Implications II: Damned

Author: Ann K

Rating: NC-17, for sexual content, adult situations, bad 
words, and angst

Summary: Mulder and Scully struggle to come to terms with 
the changes in their relationship brought about by one 
night of intimacy.

Timeline: Vague, but somewhere in late season six or early 
seven.  

Part of the “Implications” series. The first story, 
“Implications,” can be found at 
http://www.geocities.com/annhkus/Implications. Each story 
stands alone. This is not a work in progress, but rather an 
occasional series. See author’s notes, thanks, etc. at the 
end.

Feedback welcomed and always appreciated at 
annhkus@yahoo.com

I. 

She stared at the clock on the wall, unseeing, unfeeling. 
The seconds that ticked by were gone forever, and she 
wondered what it would take to turn back time. She thought 
she made her peace with this. She thought she could 
compartmentalize her sexual relationship with Mulder. She 
thought she could keep her personal and professional life 
fully under control and unaffected. She thought she could 
handle the torrent of emotions that were unleashed when 
Mulder ran his fingers through her hair and touched her for 
the first time.

She thought wrong. 

“Agent Scully? Will Mulder be joining us this morning?” 
Skinner’s voice shook her out of her trance, and she forced 
herself to her feet, meeting his eyes with a confidence she 
didn’t feel. “He’s on his way, sir. He left a message in 
the office that he was running a little late.”

A message. It was the first time she heard Mulder’s voice 
since Saturday night, the intimate night they shared 
together in an unfamiliar apartment. The night that 
everything changed. He hadn’t called her on Sunday, and she 
was equally devastated and content. She didn’t know what to 
say to him. But she desperately needed to hear his voice.

“Scully, it’s me. I’m running late this morning. Tell 
Skinner I’ll be there as soon as possible.” She had 
listened to the brief message over and over, desperately 
trying to detect a subtle inference in his voice, a shade 
of intimacy beyond what they normally shared. But she heard 
nothing, other than her own frustration.

And now she was here, waiting for him. In front of Skinner, 
for god’s sakes. She wanted to turn and run, but she forced 
her feet to move, one in front of the other, into Skinner’s 
office. Breathe, Dana. Breathe.

Just as she sat down and Skinner opened the file folder she 
handed to him, Mulder opened the door, walking quietly into 
the room. He nodded quickly at Skinner. “I’m sorry I’m 
late,” he said, offering her the slightest hint of a smile 
before he slid into the chair next to her.

Oh, god. She wondered if he planned it like this, if he 
thought that their first meeting after their newly-defined 
intimate relationship would be easier with a third person. 
He would think that. Mulder never faced any conflict 
between them head-on. His strategy was simple. Avoidance, 
until the elephant in the room became so large you couldn’t 
avoid it anymore. Hell, she was the one who had to make the 
first step, to bring them across that line they had danced 
around for years. 

She felt the bitterness rise in her throat with her morning 
coffee and tried to focus on Skinner. She refused to look 
at Mulder. How had it come to this, she wondered. Mulder 
was her best friend and her partner, and the one person she 
needed the most in her life. She simply didn’t know how to 
merge that image of Mulder with the one from Saturday 
night, naked, his arms wrapped around her, his breath harsh 
in her ears. 

It wasn’t easier to see Mulder for the first time with 
Skinner around. It made it all that much harder. She wanted 
to ask him if they were going to be okay. She wanted to 
know if their night together meant as much to him as it did 
to her. She wanted to hold him, to hear him say her name, 
to have him bring her to some sort of stable ground. 
Because she was sinking fast, and needed a lifeline.

“Agent Scully? Are you feeling alright?” Skinner’s voice 
was concerned, and he leaned forward over his desk just 
slightly, peering at her. “You look a little pale.”

Scully exhaled, and then slowly turned to see Mulder. His 
face was impassive, his hands laced together in his lap. 
But, as she watched him, he blinked once, twice, and she 
saw it. The concern in his eyes, the remorse and the hurt 
and the love and the passion. Then the emotions were gone, 
as quickly as she saw them. But they were there.

Whatever they were doing, they were going to do it 
together.

“I’m fine, sir. Thank you.” Her answer was terse, but 
effective. Skinner resumed his interrogation about their 
Minnesota case, and she took comfort in the warmth of 
Mulder’s arm on the chair next to her. She could feel him, 
just as she felt his hands on her face two nights ago, the 
way he caressed her body with a love and tenderness she had 
never experienced before.

He shifted just slightly, and she knew he felt it, too.

II. 

The meeting seemed to last for hours, but, after some time, 
Scully finally felt normal again. She answered Skinner’s 
questions with a methodical efficiency, and even managed to 
argue with Mulder over the elimination of their final 
witness report. When the meeting was over, and Skinner 
excused them both, she stood uncertainly, unsure of what to 
do.

“Scully?” Mulder said, tucking the folders under one arm 
and walking towards her slowly. “I have a noon meeting with 
BSU about a possible case, but, if your schedule is open, 
perhaps we can have lunch.” They walked together towards 
the elevator, the usual Hoover building chaos fading 
silently around them.

“Lunch?” she repeated. Belatedly, she realized she sounded 
like a child. This was a mutual decision, she reminded 
herself. They were adults. This would all be okay. “Lunch 
sounds good,” she said, surprising them both.

Mulder rode down with her in the elevator. “I’m sorry I was 
late this morning,” he said, as the doors slid slowly 
opened and they stepped into the darkened hallway. 

“It’s okay,” she answered automatically, and then stopped 
as she put the keys into the door. “Actually, it wasn’t 
okay.”

Even in the darkened shadows, she could see his surprise. 

“It wasn’t okay, Mulder, because you and I made a very big 
decision this weekend. Things have changed, and I think it 
would have been of some benefit for you to be here this 
morning, so we could talk about things before we had to 
meet with Skinner.” She sounded angry, but she knew she 
really wasn’t. Mulder brought up every single emotion in 
her, so the anger in her voice was really a representation 
of her fear and uncertainty.

 “I wasn’t trying to avoid you this morning,” Mulder said, 
and Scully counted to ten before she turned to look at him.

Ten wasn’t enough to prepare her for the way his shadowed 
eyes watched her in the darkness, and the way he leaned 
against the door frame, his body a few inches from her own.

“It sure as hell seemed like it. You didn’t call me this 
weekend, and I needed some clue from you as to how we 
should proceed from here. For god’s sakes, the last time I 
see you, you’re naked in bed, and then you walk into 
Skinner’s office in your Armani, and I’ve got to pretend 
like everything is normal.” Her voice rose as she spoke, 
and she was startled to hear her accusations echo in the 
hallway.

She had known Mulder long enough to know that the clinch of 
the muscles near his jaw meant he was angry, but was 
fighting the impulse to let her know. She wanted him to be 
angry. She wanted him to talk to her.

She wanted to know that he didn’t make love to her simply 
because she asked him to do so, that he wanted her just as 
much as she did him.

“Scully,” he finally said, his voice dripping ice. “You 
asked me to meet you Saturday night. You asked me to make 
love to you. You said there were rules, that what we did in 
that room stayed in that room. I followed your rules. I did 
exactly what you asked me to do.”

Then it was obligation, not love, and she wasn’t sure how 
to react to that.

But suddenly his face was directly in front of her own, and 
his fingers lifted her chin up so she could meet his gaze, 
and she sure as hell didn’t know how to react.

“This is your game, Scully. I’m following your rules. If 
you want them to change, all you have to do is tell me. But 
I didn’t avoid you this morning, and I’m sorry I was late.” 
And then he kissed her, and she stopped trying to 
rationalize the situation.

Instead, she concentrated on the minty taste of his mouth, 
with the slightest hint of coffee. She took his face in her 
hands, and pulled him closer, and vaguely registered his 
moan. His hair tickled her fingers, and his tongue plunged 
deeper within her mouth, possessing her.

He pulled away, reluctantly, and they stood in silence, 
staring at the floor.

“I’ve got to go to this meeting, Scully,” he finally said, 
stepping away from her to turn the keys in the office door. 
“I need to get a few files, though.” She didn’t move as he 
walked into the office, listening instead to his shoes on 
the floor, and the familiar sound of the file drawer 
opening. He pulled out a handful of manila folders, walking 
back to the door.

“Maybe lunch today isn’t a good idea,” he finally said, and 
she met his eyes. “Only because I think you need a little 
more time. You tell me what you want, Scully. I need to 
know.” He reached out and squeezed her hand as he walked 
by, and the elevator doors slid shut behind him, and she 
was alone.

She clung to her Special Agent persona with a certain 
ferocity. It set her apart in the world, and gave her a 
status in the male-dominated environment in which she found 
herself daily. Other agents respected her. She respected 
herself. 

Sleeping with her partner was crossing every line she had 
ever drawn.

Scully wasn’t surprised to see Skinner standing in the 
office door later that afternoon, telling her that Mulder 
had been called off to consult on the BSU case immediately. 
Nor was she surprised to find Mulder’s message on their 
office voice mail, simply saying he’d see her soon. 

She listened to his message repeatedly, restlessly turning 
a pencil in her hands, wondering if the kiss in the hallway 
could be considered outside the rules.

III.

She infuriated him. She pissed him off. There were times 
that he wanted to kill her, or at least throw up his hands 
in disgust and walk away. He also loved her, which seemed 
to balance out all the frustration and anger that Scully 
seemed to dredge up in him.

He had always loved her. But when he found the key outside 
of his apartment, and walked in to find Scully ready to 
cross their imaginary, but comfortable line, it was the key 
to more than just a strange apartment. That key had 
unlocked every emotion in both of them, and he admitted 
that he wasn’t dealing with it too well. Scully was dealing 
with it even worse.

Mulder shifted from one foot to the other, waiting for his 
bags to arrive on the carousel. It had been an exhausting 
week, a grueling case. Bringing along his personal 
emotional baggage hadn’t helped any. He hadn’t talked to 
Scully since Monday, but maybe that was just as well. Maybe 
time away from each other this past week had allowed them 
to put their choice into perspective. There was no going 
back, and he didn’t want to. Scully needed to make sure she 
didn’t, either. 

Now it was 8:15 on a Saturday night, and he had forty-five 
minutes to arrive at the one place he couldn’t stop 
thinking about all week. Somewhere over eastern Tennessee, 
on his flight into Dulles, he had decided. He freely 
admitted that he almost decided to put an end to this right 
now. That Scully simply wasn’t ready for an intimate 
relationship with him, and he didn’t want to jeopardize 
what they had. He couldn’t define what they had. He knew it 
didn’t include Scully stripping in front of him, and then 
clutching the curtains as he entered her from behind, her 
voice tremulously calling his name. 

That was certainly new ground.

Just as Mulder left the airport, the rain began to fall, 
and the long line of cars on the freeway grew even longer, 
and it was fifteen until nine and he was still several 
miles away, and he began to panic.

The rain was heavy, dropping onto his windshield with a 
fierce delight, the large drops creating a cacophony of 
sound that eventually edged out his thoughts about Scully 
into a mild state of panic.

“Shit,” he muttered, slamming on the brakes as the traffic 
slowed to a crawl in front of him. He didn’t need this. 
Tapping his fingers incessantly on the steering wheel, he 
rummaged through his bag on the front seat, emerging with 
his cell phone, hitting the memory dial to connect with 
Scully. He’d tell her he was on the way. This was all very 
simple.

“The caller you are trying to reach is unavailable...” Damn 
it. She knew he was arriving this evening. He left a 
message at work the day before, letting her know he would 
see her tomorrow. He wanted to see her. He had missed her 
so goddamned much that it was almost an ache in his chest.

It was ten after nine by the time he pulled into an empty 
parking spot in front of the apartment building. The rain 
was impossibly heavy now, lacy sheets which blew furiously 
in the wind. He leaned forward, squinting, trying to 
decipher the lights of the apartment, the windshield wipers 
cutting in front of his vision. 

The fourth floor was completely dark. She wasn’t here.

He had screwed up. Big time. When Scully first presented 
her proposition, he should have spoken up. Told her that he 
loved her, had always loved her, and things didn’t need to 
be this way. That they could have a normal relationship, as 
normal as a relationship with the two of them could be. 
That one night a week would never be enough, that he wanted 
to be with her forever. 

But those simply weren’t things that he would ever say, 
especially not to Scully. And now he was sitting alone in 
the darkness, the rain laughing at him from the roof of the 
car. 

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there when he saw movement 
from the entranceway, a blur in the rain. Mulder sat up, 
slowly. The streetlights cast a hazy glow, and his heart 
thudded as the figure approached the car.

It was Scully. He wasn’t sure when she saw him, or if she 
recognized the car, but she stood motionless on the 
sidewalk, a small umbrella cloaking her in the darkness. 
The rain ran off her trenchcoat in small rivers, but she 
didn’t seem to care. She had been crying, but Mulder wasn’t 
sure if it was tears or the rain he saw streaming down her 
face.

They looked at each other, Mulder’s windshield wipers 
providing a clear glimpse of Scully’s face before the rain 
covered her again, and again, and again. 

Mulder got out of the car, picking his way across the flood 
of water near the curb, and stood beside her in the 
darkness. His first thought was that she smelled wonderful. 
His second thought was that he had missed her, even more 
than he could have imagined. “I thought you weren’t 
coming,” she began, trembling a little.

“There’s nowhere else I’d be,” he responded, and then took 
her hand, leading them both inside, out of the rain.

IV.

The apartment was warm when they stepped inside, the rain 
streaking down the windows. The streetlights cast an odd, 
low smolder across the sparse room. He remembered every 
detail, although it had been a week since he had last been 
here. He chose not to turn on the lights. 

“Scully,” he said, his voice a low whisper. She didn’t turn 
around to look at him. He could see her profile illuminated 
in the hazy darkness. “Scully,” he tried again, walking up 
behind her. She shivered as his hand went up to her 
shoulder. “Damn it, Scully,” he muttered. “You’re soaked. 
You need to put on something dry.”

His intentions were noble. Before he made love to Scully 
again, they needed to talk, a long conversation about what 
they wanted and where they were headed. It was the kind of 
conversation they had long avoided. But now they were at a 
point of no return. Such were his intentions. Scully turned 
to look at him, dropping her trenchcoat to the floor in a 
soggy heap, and whatever noble intentions he had were gone.  

The dress was new, because he sure as hell would have 
remembered her wearing something like this. His instincts 
told him it was the type of dress that Scully never wore. 
She wore it from him, for this evening together. The fabric 
was damp from the rain, which only made it cling to her 
tighter, the neckline plunging to her waist. He stared at 
her, unable to tear his eyes away from the faint outline of 
her breasts. 

“I’m glad you’re here.” For a moment, Mulder thought the 
words were his, and then he saw Scully’s mouth twist into a 
small smile. “I’m glad you’re here, Mulder,” she repeated, 
as she walked towards him. “Now help me get warm.” 

Somewhere, in what remained of his rational thoughts, he 
knew he should say no. Not that he didn’t want her, but he 
wanted more than just her body right now. He wanted the 
part of Scully that he had first fallen in love with, her 
mind, her complex emotions that made her who she was. But 
he couldn’t find the words, and then Scully was standing in 
front of him, her damp hair curling around her face, and 
she lifted his hands to her breasts.

Her hands were trembling, and that was his downfall.

“Christ,” he managed, his voice a mixture of pleasure and 
agony, as he touched her. The fabric was cold beneath his 
fingers, but he could feel the warmth of Scully’s skin a 
heartbeat away. He let his fingers trace her breasts, and 
then one hand moved towards Scully’s neck, reaching to 
untie the single knot that held her dress together. 

The dress joined her trenchcoat on the floor, and Mulder 
let the moment stretch on into eternity. Scully was giving 
him everything, standing naked in the darkness, the shadows 
teasing him with their dance across her skin. She was 
beautiful, and there was no where else he would rather be 
at this moment.

Their lovemaking was desperate, fierce, tinged with the 
fear that Scully felt when she thought he wouldn’t come to 
her, combined with his frustration that he couldn’t voice 
the words they both needed to hear. Somehow, they stumbled 
onto the bed, Scully pulling off Mulder’s clothes, her 
mouth never leaving his.

He lay on his back and watched as Scully rode him, her hips 
moving with a trademark assurance that marked every moment 
of her life. Scully was always in control. Or at least she 
wanted to believe she was. So Mulder let her have that 
moment, and he gave himself over to the warmth of being 
inside her. His hands roamed over her stomach, stopping to 
rest on her waist as he felt the tremors build inside her, 
for both of them.

And then he achieved his small victory. Just as Scully 
began to come, her body shivering with so much more than 
the cold, her eyes locked upon his, and he said the words. 
They weren’t just words spoken in the passion of the 
moment. They were the words he’d always wanted to say to 
her, and this time, she would hear them.

“I love you, Scully.” 

She couldn’t stop the movements of her hips, but he knew 
she heard him, by the way her eyes widened, and her mouth 
fell open slightly. Her response was lost in a deep moan, 
but he swore he heard a “me, too” and it was enough. He 
came hard, every frustration of the past week spilling out 
of his body into Scully’s warmth. 

She collapsed on top of him, her hair falling over his 
shoulder. Neither of them spoke. Perhaps there simply 
weren’t any words for the moment. He found his peace in the 
way Scully’s breathing slowed as she reluctantly rolled off 
him, pulling the covers up over their bodies, enveloping 
them both.

“Did you miss me this week?” It was his question, but it 
could have been hers.

“A little,” she replied, and he couldn’t see her face. She 
lazily ran her fingers down his neck. “Work was quiet 
without you,” she added, almost as an afterthought.

Neither of them spoke of their recent confessions, and he 
found there was nothing else to say. He half-expected 
Scully to leave. She had before, and he wondered if their 
intimacy was too much for her, too raw, leaving her too 
exposed. But she surprised him, as her body became more 
relaxed in his arms, and her breathing took on the steady 
lull of sleep.

Sleep eluded him for some time. Instead, he watched the 
shadows, and listened as the rain fell, and wondered in 
which direction he and Scully were headed. There was no 
answer, only the gentle rise and fall of Scully’s bare 
chest, matched by the steady cadence of the rain.


FINIS


Author’s notes:

Thanks as always to my wonderful beta Kayla for her 
encouragement and helpful suggestions. 

Read more of my work at http://www.geocities.com/annhkus. 
Feedback and comments are always much appreciated, 
annhkus@yahoo.com.




    Source: geocities.com/annhkus