Rocky Road 6
by PlentyOHok@aol.com

They were stranded again, but this time they didn’t wait to watch their ride disappear. Through sheets of rain, they ran for the nearest cover and found themselves under the metal awning of Akbar's All-Nite Fruit & Veggie Mart. The front door was securely locked.

"Screw old Akbar’s violation of U.S. immigration laws," Mulder called to Scully over the rat-a-tat of rain beating down overhead. "What about truth in advertising?"

Peering through the glass door, they could make out a counter, a cash register, several produce scales, and dozens of neatly stacked bins of fresh fruit and vegetables. On the far wall, inside a dark alcove, a lighted blue and white sign promised "Telephone." Mulder began riffling his jacket pockets for something, anything he could use to pick the door lock.

"You know what, Mulder?" Scully’s voice was husky and close. His hands stopped moving and he turned his head to see her face just inches from his, wet and flushed with cold. "Fuck this!"

"Hunh?" he said stupidly.

"I said fuck this, I've had enough!" she shouted over the storm, pushing him out of the way and sizing up the split panels of glass.

"What’re you doing?" he shouted back.

Without answering she turned sideways to the door and slowly raised her right knee to waist level, focusing all her energy on a single point at the center of the lower pane. Suddenly she flashed into motion, landing a fierce side-thrust kick that exploded through the glass. Mulder’s stubbled jaw dropped. *That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen* he felt his own energy beginning to focus in his loins.

Scully pulled off her jacket, wrapped it around her fist, and cleared the rest of the glass from the lower half of the door frame with three quick punches. She stood and yelled, "I don’t know about you, Mulder, but I’m getting out of the rain." Then she ducked through the opening, disappearing into the warm, dry interior of Akbar’s All-Nite Fruit & Veggie Mart.

Mulder stood blinking for a moment. *Wow*. He looked around and saw no sign that anyone had noticed their break-in. Taking a deep breath, he stooped and followed Scully into the building.

*********************************

When he stood up inside, he found Scully staring at him from a few feet away. Her damp T-shirt melded like a glove to her slim torso and full breasts. Her nipples were huge and hard, like a second set of eyes staring at him. He felt himself growing suddenly, painfully stiff.

"What’s wrong with us, Mulder?" she asked, her voice thick with sadness and anger and something else…a banana from a nearby bin, Mulder deduced from the peel she dropped on the floor. *What is with her tonight?* He quickly catalogued her recent unScullylike behavior: breaking and entering, shoplifting, and now, perhaps worst of all, littering?

Her right nipple lifted in a gratifying wink as she raised a hand to comb through her wet hair. Mulder bit back a groan at the constriction in his crotch. She finished chewing the banana and swallowed, then continued, "I mean, we’ve been so good for five years. So damned chaste. So goddamned just-partners-and-nothing-more. And what difference has it made?"

"I…Uh…" Mulder didn’t know what to say. He was pretty sure this was connected to what the buxom copper-haired librarian-taxi driver-porn star-former stunt driver had been trying to tell him, but he couldn’t figure out how just yet. However, the fleeting image of his dreamy Jill-of-all-trades added an extra schwing to his swelling hard-on.

"We’ve played their little FBI policy games," she went on, her tight-shirted tits doing a fine job of jouncing in time with her angry gestures. "Not a touch, not a kiss, not an unprofessional word has passed between us, but they’re going to screw us over anyway."

"Uh…Argh…" Even if he’d known what to say, by now he could only garble out unintelligible sounds. Absurdly, the image of a Calvin & Hobbes cartoon popped into his mind: Calvin clutching Hobbes with one hand and pinching his nose with the other, asking "Daddy, if I hold my nose when I sneeze will my head explode?" *Could that possibly be happening to my dick?* he turned away from Scully, snaking one hand down his pants to attempt a discreet rearrangement of parts. There was a lot to rearrange, so it took a minute.

When he turned around again, Scully had already kicked off her sneakers, stripped off her socks, and was just stepping out of her wet jeans. "Well I’m through playing, Mulder," she said throatily.

And there she stood before him in nothing but peach-colored panties and her damp T-shirt. Then she pulled off the T-shirt, and there was nothing but petite feet leading to delicate ankles leading to perfectly rounded calves leading to kissable knees leading to creamy white partible thighs leading to . . . *Jesus, those damned peach panties* . . . leading to warm, flat stomach leading to the two most perfect handfuls of soft womanly flesh he’d ever beheld.

"Argh, Scully, you’re killing me here," he grimaced and spun away again, squeezing his knees and eyelids together and trying to remember how the old gross-out cure for embarrassing boners went: *turd in the swimming pool, fly in your soup, smell of the john when you lean in to puke.* But even that last part, which had usually worked in seventh grade, didn’t work when he peeked around and saw Scully stepping towards him. For his own health and safety, he forced his fingers to undo the buttons of his fly and relieve some of the pressure beneath it, but still he fought her for control. "Scully, stop right there. Don’t come any closer."

"What’s wrong, Mulder?" she asked, continuing to inch towards him. "You didn’t want me to stop in the back seat of that taxicab. I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with you, why you kept lying down and insisting I grab the cell phone in your pocket. At first I thought you were sick and wanted me to call for help, but your symptoms didn’t fit any disease I’d learned about in medical school. Then after that bimbo kicked us out of the cab, I finally understood. You didn’t *have* a cell phone in your pocket!"

By now she was right behind him, reaching for his waist. "Don’t try to tell me you don’t want this, Mulder," she whispered.

"Scully, I . . . *oh boy* ". . . I just . . ." *oh shit*. . . " Turning to ward her off, he moved his hands from his bulging crotch. Her eyes developed bulges of their own at the sight of the plaid-clad mountain erupting through the gap in his fly. He quickly covered himself and turned his back on her again, glad that his favorite boxers had been dirty that morning and it wasn’t Rocky & Bullwinkle she was ogling. "Scully," he explained over his shoulder, "It’s not that I don’t want this, it’s just . . . It’s just that I’ve always counted on our being able to say, truthfully, that our relationship is strictly professional. That in five years I’ve never touched you, no matter how much I’ve wanted to. Not ‘that’ way."

She blinked, trying to understand. "You really think it’s that important to be able to say you’ve never touched me?"

He nodded.

She thought some more. "But you have wanted to? You do want to?" she asked.

Again, he nodded. There was silence behind him. *Have I really succeeded in averting this disaster?* For as much as he wanted to take the one and only 8-1/2 inch Mulder-iron and leave his mark on Dana Katherine Scully where no other man would ever go hence, he knew that brand of adventure would be risking their friendship as well as their partnership. So, as the silence stretched behind him, he began to relax. For the umpteenth time in five years, the cooler of his two heads had prevailed.

"So, what if we did it without really touching?" her voice came from inches away.

Suddenly, he felt a pointed, firm pressure trailing down his back and slipping under the waistband of his boxers. Looking over his shoulder, he saw that Scully had picked up two huge fresh carrots and had just stuck one of them into his shorts. She used the other one like a baton to turn him towards her, then inserted it under his T-shirt and raked it sharply up his belly and across each of his nipples then down again. The carrot she still held in his boxer shorts slid around to the front to tickle his pubic hair and fence with his boner, sending a bolt of excitement from his groin up to the top of his head. After a moment, she pulled the carrot out of his pants and brought it up to her mouth.

"I never touched you," she said, and then wrapped her full lips around the tip of the carrot and bit it off.

*No* he revised his opinion from earlier, *that right there was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.* He moved for the first time in at least a minute (although it had seemed like many minutes), quickly shrugging off his jacket, dropping his jeans, and shedding his T-shirt. Then he stood before her wearing only his boxers, and it thrilled him to see her swallow the carrot tip and drop her jaw in shock and awe as she witnessed the full extent of her effect on him. His mom and dad may have been pretty damned pathetic when it came to parenting, but he couldn’t fault the gene combination that had given him this ability to wow most women and scare away the rest.

"Two can play, you know," he said, reaching for the bin to his right and grabbing the longest, fattest fresh cucumber he could see in the blue light from the Telephone sign. "Is this what you want, Scully?"

Gently, careful to avoid brushing her skin with his fingertips, he pulled down the waistband of her panties and slipped the cucumber inside, pressing and rolling it against her mounded flesh. Her knees buckled and her diaphragm expanded, and she leaned back, gasping, against a pyramid of cantaloupe. Melons tumbled to the floor all around their feet. Scully didn’t seem to notice, closing her eyes and holding her breath as Mulder worked the cucumber between the folds of her outer and then her inner lips, which were quickly becoming sloppy wet and warm with friction. The contact stopped suddenly and her eyes flew open.

"I never touched you," Mulder said, then took a huge bite of wet, warm cucumber.

Scully lunged to the next bin and grabbed the roundest, juiciest tomato she could find. Using her nails, she roughly split the tomato in half. Mulder was just swallowing his dark, smoky mouthful of cucumber when she jerked down his boxer shorts to come head-to-head with his raw, trembling cock. *Ohmyfuckingod* she mentally shrieked, and then *At last!* (Or it might have been *At last!* and then *Ohmyfuckingod.*) (No, come to think of it, *Ohmyfuckingod* would have definitely come first.)

Then she sandwiched that mighty serpent between the two dripping tomato halves and began to slowly, torturously stroke along its length. Now it was Mulder’s turn to gasp and melt backwards, sending bushels of bell peppers, broccoli, and whole mushrooms cascading to the floor.

"Ahh, ehh, uhhh…" he moaned, nearly mindless with ecstasy but not quite, as he managed to muster the consciousness to pick up two fresh ears of corn from atop a tall stack nearby. As Scully continued her rhythmic, juicy (but seedy) assault on his swollen erection, he swept the cool, satiny silk of the corn across her body. Velvety silk velour caresses tickled along her neck, her shoulders, down and then back up her arms, circling her breasts and her nipples, across her flat, firm belly, over the peach panties, and down along the sensitive insides of her thighs.

Mulder struggled not to give in to his need for release. *Where did Scully learn to handle a tomato like that?* Finally, between grunts and pants, he found his voice. "Scully…"

"What, Mulder," she sighed, unable to look away from the sight (and astounding color combination) of his huge purplish member throbbing between two blood-red tomato halves. "What is it?"

"Scully," he repeated breathlessly, *Why should the cucumbers and corn have all the fun?* "I think we need to touch each other . . ."

They both stopped moving, frozen in place. Then they looked at each other, and one moment of electric eye contact was all it took to decide the issue. Scully dropped the tomato. Mulder dropped the corn, ripped down her peach panties, and forgot to breathe for a minute (although, again, it seemed like many minutes). For the first time outside an alien spaceship, he gazed upon utterly naked Scully.

Suddenly they collided like magnets unable to resist the force of their mutual attraction, their compulsion to touch. For many long minutes (which, not surprisingly, seemed like hours), mouths and hands blindly sought all the odd and secret places that had been forbidden to them–by them–for so long: earlobes, eyelashes, collarbones, breasts, shoulder blades, armpits, elbows, navels, hipbones . . .

When they began to slow their frantic exploration, Mulder unwrapped his arms from around her and cupped her warm breasts in his hands, closing his eyes and groaning as the hard nubs of her nipples nuzzled into his palms and, like electrodes, sent shock waves throughout his body. He stretched to keep his hands full of Scully as she dipped her head to plant a trail of hot kisses down his muscular chest and rippling stomach. When she reached the dark bush above his cock, she buried her nose there, inhaling the musky scent of his manhood before sliding her warm tongue along the awesome length of him and gently brushing her lips across his tip.

He reflexively pulled away from her to save himself, squeezing her tits and pulling upwards to get her to stand. They each took a step back, beholding each other for the last time as just partners and nothing more (okay, after the last few minutes which had seemed like hours, maybe a little more). And then it was time.

She smiled as his worshipful gaze swept over her, then held her arms out like a child asking to be picked up. Returning her smile, he gently lifted her onto the edge of the now-empty broccoli bin and kissed her deeply, mind and heart reeling as she sucked his tongue into her mouth and held it between her teeth. Her arms encircled his neck and her hard nipples and soft breasts pressed against his bare chest. She spread her knees wide, making space for him. He reached around and grabbed her ass, and then, with a quick knee-bend, a swift heave-ho, and impeccable aim, he crammed his incredible length into her slippery hot depths.

He immediately stopped moving as she cried out with the pain and ecstasy of his entry. She bit her lip and held still, waiting for her insides to adjust to his size and the unaccustomed feeling of fullness. She soon realized, however, that after five years of abstinence and occasional adventures with a vibrator, it was just going to hurt like hell the first few times and she might as well rejoice at the cause of her pain. So she locked her ankles behind his back and thrust her hips hard against him, welcoming the agony that shot through her loins as he began to match her rhythm and ream her open.

Pumping into her again and again, beyond all rational thought or care that the fruit and vegetables he was trampling were not his own, Mulder careened into a bin of cabbages which toppled sideways. A neat stack of rutabagas was the next to fall, followed by pyramids of grapefruits and oranges.

There was now nowhere else to step, as the entire floor of Akbar’s All-Nite Fruit & Veggie Mart was covered with stomped and battered produce. So Mulder simply fell to his knees, pushed Scully backwards onto the pile of mushrooms (the softest veggie he could think of through the haze of his primitive lust) and continued to bone her senseless.

Who knows how long their feast lasted? The rain poured down outside and not a soul, human or animal—except for a few tired, squawking chickens—moved along the dark streets. But inside Akbar’s All Nite Fruit & Veggie Mart, tomatoes popped, onions skinned, corncobs shucked, cukes a-cumbered, squashes squished, lettuce leaved, celeries stalked, carrots peeled, cabbage heads rolled, beans sprouted, and the love salad Mulder and Scully made required no dressing—in fact, had required undressing—and was its own most just desert.

Sometime later, he slipped reluctantly from inside her and collapsed next to her on top of their bed of fungus. "You know what would be really good right now . . ." he said sleepily. "Some ice cream!"

Scully giggled like a schoolgirl and confessed, "I *did* scream!"

"Mmm, I’s creamed!" Mulder mumbled with a dreamy smile, then fell fast asleep.

"So much for my ‘just-partners-and-nothing-more’ speech" she whispered into his still damp with rain and sticky with tomato seeds hair. He snored softly against her breast, which smelled earthy and moist like mushrooms. Then she, too, drifted into sleep.

***************************************

The low rumble of a diesel engine brought Scully back to consciousness. Although they were safely out of sight in the shadows of tumbled produce bins, everything around them was awash in the glare of headlights from a truck idling in the street outside. Peering over the top of a bin that had previously held various Asian leafy greens, she saw that a tow truck had backed up to the wreck of the limousine, and the driver was going about the business of securing the tow-bar. While they’d slept, the rain had stopped, the chickens had quieted, and the sky was beginning to lighten.

"Mulder, wake up!" Scully nudged him gently.

"Hmm? What?" he blinked sleepily.

"There’s a tow-truck outside." She peeked out again. Something about the solitary figure of the tow truck driver seemed familiar to her, but she couldn’t put her finger on what it was.

"C’mon, Scully," Mulder said. "Let’s get the hell out of here before old Akbar finds us."

They scrambled to their feet, hunted down their juice-stained clothing, and quickly dressed.

********************************

After ducking through the shattered front door, they flattened themselves against the outside of the building. From here, Mulder could just make out the logo on the side of the truck: Akbar’s All-Nite Tow Service. Scully was more interested in the driver, whose curvaceous, snugly-uniformed figure suddenly registered as having been last seen ejecting them from a bullet-riddled taxicab.

"Oh brother!" she scowled. "Look who’s driving."

Mulder looked. *I’d recognize that cleavage anywhere,* he thought, but much to his surprise, his lips misspoke not a single foul word. "Come on, we’ll stay in the shadows."

They edged carefully along the sidewalk but had only moved a few yards when a cheerful voice called out, "Hey you two!"

They stopped and saluted hello.

"Boy, I was wondering where y’all got to," she gushed, sauntering over to them. "I got to feeling real bad about leaving you stranded like that so I went back to find you, but you were gone."

By now she’d reached them and was giving them each a good once over. "Hey, what happened to you two—you look like you’ve been in a food fight or something."

"Something," Mulder nodded enigmatically.

"So, you drive a tow truck, too?" Scully asked, stepping between them.

"Well, I do till the sun comes up," she grinned, checking her watch. "Then I’m off. A girl can only have so many jobs, you know."

They chuckled politely, then Mulder took hold of Scully’s elbow and began moving her along the sidewalk again. "Well, we’ve got to be going," he said. "Nice seeing you again."

"Hey, can I give you a ride somewhere?" she offered. They looked at each other questioningly. "Come on, it’ll make me feel better about kicking you out on the street like that!"

After a moment, they both shrugged at the same time. "All right," Scully said, and they started walking towards the truck.

"And don’t worry about kicking us out on the street," Mulder added, discreetly patting Scully on the pear-and-banana-stained seat of her jeans. "It really worked out for the best."

"Right on, then, no hard feelings," their new friend said happily. "Gee, you two sure do seem different somehow . . ."

Mulder and Scully just smiled and climbed up into the cab of the truck next to her. As the buxom copper-haired librarian-taxi driver-porn star-former stunt driver-tow truck operator rammed the gear shift into Drive and the truck rolled away, the sun topping the roofline to the east shed its first rays of light on Mulder and Scully, and on a most poignant reminder that more lives than theirs had been changed overnight: a single, weary chicken moving ahead of the truck, flapping and squawking boldly toward freedom.

The End

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