AFFIRMATION (1/1) by viXen
Posted: April 8, 1997
***DO NOT POST TO A.T.X.C.***
Archivists: Please archive but keep my name and intro attached.
Summary: Mulder/Scully romance. Mulder is called in to identify
the body of Dana Scully.
Timeline/Spoilers: Near future. One tiny mention of Duane Barry.
Classification/Rating: SRA, NC-17
Disclaimer: I don't own Fox Mulder and Dana Scully. They belong
to CC, 1013 and Fox. However, Dr. Mark Redmond is my creation.
Notes: An answer to the challenge about the US magazine photo of
DD and GA in the morgue (my apologies: when I wrote this I didn't
know about the second part to the photo that showed GA also had a
toe tag. For this story, pretend she didn't ;-). Yup, an NC-17
rating here. If you're underaged, bail now. Although it's not
mentioned in the story, assume that measures were taken in the
area of safe sex. Thanks again to Charli and Rhoni for helping me
overcome my shyness. ::grin:: I live for feedback, so please send
comments to xfvixen@geocities.com.
------------------------------X-x-X------------------------------
AFFIRMATION by viXen
Gila County Coroner's Office
Globe, Arizona
1:45am
The room was so cold.
He hadn't realized how cold these rooms were kept, paying no heed
to the living bodies that had to suffer through the chilly
temperature. Why did they keep these rooms so cold? Were the dead
visitors complaining of the heat?
Bile rose in Fox Mulder's throat as the stench of formaldehyde,
along with countless other smells he associated with death,
accosted his nostrils. He'd been in so many autopsy bays he'd
lost count, but he never got used to the lingering smell of
death.
"Agent Mulder?"
Mulder turned to the voice behind him, finding a blonde-haired,
blue-eyed man in a white lab coat. The agents had met with Dr.
Mark Redmond, the Gila County coroner, earlier in the day about a
case involving mutilation victims. An amiable man, Redmond not
only reviewed each autopsy in detail with Scully, but offered his
home number in case they needed his further consult.
The man before Mulder reminded him of a taller, sandy-haired
version of Pendrell, his hair short and wavy, his eyes big and
his face friendly but a little on the nerdy side.
"Agent Mulder, my assistant called me at home. I...was hoping
this was just a case of mistaken identity." Redmond paused,
motioning to a nearby autopsy table. A stark white sheet lay
draped over the table, the crisp material peaked in the middle.
"The body is right over here," the coroner continued.
Mulder flinched. The body. It was as simple as that. 'Hello,
Agent Mulder, here's _the body_.'
His stomach lurched toward his throat. The body. The body.
Thebodythebodythebody...
Mulder tried to shake the mantra from his head as he slowly
approached the steel table. The Body.
The Body of Dana Scully.
He had received the call from a police detective less than thirty
minutes before. She had been found in the parking lot of a
hospital, shot in the head. The detective found her ID badge and
cell phone, and had the common sense to push #1 on her speed
dial.
Mulder had been on the other side of town following another lead.
She was on her way to talk to an ER doctor working the graveyard
shift the night the latest of the mutilation victims had come in,
barely alive. Scully wasn't supposed to be in any danger. A
simple question-and-answer session with one of the good guys.
What the hell happened?
He stared at the white sheet as Redmond walked to the opposite
side of the table. Mulder tried to raise his hand to the sheet
but was unable to feel his arm. He couldn't feel anything.
Empty. So empty. This couldn't be happening.
Redmond took pity on the agent and gently raised the sheet.
Mulder's eyes closed the minute the coroner's hands made contact
with the material. He counted to five, then slowly opened his
eyes. He studied the face carefully, taking in every inch of
skin, every pore, the seared, bloody hole in the forehead...
"Fuck," he whispered on a breath.
"Agent Mulder," Redmond said, lowering the sheet, "I'm so sorry
you had to do this but you do understand that we needed someone
to ID the..."
"It's not her." Mulder's voice was flat.
Redmond's eyebrows arched. "You're absolutely sure? Detective
Holloman found her badge and..."
"It's. Not. Her," Mulder said through clenched teeth. "I don't
know who this is, but I do know it's NOT Dana Scully. Hair's too
long and the wrong color of red. Lips are too thin. And Scully
has a small mole just below her nose. This woman does not."
The coroner opened his mouth to speak, then closed it quickly
upon seeing the agent's expression. Before Redmond had a chance
to ask just how well the partners knew each other, Mulder turned
on his heel and stormed to the double doors, slamming his open
palms against the metal. The doors flew open so fast they slapped
against the outside walls and groaned on their straining hinges.
Instead of finding the exit, Mulder walked farther into the
building, farther away from the autopsy room where an
unidentified petite redhead lay on a slab of metal. He found a
hallway off the main part of the building and followed it to the
end, ducking into the first room he found unlocked.
Finding the lightswitch behind the door, he flipped it on. Only
one of the overhead fluorescent lights came on, leaving the far
end of the room bathed in half-light and shadows. He could make
out the outline of several portable autopsy tables shoved against
the metal body drawers lining the far wall. A spare autopsy bay
now used as a storage room, he surmised. He noted with some
relief that the room wasn't kept at temperatures usually found in
walk-in freezers.
Mulder listened to the clicking of his heels echo off the metal
tables as he moved toward the shadows. He felt more comfortable
in shadows. He'd spent most of his life there. He realized that
he and Scully had been lurking in the shadows so much lately, not
only professionally but personally. That was where they had to
keep their new relationship. He hated having to keep it there but
they had no choice.
They were forced to sneak around like a modern-day Romeo and
Juliet, the feuding families replaced by an imperfect and easily
corrupted system, secretly controlled by a consortium of powerful
men who wanted nothing more than to bury the X-Files, along with
the truth, for good.
"Mulder?"
Placing his hands on one of the tables, he leaned into it. He
could hear her voice in his head so clearly. She was so much a
part of him it was as if she were another appendage on his body,
one he didn't want to live without. He needed her like he had
needed no one else in his life. The thought both terrified and
excited him.
He frowned. Someone had taken her. There was no way Scully would
have willingly given up her trenchcoat, cell phone and badge, the
three items of hers found on the body he had viewed. Why such an
elaborate hoax? Did the killer know they were here and decided to
throw them off the track? Were they that close to catching the
person who had mutilated those five women? And if it _was_ the
killer who set this up, did he have Scully?
"Mulder. I'm here."
He turned around as he suddenly realized the voice wasn't in his
head. He tried to speak but his voice failed to materialize. All
he could do was stare at her.
Her beige suit jacket was torn and soiled in several places. She
was walking with a slight limp and he noticed dried blood on the
edges of a sizable rip in her beige pants just below the knee.
Her face had two small smudges of mud or blood, he wasn't sure
which, and her hair looked as if she had been caught in a
windstorm.
Scully slowly approached him and he watched her in awe and
confusion. She stopped just inches from him, within arms' reach,
but he made no move to touch her.
"Mulder, it's OK. I'm here," she whispered as she raised a hand
to cup his cheek.
He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. She was real. He
wasn't imagining her. "Wha...what happened?" he forced out. His
control was slipping fast.
"I drove to the hospital to meet with Dr. Evans. I only made it a
few steps from the car when someone knocked me over the head."
She paused, unable to stop the subtle shudder from working its
way up her spine. "I was in the trunk of a car and I must have
regained consciousness faster than expected. When the car stopped
and the trunk opened, I surprised the guy."
Mulder opened his eyes for the first time since she had reached
out to him. "Just one guy?"
She smirked. "Yeah, this was not a professional job. I knocked
the guy out with a tire iron, shoved him in the trunk and drove
back to the hospital. I managed to find Holloman there and that's
when he told me you were here to..." Her voice trailed off as she
took a long, deep look in his eyes. The torture there would have
been evident to her even if tears hadn't started their descent
down his face.
"Scully, they told me you were dead." He stopped as his voice
hitched. "They made me...oh God, Dana, I thought that body was
you."
Finally he reached out for her, wrapping his long arms around her
and crushing her to him. Their bodies couldn't have been any
closer but it wasn't close enough. He buried his face in her hair
and sobbed as she ran her hands along the length of his back.
"Shhh, it's OK. I'm alive," she whispered in a soothing voice.
"I thought I had lost you," he murmured in her ear. "I thought
I'd never be able to hold you again. When you came in here, I
thought I was imagining you."
Scully pulled back from him and removed one of his hands from her
back. "I'm real, Mulder," she said, holding his gaze as she
placed his hand below her left breast. "See, you can feel my
heartbeat. I'm alive."
He stared into her eyes for a moment then lowered his gaze to
where his hand lay on the thin black material of her shirt. He
could feel her heartbeat, a steady rhythm pumping lightly under
his hand. He watched as his hand, seemingly involuntarily, moved
up to cup her breast. He looked back up to her eyes just in time
to see them close. His thumb brushed against her nipple. On a
gasp, her eyes fluttered open. He let out a low hiss of air when
he saw the darkened irises and dilated pupils.
Both of his hands went to her face and he pulled her to him. His
lips pried hers open, his tongue thrusting in and out, touching
and tasting every part of her mouth. His hands moved down her
neck and briefly caressed the soft skin there before settling on
her shoulders. His fingers hooked under her suit jacket lapels
and he pushed the jacket from her body.
Scully moved closer to him but he pulled back, leaving enough
room for his hands to slide down the front of her body to her
waist. He grasped the cotton shirt and tugged up, trying to
untuck it from her pants.
She reached for his hands as she broke the kiss. "No, Mulder,"
she exhaled. "Not here."
"Yes," he hissed, his breath sending strands of her hair
fluttering around her face. "Here. Now. I need to feel you,
Scully. Skin against skin."
Scully opened her mouth to protest but promptly closed it. She
had never seen that look in his eyes. Desire was there, she could
tell, but there was something else, something more primal, more
basal in his eyes. His need was there for her to see, and that
need was overwhelming. As she stared into those circles of
darkened brownish-green, she realized her need was well on its
way to matching his.
The last time she had been in a trunk of a car, she had lost
three months of her life. Three months gone as easily as one
tears pages from a calendar. Three months she could never get
back. Images of Duane Barry flashing behind her eyes. She wanted
Mulder to rip those memories from her brain. She wanted him to
fill her body as well as her mind with new memories and new hope.
Her mind screamed at her; they couldn't do this. Not here, not
now. It was too dangerous. She felt one of his hands tangling in
her hair, the other pulling her close. His breath was hot and
ragged against her forehead, and as he pressed his body against
hers, she could feel how much he wanted her. The screams were
getting weaker.
"Someone might see us," she said unconvincingly.
"I don't care," he whispered as his mouth descended on hers.
All remaining resistance left her in a low, guttural moan that
came from somewhere within her body. She relaxed in his arms,
linking one hand behind his head to pull him closer to her. His
hands tugged at her shirt again and she made no attempt to stop
him, even helping him by raising her arms so he could free her
from the suddenly confining material.
Mulder reluctantly pulled his hands from her body to shrug his
trenchcoat and suit jacket, letting them fall and form a pool of
navy blue at his feet. He unlatched and removed his holster, and
was forced to break their kiss to bend down and carefully place
his gun in the pillow of clothing. The tiny mewling sound from
her throat when his lips left hers nearly made him lose his
balance and he caught himself with one hand to the floor.
As soon has he righted his body and stood up, Scully's hands
found his tie. Deft fingers loosened the knot and yanked the
strip of silk from his collar. Her normally steady hands shook
with her desire as she fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. She
managed to undo four of them before Mulder grabbed the collar and
whisked the shirt over his head, tossing it aside.
Scully's hands and mouth were drawn to him simultaneously. She
kissed and nipped at his skin while running her hands up and
down, relishing in the friction created by the contact of her
hands and the short, wiry hairs of his chest. She trailed her
hands down his body, taking time to trace his firm abdominal
muscles before descending to the waistband of his pants. With the
hands of a magician, she undid his belt, unlooped the button and
lowered the zipper in a matter of seconds. Her hands greedily
sought out the heat of him, stroking and cupping him through his
boxers.
"Oh God. Scuullee," he groaned as her fingers slid under the silk
and wrapped themselves around his erection. He lost himself
completely in her touch, his mind aware of nothing but her mouth
and tongue and fingers. She had no idea the power she held over
him. This woman, whose full height barely reached the bottom of
his chin, could reduce him to a quivering mass of hormones with
the stamina of a sixteen-year-old by just touching him. It took
every ounce of his remaining willpower to keep from exploding in
her hands.
Somehow his brain managed to get a message to his arms, as he was
vaguely aware of his hands traveling down her back and unhooking
her bra. His hands moved back up to her shoulders and peeled the
straps away and down her skin. He then grabbed her wrists and
raised them to his neck. Her deep blue eyes met his gaze and she
nodded as she looped her hands around his neck.
Their moans made an erotic duo as their upper bodies touched,
bare skin on bare skin. Mouths sought out each other and collided
with a ferocity neither was able to control. Tongues thrust in
and out, mimicking what both knew their lower bodies would be
doing at any minute.
Knowing he wouldn't last much longer, Mulder hurriedly removed
her pants, taking her panties with them in one long shove, then
slid his hands up to her waist. She gasped as he lifted her,
sitting her on one of the autopsy tables behind her. The metal
creaked but the table held its ground. Thank God the wheel locks
are engaged, Mulder thought with the few brain cells still
functioning.
With her sitting on the table, their eyes were at equal level,
communicating everything words could never say. Scully felt his
hands on her thighs, gently nudging them apart. She complied and
pulled him to stand between her legs as she pushed the boxers
down. Mulder shoved them the rest of the way down his legs and
kicked them off, never once breaking eye contact.
He moved one hand slowly up her thigh until he reached his goal
and was rewarded with a throaty gasp. That sound, coupled with
her arousal soaking his fingers, made it impossible for him to
stop a growl from escaping his own lips.
"Mulder, now. I need you now," she moaned, her voice threaded
with the husky tones of desire. Normally she was an ardent fan of
the 'slow and easy' approach, but this was different. He wanted
to feel that she was alive, and more than anything, she wanted
him to make her feel alive. She wanted it hard and fast, and her
eyes did their best to convey that message.
Scully scooted up the table, leaving room for Mulder to climb up
with her. Their movements toppled a pile of white sheets sitting
on the edge, sending most of the sheets to the floor. She laid
back and reached for him. Their lips met as he settled himself
between her legs, then pushed into her in one quick movement.
The word 'slow' was no longer registering in Mulder's brain. He
thrust into her at a maddening pace, burying himself to the hilt
before pulling back and doing it again. His ears barely
registered the clanking of the table hitting the autopsy drawers
behind it.
A few more thrusts and he felt Scully lift off the table. He
angled his mouth over hers and swallowed her cries as she reached
that precipice and beyond. Her muscles gripping and squeezing him
sent him over that same cliff just seconds behind her.
As he began to come back to himself, Mulder resisted the urge to
collapse onto Scully and managed to roll himself next to her. He
gathered her in his arms and she snuggled against him, laying her
head on his chest.
"Mulder, we can't fall asleep here," she slurred.
"Mmmm," he answered as he reached for two white sheets still
valiantly hanging on, their edges trapped under Scully's body. He
heard her mumble something, then felt her shift against him
before sleep blanketed him in darkness.
------------------------------X-x-X------------------------------
A cool hand nudging his shoulder brought Mulder back to
consciousness. He smiled when his eyes opened and focused on a
cloud of fiery red hair and flushed ivory skin. She was on the
table next to where he was, her body partially draped in a sheet.
"Hi," he said, knowing the grin on his face was as goofy as he
imagined. "How long have we been out?"
Despite the glare she shot at him, Scully couldn't stop the
corners of her mouth from curling up a few millimeters. She
propped herself up on one elbow.
"Not long, maybe half an hour or so," she said quietly, pulling
the sheet farther up her chest. "Mulder, do you realize what we
just did?"
"Had some killer sex?" he replied casually. His grin widened when
he saw her pursed lips and narrowing eyes. He really loved this
game.
"Mulder, we just 'did it' in a morgue," she said in a hushed
voice.
He chuckled. "Sure beats joining the 'Mile High Club' any day."
Scully took a swing at him, her open palm landing squarely on his
shoulder. He grabbed her wrist and brought it to his lips. His
tongue flicked out and laved her palm.
"Mulder," she whispered. "Mulder, don't. This was not smart. It
was dangerous."
He released her hand and shifted the sheet over his body. "Are
you sorry we did it?"
"In a morgue?" she asked, her voice raising an octave. "You must
be joking."
Mulder shook his head. "Scully, what's the big deal about it
being a morgue? There are no bodies here other than ours. They
use this room for equipment storage."
"The fact remains," Scully asserted, "that this is a coroner's
office. If this place was meant for us to have sex in it, they
would have at least nailed the tables to the floor."
He smiled briefly, then looked up at her, pinning her with his
eyes. Lifting his arm, he started tracing the length of her arm
with his forefinger. "I needed you, Scully. You don't know what
went through my head when I got that phone call, and then when I
saw it wasn't you... I don't know why but I just needed to feel
you, to be inside you, to know you were really here."
Scully's hand covered his. "I know," she whispered, her eyes
filling with tears.
Mulder raised up from the table and put his hand behind Scully's
neck, lowering her head to meet his halfway. The kiss was quick
but lacked none of the intensity and passion of its predecessors.
Reluctantly, he pulled away and lay back on the cool table.
"Besides, what better way to affirm life than to make love in a
place associated with death."
Scully smiled, then added a husky laugh. "Mulder, only you could
present a bizarre yet vaguely viable justification for having sex
on an autopsy table." Her smile slowly faded. "We took a big
chance doing this."
He nodded. "I know, but us being together is in and of itself
dangerous. You know that." His hand moved to her chin, forcing
her to raise her eyes to his. "Do you regret us making that
move?"
Scully reached out to caress his stubbled jawline. "There are
some things in my life I regret doing, Mulder. But this is _not_
one of them. I...need you. We need each other." She lowered her
gaze and smiled. "I just hope the next time we 'need' each other,
the place has a softer, warmer surface."
Mulder laughed, then gave her palm a quick kiss. "Come on. Let's
get dressed before we're mistaken for permanent residents."
Stretching her legs, Scully took a minute to make a visual sweep
of Mulder's lean, half-draped body. The white sheet was covering
from his chest all the way down one leg and stopped just above
his calf. She loved his legs, so long, muscular but not
grotesquely so, and...
"Oh God," she breathed.
Mulder quickly turned to her. Her eyes were wide, like those of a
deer caught in an oncoming truck's headlights. "What?"
"Mulder, I think someone already knows about us," she stammered,
her gaze never leaving his lower body.
Following the line of her gaze, he soon realized what had her in
a panic. "What the..."
Tied loosely around his big toe was a toe tag.
He scrambled to a sitting position and grabbed for the tag.
MULDER, FOX was written in block letters. On a whim, he turned
the tag over. More writing appeared in a barely decipherable
cursive:
Sorry, couldn't resist. Holloman's looking for you.
Told him you went back to hotel. Don't worry, I'm
the only one who knows. Glad you found her, Agent
Mulder, and thanks for making my night.
M. Redmond
Scully sidled up next to Mulder and read the note. "What kind of
sick joke... Damnit, Mulder, he knows! He could report us to
Skinner!"
Mulder dropped the toe tag and placed his hand on her shoulder.
"Scully, calm down. You met Redmond. He's just a small-time
doctor in a small-time desert town. He has no reason to report
us." His hand went to her chin and remained there until she
raised her eyes to him. "I'll talk to him."
Scully huffed and jumped off the table, grabbing her clothes and
roughly pulling them on. "I hope you know I can never face that
man again."
Mulder smiled to himself as he pulled on his boxers. "Sure you
can, Scully." He approached her and stilled her shaking hands as
they struggled with the zipper on her pants. "You'll be just
fine. You know why?"
Scully looked up at him, sarcasm evident in her expression and
voice. "No, why?"
"Because you have more balls than a locker room full of football
players." He wrapped his arms around her and planted a light kiss
on her forehead. "Because you're Dana Scully."
Scully smiled and relaxed into his embrace. "Good answer, Agent
Mulder."
------------------------------X-x-X------------------------------
Dr. Mark Redmond's office
2:32am
"Yes, I'm sure. I saw them myself. In flagrante delecto." Redmond
ran a hand through his short hair, smirking as he recalled the
two agents asleep in each other's arms, the smell of sweat and
sex overpowering the disinfectant scent in the room. He'd seen
many things happen in an autopsy bay, but this was a first.
"You've done well, Dr. Redmond," the voice proclaimed. "Expect
your papers to go through immediately. I'm sure Quantico will
have no problem accepting your application. We may call upon you
from time to time to help us with a...project, but nothing that
should interfere with your job."
The coroner nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, whatever, that's
fine. How long do you think before we can move to Washington?"
The voice exhaled slowly. "Slow down, Dr. Redmond. These things
take as long as they take. Don't worry, you'll get exactly what
you deserve in due time."
Redmond swallowed hard, then opened his mouth. He started
speaking, getting a few words out, when he realized he was
talking to a dial tone. He rubbed a hand over his face. This was
a good thing. He and Elise could get the kids out of this
shithole town and he could start making some decent money.
Besides, those FBI agents would get a slap on the wrist at most,
right?
He yanked at the collar of his shirt. Redmond knew he had done
the right thing for himself and his family, but he just couldn't
shake the feeling he had just made a deal with the Devil.
END PART 1/1
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xfvixen@geocities.com. Thanks for reading!
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