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From: TBishop27@aol.com
Date: 27 Jun 1999 09:12:14 -0700
Subject: xfc One Night Of Passion   (Prequel to This Never Happened)

From: TBishop27@aol.com

One Night Of Passion
by tbishop27@aol.com
Rating:  A steamy R or a mild NC-17  (It's not for the kiddos, faint of heart 
or easily offended.  The topic is sex here folks.)
Category: MSR-SMUT   M-POV  Angsty
Author's note:  This is a prequel to a recently posted story of mine entitled 
This Never Happened.  One of the responses I received from that piece was a 
very flattering request for an angsty prequel.  I hope this will suffice.  
Read the follow up piece when your done.  It's more fun that way.
Disclaimer:  This Mulder and Scully are mine.  Chris would never let his do 
such things!
Summary:  This one is more of a smut scone.  Devon cream anyone?  Mulder is 
in serious need here folks.  Will he or won't he?
Feedback:  Can't get enough of it!  I love to hear what you think.
Warning:  Flames will be forwarded to that dark part of my writer's 
imagination that roams the night in search of victims.



One Night Of Passion


This is insane.  Of all the spooky things I've ever done in my life this has 
to top the list.  I am sitting here in my car outside of Scully's apartment 
about to go in and seduce her.  That would be Dana Scully, my partner, my 
best friend, my better half.  And lately all I can think about is getting 
horizontal with her and doing the wild thing.  Hell, it doesn't even have to 
be horizontal, I take it any way I can get it.  I need her.  It's gone beyond 
dirty little fantasies and undressing her with my eyes when she's not 
looking.  What I have for this woman can only be adequately described as a 
full blown obsession.  I have a psychology degree, I know about these things. 
 I am obsessed with Scully.  She's the first thing that pops into my head 
when I wake up in the morning and the last thing I think about at night just 
before I drift off to sleep on my lonely little couch.  She's there in my 
dreams.  And in my nightmares too.

Lately, though, the dreams have been of the erotic nature.  Very erotic 
nature.  She and me doing it on the desk in our office, on the elevator at 
the Bureau, in the rental car on our way to a case, my motel room, her motel 
room, A.D. Skinner's office...that one worries me.  You name the place, my 
sick little subconscious has been there, done that...to her.  I haven't had 
wet dreams since I was in high school.  Suddenly I'm a horny, hormone 
charged, seventeen year old kid again.  Well, if that doesn't turn her on, I 
don't know what will.  I know she must sense my lust for her.  Scully is very 
observant.  Even if she happened to miss the longing in my eyes, she couldn't 
have missed the ever-present, and ever embarrassing, bulge in my pants 
whenever she walks into the same room as me.  I shudder to think who else 
might have noticed.  The gossip about the two of us is rampant at work as it 
is, without my anatomy giving evidence to the rumors.  I just can't help it, 
though.  She is one hot G-woman. 

I know a little secret about her that has driven me absolutely crazy ever 
since I first found out.  Scully wears stockings, not pantyhose, under those 
proper little business suits of hers.  I can't look at her perfectly 
sculptured legs anymore without thinking lace garter belt and thigh high 
stockings.  When we sit next to each other in a meeting I find myself 
daydreaming about reaching over and sliding my hand up along one silky leg, 
under her skirt and just a little higher until I reach bare Scully skin so 
soft and warm.  And from there it would only be a little further and...God, I 
want that woman!

So why am I still sitting here in my car?  The same reason I sat here for the 
last three nights and never went in.  I'm a coward.  Do I think she'd reject 
me?  Doubtful.  I'm pretty sure she has her share of unpartnerly thoughts 
about me.  I've caught her looking a time or two.  She's made some suggestive 
comments. And if I wasn't sure before, that batting lesson I gave her for her 
birthday erased pretty much all doubt.  She never once shied away from my 
rather intimate method of instruction.  In fact, I know I wasn't imagining 
the way she kept wiggling that perfect curvy ass of hers against my screaming 
hard on.  Nope.  Scully was definitely sending me a message there.  She wants 
me.  God, I hope she wants me.

Well, there's really only one way to know for sure.  I take a deep breath, 
grab the door handle and freeze.  What am I doing?  I love this woman.  I 
can't live without her.  If I seduce her, that changes everything.  Doesn't 
it?  I don't want Scully to become another Phoebe or Diana.  Another member 
of the women I have known, loved and ultimately been abandoned by club.  If I 
lose her...well I just can't, that's all.  This can't turn into an affair 
because that would surely be the beginning of the end for us.  Where does 
that leave me then?  Do I return home yet again dissatisfied?  Do I continue 
on in this hell of endless unfulfilled concupiscence, yearning for something 
which I can never allow myself to attain?  

What if I am not strong enough to endure this torture indefinitely?  What if 
I snap one day like that serial rapist, Marshall Vincent.  After nearly a 
decade of sexual frustration over a woman he worked closely with, and was 
deeply in love with, this seemingly normal accountant became one of the worst 
serial rapists the windy city had ever known.  Fifty-two victims in four 
months until VCU finally pulled him in.  All of them were tall leggy 
brunettes who wore glasses, just like the woman of Vincent's deepest desire.  
The woman he could never let himself have for fear of driving her away.  God, 
the similarities were unnerving.  I could just as easily slip over the edge 
one day and prey on Scully look a likes.  Sating this desperate longing by 
acting out my fantasies on helpless victims.  It could happen.  It could.  
Just as Vincent had lost that battle with sanity when the torment became 
overwhelming, so could I.  I have to put out this fire within before it 
begins to burn beyond myself.

But how?  An affair with Scully is so risky.  If we become lovers, Scully 
will expect so much more of me than I am capable of.  She will want, and she 
deserves, a man that is her emotional equal.  Someone strong and independent 
like her.  I could never be what she needs me to be and she will wind up 
resenting my weakness, and eventually leave me broken hearted and without a 
reason to live.  And the worst part would be that I would have let her down.  
She would suffer because of my failure.  It could never work out.  It would 
be a horrible mistake.  I couldn't.  I couldn't do that to her.

There is only one option left.

Tonight has to just be a single, albeit incredible wonderful, event.  We will 
give ourselves permission just this once to be ruled by our desires.  One 
hot, passion filled night and then tomorrow we will tell ourselves it never 
happened.  We're good at avoidance, at pretending our feelings don't exist.  
Scully and I have mastered the art of denial when it comes to this subject.  
It'll be like that time in the hallway outside my apartment when we almost 
kissed.  It's been a year now and neither of us has made mention of it.  It's 
locked away in the secret vault of our memories.  It's not, therefore, 
unthinkable to reason a similar end to a night of intimacy between us.  A 
secret never to be told.  A memory to turn to when the ache becomes too 
strong.  What I wouldn't give for the memory of her flesh and mine joined as 
one.  To know Scully in the most profound way possible.  Just once.  That's 
all I'm asking.  One night as lovers and the rest of our lives together as we 
have been, the closest of friends and devoted partners.  We can do this.  

I can do this.  I open the door and slide out of my car into the warm night 
air.  The lights go out in Scully's apartment.  It's late, just after 
midnight.  She's probably going to bed.

Not without me you don't, Scully.  

I rush across the street, my heart pounding.  Jesus, am I really going to do 
this?  Me and Scully doing the naked pretzel thing?  

Oh yeah...you better believe it.

I knock at her door and wait.  Shit!  I must be out of my mind.  Scully's 
going to think Eddie Van Blundht has been paroled.  She will never believe 
it's me.  She'll probably turn her gun on me and ask me what I've done with 
her faithful and ever-platonic partner, Fox Mulder.  He's dead, Scully.  I 
murder the pathetic son of a bitch myself.  You're better off without him.  
You've waited long enough for that coward to wake up and be a man for you.  I 
hear light footsteps approaching and imagine her standing there on the other 
side of the door.

"Scully, it's me."  I reassure her and immediately I hear the lock disengage.

She opens the door and stands before me in a well worn United States Navy 
T-shirt, probably her father's.  It engulfs her petite form.  I swallow over 
a lump in my throat realizing all that stands between my lips and her visably 
erect nipples is a thin piece of fabric.  My jeans become unbearably tight. 
Her eyes take a quick, concerned inventory of my person. When she is 
convinced I am not in any immediate physical danger, she allows the hint of a 
relaxed smile to grace her full lips.  "Mulder.  It's late.  What are you 
doing here?"

"Can I come in?" If she knew why I was here would she say no?

She moves aside and lets me in to her perfectly kept, tastefully decorated, 
oh so Scully apartment.  I love this place.  It is her.  And whenever I am 
here I am surrounded by her.  My apartment is the place where I happen to 
live.  Scully's apartment is a home.  I am home.

She shuts the door and looks at me warily.  She never knows what to expect 
from her crazy partner and I think, deep down, she likes that.  Scully likes 
things unpredictable, not that she would ever admit it.  "So what's up, 
Mulder?"

This is it.  Um...um... Suddenly I realize I have no idea what so ever how to 
begin this with her.  What am I saying?  This doesn't require a detailed plan 
of attack.  I'm not a novice.  I know how to seduce a woman.  Even if that 
woman is the most incredible beautiful and intelligent creature ever to walk 
this earth.  She is still just a woman and I am a man and this is the most 
natural thing for the two of us to do.

But.  Since I'm only going to get one shot at this, I'd like to make it a 
night Scully will never forget.  I know this woman.  She's not big on flowery 
romance and sweet nothings.  She is intense and passionate and attracted to 
mercurial men.  Their unpredictability takes away the control that confines 
her self-disciplined life.  I will give her what she needs tonight. 

Unpredictable... Don't think, man, just do it!  Before I can persuade myself 
not to, I grab her by the hand and lead her straight into her bedroom.  How's 
that for the subtle art of seduction?  She is suspicious.  Maybe it's the 
look I'm giving her.  I take her into my arms reveling in the feel of her 
soft curves pressed tight against my taunt muscles.  The evidence of my need 
is obvious to her now as it presses against her belly.  

"Jesus, Mulder." She breaths and I feel her tremble ever so slightly. 

I think she's getting the idea now.  She stares up at me with anticipation.  
Her eyes are deep blue pools that hold in their depths a soul so radiant and 
beautiful I am nearly blinded by the brilliance.  My desire is overwhelming.  
Her beauty, the smell of that familiar perfume mixed with her pheromones, the 
heat radiating from her body, such a dangerous combination.  My lips descend 
upon hers hungry for a taste of that which has tantalized me for more than 
six years.  I feast on her as a starving man would a ripe piece of fruit.  
She tastes far sweeter than anything I can recall.  My tongue caresses the 
roof of her mouth and Scully moans.  It is the most erotic sound I think I 
have ever heard.  Somehow, and it is a complete mystery to me, I find the 
strength to pull back from this kiss and search her heavy lidded eyes for 
permission to continue.  God, please don't let her say no.  I'm not sure I 
could stop.  

"Mulder.  Please. Yes."  

The poor woman can't form a coherent sentence.  This is going to be a lot 
easier than I thought.  I shove her back onto the bed with just the right 
amount of force, not rough enough to frighten her but not so gentle as to 
allow her to misconstrue it for playfulness.  I want her to know I mean 
business.  I want her to be able to let go and let me be in charge.  I 
imagine this act of her submission is Scully's idea of kinky.  It will turn 
her on.

"Take that shirt off."  It is the first words I have spoken to her since I 
entered her apartment.

She hesitates just a little.

"I'm not a patient man, Scully."  I warn.  I find myself enjoying this role 
more than I would have guessed. 

She shuts her eyes and pulls the shirt off in one quick move.

Oh God, what a vision.  Scully is laying naked across her bed posed like one 
of those centerfold lovelies in my favorite skin magazine.  I let my gaze 
wander over every spectacular inch of her bare skin.  She is perfect.  Pretty 
little feet with brightly painted toenails, sculptured well toned legs, 
curvaceous hips, a flat belly, tiny waistline, ample breasts with hard pink 
nipples begging to be tasted, creamy white shoulders, and her beautiful face 
framed in a halo of red silk.  My eyes are drawn back down to that patch of 
curls, slick with arousal, and I feel a throbbing from my loins I can no 
longer ignore.

"Scully...you're mine."  I tell her and she nods her consent.  In a frenzied 
rush I strip out of my own clothes and attack her like a wild man.  One night 
of passion, I tell myself, and then tomorrow this never happened...



Fini

Next:     This Never Happened     Drop me a line if you can't find it and 
I'll send it to you.  You can reach me at   TBishop27@aol.com


"Life is too short to drink bad wine."