Spoilers: None

     Time Frame: After "Kill Switch," since that's when I'm writing this.

     Rating: PG

     Disclaimer: Fox Mulder and Dana Scully are the property of Chris Carter. He created them. I just thought they deserved a sweet moment or two of spontaneous UST.

     Pantene (with the pro-vitamin formula) and Mary Kaye's "Premonition" are also used without permission. Well, I mean, I'm sure I have permission from whatever company makes Pantene and Mary Kaye to use their products. I meant, use as in they are mentioned in the story, but you all knew that.

     Archive: Anywhere you want as long as I get credit :)

     Comments? Questions? Love Notes? Flames of 6th Degree Burns? Insane Musings on Cancer Man? Send 'em here - arabian@ite.net

     She stood at the corner of his desk reaching for the latest file on a mutant killer who should in all probability not exist, but most likely would prove to once the investigation was concluded. He watched her, a small smile playing about his lips and then he snatched the report away just before her fingers touched it, placing it on the other side of the cluttered space.

     She gave him an annoyed glare that held very little heat, an unspoken "Mulder" hung in the air with exasperation. His smile widened. He was feeling spontaneous. As she stepped around the desk, he swiveled his chair so that he was facing her. She ignored his movements and once more reached for the file. His arm swooped out and about her waist and he pulled her onto his lap.

     "Mulder!" was spoken and with more than just exasperation, but a strong tinge of surprise as well. She turned and looked at him, for the moment too shocked to move away. His smile widened to a grin.

     "Just a moment of spontaneity, Scully."

     She let out a slight exhalation of breath and settled against him a little less awkwardly. "Well, now that you have me here what are you going to do with me?"

     His fingers began a circular dance on the small of her back as his grin turned slightly wistful, not slightly lecherous as she had expected it would with the opening she had an unintentionally given him. "That's the problem with spontaneity. It's so spontaneous that it just goes as quickly as it comes."

     She nodded and squirmed slightly. "So, will you let me go?" She waited for his fingers to cease their dance and his arm to unwrap itself from around her body. They and it did not. She turned away from his gently smiling face and looked down at the slight drumming of the fingers of his left hand upon the arm of the chair.

     "Mulder --" she began, but stopped when he leaned towards her, his nose hovering just below the line of her hair, almost touching the skin of her neck. She froze and her breath was held suspended as his finger dance at last reached a close and his arm tightened slightly about her waist.

     "You smell good. What perfume are you wearing?" He all but whispered in a slightly husky voice.

     Her eyes shut briefly and she sought her suddenly scattered wits. "Perfume?" she managed to squeak out.

     "Yeah," he breathed against her neck, his nose now brushing along the sensitive skin. She could hear him inhaling deeply. His arm tightened even more about her and she squirmed uncomfortably (but not unpleasantly) in his lap.

     "Premonition." She responded in a shaky voice. She arched her neck slightly away from his burrowing nose and the soft, heated breaths that were kissing her neck. "Mulder?"

     "Hmm?" he murmured as his other arm fell from the chair and those fingers began a second dance, this one upon her arm brushing against his chest. She forgot what she was going to say as his fingers rose, gliding towards her throat. Softly, slowly with a butterfly-wing of a touch, his fingers slid up and down the column of her throat, swaying over to and across her slight Adam's apple.

     She gulped and she could see the grin spread across his face out of the corner of her eye as his finger rose with the movement.

     "Your skin is so soft." His voice was a gentle rustling, like a sea breeze rushing over her. She sighed, her chest rising and falling with an increasing rapidity. She cleared her throat.

     "I stay out of the sun. The sun really tends to dry ones' skin out. I really should use moisturizer more often, but sometimes I'm just so tired I forget or don't care, but it's staying out of the sun that really does the most good." She was babbling. She detested it when she babbled, it was so unlike her. And damnit, it was all Mulder's fault. He was the reason she was babbling. Him and his fingers and his nose and his voice and ... and his voice interrupted her mental babbling.

     "Your hair smells wonderful." And then she felt his breath, and a slight moistness (my God, is he kissing my ear?! she thought) against the outer shell of her ear as his nose and his breath pushed aside her hair.

     "Thank you," she whispered, wondering why she wasn't just pulling away from him. Because this feels so good, she told herself, he feels so good.

     "What shampoo do you use?"

     "Pantene," she sighed as his tongue gently traced the outline of her ear, falling to the sensitive area behind it.

     "With the pro-vitamin formula?" he asked softly.

     "Mmhhmm, yeah, that one." She tilted her head slightly away again, but this time she wanted more from him, not away from him.

     "Do you use hairspray?" She did pull away now, her eyes turning to meet his.

     "So green," she murmured, then "hairspray?"

     He smiled gently, his eyes turning a deeper shade of green. His fingers trailed up her neck, running through the strands of her hair. "Your hair is so soft, it's not sticky and hard. But it's so neat, so I wondered how you kept it so neat. You must use hairspray, but it's not sticky and hard."

     He was babbling too, she thought with an inward smile, not really sure why it made her happy, just happy that it did. She returned his smile.

     "I just use a little hairspray, mostly I use mousse. It leaves my hair silky soft and more manageable."

     "Aaah." His smile widened and she marveled at the peace on his face. He looked so carefree and relaxed . . . and happy. He sighed softly, his eyes flitting shut briefly and when he opened them, the serene expression remained. He dropped his hand from her hair, once more resting it upon the chair arm. His other arm loosened from about her waist and she was free to get up.

     She remained where she was a moment or two longer, just looking at his face, the relaxation in his eyes, in the gentle smile of his lips. In the back of her mind, the thought that she loved him so very much played with a silent joy. She smiled and it was wistful and as peaceful as his. And then she got up.

     She stood for a second with her back to him and then she turned and looked at him once more. His smile now matched hers in wistful wonder. "That was nice," he murmured softly.

     She paused, savoring the moment, the mood, the man. "Yes, it was."