Scully? Because, out of the goodness of my heart, I figured
I could play stud horse for my best friend? And not involve
my heart?" He laughed harshly and ran his hand through his
hair. "I love you, Scully. Yes, I wanted you to have that
baby you've always wanted. But I had hoped that you would
want me as part of the deal as well."

"Don't do this, Mulder," she whispered, her anger gone.
"Don't say these things. Please. I can't handle it."

"You can't handle it, huh? Well, then. We better just not
talk anymore tonight." He stepped into her suddenly,
bringing his arms around her and sweeping her right off the
floor. With a soft screech, she grabbed hold of him, feeling
a wave of dizziness hit her as he swung around and headed
for his bedroom. She half expected him to throw her onto the
bed, but instead, he set her down gently. He unzipped her
skirt, the only piece of clothing she still wore, and
slipped it off. 

She pushed herself onto her elbows and watched as he rid
himself of his jeans. Confusion turned to wonder as she
admired his body. He was so perfect. Anger turned to desire
as she noticed he was already regenerating. Fear turned to
love as she recognized the look in his eye. He was waiting.
Waiting for her to welcome him into her body. Into her
heart.

Silently, she opened her arms...


...Mulder felt relief pour through him as he joined her on
the bed. She was confused and scared, and he knew he was
taking advantage of her, but he wanted the final step to be
her choice. The love he saw in her eyes sent a shock wave
right to his chest. For a moment, he knew he had finally
broken through her walls. He wasn't about to let the moment
slip by.

He gently eased himself onto the bed, determined to take it
slow this time. Before, out in the living room, they had had
sex. Wild, uncontrollable, mind-blowing sex. Now, here, in
his bed, he wanted to make love to her. He touched her with
his hands. With his mouth. Breathing her in, tasting her. At
first, she just lay there beneath him, letting him do
whatever he wished. But, it didn't take long for her to
become an active participant, using her own hands and mouth
to investigate his body. More than once, Mulder felt a sense
of unreality about the whole event, as if he was indeed just
having a very real, very erotic dream. For seven years he
had wanted this woman; maybe he had finally lost it. But, if
this was insanity, he would be content to stay insane
forever...


...Scully couldn't believe she was actually touching him.
Tasting him. How many times had she wondered what he felt
like? How many times had she dreamed of running her fingers
through the sparse hair on his beautiful chest? Gradually,
she became bolder, and began touching him below the waist.
Scully wasn't incredibly experienced in the area of sex, but
being a doctor, she knew things about the male body many men
didn't know. Bringing her hand up between his legs to cup
him, she squeezed very softly, smiling as she heard his
answering groan and felt his erection increase by a
significant amount. 

She continued her exploration, tangling her fingers in his
dark hair before she grasped him in a firm grip. His hips
jerked into her hand and she responded by pumping her hand
up and down his length. His breathing harsh, he grabbed her
wrist. "Stop! Not yet!"

She just smiled and continued. He moaned and fell onto his
back. "Scully! Please! I want to be in you."

"You will be," she told him as she leaned over him, taking
one of his nipples into her mouth and sucking lightly. She
rubbed her own breasts against his ribcage and along his
flat stomach. 

"Scully," he whimpered. She felt him expand, ready to
explode, and she released him quickly. Taking her index
finger and thumb, she firmly squeezed him toward the base of
his straining penis. Almost instantly, his erection eased.
He took a deep breath. "How...?"

She smiled again, and moved to straddle him. "I'm 
surprised with all your experience you didn't know 
about that little trick."

"How did you know?" he questioned, his eyes narrowed in
jealousy.

Griping his still erect penis in her hand, she maneuvered
herself over it. "I'm a doctor," she whispered, then lowered
herself onto him. He closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying
the feel of her, then opened them to look at her, the
question still there. She leaned forward and kissed him. "If
it makes you feel any better, I've never actually used that
technique before."

"Good," he mumbled back to her as she began to ride him. He
placed his hands on her hips and helped her ease herself up
and down. She looked down, amazed by how large his hands
looked against her body. Her eyes were drawn to where they
were joined, and again she was impressed by the size of
other body parts. It had hurt when she had first taken him
inside her; it had not only been a long time since anyone
other than a doctor had entered her private recesses, but he
had been impossibly large compared to her petite frame. Yet,
she took him easily now, her body more than welcoming to
his. She quickened her pace.

His hips began to thrust up to meet hers, and his hands had
traveled from her hips up to her breasts. She leaned into
him, moaning uncontrollably at the incredible sensations he
created. He was getting larger inside her, and it felt
wonderful. "Mulder?"

"Yeah?" He was breathing hard now.

"I love you."

Their eyes met, and Scully knew he could see the truth in
hers.

"I'm sorry, Scully," he responded, a soft smile on his face.
"But, nothing is ever going to be the same after this." 

Even while her heart swelled with love for him, it ached at
his words. He was right. And she hated it.

Biting her lower lip, she leaned forward, bracing herself on
his shoulders, and began to thrust down on him hard. He
responded with powerful upward thrusts of his own. She felt
him release himself inside her just as her own body clenched
around him. Together. 'Wow,' she thought. 'I didn't think it
was possible.' She felt a smile spread across her face as
she delighted in the feel of her orgasm, then she let
herself fall onto the heaving chest of the man beneath
her...<<<

They had both fallen asleep with smiles on their faces, but
when Scully woke just before dawn, she had panicked. She had
left the bed and retrieved her clothes before she finally
calmed. And though she dearly wanted to climb back into the
bed with Mulder, she had instead cleaned herself up and
dressed in his bathroom, then left without waking him.

He had called a few hours later. She hadn't answered. He
called again. Still, she didn't answer. Three times he
tried. Three times she ignored him, knowing she was
destroying the best thing that had ever happened to either
of them, but too scared to change things. 

Mulder had understood her silence and had not brought up
that night since. Even after discovering her pregnancy. She
knew she was being childish, hoping he would bring it up
himself when she had been the one to insist it be forgotten.
But, Mulder tended to make her behave childishly. And
Doggett's advice to her earlier in the day had made her want
to talk to Mulder very much. She wanted confirmation that he
believed this child had been conceived that night, too. And,
selfishly, she wanted confirmation that he still loved her.

Though they had ignored the events of that night, their
relationship had changed. She knew that, had she not gotten
sick, something important would have happened in that motel
room on Oregon. If Mulder hadn't been abducted, she was sure
they would have eventually opened up to each other,
especially after discovering her pregnancy. They had never
had that chance.

But they did now. 

Scully rose from her bed in Doggett's guest room and waddled
to the window. She wished this Wallace guy would appear so
she and Mulder could have that talk. Now. Before she lost
the guts to do so. With a self-depreciating sigh and a shake
if her head, she began to turn back toward the bed.
Suddenly, movement from outside caught her attention. She
leaned closer to the window to see better.

Below her, ducking in and out between the bushes at the side
of the yard, was a man.

*****

Night had fallen, and Doggett's house was dark. But, this
didn't stop Charlie from pacing back and forth across the
floor of her bedroom. John's bedroom, she corrected herself.
She didn't know when she had started to think of him as
John, and not Doggett, in her head, but she knew it meant
something. She wasn't sure what, but she hoped she figured
it out before she had to leave.

And yet, she prayed she would be leaving soon.

Leaving here meant that Fox and the other agent had caught
Wallace. It meant she could go home. She sighed heavily,
unsure if that would happen anytime soon. Though she didn't
know the details, she had been told by Dana that there was a
chance Wallace knew where she was. For two nights, she had
slept peacefully in this house. Now, on the third, she
couldn't even bring herself to go to bed. 

With another sigh, she left the room and tread soundlessly
down the stairs. Maybe she could find something to snack on
in the kitchen, and maybe that would help distract her mind
enough for her to sleep. But, in order to get to the
kitchen, she had to pass through the living room, where John
was sleeping. As quietly as she could, she began walking
through the room, not even daring to look at the couch where
the agent lay; she couldn't afford to get distracted.

She had almost reached the kitchen door when his voice
called out from behind her. "Where are you going?"

She stopped, feeling guilt sweep through her, though she
knew she had no reason to feel that way. She turned. "I
can't sleep."

His face was just a pale blur in the dark of the room, but
she didn't have to see him to know he was trying not to
smile. "So you're going to eat instead?"

She put her hands on her hips in a defensive posture. "I
amuse you, don't I?"

He swung his legs over the side of the couch and placed his
feet on the floor. "Well, yeah," he said, as if the answer
should be obvious to everyone. 

With a soft groan of frustration, she turned and walked into
the kitchen, flipping on the light as she did so. Without
pause, she marched over to the refrigerator and opened it
up. She heard him enter the kitchen behind her but didn't
acknowledge his presence.

"Hey, I didn't mean that in a derogatory way, Charlie." His
voice sounded sincere. She glanced at him. He had a little
half smirk on his face. He was also bare chested. She looked
away again, not knowing if it was the smirk or the chest
that caused her to do so.

"I'm so glad you find me entertaining, Agent Doggett," she
said through clenched teeth.

"Charlie?"

She didn't respond. She kept staring into the fridge at
nothing in particular.

"You want to know why I find you so amusing?"

Taking a deep breath, she closed the fridge, turned back to
face him, and folded her arms. "I'm all ears."

"That's my line," he said dryly.

Charlie felt laughter bubble up and barely stopped it by
biting her lower lip. 

"You 'entertain' me because you are so contradictory. I
mean, look at you. You have the body and face of a
supermodel, but you act like a nun. You talk tough, but in
reality, you're more than willing to let others boss you
around."

She opened her mouth to argue, but he stopped her by holding
up his hand. "And the worst part is when you act like you're
attracted to me, then back away when I respond to that. Now,
how am I supposed to act around you? I'm trying to figure
that out, and that's why I'm so 'entertained'."

Charlie was struck speechless. For a moment. "What an ego.
You think I'm attracted to you?"

He took a step toward her. "Aren't you?"

"No!" But she said the word a little too quickly. A little
too forcefully.

He stepped forward again. "I don't believe you," he said
softly. "I think you're as attracted to me as I am to you."

"I am not...!" She stopped suddenly. "What did you just
say?"

"I said I'm attracted to you." He smiled. "That shouldn't be
a surprise. I'm sure I'm not the first."

No. He wasn't. In fact, in high school and college, it had
been one of her strong suits: attracting men like a flower
attracted bees. But Wallace had changed that. With her hair
cut short, no makeup, and dull, unflattering clothes, she
hadn't caused many men to sit up and take notice of her in
the last several years. Which was how she liked it.

"Look," she whispered. "Fox is going to catch Wallace soon.
And when he does, I'm going back to West Virginia and my
life. I'll probably never even see you again." The thought
made her heart ache, but she wouldn't let him know that.
"So, you better give up the flirting and just pretend
I'm..."

"Pretend you're what?" Doggett asked patiently.

"Pretend I'm like a sister. Like Fox does."

He snorted. "I'm sure 'Fox' didn't always look at you like a
sister."

Charlie knew he was probably right. She also remembered how,
as a teenager, she had tried mightily to catch the eye of
her brother's friend. But, he had always been honorable, and
never made any kind of moves on her. And after Wallace, he
had indeed become like another brother, though more distant
than her real one. "That was then. This is now."

"And what's so different about now?"

"Wallace!" she said sharply. She felt her whole body begin
to tremble. "Wallace and what he did to me."

John sighed and moved to sit down at the table. "It's been
almost ten years, Charlie. When are you gonna live again?"

This time, she snorted. "Sounds like you've been talking to
Fox."

John laughed. "The day Mulder and I talk about something
that important is the day I admit to dressing like a woman."

He laughed even harder at Charlie's wide eyes. "It was at a
college Halloween party, Taylor!" 

She smiled, but it didn't last long. John also sobered
quickly. "Anyone can see you're still suffering, Charlie.
Even if they don't know what he did to you."

"If it had been done to you," said quietly, "you would have
a hard time living again, too."

He sighed. "Maybe. But it seems to me a little of that girl
you once were would still be there, fighting to get out."

She shook her head sadly. "The girl I once was wasn't really
that much different than who I am now. I was just a better
actor back then." She clasped her hands together and looked
at the floor. "I was a virgin."

John was silent for a moment. "What?" he whispered.

"I was a virgin when Wallace took me." She clenched her
teeth together, holding her tears at bay. "Not many people
know that. The doctor and nurse that checked me out. Bill
Connor, the Agent in Charge of the case." She shrugged. "I
don't even think Fox knows."

"I'm sorry," Doggett said.

She looked up sharply. "It doesn't really matter, you know?
I mean, I'm sure it was just as horrifying, just as painful
for the women before me. Women who had boyfriends. Who'd had
sex before." She shook her head. "But, I..." She couldn't
continue.

"There's been nobody since?" John's words were soft, full of
compassion. But not pity.

She shook her head. "Not that I haven't thought about it. Or
wanted it." She gave him a false smile. "I'm pretty sure no
one wants a damaged, inexperienced lover."

"I might."

His words sent a shock wave through Charlie. "What?!"

"I can see past the damage, Charlie. To the woman
underneath. She's there. She just needs someone to coax her
out."

"You?"

"If you'll have me."

The sound of footsteps coming down the stairs prevented her
from responding. Not that she knew what she would say. What
exactly was he offering? Or was he just trying to tell her
it was possible for someone to want her, despite her past?
She wasn't going to get an answer tonight, because Dana was
there, her eyes wide and a frown on her face.

"Agent Doggett?"

John stood at the anxiousness in her voice. "What is it?"

"There's someone outside. I saw him from my upstairs
window."

He nodded toward Charlie, and Scully, weapon in hand, walked
across the room in her bathrobe and slippers to stand next
to the younger woman. Doggett flipped off the light and
disappeared back into the living room where Charlie knew his
gun was. They both held their breath, listening as he exited
the house from the front door.

A minute of tense silence filled the little room. Then, a
shout was heard. What sounded like a body hitting the
outside of the house. And more shouting. Scully cautiously
moved toward the front of the house, flipping on lights as
she went. Charlie stuck to her back like a burr.

"Agent Scully?!" John yelled. "I got the bastard! Call the
cops!"

Scully immediately picked up the phone to make the requested
call. Charlie, however, was driven by her morbid curiosity
to the open front door. Slowly, she stepped though. John had
a man pressed up against the wall and was cuffing his hands
behind his back. The captive turned his head to look at her,
his eyes burning. Charlie gasped.

John looked at her sharply. "Charlie?"

"It's not him!" she whispered. "It's not Wallace!"

*****

End 8/10

    Source: geocities.com/virtuesandvices