From: RaValliano 
Subject: Volition Unbound (1/6) by Rachel Anton NC-17


Title: Volition Unbound (1/6)
Author: Rachel Anton
E-Mail: RaValliano@aol.com, feedback happily devoured
Rating: NC-17 
Category: S/A/MSR
Content Warning: This story has a slight bit of a
Scully/other warning. It's not much but it's an
important part of the story.
Spoilers: Never Again, general feeling of season 5
Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully do not belong to me. They
are the intellectual property of Chris Carter, Fox,
David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson
Summary: The return of a man from Scully's past forces
her to make some descisions. 
Archive: Okay anywhere as long as my name is attatched


I hate planes. Most people do but I hate them to the
degree that I am physically ill every time I know I'll
be on one in a few hours. Needless to say I am
physically ill quite often. This morning it was a
moderate case of the dry heaves. It was six am and
Mulder was pounding impatiently on my door as I
wretched air into the toilet bowl. I'm sure he assumed
I was picking out an outfit or some other foolishness.
He has no idea how much I hate planes. 
I look over to him. He is sleeping. Actually sleeping.
I think the only time he gets any rest is on these
plane trips. He has created an obstacle course for the
stewardess to maneuver, which she does with an
irritated grimace. His long legs are splayed out into
the aisle in every direction. His arms are folded over
his lap and his head is resting on the side of my head
rest. The speakers on his walkman are blaring in my
ear. He needs the noise to sleep. I can make out a few
words. I think it's The Doors. Very loud. He is
snoring. Also very loud. He has been like this for over
and hour. Ever since we took off. I hate planes. I hate
planes with Mulder on them even more than other planes. 
	
I look, for the first time, at the case file that was
urgent enough to rouse me from a Saturday morning sleep
and bring me to this flight from hell. The next big
thing. The monster of the day. There are times when I
am very excited by my work. There are times when I am
minimally excited and Mulder's passion and enthusiasm
draw me in. I can tell this is not going to be one of
those times. Apparently there is some beastman
devouring people whole in some town near Denver. Some
skeletons have been discovered with human teeth marks
on them. The locals seem to think it's Bigfoot. So does
Mulder apparently. 
	
I skim the reports disinterestedly and pick at my Pan
Am issue chicken salad. I don't eat the chicken. It
scares me. Mulder shifts in his sleep and his head
drops onto my shoulder as his legs project further into
the aisle. He is slowly reclining. Soon he will be
completely horizontal with his head in my lap and his
legs practically out the window on the other side of
the plane. Then he will wake up flustered and confused,
apologize, sit up, take off his walkman, and complain
that he missed the food service. Sometimes he is more
predictable than the phases of the moon. Sometimes he
is a complete mystery. I suppose the moon is a mystery
as well. Mulder is the moon. He would be happy to hear
me say that I'm sure. I shake my head trying to rattle
out the whimsical thoughts that have invaded it and
look back to the file. I scan the list of names. People
involved with the case. Local sheriff, witnesses yadda
yadda. Sometimes there is a funny name and I can amuse
myself with it as a distraction from the rumbling of
the engines under me. How would my life be different if
I was named Frosty Glass? Or Chanda Leer? Don't laugh.
Those are real names.
	
Mulder is sliding. He will be in my lap soon. And I
will have to pretend I don't care, pretend I don't even
notice. Either that or throw some flirtatious innuendo
his way. Depends on my mood. Depends on whether or not
I want to throw him for a loop. I think today I will
ignore it. 
	
Just as his head plops down on my right thigh and the
familiar flush fills me at the contact I notice
something unusual. Something so unusual that I don't
even respond when he nuzzles against my leg and sighs.
So unexpected that when he wakes up, when he doesn't
move, when he looks up at me and smiles, I barely even
register the change in the routine. I am in shock you
see. Absolute shock.

	
I am trying. I really am. I want to surprise her. I
want to shock her. I'm not sure why. Some strange horny
little demon in me has decided not to let me move my
head from the warm nestle of her lap. Of course the day
I decide to play she is utterly engrossed in something
else. The file. She is holding it up and it's almost
completely covering her face. Either she is hiding from
me or she's really interested in this case. The
stewardess taps my leg, seeing that I am awake. She
wants me to move. I have no choice. 
	
I rise from the lap of my dreams and take off my
walkman. She is still reading. She hasn't even looked
at me. I look closely at her face to determine whether
she is ignoring me on purpose or if she is really
reading. She is staring at the page with confusion and
curiosity. I am uncharacteristically jealous of the
case. What is she so damn interested in? Some beastman? 
How is that more exciting than my head between her
legs?
	
"Anything you'd like to share with the class Miss
Scully?" She looks at me. Finally. She is frowning.
	
"The medical examiner. On this case. Jonas
Hawkins...are you...are you sure that's right?" Sure
that's right? What the hell is she talking about? I
have no idea why this would matter to her. Unless she
knows him.
	
"Pretty sure Scully. I mean I didn't double check or
anything but..why do you ask?" She looks frightened.
Then falsely dismissive.
	
"Oh it's nothing. I just um..I just think I know him
that's all." She knows him. Okay, so what? There must
be more to it than that.
	
"Where from?"
	
"From uh...from medical school. From uh...we uh...we
knew each other." What the hell does that mean? Why is
she so damn uncomfortable? I know I shouldn't push it
but I need to know. What is she hiding? Why is this
more interesting than me? Okay I know this is childish.
But I really went out on a limb back there. A limb for
me anyway. It's not too often that I take a risk like
that with Scully. And any reaction, any at all, would
have been more satisfying than this. 
	
"Were you friends? Were you close?" She shakes her head
and shoves the file into the briefcase under her seat.
It is a long laborious process and gives her an excuse
to avoid talking to me for a few minutes. She is really
freaked. Of course this makes me even more persistent.
"You weren't close? Did you dislike each other or
something? Is he a bad doctor? Do you think he's
untrustworthy?" Why do I hope that she does think just
that? 
	
"Mulder it's nothing. Just drop it okay?" She is
annoyed. Now I've really gotta know. I've touched a
nerve. This guy is a nerve. Why?
	
"Scully if it has to do with the case you need to tell
me. I mean if it's going to effect your judgment or
something..."
	
"It's not." End of story. She looks out the window. She
never looks out the window on a plane. 
	
"Well it might. It might be important Scully."
	
She turns to me. She's angry now. "Mulder it might not
even be the same person. In fact it's probably not.
Just forget it."
	
"It's probably the same person. He's a doctor right?
And it's an unusual name. You should probably..."
	
"We dated Mulder. Okay? We dated. That's all." Dated?
They dated. Okay. That's okay. Of course. She's a
beautiful woman. She had a life before she met me. So
she dated some dork in med school. A few dates. I can
deal with this. I will deal with this.
	
I try to mask any kind of emotion. Best poker face I
can manage. "Really? For how long?"
	
She stares straight ahead at the back of the seat in
front of her. She won't look at me anymore. "A while."
	
"What's awhile?" Why won't I stop? Why can't I stop?
	
"Just awhile. A couple years." Deep breath. Twiddle
thumbs nonchalantly. I can deal with this. I will deal
with this. Why the hell don't I know about this? 
	
"Couple years huh? That's a loooong time Scully. What
happened? How come no little forensic pathologists?"
Why did I say that? What the fuck is wrong with me. I
swear I wasn't even thinking about it. I swear to the
Gods above I was not trying to be mean. Sometimes I
just forget. Just for a millisecond. God why am I such
a dumb fuck?
	
Somehow she doesn't even seem to notice. She is just
staring. No expression. "It just..it didn't work.
That's all." I cut my losses. I will not ask her
anything else. I have become incapable of monitoring my
thoughts before they ooze from my mouth and I am
actually afraid of what I will say next. Maybe I will
pretend to sleep again until we arrive. Don't think
I'll be trying the lap trick again today though.

	
Mulder is annoyed. He is jealous. He is acting like a
bitch. Already. I can't believe this. The plane is
landing and he isn't even looking at me. Never mind
holding my hand the way he sometimes does when he can
tell I am afraid. It's not that I need him to. Hell I
don't even want him to but it's pissing me off for some
reason. We haven't even started the case yet, haven't
even seen Jonas yet. We still don't even know if it's
the same guy and he is giving me an attitude. Is it
because I refused to talk to him about it? Does he feel
like I am shutting him out? You know what, I don't
really care. I have enough to worry about right now
without catering to his childish fit. 
	
We land and I wince as the wheels hit the ground. This
is the worst part. He's still listening to his damn
walkman and staring blatantly at the stewardess's ass.
God I hate him sometimes. It makes me even angrier than
it would if he actually found her attractive to know
that he is doing it just to piss me off. He is so
transparent it's embarrassing. Is it my fault that we
have to work with Jonas? Did I ask for this? No
certainly not. In fact I am dreading it. Not only is it
likely to be extremely awkward for me to see him again,
it looks like dealing with Mulder is going to be
difficult to say the least. 
	
It's finally time to get off the damn plane and Mulder
gets up without a look or a word and starts rifling
through the overhead. His bag is stuck. He tugs at it
angrily. Soon it is going to fall on his head. I will
try not to laugh. Sure enough before long all the bags,
his, mine, about four or five other passengers', fall
to the floor and on top of him. He grumbles angrily and
rifles through them trying to find his bag. He
retrieves it and stalks off the plane leaving the rest
on the floor. What a gentleman.
	
He doesn't even wait for me. I am left waiting for
every passenger on the plane to find their luggage in
his mess. When I finally exit the plane I can't even
find him. Ditched at the airport. I suppose he has gone
to get the rest of the luggage. I go to the rental car
window and do my usual task. I rent a small car. He
will have to squeeze his huge legs to fit in it. I lean
against the wall after I'm done and wait for him to
show up. As the minutes pass I try to remember times
when I have been jealous. I remember a time when
Mulder's ex came to visit. Was I like this? No, if I
remember correctly I was gracious and even more
protective towards him than usual. Not that he even
noticed. Of course that was a long time ago. Mulder
hasn't even glanced at another woman in my presence for
over a year now. Well except for the stewardess just
now. I chose not to count that little display. How
would I react now? Certainly not the way he is
behaving. And he hasn't even seen us together. I've
given him no cause to think I am even remotely
interested in Jonas anymore. What the hell is his
problem?
	
He finally meets me after about a half an hour. He is
carrying our bags and a cup of coffee. Nice to know he
took some time to get aquatinted with the place while I
rotted here. "You get the car?" I hand him the keys as
a response. He looks at them like they are the most
offensive thing he has ever seen. "A Geo?"
	
"It was all they had." He sighs dramatically.
	
"Well lets go then." He drops my bags at my feet and
stomps away. 
	
The drive to the motel proves to be as pleasant as the
plane ride. He turns the car stereo up and chews a
stick of gum like a cow. He won't talk to me or look at
me and he's driving too damn fast. This can't be simple
jealousy. It must be the fact that I wouldn't tell him
what he wanted to know. Now he will be cross throughout
the entire case until I tell him. Never mind the fact
that I don't want to talk about it. Minor details like
that don't matter in Mulder's self-centered little
world. I feel my resolve slipping. I am about to give
in. I would rather talk about it then put up with his
petulance for an undetermined amount of time.
	
"He asked me to marry him." He turns to me and snaps
his gum. He looks at me like I have interrupted a very
important thought. 
	
"Oh really?" He turns back to the road with phony
nonchalance.
	
"Yeah really. I said yes. And then I said no. I changed
my mind. I wasn't ready. I was only twenty four. So
that's why we broke up." He smirks like he thinks this
is funny.
	
"Poor guy. Exactly how many hearts have you broken
Scully?" What the fuck? What the fuck does that mean?
It's not that I'm shutting him out. It is just
jealousy. Or something else. I don't know. I can't
figure him out on this one. I am tired of trying. 

	
Things are going very badly. I don't know what's wrong
with me. As we drive from the motel to the coroner I
replay a single mantra in my head. I will not be a
jerk. I will not be a jerk. I will not be a jerk. I
have a feeling it's not going to work. He is going to
be there. He. The man Scully almost married. The man I
had never even heard of until a few hours ago. She
almost married someone. How could she have kept that
from me? How could I not know about that? If I had
known I might have been able to prepare myself for this
moment. I might have known what to do. What to say. 
	
We pull up to the building and I feel an overwhelming
sense of dread. I actually feel sick to my stomach.
Scully walks about a foot behind me when we get inside.
She doesn't look too enthusiastic about this either.
She is upset about it. For some reason this makes me
more jealous than if she had been excited to see him.
You get excited when you're gonna see an old friend.
You get upset when you're going to see an old wound.
Why did I think all her wounds had heeled because of me
the way mine have because of her? How could I have been
so stupid?
	
We reach the door and I almost bolt. I cannot do this.
There must be something else I need to do. I look back
at her with my hand on the doorknob. She looks green.
She nods at me impatiently. She wants to get this over
with. I want to go home. I open the door. There are two
men standing over a half eaten corpse. One of them is
at least sixty. That can't be him. One of them is a
tall, muscular looking black guy who looks to me like
Denzel freaking Washington. That can't be him either.
The guy Scully was going to marry..he's a skinny,
awkward, loser. Like me. Except even more geeky. Not
some guy who looks like a movie star. Not some guy who
looks like he could kick my ass with his hands tied
behind his back. I feel relieved for a brief blissful
moment. It's not him. He's not here.
	
Scully comes in behind me and walks past me. "Jonas?"
The black guy turns around. Okay so he's Jonas. Not the
same one though. Please God don't let it be the same
one. He looks at her for a moment. The look on his face
tells me all I need to know. He knows her. He is
surprised, then elated. Oh God.
	
"Dana Scully?" They stare at each other for a moment.
He is dumfounded, she is shy. She is SHY. Her hands are
behind her back and she is sort of twirling her foot
around nervously. She looks like a kid. "My God it is
you. Dana Scully." He walks to her and grabs her around
the waist. He hugs her. He picks her up and twirls her
around in the fucking air. I am going to throw up. Any
second now. God help me.
	
She is hugging him back. Her arms are wrapped around
his neck and she is smiling. She is laughing as he
spins her around. I wish I'd brought that bag from the
plane. I look around for something, anything else to
think about. There's the body. And the old guy. He
looks vaguely uncomfortable. It is a strange scene. The
two of them hugging like that over a mangled corpse.
It's actually disgusting. Offensive. I clear my throat
trying to get their attention. Trying to make it stop.
He finally puts her down and steps back from her. His
arms are still on her waist. He's still fucking
touching her.
	
"Dana you look amazing. What are you doing here?" She's
still touching him. Her hands are on his arms. I have
to actually bite my tongue. Hold down my fists. All I
can think is "Get your fucking hands off her". 
	
"I'm here to work on this case." I'm here. She was
here. What about me? I'm here.
	
"You are? Are you the FBI doctor they sent?" She nods
happily. Why is she still touching him? He shakes his
head in disbelief. Yeah what a fucking coincidence.
We're all so moved. Must be fucking fate.
	
He moves away from her and takes his damn hands off her
waist and turns to the old guy. "This is doctor Gibson
our county coroner. Doctor Gibson this is an old friend
of mine. Dana Scully." He says her name with reverence.
Almost worship. I hate him. Scully shakes the doctor's
hand and I sit there like a lump on a log. She looks
over to me as an afterthought. Yeah Scully I still
exist. Nice of you to notice.
	
"Oh um..this is my partner. Agent Mulder." He turns to
me and shakes my hand. Tells me his stupid name. Like
it isn't burned into my skull already. His grip is
tight. His hand is huge. I hate him. We all stand
around the body looking at each other awkwardly for a
second. Can he tell that she is mine? Can he see the
claim I stake just by looking at her? I hope so. 
	
"So what have you got here?" Scully speaks. She puts on
a pair of goggles and surgical mask. Getting ready for
work. He puts his matching set on and they move close
to the body. Gibson takes off. He has other things to
take care of. Great. Just the three of us. One big
happy family. I sit on a stool in the corner of the
room. They start cutting and carving and taking
pictures of innards. I sit and watch like a useless
dunce.
	
"So how did you end up here Dana? Investigating weird
stuff like this? Thought you were gonna be a sections
chief by now."  Damn him. Damn him to hell. I see her
eyes above her mask. I try to meet them with my own.
Please Scully. Please tell him you want to be here. She
avoids my gaze and looks down at a pile of intestines
they are removing.
	
"Um..I'm not really interested in the FBI hierarchy
Jonas. I'm happy with my work. It's um...very
interesting." Thank you. Thank you God. So there. She's
happy. Any more questions asshole?
	
"Well that's terrific. I'm happy for you." Fucking
bastard.
	
"This is strange." She's holding a pile of mush. I try
to see what she's so interested in but it just looks
like the usual innards to me.
	
"Yeah that's why I called you. That's what made me
think these murders are related." They put the mush on
a scale, under a microscope, examine it from every
angle. What the hell is it? They are talking a language
I don't understand. I can't follow anything they are
saying. She's not even bothering to translate. He takes
another blob of mush out of the freezer and plops it
down next to the other one. They start comparing the
blobs. From what I can gather they are matching organs
from two different bodies. They have some kind of
markings on them. "See if you look closely you can see
that they're astrological symbols. Taurus and Gemini.
I've got an Aries in the freezer too." She looks
fascinated. Astrological symbols? Whatever. "Remember
the zodiac killer?" She nods. She looks completely
convinced. Yeah zodiac killer. That would explain the
human teeth marks. 
	
"Mulder you should look at this." She beckons me over
to look at the blobs. I look in the microscope. There
are some markings. They look like burns. I don't see
any astrological symbols though. Not that I'm looking
too carefully.
	
"That's interesting but what do you think about the
teeth marks on the bones?" I ask her. He answers.
	
"Well that's certainly the strangest thing about all
this. Some folks seem to think that we're dealing with
some kind of man eating beast or something equally
ridiculous. But these markings show that this is being
done by someone with enough intelligence and advanced
motor skills to brand his victims with a very specific
symbol. I've been thinking maybe what we're looking at
is some kind of cult activity. Maybe some kind of human
sacrifice." Cannibalistic astrological cults? Yeah
that's plausible. 
	
"That does sound more likely than Bigfoot. Don't you
think Mulder?" That's Scully.
	
"Bigfoot?" He laughs. "You must have gotten that from
Gibson. He's um..a little nuts for that Bigfoot theory.
Lots of people around here are."
	
"Well maybe there's a reason for that. I tend to find
that people usually don't believe in something like
that completely randomly. If a lot of the citizens in
this town think there's something to that theory we
shouldn't dismiss it so flippantly." He shakes his
head.
	
"Mister Mulder a lot of people around here believe in a
lot of ludicrous things. It's a small town. People tend
to make things up. Out of boredom more than anything
else. You know how rumors spread when people are bored
and frightened."
	
"But.."
	
"Mulder the markings."
	
"Scully I don't see any damn markings. It just looks
like random burns to me." I didn't mean that to come
out so harshly. I really didn't.
	
"Mulder have you even bothered to look?" Damn her. Of
course I looked. I'm just not hallucinating like the
two of them. 
	
"Even if it is random burns, which seems unlikely, why
would an animal burn the innards of its human victim?"
That was Jonas. Could have been Scully. It's getting
damn hard to tell the two of them apart. I think part
of me realizes that they are right. That my theory is
evaporating before my eyes. But that part of me is
overshadowed by the other parts of me. The defensive,
territorial parts. I realize that I cannot be here any
more. That this is a waste of time. They aren't going
to listen to me so fine. Whatever. I'll just leave.
Then again...I look at the two of them huddled over
their specimen about an inch between them...is it
better to leave them alone together and end the torture
of watching this or is it better to stay and keep them
from getting too close? A few seconds later and there
is no contest. I cannot watch. 
	
"Scully I'm gonna take off. I want to do some research.
See if there's any connection between the victims."
Yeah that sounds good. A nice logical thing to do. Not
about to tell these two that I'm planning on going to
the woods to look for Bigfoot droppings. She nods
absently. She doesn't even care. I don't want to leave
her here. I can't stay. 

End part 1 of 6







Title: Volition Unbound (2/6)
Author: Rachel Anton
E-mail: RaValliano@aol.com
see part one for disclaimer, summary etc.

	
"Um your partner seems a little....cranky". Cranky.
That is the understatement of the universe. He spent
the entire time here sulking in the corner and his only
words were belligerent. He even slammed the door on the
way out for good measure. He is beyond cranky. I don't
even know how to describe what he is. We finish the
autopsy and scrub up together It is time for me to go.
Why don't I?
	
"So Dana, what have you been doing with yourself?" He
means besides all this. Besides work and my cranky
partner. I have no answer. This is it for me.
	
"Um not too much. How about you?"
	
"Oh you know. Just life and stuff. Hey um..what are you
doing later tonight? Thought maybe we could have a
drink and really catch up." Oh God. What am I doing
later tonight? Probably eating take out in my room and
arguing with Mulder some more. For some reason this
seems utterly unappealing at this moment.
	
"Yeah. I guess..I guess that would be okay." I give him
the telephone number at the hotel and tell him to give
me a call later. What am I doing? What the hell am I
doing? Do I really want to get these old feelings
stirred up again? Is this a good idea at this point? I
tell myself that it's not a big deal, that it's not a
date. It's just catching up with an old friend. But I
know it's more than that. And I know Mulder will see it
as more than that. 
	
Not that I should be counting Mulder's opinion for much
at this point. He seems to have completely lost any
trace of rationality. But I can't help feeling slightly
guilty for accepting his invitation. I know it's going
to hurt Mulder's feelings. I am not interested in
hurting his feelings as much as he is annoying me
today. There have been times when I have wanted to make
him jealous, to get his attention, make him think of me
as a woman and not just his partner. There have also
been times when I have felt like teasing him, stirring
his curiosity and ire just for fun. This really is not
one of those times. I have his attention. I have so
much of his attention lately that it's almost too much.
It's almost stifling. Funny how these things can
backfire on you. About a year ago I was desperate for
Mulder's affection. I was actually jealous of the
obsessive energies he devoted to his quest, his work. I
thought he was taking me for granted. I thought his
goals were swallowing us both and that my obsession
with him was leaving me completely empty and
dissatisfied. I thought I would never get back what I
gave. That I could never be the focus of his life the
way he was of mine. So I went and I slept with someone
else. Well, not really but I let Mulder believe that I
had. Nice mature response I know. I was just so damn
sick of him thinking of me as boring old reliable
Scully. Scully who has nothing better to do than  be
his personal secretary, to be at his beck and call 24
hours a day. And yes, to show him that some people
actually do find me attractive even if he is not one of
them. 
	
A year ago I would have almost been happy about running
into Jonas this way. I might have seen it as an
opportunity to show Mulder a thing or two. To get him
back for all the bimbos named after forest creatures
and the emaciated cult members. Not anymore. I'm not
sure if it was Ed Jerse or the cancer or the things we
learned when he faked his death or something else
entirely but somewhere along the way I became the focus
of Mulder's obsessive energies. I sensed the shift in
him a long time ago. But I was sick. I thought the end
was right around the corner and I almost resented him
for his feelings. I thought it was too late. I think
maybe he did too and that's why he started to let
things slip. Then I got better. It wasn't too late
anymore. And we have been floundering in this strange
place ever since. 
	
He needs me. He wants me. He loves me. He worships and
adores me. I know these things now as sure as I know
that I feel them for him. The feelings between us are
so strong and so obvious and yet so repressed that I am
slowly suffocating under the force. Sexual tension has
become sexual strangulation. Flirtation has become
almost cruel. And yet we continue, we continue and we
increase the torture because sooner or later one of us
is going to reach the breaking point. I think both of
us are trying to force the other one to snap. It is a
strange dance. I think that I have been the more brazen
one but Mulder has certainly surprised me once or
twice. The point is I no longer need his jealousy as
validation. I have seen his jealousy, his deep, painful
jealousy, and it is not a pretty sight. I have seen how
desperately he needs me. It may sound arrogant to say
that he can barely function without me but I know this
to be true as well. Most men can't without their wives.
And that is what I have become to Mulder. A wife
without conjugal privileges.
	
So why did I say yes to Jonas? Why did I give him my
phone number and agree to go out with him tonight? I
try to figure this out as I ride to the hotel in the
back of the cab. Yes the cab. Mulder ditched me at the
morgue and forgot to mention he was taking the Geo. God
only knows where he really went and when he will decide
to return. So I called a cab. Why did I say yes? I
don't want to hurt Mulder. And seeing Jonas made me
realize that the feelings I had for him once are more
or less gone. He is very attractive, very intelligent,
very kind. But I don't love him. Not any more. I never
loved him the way I love Mulder. So why? What am I
trying to accomplish here? Perhaps it is just the fact
that I could never say no to that man. I don't know
what it is about him but I never felt comfortable
refusing him anything. In retrospect I think that's why
I accepted his proposal in the first place. And now
I've gotten myself into a hell of a situation. What am
I going to tell Mulder? I can already imagine the way
he'll look when he hears about this. I can see the
wounded animal in his eyes. My irritation at him starts
to melt away. He's acting like a jack ass because he
loves me. Even if he is still too scared to do anything
about it. 

	
I did not want to end up this way. I have done
everything in my limited power to avoid it. A lovesick
moron wandering around the woods, looking for Bigfoot.
Not because I care about Bigfoot mind you. If I did
this might not seem so pathetic. No I really don't care
that much at all. The only reason I am out here is
because I am desperate to prove myself to her. To show
her that I was right and he was wrong and that I am not
a complete fool. 
	
How did I end up here? When she first walked into my
life I saw the potential for this. I knew the minute I
saw her that if I wasn't careful I was going to fall in
love with her. So I was careful, Lord how I was
careful. I added rock and mortar to the walls already
covering my heart and whenever part of her managed to
seep through the cracks I would rebuild immediately.
And it worked. Almost. Until she disappeared. Until I
realized that she had become as integral to my survival
as air or water. That without her I was nothing, an
empty shell of a man. When she was returned to me I
tried to rebuild those walls. But too much damage had
been done. She was in there. I tried to expel her by
thinking about other women. Thinking about the work.
Thinking about anything but her. I even tried to get
her to hate me. To push her away and take her for
granted but give just enough so that she wouldn't leave
me. I needed her there you see. But I couldn't handle
her trying to get closer to me. But that didn't work
either. I couldn't keep it up for long. And no matter
how far off the deep end I went she was always right
there, helping me through to the other side. But I
still didn't let her completely inside. There was
enough to distract me, enough to keep me focused on
other things, at least some of the time. 
	
Then she went and did...that. I can't even en make
myself think of it. She went and scared the living
daylights out of me. She showed me what would happen if
I kept treating her like office furniture. She showed
me what she could do, what she could be without me. And
she took away the aura of saintliness, of
untouchability that surrounded her. She planted the
image in my head and I let myself really see it for the
first time. This is when the dreams started. It might
be surprising to know that I don't really fantasize
about Scully. I can't. I just...can't. True her name is
always on my lips every time I reach orgasm. It is her
face I see. But I never have actual fantasies about
her. Not conscious ones anyway. I don't allow it. But
the dreams, God the dreams have been haunting me for
over a year now. Dreams in which I make love to her in
every way, every place and time imaginable. Dreams in
which I watch her masturbate. Sometimes if I am feeling
particularly bad about myself, dreams in which I watch
other people make love to her. Because I am not good
enough. Because I am not allowed to touch her. 
	
And after the dreams started she got sick. And I
realized what I had been wasting all along. What I was
about to lose. And I let everything in. I let her
become the focus of my existence. All that mattered to
me was that she get better. And then she did. Suddenly
and miraculously she did. And I realized that I
couldn't go back. There was no way for me to take those
feelings and shove them back inside. There was also no
way for me to act on them. So here I am, a lovesick
moron. And an impotent one at that. I cannot even allow
myself to fantasize about the woman I love. How could I
ever let myself make love to her. Not that she is
likely to want that anyway. But I have been happy
regardless. I have been riding on the high of seeing
her get better for months now. And she has seemed
relatively happy as well. Things have been good, if
somewhat strange between us. Until today. Until him.
Until I realized once again how easy it is for me to
get hurt by her. How completely she holds the key to my
heart, my soul, my sanity in her hands. I cannot go on
this way. 
	
I kick a tree in frustration. I will not go on this
way. There is nothing here. This is a waste of time.
It's time to go back to the hotel and start figuring
out how to get those walls back where they belong. It's
time to stop making a fool out of myself and face
reality. 

	
I'm not going to go. No I am definitely not going to
go. An hour of pacing the floor of my hotel room has
convinced me that this is not a good idea. When he
calls I will just tell him that we have a lead and that
I have to go follow it up. It's just not worth it. It's
not worth hurting Mulder to talk to Jonas for a few
hours. Even though it might be fun. Even though I am
vaguely curios about what he has been doing with his
life. Even though it might give me some sense of
closure with him. Finally. I just can't do it to
Mulder. To us. I will talk to him when he gets back. I
will ask him to tell me more about his Bigfoot theory.
I will be as patient and understanding as humanly
possible. Then we can get some Chinese food and talk
some more about the case and everything will be back to
normal. That's all I want right now. I just want things
to get back to normal.
	
I hear a door slam next door. He's back. I hear him
shuffling around, opening and closing drawers, banging
things around and grumbling. He sounds angry. I knock
tentatively on the door separating our rooms. 
	
"S'open." I open the door and find him pulling on a
pair of sweatpants. He
is naked from the waist up. I try not to notice. 
	
"You're back." He looks at me like this is the
stupidist thing I have ever 
said.
	
"Apparently." He brushes past me and grabs his sneakers
from the floor.
	
"Did you find anything?" He yanks a T-shirt from his
bag on the bed and pulls it on with unnecessary
harshness.
	
"Just a lot of manure Scully." 
	
"So um..where are you going now?"
	
"Out." I see. We're going to play this stupid game.
	
"Well I thought maybe we could talk about the case.
Maybe get some dinner or something. I've been thinking
about your Bigfoot theory and.."
	
"I don't have a Bigfoot theory. I'm sure you and your
friend were right Scully. Just forget it okay. You know
I'm not even sure we should be here. I'm starting to
think this isn't an X-file at all."
	
"Excuse me? Mulder I'm not sure about Bigfoot but there
are enough irregularities in the case to warrant..."
	
"Fine. Whatever. We'll stay then. Whatever you want
Scully. Whatever you want." He picks up his walkman and
heads for the door. My warm feelings are starting to
vanish rapidly. The irritation is back. But I haven't
given up. Not yet. I walk after him and grab his arm.
	
"Mulder don't leave yet. I really wanted to talk to you
for awhile. We don't have to talk about the case if you
don't feel like it. Maybe we could just have dinner."
He pulls his arm from me furiously and backs away.
	
"Scully no. Just...just no." What is wrong with him? I
don't understand this. I thought he would be happy that
I wanted to spend some time with him. I thought maybe
we could forget about all the pissiness today. But it
just keeps getting worse. I can't take it anymore. 
	
'Mulder what the hell is your problem? All I want to do
is talk to you and you're acting like..."
	
"I don't want to talk Scully. All right? Is that okay?"
He is yelling at me. He never yells at me. Not like
this. "I just want to get the hell out of here. I just
want you to leave me the hell alone. Do you think you
can do that for just five fucking minutes?"
	
There is a ringing in the back of my head. He has
yelled so loudly my ears are ringing. I feel my throat
start to close up. I am going to cry in a second. He
has never talked to me this way. I never realized how
much it would hurt. I don't understand it. I just don't
understand. Our eyes meet and he looks terribly guilty,
terribly sad. He looks like he is about to cry himself.
Then he looks angrily behind me, into my room.
	
"Would you answer your goddamn phone already? It's
giving me a headache." Phone. It's my phone not my
ears. Dammit. I stand glued to the floor. How can I
answer the phone now? "Scully go. It might be
important." It is not important. It's Jonas. I am
almost sure of that. Maybe I should answer. Maybe if
Mulder hears me turning him down he will stop this
insanity. 
	
"All right but don't go anywhere. Mulder please. We
need to talk about this. Just wait here okay?" He rolls
his eyes and nods. I go back to my room, leaving the
doors open so he can hear what I am going to say. I
pick up the phone. I hear Jonas' voice. And then I hear
Mulder's door open and slam shut. I ask Jonas to hold
on a second and run out the door. I see Mulder's back
quickly disappearing. He is running away. Literally and
figuratively. 

	
Run and run and just keep running. It's the story of my
life. It's the story of my death. I run because it is
the only way I know how to forget. How to leave the
troubles in my mind completely behind me. Part of me
actually believes if I run fast enough and far enough
it will all just go away. I'll enter another world, or
another dimension, or another state of consciousness
or..something. If only I could run enough.
	
Mister fucking cool. That's what I wanted to be. What a
fucking joke. I was doing fine until she touched me. I
was calm, I was cold, I barely felt a thing. It was
easy. So easy to shut down. Then she had to go and
touch me. She had to go and make me lose my shit
entirely. I wish I could make myself hate her for that.
I just wanted her to leave me alone, to go away and
stop hurting me. Not that she was trying to hurt me of
course. She was trying to reach out to me. But
sometimes that is the worst pain of all because I
cannot reach back. 
	
Leaving like this, running away from her in the middle
of that, it was probably one of the stupidist moves
I've made in a long time. She is going to be furious.
Not that she probably wasn't already. First I am rude
and obnoxious to her all day. Then when she tries, for
some inexplicable reason, to be nice to me, to call a
truce, I blow up at her for no good reason at all. None
that she knows about anyway. And then when she begs me
to stay so that we can talk about what the hell my
problem is, I run away without a word to her. Yes it's
classic Mulder. Be an asshole and then flee. Reminds me
of my father, hollering at my mother for no reason and
then leaving the house for days with no explanation.
I've inherited a lot of wonderful traits from that man.
My mother was a saint for putting up with him as long
as she did. I wonder if people say the same thing about
Scully. I wonder how much longer she will be able to
put up with me? I wonder if she even should.
	
In a strange way this thing with Jonas has given me a
kind of fatalistic attitude. I feel like this is a
chance for her, an opportunity for escape. He still has
feelings for her. I could see it just in the way he
looked at her. She could have him back in an instant if
she wanted. And he could give her a descent life. A
normal life. And I feel like this is some kind of final
showdown between me and a normal life. I am not
offering much of a case for the me side of that choice.
I should be fighting for her not against her. If I know
what's good for me I should be with her now, trying to
explain why I have been treating her so shabbily,
begging for her forgiveness. But I know I won't do
that. I know I can't. And I think it might be better
for her if I didn't. 
	
A light snow starts to fall on the street in front of
me. It's really very beautiful here. The mountains and
the trees. It's a very small town. So small I think
I've run through the entire thing already. There is
nowhere left to go. I suppose I could head for the
hills. Try to run the Rockies. That would be something.
I'll bet I could really get lost up there. Maybe no one
would ever find me. I could become a mountain man. Paul
Bunyun. Or Bigfoot. I could become Bigfoot and then
Scully wouldn't believe in me. Then she'd be able to
have her normal life without feeling guilty about me.
Alright, I have been running for too long now. I am
having delirious fantasies about turning into Bigfoot.
It's time to go back to the hotel. Or better yet, back
to Washington. Maybe I can plead my case again. Maybe
I'll be able to change her mind and we can get the hell
out of here. There really isn't much here in terms of a
case. Nothing I care about anyway. I am leaving. If she
wants she can come with me and if not, well I guess
that will be enough of an answer for me. 
 

End part 2 of 6




Title: Volition Unbound (3/6)
Author: Rachel Anton
E-mail: RaValliano@aol.com
see part one for disclaimer, summary, etc.
	
	
Champagne and lobster. This is Jonas' idea of "going
out for drinks". He has taken me to the nicest
restaurant in town and is in the process of wining and
dining me. I suppose I am letting him. I suppose it
feels kind of nice for a change. I suppose it is better
than being yelled at for no reason whatsoever. Yes I
decided to go after all. Does this make me a terrible
person? I don't know but I do know that the prospect of
sitting alone in my hotel room and brooding seemed like
the only other option. 
	
Is this what normal people do? Go out on dates to nice
restaurants with men that actually ask them questions
about their lives and feelings and sometimes even
listen to the answers? I suppose it is. This is what I
used to have. With Jonas. With some other people.
Before Mulder. Before Mulder I was a normal person with
a normal life. I try to remember what it was like to
have a relationship. What was it like with Jonas? I
look over at him and wonder. He is very good looking,
and becoming more so as I finish yet another glass of
champagne. The sex was pretty good too if I remember
correctly. The best I've had actually, which of course
isn't saying much. But still, I think we had a good
time together. I think I loved him. But for the life of
me I can't remember why. 
	
Logically I do. I mean he is a terrific person. All the
things a normal woman would want in a man. Normal. He
is so normal. Our relationship was so normal. I guess
that was the problem. I try to imagine what a
relationship with Mulder would be like. A real bonafide
relationship. What would it be like to have him take me
out on a date, to have him come over my house at night
and watch movies snuggled up together on the couch?
Would he ever want to do these things even if we were
in a relationship? Would he be demanding? Monopolize
every minute of my life? Even more than he does now?
Would he be affectionate in public? Give me big wet
kisses in airports? And the sex..what would that be
like? I start to feel the same warm flush rushing
through my body. The same feeling I always get when I
ask myself that question. I can't even imagine. I am
almost afraid to imagine. But for some reason I start
to imagine. I am sitting across the table from Jonas
only half listening to him tell me about his normal
life and his normal friends and all I can think is "If
this was a date with Mulder he would be going down on
me under the tablecloth by now." Not that I have any
reason to believe this. Just a hunch that's all. A very
distracting hunch.
	
Why am I thinking about this? I must be some kind of
masochist. Fantasizing about a man who just bit my head
off for asking him to have dinner with me. When there
is a perfectly sane man right across the table from me.
I try to focus back on him, to listen and engage, but
the seed has been planted and now I am too horny to
even think straight. So I just nod like the tipsy fool
that I have become. 
	
"And then I decided to move out here to be closer to my
brother and.." the rest of that sentence drifts off. I
have only been catching snippets since the words sex
and Mulder entered my brain at the same time. Damn him.
He has to intrude on everything. He can't leave me
alone. As if to validate that theory the metallic
shrill of my cell phone starts emanating from my
pocket. Damn him. 
	
"Jonas I'm sorry. Would you excuse me for a second?"
	
"Of course." He stands politely as I leave the table.
So damn polite. Such a gentlemen. Why does that
irritate me so? I walk to the area between the pay
phone and restrooms and answer the phone in the
crankiest way possible.
	
"Scully it's me." Hey what a surprise. 
	
"What is it Mulder?"
	
"Where are you?" He sounds annoyed. He really expected
me to sit around and wait, possibly for hours, for his
return and the continuation of abuse Scully day. I
decide to take a page out of his book.
	
"I'm out. What is it?"
	
"Out where?"
	
"I'm having dinner Mulder." And you could be here with
me if you weren't such a fucked up psycho. I instantly
regret that thought and hope words like that never make
their way out of my mouth.
	
"Oh. Well um..I was just thinking, I think I'm gonna
head back to DC Scully. I just, I really don't think
there's anything here for us and I've got a pile of
files I wanted to check out about a mile high so..."
	
"Fine Mulder. Whatever. We'll leave tomorrow." I am not
going to argue this anymore. It's just not important
enough to me. 
	
"Actually I was thinking of leaving tonight. I was
gonna call the airport and see..."
	
"Mulder if you want to leave tonight then go all right.
I'm in the middle of something here. I'll catch up with
you tomorrow." I hang up. Too soon. I don't care. He
wasn't going to apologize and that is the only thing I
wanted to hear from him at this point.

	
Damn. Damn and damn and damn some more. What the fuck
Scully? "What the fuck?" I say it into the receiver
knowing full well there is no one on the other end. I
slam the phone down angrily. What the hell is her
problem? Of course I know what it is. It's me. She's
obviously still upset about my ridiculous outburst
earlier. And how could I blame her for that. I've
succeeded in completely driving her away. And right
into his arms. She's with him. I'm almost sure about
that. Why didn't I just apologize? Why didn't I tell
her I was sorry and that I want to see her and that I
need her and I love her and I can't stand this crap
anymore. Why do I have to be such a fucking coward?
	
I could have stopped her. I could have gotten her away
from him. If I hadn't given her that stupid attitude
she would have listened to me and I could have gotten
her to come back here. But what good would that have
done us really? I still wouldn't be able to tell her
how I feel. And she would be stuck here with me in the
same situation. It's probably for the best. I'm sure
she's having a better time with him anyway. But I can't
stay here and wait to find out. I don't want to be here
when she doesn't come back tonight. Or worse yet when
she brings him back here. Or possibly even worse when
she comes back alone and tells me all about her
wonderful night and the fact that she's finally
realized what a waste of her time I am. I have to get
out of here.
	
I call the airport. Plenty of flights. Take your pick.
I make a reservation for a direct flight to DC taking
off in three hours. Perfect. Plenty of time. Yep just
gotta get my stuff together and check out and then I'll
be on my way. So why am I not on my way? Why am I glued
to this seat in front of the window staring out into
space? Waiting. What is wrong with me? What am I
waiting for? Why can't I leave?
	
Maybe it is a strong desire to torture myself. Maybe it
is an obscene curiosity. Maybe it is the last lingering
hope that she will not do this. That she won't be able
to hurt me this way. All I know is I cannot make myself
go. I watch the snow fall onto the deserted parking
lot. The rented Geo and a beat up pick up truck are the
only vehicles out there. He probably picked her up. He
will have to drop her off if she wants to come back
here. If they are going to spend the night together it
will probably be here. Next door. Just a few feet away
from me. She thinks I am leaving. She won't know I'm
here. She won't know to be quiet. I switch the light
off. I don't want her to know I am here. I don't want
her to see me in the window, watching, waiting for her. 
I want to hear her. God help me I need to hear her. No
matter how much it kills me. No matter how much it
turns me on to hear the sounds she makes. No matter how
much rage..God I feel my fists clenching just thinking
about it. I know I would have to kill him. I know I
would have to break down the fucking door and kill him
with my bare hands. But still I need to hear it. How
fucked up is that? 
	
I should go. I should let her be. Let her get on with
her life without me. Let her make her choice and go
home already. But I can't. I simply can't. I am so
nervous and worked up that I am starting to sweat. I
open the window and let the cold breeze run over my
oversensitized skin. I feel like everything in my body
is on full alert tonight. Everything feels different.
More. Just more. It's so silent out there. So peaceful.
So different from what is going on inside me. Inside I
am a churning, burning mess. I want her to come back. I
am so afraid of her coming back. I need her to come
back. One way or the other I need to know. I need to
see.  It's judgment day. It's the beginning or the end
of the rest of my life. Either way I cannot leave.

	
We're almost there. Just a few more blocks and we will
be at the hotel. And I will have to say good-bye. Good-
bye and I am flying back to Washington in the morning
and I will probably never see you again but it's been
fun and by the way I am really horny and I know I'm
never gonna get any from the person I really want so do
you wanna stay over and have a meaningless one night
stand that might make me feel a little bit better for
about three minutes? Yeah that's gonna go over real
well. 
	
 What am I doing? What am I planning on doing? God I
don't even know. I can tell he wants me. I'm not an
idiot. And I know him well enough to recognize the
signs. I could have him tonight. So easily. Mulder
would never even have to know. He is probably half way
to Washington by now. Still in a lovely mood I am sure.
Why does the thought make me feel so guilty? Why do I
feel like I would be cheating on him? It's not fucking
fair. I can't have sex with anyone else for my whole
life because of him but he will never have sex with me.
It's not fucking fair anymore. I am just buzzed enough
to think that this is a perfectly justified rage. Never
mind the fact that he is in the same situation. At this
point I could care less. 
	
God how long has it been? Years and years. I think
there's a coat of rust around my goddamn vagina its
been shut down for so long. It would be nice. It would
be so nice. And I wouldn't have to feel that guilty
about it. Not really. It's not like there would be any
feeling behind it. It would be one step up from a
vibrator on the meaningful partner scale. And I don't
feel guilty about that. Yes champagne really does
wonders for the old moral compass. 
	
I have to admit I am somewhat nervous about this. It's
not as bad as it might be if it was a completely new
person. But still, when you are celibate for a long
enough period of time you tend to start to wonder if
you even know how to do it anymore. I guess it's like
riding a bike. Not that I was ever too terrific at
riding a bike. 
	
"So, here we are." Well, here we are. And it's time to
make some kind of decision. Any kind of decision. "Let
me walk you to the door." The door? The door is about
ten feet away from where he parked. This gentleman
stuff is about to go too far. Still it saves me for a
minute or so. We walk to the door and stand in front of
it looking at each other for a while. It's cold. And
snowing. So beautiful here. 
	
"It was really nice to see you again Dana." Dana...who
is Dana? I forgot. I search his eyes, trying
desperately to find the person I once was. The person
he saw. What does he see now? Do I wear my insane life
like a badge? Can everyone see it? "I've missed you a
lot." Yes, yes so have I. I have missed Dana a lot.
Dana was a woman. Dana got laid. He reaches his hand up
to my face. He strokes my cheek. He is going to kiss
me. My God he is going to kiss me. Is that okay? I have
no idea. His lips touch mine briefly and I feel a
spark. Well more like a dull fizzle but it's something.
Never mind the fact that I feel more when Mulder is
merely in the same room with me. Hell he doesn't even
have to be. All I have to do is think of him being in
the same room and I feel more than this but Mulder
isn't here now. And Mulder is never going to be here.
Not like this. 
	
So I kiss him back. I kiss him again. And again. 

	
I am a sick person. Truly and completely mentally
deranged. Who but a sick person would be sitting in the
dark like some kind of fucking pervert watching the
woman he loves kissing someone else and becoming
simultaneously erect and nauseous? Of course there is
more than that. There is anger and hatred, there is
jealousy and rage, there is a loneliness more profound
than I have ever felt in my life. But those are the two
most predominant responses. Physical responses. Arousal
and sickness. Why do they have to go together for me?
Almost all the time. It's always been like this. Sex
and death. They are forever joined in my consciousness.
Perhaps that's why I've never been able to see Scully
as a sexual person. To do that would mean subjecting
her to my sickness. It would mean associating her with
pain forever in my mind. 
	
I don't want to be watching this. God I should not be
watching this. But she is so beautiful, even now. The
snow is falling on her hair and her face. It's sticking
to her. She looks like a princess. And her mouth. Sweet
Jesus her mouth. I have never seen her kiss anyone. I
have never allowed myself to imagine her kissing me. I
had no idea how gorgeous she would look. Her lips even
more swollen than usual, her perfect tongue flicking
seductively in and out. She's so...God she's so fucking
hot. I can't take it anymore. I feel something wet hit
my lips and realize I am crying. Motherfucker. She
moans, a tiny erotic little sound and I have to touch
myself. I can't help it. I don't want to but before I
even know what is happening I am running my hand over
my cock. My God am I a sick bastard. 
	
Her hands reach up and stroke his hair. Almost without
realizing it I lift my free hand, the one that isn't
touching my goddamn dick through my pants, and run it
through my hair. It should be her hand. It should be my
hair. It should be my fucking hair. How can you touch
him like that Scully? God, how? I sob silently to
myself. I cannot let her hear me. She can't know I am
here. But it's so hard not to cry out, to scream from
the pain. 
	
He turns her around and pushes her against the door.
His hands are all over her. Her waist, her hips. I pull
my hand furiously away from my head and reach for the
gun on the table next to me. It's there. Just in case.
Just in case he gets carried away and she doesn't want
it. God Scully please don't want it. Please. He stops
kissing her and looks at her. He is gasping for air. He
wants her so much. Christ who wouldn't. 
	
"I never stopped loving you Dana." It takes a moment
for me to realize that was his voice and not the one in
my head. When comprehension sets in time completely
stops. Loves her. He loves her. He doesn't even fucking
know her anymore. He doesn't love her. How could he
love her? I love her. What he feels, it can't possibly
approach what I feel. Can it? It is Scully after all.
It is hard for me to imagine anyone not loving her. But
no, no he can't feel what I feel. He can't. How could
he have the gall to even suggest such a thing. Fucking
bastard.
	
Then something else hits me. If he could still love her
after all this time..no. No she can't. She can not.
This is just physical. It has to be. Seeing her give
her body to someone else, it kills me inside. It
destroys everything good in me. But her heart, her
mind, her soul, God her heart, I have to believe that
those belong to me. I have to. I have to believe that
this whole time, all these years that I have spent,
these long painful years, falling in love with her
against my own will, helpless to stop it, I have to
believe that she wasn't thinking about him, missing
him, loving him. I have to believe that because if I
don't I will have to kill myself with this gun in my
hand. I can hardly see her face. I can't see her eyes.
What is she thinking? What will she say to him? I love
you too? My hands clench simultaneously around my cock
and around my gun as a shooting pain grips my entire
body. I bite my lip to keep from calling out to her,
begging her to make it stop. To make it better. I have
to believe she will make it better. She makes
everything better. Scully please. Please don't love
him. Please.

	
Loving me. He never stopped loving me. Loving? Me? I
can't even speak for a moment. I am so confused. Was he
talking to me? I almost look around to find the woman
he must have been talking to. Then I realize, he was
talking to Dana. He really doesn't realize that Dana
doesn't live here anymore. I feel like laughing. It
really is just so funny. He doesn't even know what he
is saying. He is in love with a person who doesn't
exist anymore. He is in love with a memory. I feel
sorry for him. I really do. And I feel even more guilty
about what I was planning to do.
	
I pull back from him and push him away a bit. I shake
my head and search his eyes for some sense of
familiarity. There is none. I almost wish I could love
him back. My life might be easier if I did. But it's a
ridiculous thought. I never could. Never.
	
"Um..Jonas. I really..um...I'm sorry but I can't do
this." He looks hurt but not terribly surprised. I have
done this to him before. I am always pulling the rug
out from under him. But better now than later. He sighs
and drops his arms to his sides. He looks like a
deflated balloon.
	
"I really am sorry. I didn't mean to lead you on. I
just..I don't think this would be fair to you." Or to
Mulder. Or to me. God how could I have even been
thinking of this.
	
"Why not?" God don't make me say it. I have to say it.
I have to make him understand.
	
"Because I...I don't love you anymore." He takes a deep
breath and I let one out. Painful but a relief. "I'm
sorry. I just don't. And it wouldn't be fair to do this
and have you thinking I did and that we could ever have
anything real together. I mean the truth is I'm in love
with someone else and you would have just been a
substitute and I can't do that to you. Or him. Or
myself." Alright, too much information. It's time to
shut up now. He looks upset and confused but he accepts
it. He has moved several feet away from me. 
	
"I'm sorry Dana. I didn't even realize you were seeing
someone else. You didn't mention that at dinner." He
sounds almost accusatory. I suppose he has a right. I
have been using him and jerking him around. I only just
this minute have started to think of him as a human
being with real feelings and not some life sized
substitute for a vibrator.
	
"I'm um...I'm actually not seeing anyone."
	
"Oh. So then what? Is it an ex-boyfriend or something?"
God how can I possibly explain this to him? Why have I
even started? Am I that desperate to talk about it? 
	
"Um..no. We've never actually been together." He shakes
his head like this is ridiculous but perfectly
understandable from me.
	
"That's classic. Classic Dana Scully. How perfectly
safe. How pleasantly unthreatening to love someone who
doesn't love you back." This makes me very angry. What
the hell does he know about it?
	
"Jonas it's not that simple all right. And we can't
choose the people we love."
	
"Believe me I know." He looks at me pointedly. Damn
him. He doesn't even know what he's talking about.
	
"You don't love me Jonas. You love the person I used to
be. You don't even know me anymore."
	
"Alright if it makes you feel better to believe that
then go ahead. But Dana I hate to see you throw your
love away."
	
"I'm not..."
	
"It's your partner isn't it?" I am not going to answer
that. I turn angrily away from him and start to work
the key in the lock of my door.

"Dana, I can tell that it is. Look at me." He grabs my
shoulders and turns me back to face him. "You are a
beautiful woman, a good person, a wonderful lover. I
just don't want to see that go to waste. If you can't
love me I can accept that but there are other men out
there who would be able to love you back." What the
hell? I wanted a date not a therapy session. 
	
"Look Mulder is just.." damn why did I say his name.
"He's just afraid of love. He can't really deal with
those kind of relationships. Not yet anyway. It's very
complicated."
	
"So you're just gonna wait for him forever? I'm sorry.
I know this is none of my business. I just...I want to
see you happy that's all." I can see that he is sincere
about this. I will try to set his mind at ease.
	
"I am happy Jonas."
	
"Then why are you out here with me?" I have no real
answer to that one. He leans in and kisses me on the
cheek. "Goodnight Dana. It really was nice seeing you
again. Felt just like old times." I suppose that is
both a compliment and an insult. 
	
"Goodnight Jonas." I watch him walk to his car and
drive out of my life and wonder what the hell just
happened here. Why do I feel like I just got hit by a
truck? 


End part 3 of 6




Title: Volition Unbound (4/6)
Author: Rachel Anton
E-mail: RaValliano@aol.com
see part one for disclaimer, summary, etc.

	
A long time passes before I can even move. I've been
sitting like this, one hand on my cock, the other on my
gun, like some surreal country and western song, for
what seems like forever. I haven't even shifted my
position since she started talking. Since she started
saying those..things. I think I am in shock. I feel
cold and almost numb. This can't be real. It
just...can't. I must have been hallucinating. I must be
losing my mind. 
	
I have to admit when she first started telling him all
this I thought she was making it up. I thought it was a
situation she had invented to get out of sleeping with
him. And that made me happy. God did it ever make me
happy. She doesn't love him. She doesn't fucking love
him. Of course. How could I have ever doubted her. But
then he had to call her on it. "It's your partner isn't
it?" all indignant. Almost disgusted. How could you
love him? And I knew from her reaction that he was
right. And I swear to God for a minute I started
wondering if she had another partner that I didn't know
about. But she said my name. "Mulder is afraid of
love." Mulder is afraid of love. Is that what she
thinks? Mulder is not afraid of love. Mulder is afraid
of a lack of love. Of rejection. Of losing her. 
	
But she said it. She is in love with someone else. With
her partner. With me. Can that really be true? It can't
be true. She had to have made it up. When he suggested
me she just went with it, just to shut him up. No, no
that can't be right. She isn't that good a liar.

 A substitute. She was going to use him as a
substitute. For me. Was she going to sleep with him and
pretend it was me? Once again I am turned on and
sickened simultaneously. But mostly turned on. She
didn't do it. She couldn't go through with it. Because
she really wants me and she won't settle for anything
else. The profound nature of that realization hits me
like a brick. She wants me. That could be me kissing
her. That could be my hair that she is stroking. That
could be my mouth that she is moaning into. That is
what she wants. Why the fuck am I still sitting here?
	
I hear her slam the door shut next door. I hear her
walking around, going into the bathroom, turning on the
shower. She is washing him off her. Thank God. I feel a
sudden overwhelming urge to run over there, to jump
into the shower with her and just..God I still can't
bring myself to think it, to imagine it. I still can't
fucking move. I sit in front of the window for several
more minutes, contemplating, absorbing what I have just
heard. Will it ever sink in? Will it ever seem real? I
remember the day I found out that her cancer had gone
into remission. I remember not being able to believe it
at first. I remember sitting there in shock for a long
time. And then laughing hysterically for an even longer
time. And then crying. And then just holding her, never
wanting to let her go. And after that walking around in
a daze. I felt like I was being reborn. It was that
wonderful and that painful. This is a very similar
feeling. I want to feel it but I am almost afraid.
Afraid of the intensity, afraid of having it all fall
to pieces. Afraid of love? No, I will show her who is
afraid of love. I am not afraid of her love. I need it.
I crave it. I will show her. 
	
I hear the shower turn off and she opens and closes the
bathroom door and  walks around a little more. She is
probably going to go to bed soon. I should go now. I
have to go now. If I wait any longer I will lose my
nerve. I look down at myself. My dick is still hard as
a rock. I am still sweating like a pig and wearing the
same dirty running clothes from before. Charming. I
suppose I should at least wait until my body settles
down a little. I release the clenches in both of my
fists and bring my hands together over my head. Okay
any time now. Seconds pass. Minutes. I am still hard.
Jesus Christ. Think of something. Anything but Scully.
Anything but the fact that she is a few feet away from
me, still wet from her shower, wanting me, thinking
about me. Something else. Something disgusting,
disturbing. Flukeman, Cancer man, flesh eating
parasites burrowing in people's necks, examining
Scully's neck in a meat locker in the arctic goddammit.
Now I have to start all over again. Liver eating
mutants, inbred mother fuckers, cockroaches from outer
space, boy I certainly have a nice store of revolting
images to choose from. Alright that's enough. Things
have shrunk to a presentable size down there and it's
time to go. Hopefully she wants me enough that she
won't be completely repulsed by the funky odor I am
exuding.
	
I stand up and realize my legs are weak and wobbly. I
am dizzy. I reach for the table to steady myself. One
step at a time. Walk don't run. Be cool. Christ
almighty try to be cool. I knock on the door separating
me from everything I have ever wanted. 
	
"Mulder?"
	
"Yeah it's me." Is that my voice? Jesus I sound
pathetic. Scratchy and desperate. I hear her unlocking
the door. It opens a crack and I see her eyes peering
to the other side. She sees that it is really me and
pulls the door completely open. She is wearing a tight,
small white T-shirt and a pair of plaid flannel pajama
bottoms. Her hair is still wet. No bra. So much for my
revolting thoughts. I reluctantly drag my eyes from her
erect nipples, poking provocatively through her shirt
and look at her face. She looks angry. Shit I had
almost forgotten what a dick I was to her.
	
"I thought you were leaving."
	
"Oh. Yeah. Well I changed my mind. Decided to wait till
tomorrow."
	
"What do you want?" She's certainly not going to make
this easy. But it's okay. I know she wants me. I don't
have to be afraid anymore.
	
"I wanted to apologize." Her eyes soften and she steps
aside to let me in. She walks away from me and sits at
the small vanity table by the window. She turns the
chair around to face me and looks at me expectantly.
She wants me to put on a real show here. What I've said
is not going to be sufficient. "I acted like a real
jackass and I am really sorry. You didn't deserve it.
You didn't do anything wrong and I was just..." go on.
You can say it now. You can say whatever you want. "I
was just jealous Scully. And I'm sorry I took it out on
you." Her eyes widen a bit at this revelation. I have
thrown her for a loop with my honesty. But she is still
Scully the unflappable. For now. She nods and turns
away.
	
"Apology accepted. So if there's nothing else I wanted
to get some sleep before we fly back." Oh not much else
Scully. Not much at all. I move closer to her.
Dangerously close. I am standing behind her. Her hands
are folded primly on the table in front of her. If she
turned around again her head would be a mere two or
three inches away from my once again engorged cock. I
put my hands on the armrests of her chair and lean in
to whisper in her ear.
	
"How was your date Scully?"

	
What the hell? Oh my God what the hell. Something is
not right here. Something is different. Something is
off. What the hell is he doing? What am I supposed to
be doing? He is so close. He is never this close. He is
whispering in my ear!? He admitted to being jealous.
Where is all this coming from?
	
"What makes you think I was on a date?" I am amazed at
how steady my voice sounds. Even I am awed by my own
self-control sometimes.
	
"Were you?" This is lower than the first whisper. Even
more seductive. What is he trying to do to me? His head
is right next to my ear. I can feel his breath. I can
smell him. He smells like sweat. Mulder sweat. God what
is he doing to me? I shift a little in the chair,
trying to move away from him just a tiny bit. All I end
up doing is shifting my legs against myself and
realizing how wet I am already. Goddamn you Mulder. Why
are you doing this?
	
"I um..I was having dinner. With a man. I guess..I
suppose you could call that a date if you were so
inclined." Why am I whispering now? I think if I talked
at a normal level it would sound like shouting compared
to him.
	
"Did'ya let him kiss you goodnight Scully?" Oh my God.
Oh my fucking God. I turn around furiously. His face is
right in front of me. His eyes. Jesus his eyes are red.
He's been crying. Oh my fucking God. He saw me. He was
here and he saw everything. He saw me kiss Jonas. Oh my
God. Mulder I'm sorry. So sorry. 
	
"Mulder whatever you saw..." He is smiling. Grinning.
Leering! What in the world?
	
"You know Scully there is something I'm still confused
about. When you say that I'm afraid of love, exactly
what aspect of love are you referring to. Being loved?
Giving love? Making love?" No. Oh no. Oh my God no. I
can hear my heart start to beat about a hundred times
faster than normal. I am starting to sweat and..Lord I
think I am about to hyperventilate. 
	
"Mulder I...how much..I.."
	
"Everything. Every word." We are still whispering. No
more. He was eavesdropping on me. Spying on me. How
dare he? How DARE he? 
	
"What the hell did you think you were doing?" Not
exactly yelling but certainly loud enough to break the
mood. "How could you just...just sit there and listen
to me like that? To a private conversation? Why would
you..how..I.." He is still smiling damn him. He can see
what is happening. He can see how flustered I am, how
desperately I am trying to stay angry with him. He
knows I can't. Not when he is kneeling behind me with
his arms surrounding me and his face hovering over my
shoulder. Not when he smells like that. Not when he
looks so happy. He is happy. He is actually happy.
	
"I was also thinking, you know he kind of had a point
about one thing Scully. If you're so happy, why were
you out there with him? What were you hoping to get out
of it?"
	
"None of your damn business." I am muttering now,
practically to myself. I turn my head away from him. I
can't face him anymore. This is too embarrassing. His
hands have slipped somehow from the armrests to my
shoulders. He is stroking them. He is stroking me. Oh
my God.
	
"So did you find out about his life Scully? What did he
tell you? Has he been crying into his surgical
equipment since you left him?"
	
I shake my head. I can talk about this I suppose. This
is safe. As safe as any topic could be when he is
touching me like that. "Um no..he.." I gasp
involuntarily as he starts to knead my shoulders with
his fingers, as his lips move closer to my neck. So
close. "He was married. His wife died. They had um..he
has a...a...little" I can't stop myself from moaning
out loud when I feel his tongue touch my skin. So
briefly, it almost seems like it wasn't real. But it
was. He is seducing me. Mulder is seducing me. Holy
shit. Mulder is seducing me. He knows how I feel about
him and he is finally, finally going to do something
about it. He wants to be with me. He wants to make love
to me. Here. Now. Everything inside me turns to jelly.
I am scared. I am giddy. I am burning. "Girl...he has a
little girl and umm.." His grip tightens on me and his
head moves away from my neck.
	
"He has a little girl?" He sounds suddenly strained.
Unhappy. What happened?
	
"Um..yeah. So?" Please don't stop. Mulder please.
	
"So um...maybe this...maybe I'm not..maybe you made the
wrong decision Scully. Maybe you should be with him." 
	
"What?" I turn my head so that I can look into his
eyes. So that I can see what the hell brought this new
bout of self-hatred on. There is so much pain on his
face. Why?
	
"Scully he has a little girl. He has a normal life and
a good job and he...he could give you everything you
want. Everything you need. I don't feel right about you
giving that up for me." 
	
"Oh Mulder." I lift my hand off the table and place it
on his cheek. Look deeply into his eyes and pray that
he can see the truth in what I am going to tell him.
What I can finally tell him. "Mulder you heard what I
said. Weren't you listening? Don't you get it? He can't
give me what I want or what I need. The only person who
can is you. Mulder the only thing I want, the only
thing I need IS you." 


All she wants. All she needs. Can that really be true?
I did hear her say that she was in love with me. That's
why I am here. But what she has just said, it is far
weightier and more profound than anything she said to
Jonas. It is, I believe, possible to be in love with
someone, and to need more out of life than that
person's presence. Of course I wouldn't really know
anything about that. She is my life's breath. Without
her nothing matters, nothing is real. But she is
different. She is independent and strong. She could
never need me the way I need her. Could she?

I am not a fool. And I know what it means for Dana
Scully to say something like this to someone. She
speaks with the same scientific precision she applies
to everything. She means what she says. Every time. She
doesn't exaggerate and she doesn't lie. She said it and
she meant it. I am everything she needs and wants.
This is a tremendous thing for her to say. And it sends
her out, dangling even further on a limb than she
already is. I come in here with my little seduction
plans, knowing full well how she feels about me, and
offer her no indication of my true feelings. Nothing
beyond sexual desire anyway. She deserves to know. She
deserves to hear me say that she is beyond all I need
and want. That before I met her I had no idea that such
a feeling existed. That without her I would shrivel up
and die. Even though I am certain she knows this
already. How could she not?

But I still can't. I am still concerned about
something. A nagging worry in the back of my mind that
won't go away. 

"Scully I believe you. But why..why were you out there
with him? I meant it when I asked you that. Why did you
go out with him at all? Why did you need to do that?" I
try to ask gently. With curiosity and not hostility. 

Her hands drop from my face and fall into her lap. She
looks guilty and sad. I don't want to make her feel
that way. I'm not angry. Not at all. In fact in a way I
am grateful. I just want to understand.

"I'm not really sure Mulder. I guess it was to get some
closure. And well...I was so angry at you for running
out on me. I guess I just knew it would piss you off
and I wanted to piss you off. I'm sorry." 

"You don't have to apologize Scully. It's
understandable. But why..."

"Why did I kiss him?" She looks down at her lap sadly.
"I think I just wanted to it would feel like. It's been
so long since...well since anyone and I suppose I was
just curious. I suppose I wanted to know if it was even
possible for me to be with anyone but you."

"Why..."

"Because Mulder. I was starting to think we were never
going to...that you were never...dammit Mulder I have
needs you know." Needs? Scully has needs? Why does this
surprise me? I wonder what her needs are. I wonder what
I could do to satisfy her needs.

"So Scully, if he hadn't told you he loved you, do you
think you would have gone through with it?" Boy I am
really starting to sound pathetic here. Why can't I
drop this? Jesus I came in here to seduce her not
interrogate her. But for some reason I can't do it
until I know the answers to these questions. It is
selfish and stupid. I know she loves me. I know she
wants me. That should be enough. 

"I don't think so Mulder. Not in the end. I was using
him. I didn't want him."

"You seemed to enjoy kissing him." God what the fuck.
Let it go you stupid jerk. Why can't I just let it go
already. I don't want to hear about her kissing him. I
don't want to think about it. Goddammit.

"I didn't Mulder. Not really."

"You were very passionate." Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

"No I wasn't. I wasn't passionate. It was dead and
feelingless."

"You touched his hair." Bitter. Bitter and pissy and
sad. I didn't want to be this way. I didn't want to say
these things to her. I stand up and move away from her,
turn my back to her. I don't want her to see me like
this. I don't want her to see me cry over this.

"Mulder." I walk to the door separating our rooms and
lean on the wall next to it. Take a deep breath. Don't
start crying. Don't start yelling. She loves you. 

"Mulder come back here. Please." I turn to face her.
She is sitting with her side to the back of the chair,
her legs spread and her arms open, beckoning me to her.
How can I say no to that. I walk back to her and she
puts her hands on my shoulders, pulling me down so that
I am kneeling between her legs. She takes my face in
her hands and I rest my hands on her thighs. Our eyes
are level. So are our lips. Just a few small inches. I
start breathing just a bit more heavily.

"Mulder I'm sorry. I'm sorry I kissed him. I'm sorry
you saw it. But you have to believe me when I tell you
that it was completely meaningless. I don't love him. I
don't care about him." I know it's true. I know it. But
the pain of seeing it, I suppose it's too fresh to
completely vanish right now.

"I'm sorry too Scully. I don't mean to give you the
third degree about this. I don't doubt your feelings. I
just...God Scully it just hurt so bad. It almost killed
me to see you with him like that." I feel a tear
trickle down my cheek. Jesus, what is my problem? 

"It must have. I can't even imagine. Well actually yes
I can." Oh my God. Yes she can. I have put her in this
situation on more than one occasion. This fact
registers in my mind for the first time since all of
this started. "Anyway I'm sorry. I'm sorry that it hurt
you. I never want to hurt you Mulder. I want to make it
better. Let me make it better." 

She leans in towards me and I feel the warm moisture of
her lips on my cheek. Kissing away my tears. Making it
better. The way she always does. She pulls back a
little so that I can see her. Her beautiful face. Has
she always been so beautiful? Her hair is still damp,
hanging around her cheeks. She has no makeup on and I
can see the freckles she tries so hard to cover up. Her
big, wet eyes are staring into mine. She is so
beautiful it hurts. And I start to remember why I came
in here in the first place. Those lips, ripe and
glistening. Waiting. For me. Waiting for me to erase
the memory of another man's touch forever.

"Scully." It's all I can say. It's the only word I can
utter. I hope that she can hear everything I need to
tell her in the way I say that one word.

She takes a deep shuddering breath and I feel her legs
start to tremble slightly under my hands. She wants me.
What am I doing? Why am I wasting all this time? I've
already wasted so much time. Our eyes hold a silent
conversation. Can I kiss you? Please kiss me. I have
been waiting for this my whole life. So have I. Please.
Now. 

We both move forward simultaneously, underestimating
the distance the other will go and our lips meet
suddenly and unexpectedly. We both jump at the contact,
at the feel. The first touch is soft, barely there. I
am afraid to move, afraid to do anything. I am in
shock. My lips are touching Scully's. We are kissing. I
am kissing Scully. 

She is the first to break out of this trance like
state. Her fingers start to run over my face and down
my neck. Her lips soften under mine. They part. Just a
tiny bit. Enough for me to feel her sweet breath
against me. I am gasping for air through my nose. Her
legs part further and I have the cognizance to move
closer against her. A strangled sigh comes from the
back of her throat and her tongue flicks out and runs
over my bottom lip. God. Oh God. She is asking for
entry. She wants me to let her in. My lips part in
response and I tilt my head to the side so that my
ample nose doesn't get in her way. The feel of her
smooth, small, wet tongue working it's way into my
mouth, finally meeting my own is almost too good. It's
almost painful. I moan against her and squeeze her legs
tighter. I squeeze her legs for dear life.


End part 4 of 6



Title: Volition Unbound (5/6)
Author: Rachel Anton
E-mail: RaValliano@aol.com
see part one for disclaimer, summary etc.



God that mouth. How many dreams, fantasies, distracting
thoughts have been centered on that mouth. And now it's
mine. His tongue is thick and heavy. It tastes like hot
chocolate. He moves it over mine, into my mouth, and it
slides over my teeth, against the inside of my cheeks.
It fills me.

As our tongues probe deeper and deeper into each other
our lips mesh together in a dance that is growing more
and more frenzied by the second. There are no words to
describe this. I am dizzy. I am hungry. I am melting.
His hands are wrapped tightly around my thighs and I
start to realize that it hurts. That he is digging his
fingers into my flesh. Then I realize that my hands
have traveled into his hair. That I am clutching it,
pulling on it. That I am digging my nails into his
scalp. I am sliding in and out of conscious thought and
I am reminded strangely of falling asleep against my
will. It is that same unusual feeling, like I am
sliding and falling and drowning and then suddenly I
will burst back into reality and I am scared and
disoriented for a moment until I realize it's all
right. I'm safe and I'm here.

It's so different from kissing Jonas. My God did Mulder
actually think that was passion between us. Is that how
it looked from the outside? I can't even imagine it.
That kiss was a drop of rain in an empty well. This is
a hurricane. This is a tropical storm. I can't even see
the well anymore.

He pushes between my legs and I feel him, hard and hot
against me. And I remember that he is more than just a
mouth. He is a whole man and I can have all of him. I
wrap my legs around his waist and grind myself against
him. Against his cock. Mulder's cock. God Mulder has a
cock. This sounds ridiculous. Mulder has a penis. This
I knew already. I've seen it myself. But never like
this. Never erect and burning against my core. Never
ready to fuck me. There have been a few occasions when
I thought I caught him in this state. But I always
looked away. I always pretended it wasn't there.
Because I knew if I really allowed myself to
acknowledge it nothing would be able to stop me from
pulling his pants down and wrapping my lips around it.

He pulls away from me and looks at me, gasping,
desperate. "Scully...I.." No. No more words. We don't
need them anymore. I push on his shoulders with both
hands and he falls to the floor, landing hard on his
back. He looks at me with a mixture of awe and fear as
I kick the chair to the side and climb on top of him. I
plunder his mouth again with a longing I never knew
existed in me. I've lost all precision and my lips
scrape against the rough, stubbly surface of his cheeks
as my tongue collides with his almost randomly. We
bite, suck and lick at each other's faces, aiming for
mouths but often missing and I straddle him, slide my
hands under his T-shirt.

His skin is hot under my hands. It is slick with sweat,
the sweet smell of which fills my nostrils, invades my
senses. I place a hand over his heart. I can feel it
beating through his skin. Proof. That he is real, that
he is here, that this is not a dream or hallucination.
I pull his shirt up to his neck and he lifts his arms
allowing me to remove it completely. He has a beautiful
upper body. Simultaneously broad and lean. Hard and
soft. I move my mouth down to taste his chest. His cock
twitches anxiously against me as I grasp one of his
nipples between my lips and suck on it. He moans and
his hands grasp senselessly at the carpet underneath us
as I start to lick his torso, to clean the sweat from
him. It tastes so good. So human. I want to feel his
humanity. I want to be as close to it as I can get.

As my lips and tongue explore his chest my hands reach
up to stroke his arms. Strong arms. Thick with muscle
but not too much. Not to the point of being overdone.
Arms which I am certain could overpower me at any time.
Could grasp and flip me over. But not now. He is
letting me restrain him, hold him down as I greedily
touch and taste him. 

His chest is starting to rise and fall faster and more
dramatically. I look up at him. He is panting and his
eyes are opened so wide. I don't think I have ever seen
this look on his face before. It reminds me of the
expression he reserves for UFO sightings, psychic
phenomena and other freaks of nature. The thrill of
discovery, the fear of the unknown. But there is
something else here. Something blazing in his eyes that
scorches my skin as he looks at it. 

I sit up on my knees and press harder down on him. I
start grinding and writhing almost without realizing
it. I run my hands hungrily over his skin and throw
back my head. His body, his beauty, the passion in his
eyes, he is turning me into a desperate pool of
insatiable lust. 

I am struck by and overwhelming need to feel his hands
on me. To feel the burn of his touch. I reach down and
take his hands in mine, run them up and down my hips
wantonly.

"Touch me Mulder. Please touch me." I sound needy and
pathetic to my own ears. I can't believe what he has
driven me to already. I have never been like this.
Never.


What an idiot I am. Sitting here like a dazed fool. Not
even touching her. I want to. Believe me  I have never
wanted anything more. But I have been too thrown, too
astonished by her to do anything. She is unbelievable.
I want this to be special. I want it to be slow and
sensual and perfect for her. I tried to tell her that
but before I could utter a word beyond her name I was
lying on the floor flat on my back with her little body
writhing and squirming on top of me. 

She is crazed. Wild and free and so hungry. For me. She
is like this for me. Because of me. It's unreal. Now I
understand why she was shocked and indignant when I
said her kiss with Jonas was passionate. Maybe it was
for mere mortals. Not for Scully.

I have never heard her sound like that. Breathless and
sultry. Begging me to touch her. My hands start to move
of their own volition under hers, up and down over her
sides. I allow my gaze to settle on her breasts,
bouncing and swaying above me with her every move. How
strange that I never really noticed her breasts. Well
that's not entirely true. I'm not dead after all. I
suppose I've just never thought of them in this light.
I've never seen them like this. I think this might be
the first time I've seen her without a bra. No that
can't be true. But it's definitely the first time I've
seen her with no bra in a shirt like that, straddling
my lap, grinding her crotch against mine with her lips
parted slightly and her eyes half closed. Nope this is
a new experience for me. And I am completely
fascinated. I can't stop looking at them.

And then I realize, I can touch them now. She won't
slap me and she won't hate me. In fact she will
probably be happy. It's probably what she wants. Jesus
she just asked me to touch her.

I reach up a bit and run my thumbs over her hardened
nipples. I wonder what color they are. Are they a rosy
pink, an earthy peach, the deep crimson of her lips?
Soon I will know. As soon as I want to. She groans and
arches into my hand. The sound is amazing. It goes
straight to my dick.

God help me. I hope for her sake as well as mine that I
don't come in my pants before I even get her shirt off.
That would be just like me.

I move my hands down to her waist and slide them under
the hem of her T-shirt. Her stomach, her bare stomach
under my hands. Her skin is the softest thing I have
ever felt. Smooth and warm. I want to bury myself in
her.

With trembling fingers I start to lift the garment from
her. Slow. Slow and steady wins the race. I think that
ought to be my mantra for the night. Scully surprises
me by rejecting the slow and steady approach again and
tearing the shirt from my hands and off her back.
Holy Mary mother of God. I wish I was a religious
person because I could use a good prayer right now.
Please don't let me lose my mind. Please don't let me
get so out of control that I hurt or frighten her.
Please protect me from her beauty. Oh and she is
beautiful. Her porcelain skin, the cluster of freckles
over her heart, the deep curve of her waist, the rosy
tips of her pretty round breasts. She's unbelievable.
Even if she wasn't Scully I think I would be bowled
over. But it is Scully. And I am knocked flat on my
ass. 

After a moment of speechless admiration I regain some
of  my senses. I take her thighs in my hands and pull
her up towards me. She leans over so that those
remarkable breasts are dangling in my face. She braces
herself over me with her hands on the floor behind my
head. She is straddling my stomach now. My naked skin.
I can feel her wetness soaking through the flannel
material of her pajamas and onto my flesh. Thank God
she is off my cock. I didn't think I could last much
longer like that. She is so wet already. Wet. Scully is
wet. Scully has a wet pussy. Scully has a pussy. I
know. Basic human anatomy. I learned this lesson in
junior high. But you have to understand something here.
This is a major revelation for me. Someone can tell you
that fire burns until they are blue in the face but
until you get close to the flame, until you feel the
heat for yourself you will never understand what this
means. And this is the first time I have felt Scully's
flame. This is the first I have known of it's
existence.

I run my tongue in circles over her nipples, between
her breasts, everywhere that I can reach. I wrap my
lips over one of her nipples and suck lightly on it.
Then harder. And harder. Her whimpering and sighing has
become almost constant and completely entrancing. I
want to do everything I can to make sure she never
stops making those sounds. 


He is so beautiful. His eyes are closed in
concentration and bliss as his lips and tongue suckle
and lick at me fervently. His  mouth is curled into a
sweet smile over my breast. He looks happy as a baby
drinking from its mother.

His hands run up and down my legs, over my waist, over
my back, finally onto my behind which he squeezes with
an enthusiastic moan. His hands are so big. I feel like
they could almost span my entire body. They feel rough
and hard against my skin. And hot. Everywhere he
touches feels like a burning mass of flesh. 

His teeth clamp down on my nipple and I cry out at the
feeling. At the way the bolt of pleasure and pain
shoots through my entire body, finally centering on the
damp part of me sliding up and down his stomach.
He giggles against me and takes his mouth from me. "You
like that Scully?"

"Mmm yeah." I realize in some dim part of what is left
of my brain that these are the first coherent words he
has said in a long time. And if I had my wits about me
I might be scared. I might realize that he is a little
more in control of himself than I am at this point and
that the shock of seeing me as a sexual being has
started to abate a bit. That he can function and I
cannot. That moving myself from his sex has shifted the
balance slightly. But I am too far gone to worry about
trivial matters like that.

"God Scully there's so much I want to tell you. So much
I wanna do for you." He is muttering all this to my
breasts. "I wish there were words..."

"No. No words. Show me." What am I asking for? I should
really be afraid. He tugs at the waistband of my pajama
bottoms and they start to slide off. I rise up for a
moment to allow him to remove them completely and he
pulls me further towards him.

"C'mere Scully. C'mere." God. That mouth. Oh God.
He drags my body up and over so that I am actually
sitting up with my center resting on his face. The
first touch of his tongue against me is almost enough
to send me over the edge. It is that intense, that
overwhelming. I think it is that way for him as well.
The sounds he is making are even louder and more
frantic than the ones coming from me.

He is good. Jesus Christ is he good. Gotta love a man
with an oral fixation. He is always biting, sucking,
chewing on everything, anything. For once this habit is
serving to please rather than frustrate me. 

He holds my ass in his hands as his strong tongue works
its way around and over my clit, in and out of me. I
look down at him. His eyes are open now. Open wide. He
is staring at my face with a look of almost violent
intensity in his eyes. What does he see? A crazed woman
bouncing up and down on his face, that's what. I
suppose I can see the appeal in that.

As I let the waves of pleasure wash over me I am
gripped by a sudden strange feeling of jealousy. Not
over the women that have come before, so to speak. The
women he must have perfected this technique on, cause
it is perfect. No I don't care about them. My jealousy
is for him. For the thrill he is getting out of making
me feel this way. At the joy he obviously feels at
being able to taste me. I want that too. Is it greedy
to want to give and receive at the same time? I'm not
sure and I really don't care.

I look over my shoulder and see that he is definitely
ready for me. He is hard and bulging through the flimsy
material of his sweatpants. I want that. I need it. I
have never done this before and the thought does make
me somewhat nervous. I can't think of anything more
intimate, any more revealing. But fear is not enough to
quell the tide of desire that has overtaken me. 
I start to move, to position myself for this. He makes
a sound of protest, thinking I suppose that I want him
to stop. Maybe that I am afraid of what he's doing to
me. But his sounds change when he realizes what I am
really doing, what I can't stop myself from doing. 


I should tell her to stop. That she doesn't need to do
this. That if she does this I am not going to be able
to stop myself from coming and this is all gonna be
over. But I can't. I can't because it is too fucking
good. 

She's turned completely around and her sweet little ass
is waving around in my face. One of her hands is
stroking me through my sweatpants while the other works
to untie the string holding on the only remaining
article of clothing between us. It's taking her a damn
long time. Probably because her hands are shaking so
badly. She is still moaning and grinding against me as
she does this. Then she makes a small frustrated sound
and tugs hard. The string finally gives and she pulls
my pants as far down as she can reach in this position,
to my knees.

I have never felt anything as amazing as giving her
this pleasure, as tasting the musky, womanly taste of
her. I have been thanking every higher power in the
book for giving me this. Leave it to Scully to make it
even better.

Her tongue swirls around the head of my cock and the
feeling is so surprising and amazing that I can't help
but jerk up into her mouth. I can't help but take my
mouth from her for just a second, just to say her name.
Twice. Well not really say. More like shriek. Whatever.

She chuckles. "Oh you like that Mulder?" My own words
back to haunt me. All I can do in response is make some
inhuman noise which I cannot even describe and bury my
tongue inside her. She moans and takes me in. All of
me. All the way. I move my tongue back to her clit and
run back and forth in hard thorough strokes, the way
she seems to enjoy, and slide one of my fingers into
her. I am rewarded by her hot mouth tightening around
me and sliding up and down.

Jesus this is almost surreal. I've never even let
myself dream of her this way. But it makes sense. It's
perfect for us really. Total partnership. Pure give and
take. As always. Soon we are completely in synch. Her
head bobbing up and down in time with the thrust of my
finger and the flick of my tongue.

We start with a slow and steady rhythm which grows
quicker and more frantic the closer we each get to the
inevitable. Both of our groans of pleasure are muffled
slightly due to the fact that out mouths are full. But
I can still hear her. She sounds like heaven. And the
wet slurping sounds she is making only add to the
effect. Her juices drip down my chin, over my cheeks,
everywhere. I love it. I want to be covered in them.
Soon her whole body starts to tremble and I let myself
go a little bit. She is close. I have been three
seconds from orgasm for the past twenty minutes. Just a
little bit longer.

Her hips start grinding against my face and the sounds
she is making are getting more and more extreme. Her
head starts moving unbelievably fast and her lips
tighten around me even more. I hope she is there
because I can't hold it in anymore. I squeeze the
cheeks of her behind as a warning. I am gonna come
Scully. If you don't stop it right now I am gonna come.
I am there Scully. God I am so there. 

Just as the last wall of my resolve breaks down she
squeals and jerks frantically against me. She is
coming. Thank you Jesus she is coming. And as soon as I
realize this I am coming. I am pounding into her mouth
with a complete abandon. The likes of which I have
never known. And she is still coming. And I scream
against her but I don't take my tongue from her because
she is STILL coming. And I realize that I am still in
her mouth, that she has swallowed everything that has
come out of me. And that she is still coming. 


End part 5 of 6




Title: Volition Unbound (6/6)
Author: Rachel Anton
E-mail: RaValliano@aol.com
see part one for disclaimer, summary etc.



Finally the spasms start to abate and the feel of his
tongue becomes painful. I roll off him and collapse on
the floor beside him. We lay together for a few
minutes, trying to regain our breath, our sanity. He is
still moaning.

After awhile he sits up and reaches over to me. He
wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me up and to
him. His embrace is so tight it's a little frightening.
He kisses my neck and murmurs nonsense into my hair. He
is still shaking.

He rises to his feet with me still in his arms and
carries me to the bed. Oh yeah the bed. Forgot we had
one of those. We hold each other's sweaty, trembling
bodies for a moment and then his lips find mine. This
kiss is less frenzied and even more intimate than our
first. This is slow and sensual and gives us both the
chance to revel in our own taste on the others lips and
tongues. It is a long kiss. Perhaps the longest I have
ever had. I lose all track of time and space in this
kiss. His hands run through my hair over and over with
a gentleness and reverence I have never seen in him.
Mine are wrapped tightly around his back. They barely
reach each other.

Finally we separate, needing air and rest. Our eyes
meet and I see such tenderness, such trust, such open
adoration that I actually feel my stomach clench and my
eyes start to tear. 

"Scully" He whispers my name and strokes my face. "Oh
Scully."

"I know Mulder. I know." I bury my head under his chin
and take a nibble on his chest. He moans and laughs
simultaneously and pulls me closer.

"Do you know? Do you really? Do you have any idea what
you do to me? How you feel..how you make me feel..how
you feel to me..oh God Scully. Never mind. I am so
terrible at this."

"No, no you're doing fine Mulder. You're doing
wonderfully. You don't have to be a poet. I know how
you feel. You show me every day."

"No baby I don't." Baby? "Not really. I don't know if
anything could show you." 

"Mulder what did you just call me?" 

"Huh? I dunno, Scully?"

"No, you...you called me baby." I'm not sure why this
is such a big deal to me. After what we just did I
can't believe anything would throw me. But that was
sex. Phenomenal, mind bending, intimate beyond words,
but sex nonetheless. This is...baby!

He laughs in a self-conscious way and I immediately
feel guilty for calling him on it. "Oh..I...um I guess
I did. Does...does that bother you?" Bother me? God no.
But what does it do to me?

"No, no I like it. I like it a lot."

He relaxes against me and kisses the top of my head.
"You wanna be my baby Scully?" Okay now I know. I know
what it does to me. It turns me on. It makes me tingle
everywhere and sends the butterflies in my stomach into
overdrive. Hearing his gravely, sexy voice calling me
that turns me into complete jelly and I have no idea
why.

"I think I already am Mulder. After what we just did I
certainly hope I am." 

"Hey Scully you think we broke any local laws? You know
lots of places are very strict about this kind of
thing." 

"I don't know about local law but I'm sure we broke
every rule in the big book of FBI protocol."

"Well hell Scully, according to that book I shouldn't
even be in your room." We both have a good laugh over
that one. FBI protocol has never been high on Mulder's
list of priorities. And it has been sinking on my list
since the day I met him. The rules just don't make room
for people like us. 

"I am sorry in a way that I came so soon. I mean I
really want to be inside you Scully." 

"Mulder we have all night. Don't tell me I tired you
out already." His chest puffs out in mock indignace.

"Certainly not. I'm an athlete Scully. A real man." I
can't help but chuckle at that. "You dare to mock super
macho stamina man Scully?" Now I am really laughing.
"You better watch out Scully or you might never know
the true pleasure of the Mulderloveinjection." That's
it. It's all over. I collapse against him in hysterics
and he joins me. We are absolutely giddy. That is the
only explanation for this.

After several minutes of silly jokes and shared
laughter we start kissing again. Gentle butterfly
kisses covering each other's lips, cheeks, eyelids. I
stroke his back and slowly my hands travel to his
perfect, tight little butt. I clutch it with both hands
and squeeze. Suddenly his kiss turns more passionate
and his arms tighten around me. I knead the hard flesh
in my fingers and he groans into my mouth. I feel his
cock hardening against my belly and I chuckle again.

"Sensitive ass Mulder?" He looks a little embarrassed
and shrugs.

"Um..kind of."

"Guess we don't need all night after all super macho
man."  


I shouldn't be shocked to be so aroused again so soon.
It makes perfect sense really. Five years of
repression, denial and avoidance just came crashing
down on my head and I have seen my partner become not
just a sexual being but the most sexual being I have
ever known. I am in bed with the woman I love more than
life itself and she is horny as hell. Why wouldn't I be
hard again?

Still I am shocked. I hadn't expected it quite so soon.
Shocked but pleased. And just a little bit self
congratulatory. Of course it's not me that deserves to
be congratulated. It's Scully. Always Scully. No one
else would be able to do this to me.  

She is so tiny. I am struck by this now that we are
lying beside each other. Our heads are level as we kiss
and her little feet are dangling somewhere around my
knees. I am almost afraid to lay on top of her. What if
I crush her?

Not that I should assume that's how we're going to do
it of course. It's the most obvious way but Scully and
I are not usually want to do the obvious thing. Maybe
she'll want to be on top. That would be no surprise. 
My mind, suddenly free to think of Scully in this
manner, begins concocting various scenarios and
positions, imagining them. As she wraps her leg over my
waist and grinds against me I am flooded by dozens of
fantasies, each more tempting than the last. I wonder,
has she allowed herself to imagine this before tonight?
Does she have a store of fantasies, built up in her
from the past five years? 

Her hands are still on my ass and she pulls me against
her moaning her eagerness into my mouth. She's so wet.
So close. I could just do it right now. But I want to
know. I need to know. I have to know how to best please
her. What are her fantasies? What can I do to make them
reality? 

"Scully?"

"Mmm wha..?"

"Scully have you ever imagined this before?" She pulls
away a bit and smiles.

"Um..you could say that."

"I mean really, really imagined. I mean have you had
fantasies about this?"

"Of course."

"Like what?" My whisper is urgent and demanding. She
looks a little flustered and confused. I don't want to
scare her. God I just want to know.

"Um...I don't..."

"Tell me your favorite. Tell me how you want it Scully.
Tell me what you need."

"Mulder...I.." She is blushing profusely now. Is this
too much? An invasion? Something she can't even trust
me with? Have I ruined this already?

"I want to please you Scully. I want it to be
everything you need." I tilt her chin up and force her
to look into my eyes. "Tell me Scully. Trust me. Show
me." She kisses me and when she pulls back we are both
gasping. She smiles shyly and shrugs.

"O..Okay." She moves a few inches away from me and
takes a deep breath. She licks her lips nervously and
looks at me with a mixture of faith and trepidation.
This is really hard for her. But she's going to do it
anyway. For me. For us. I love her.

She rolls over onto her stomach and slowly rises until
she is on her hands and knees facing the headboard. She
looks over her shoulder at me, still blushing, and I
hope to God that the shock I am feeling doesn't show on
my face. She whispers to me, so quietly I have to
strain to hear her. But hear her I do.

"Like this. Like an animal." For a terrifying second I
am sure that I'm going to come right now. Happily I
manage to restrain myself from that extreme and instead
simply grunt in response. This is how she wants it.
Like an animal. That phrase bounces around in my brain
until it becomes the only thing I can hear. Like an
animal. Like an animal. Sweet Jesus, Scully wants me to
fuck her like an animal. She has imagined this.
Fantasized about it. Why am I just sitting here gaping
and moaning? Jesus Christ.

I rise up to my knees and place a hungry, needy kiss on
her trembling lips. I run a trail of kisses over her
neck and down her back as I move behind her. Once I
have positioned myself I stop to admire the view for a
moment. I grasp her hips with one hand and my cock with
the other. She bends her back down and arches herself
in the air so that I can see the glistening moisture of
her entrance from behind. I think I am drooling. God.
Scully. Have mercy on me.

Like an animal. Don't forget that Mulder. Like an
animal. Somehow I don't think that's gonna be a
problem. 


I can't believe I am doing this. I can't believe I am
exposing myself to him this way. Again. I look back at
him and realize that it is worth it. Just to see that
look on his face. Just to hear him breathing so fast
and so shallowly that I am concerned for a moment that
he is hyperventilating. 

And then to feel him. To finally really feel him. He
enters me gently. One long slow stroke. As he slides
into me he emits a low continuous "oh" and when he is
completely inside a nice drawn out "baaaabbbyyy". My
new favorite word.

He stops moving completely and bites his lip. He looks
almost pained.

"What's wrong?"

"Just need a minute. Scully. God it just feels so good.
I'm afraid as soon as I start moving I'm gonna come." 

He takes several deep calming breaths and slowly starts
moving. His hands grip my hips tightly and his eyes
never leave mine as he starts driving into me. Long,
deep thrusts. Slow at first but gradually increasing in
pace. His rhythm is perfect. His face, beaded with
sweat, jaw slack, eyes wild, is beautiful. The sounds
he is making, the cries, the supplications, fill me
emotionally as his body does physically. 

I am quickly losing coherent thought and slipping into
an almost dreamlike state. So good. It's so damn good.
His body drapes down over mine. His hands grasp my own
as they clutch desperately at the bedsheets. I feel his
tongue begin to probe the inside of my ear as his
pounding starts to grow more intense, harder and
faster. I start to move in response to his thrusts
without even realizing it. 

I am moaning and sighing in a way I never have before.
In a real way. In a way I can't control. Not for him.
Not even for me. Just because I can't help it. Every
time he crashes into me I feel chills radiating out in
every direction. My God what he does to me. It defies
description.  I want to tell him. I want him to know
how it feels. 

"Mulder...God Mulder I...oh God...oh yeah..." Real
articulate. Oh well. I take it on faith that he knows
what I am trying to say here. 

He roars into my ear and the sound is deafening and
wonderful. His hands reach over my head and latch onto
the headboard which is already colliding with the wall
with every slam against me. 

I start to feel the warning tremors of a shattering
orgasm and tighten around him. 

"Harder Mulder. Harder."

"God. Scully. Love you. Oh my God I love you." He
nibbles at my ear and starts pounding into me at a
rapid fire pace. So hard that I feel my teeth rattling.
His mouth travels to the back of my neck. He pulls my
hair away into his fist and bites down on the skin
there. As his movements become more frantic and abrupt
his teeth tighten on me. It should hurt but it barely
registers because of the extreme nature of the pleasure
in the rest of my body.

His head starts to thrash around wildly and he is
growling, actually growling, and still he doesn't let
go. I feel his body start to shake violently and I know
he's close. He is driving into me like a madman and
holding me in place with his teeth and I realize, this
is what I asked him for. Like an animal. He certainly
took that to heart. And I also realize why I wanted
that. His complete abandon is causing me to sacrifice
all control. I am lost to his savage, unrestrained
lovemaking and that is exactly the way I need to be.
And I know it's what he needs as well.

We've both been living under a cloud of repression for
so long. We need to let go. We need to be free. We need
to be animals.

His free hand slips under me and I feel his palm
pressing hard against my clit, grinding it carelessly.
It's pain and sweet pleasure and deliverance all at
once. It is just enough and too much and then I am
coming. I thrust back against him furiously and let out
a blood curdling scream. His growls become louder and
more frantic and his movements completely feral. His
teeth pull and twist my flesh and his body starts to
spasm into mine. I feel him expanding inside me and
finally bursting, shooting his seed through my body.
When the tremors subside I collapse onto the bed flat
on my stomach. He falls with me his hot, damp, heavy
body rests on top of mine. I am spent. I am
exhilarated. I am free. 


She is bleeding. Oh my God she is bleeding. How long
have we been lying here like this? I have no idea but
this is the first coherent thought I've had in a long
time. She is bleeding. 

I move her hair away from the sticky, festering wound
and put my mouth over it. 

"I'm sorry sweatheart. I hurt you."

"Mmmm...huh?"

"You're bleeding." I kiss the lesion again and start
running my tongue over it, cleaning it. She sighs
happily and I feel a little less guilty. Still she is
going to need more than my saliva to make it better. I
am going to have to clean and dress her injury. She
won't be able to reach it. 

But for now it's enough to kiss it and hold her. I roll
off her body because I am sure my weight is crushing
her and pull her so that her back is against my chest
and my arms are wrapped around her. 

My precious little angel. My tough as nails partner. My
hot, passionate lover. My hopes and my fears. My baby.
My Scully.   

Her breathing starts to level off and I can tell she is
drifting into sleep. I'm glad. I was thrilled to make
her fantasy come true. It was absolutely amazing. I
have never in my life let myself go like that. I've
never felt so free. And Scully. My God she was incredible.
I've never seen anything like it.
And now she is fulfilling my fantasy. This is one
Scully daydream I have allowed myself. Holding her as
she sleeps. It's something I have wanted since the
first time I saw her sleeping. It was in my car, on a
stakeout, and I was amazed at how pretty and young she
looked as she slept. At how her eyes shifted under
their lids making me wonder what she dreamt about. All
I wanted to do was pull her into my embrace and to
never let go. 

I should really be scared right now. I should be
wondering what is going to happen tomorrow. I should be
planning how we are going to handle this when we get
back home. I should be concocting paranoid scenarios in
my mind and figuring out how to protect our love from
whatever might happen. But I can't. Not right now.
Right now it's enough to finally have my fantasy
realized. 

I am not afraid. I'm just not. Tomorrow I will try to
figure out why. But not tonight. 



I still hate planes. That is one affliction no amount
of the Mulderloveinjection will ever cure. This morning
after we made the reservations for this flight I ran to
the bathroom and vomited profusely. Poor Mulder
actually thought it was a side effect of his
lovemaking. It took me at least a half an hour to
convince him that this happens every time I have to
fly. Then he cried because he felt so bad for me. He is
such a sap.

I've gotten the answers to at least two of my
speculative questions about a relationship with Mulder.
Yes he gives big, wet kisses in airports. He started
tonguing me at the luggage check in for no reason
whatsoever. I wasn't really thinking of instances where
we would be getting on the same plane. I can't even
imagine what it will be like when we get on different
ones. Still don't know about the dates and the couch
cuddles but the sex..well..wow. Not a whole lot more to
say. As for dominating every minute of my time, being
demanding, well we all knew the answer to that one
already now didn't we. 

I look out the window nervously as the wheels start
scraping against the tarmac. His  hand runs over the
bandage on the back of my neck and I turn around to
face him. He looks so good this morning. Bags under his
eyes, unshaven, but beaming. Glowing. In an almost
unearthly way. 

"Still hurt?" I shake my head no, but we both know it's
a lie.

"Well yeah actually. A little. But it's a good hurt." A
good hurt indeed. Every jolt of pain brings to mind a
set of images forever burned into my memory. I will
associate pain in the back of my neck with the ecstasy
of orgasm for the rest of my life. 

Our speed increases dramatically and equilibrium is
lost as the front of the plane dips forward and the
wheels retract under us. I clench my hands tightly
together on my lap and close my eyes. I feel another
hand, large enough to clamp over both of mine. And an
arm, wrapped protectively around my shoulders,
clutching me to him. He buries his face in the crook of
my neck and places a gentle kiss there. He whispers in
my ear.

"It's almost over baby."

Popping ears, churning stomach, jangled nerves. It's
still the same as ever. Well not exactly the same.
Baby. That's certainly different. I am scared. I am
nauseous. But I am Mulder's baby. And that makes
everything seem a little better. Even this.

Once we stabilize above the clouds I can relax a bit.
My hands unclench and the stiffness in my posture
slackens. Mulder's hand moves from mine to rest on my
leg which he caresses in a way meant to comfort. Or
perhaps to arouse. Like every touch from him, it does
both. I must admit that is my greatest fear about our
relationship. I know it seems unusual. I expected to be
more worried about our jobs, our enemies, our love
being used against us in some dreadful way. And I am
worried about these things to a certain degree. But not
as much as I thought. I have faith in our ability to
face any obstacle thrown our way. Hell we've managed so
far. I expected to be more worried about us. About our
mutual tendencies to fear closeness, to run from
attachments rather than being hurt. This does not
concern me at all anymore. Mulder is certainly not
running.  He seems to have dived into this head first.
He is scared but he's not going anywhere. He's too
addicted to my attention and petting already. And as
for me, I decided a long time ago that if the most
emotionally dysfunctional person in the world could
handle this than so could I. No my biggest fear is not
any of these things. It is simply the magic of his
touch. The distraction of it. 

I sincerely hope that I am still able to carry on with
my work and daily life without being sexually
frustrated to the point of insanity all the time. It's
true. It's even worse now that I have know the pleasure
of his love, the joy of his passion. I can hardly think
of anything else. I honestly believe this could be a
problem. As if to prove the validity of this theory
Mulder squeezes my inner thigh, sending a pool of
wetness to gather and congregate in the crotch of my
panties. I don't even know if I can make it through
this flight. 

I feel myself sliding down in my seat, almost without
realizing it, trying subconsciously to bring myself
closer to that hand. He chuckles into my ear,
immediately recognizing the sign of my arousal and
whispers to me.

"You cold Scully?" I look at him curiously and he waggles
his eyebrows at me. Is that some kind of code word for
horny? "I think you should put this over your lap." He takes
his jacket off and places it over my legs. His hand slides
under the jacket to grasp my thigh again. And slowly but
surely that hand starts to creep further and further up my
leg. I start to see where this is going and realize
something very important. I don't need to fear this either.
Like everything else, we can figure out a way to handle it.
Communication. Silent, unspoken. It works in every
situation.

 

That's all folks! Please let me know what you think! 

    Source: geocities.com/cratkinsonflynn/Recs

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