Let's Get This Show on the Road - Part 2/3 Summary and disclaimers in Part 1 ***** Fox Mulder's Apartment 8:49 P.M. Mulder didn't remember driving back to his place, but when he reached his door, he became thankful he had arrived in one piece. 'Then again,' he thought to himself, 'maybe it would have been better had I not made it back at all.' It wasn't the first time he had had these self-destructive thoughts. For a time when he was seventeen, amongst the pressures of his senior year at high school, deciding on a college, and his divorced parents constant animosity toward each other, he had come very close to suicide. But he had been determined not to become another statistic and had trudged on with life instead. College had been better. Far away from his family and memories of Samantha, he had started over in England. A new confidence had emerged. Confidence with his mind. With his position in life. With women. Well, the latter had slipped a bit after he discovered Phoebe's liaison with one of her Professors. The FBI had only increased that confidence, and since the X-Files, he had developed an 'I Don't Care' attitude that allowed him to do what he did without constantly judging himself. Then Scully had come along. Smart, energetic little Scully. A tiny red-haired dynamo so determined to not believe, but so faithful to him. It made him sick to think of what she might be doing with her life, her career, if she hadn't been assigned to the X-Files. If she had never known him. It made him more sick to think of where he might be if he had never known her. Locking his door behind him, Mulder threw his jacket at the wall and stalked into his living room, throwing himself down on the couch. He had known what Scully was up to tonight, but he hadn't thought she would nearly succeed. Asking him to dinner had been her way of saying she forgave him; her way of trying to mend the damage he had done in their relationship. And for a while, he had thought it was going to work. But the horrible vision he had created inside his head that morning had continued to dog him, until it was all he could see: Scully, fear and concern flooding her beautiful blue eyes, a tear running down her cheek. Trust. Trust in him. Faith that he would never hurt her. The cool clammy feeling of the gun in his sweaty grip. The power of Modell's will, pushing at him. He tried to push back, but he was tired. He was losing. No. No, don't squeeze. *BANG* The gun firing. The bullet hitting Scully. The surprise in her eyes, the betrayal. Then nothing. No emotion. Her gaze empty as she fell to the ground. He shook the image away. Modell would be dead if that had happened. No ifs, ands or buts about it. With no more bullets and no other weapons, he would have had to take out Pusher with his bare hands, but he would have. He could feel the man's weak throat under his hands even now. Squeezing. Harder. Tighter. Dead. He would have been dead. Just like he would have been dead if there had been more than one bullet in that gun today. And then Mulder would have retrieved his own gun and followed Scully. Only he knew he wouldn't have joined Scully. He knew he would not have gone where living angels like her go after death, wherever that may be. Mulder squeezed his eyes closed, feeling the tears that had threatened all day slide down his cheeks. He couldn't do it. The might-have-beens were too powerful. He would go to Skinner tomorrow and request that Scully be transferred out of the X-Files. She would never do it herself; she was too stubborn. But he had to make her leave him before she was taken against her will. This wasn't self-destruction anymore. This was self-preservation. Because if she was taken from him, he would die. He didn't know how long he had been sitting there before he heard the key in his lock. Rage filled him. Why couldn't she leave well enough alone?! He stood to face her as she entered, squinting as the light from the hallway flooded his dark apartment. She closed the door behind her and reached for the light switch. "No!" he said forcefully. She jumped, and he knew that she couldn't yet see him, but she pulled her hand back away from the switch anyway. "Just get the hell out of here, Scully." "No." "Jesus!" he shouted, not caring if the neighbors heard. "Why the hell are you here? Didn't you get it that you can't say anything to make this right?" She was silent for a while. "I didn't come here to talk." Mulder's head was beginning to throb and he put his hand up to his forehead, massaging his temples. "Then do I even want to know why you're here?" She moved forward, leaving the foyer and entering the living room. "I can't let you think what you do," she said softly. "Do you even really know what I think?" he growled. "I think that that amazing sense of guilt you seem to have been born with is working overtime tonight." He laughed, the sound harsh. "And you think you can change it, don't you? That's what dinner was all about tonight, wasn't it? You trying to convince me we could continue on as if this hadn't happened. As if I hadn't stuck a gun in your face with the full intent to pull the trigger?" "It wasn't your intent, Mulder!" Her voice was strong now. Her anger growing. Good, he thought. If I get her angry enough, maybe she'll leave. "How do you know?" This time, it was she who laughed. "You expect me to believe you really wanted to kill me?" "Maybe Modell was right. Maybe I have never forgiven you for shooting me last year." Scully nodded, a smirk on her face. She stepped forward again, her eyes meeting his now that she had adjusted to the dark. "Okay, I'll buy that. Along with knowledge that anything Cancer Man says is the gospel truth." Okay, so getting her mad wasn't working. She always loved a good argument. So how do you get her out and away, Mulder? "I'm going to request a transfer tomorrow." "You want to transfer?" Worry darkened her eyes. "No. I'm requesting it for you." "What?!" "I don't want to work with you anymore. I'm tired of you following me around like a little puppy bashing my ideas and theories while trying to make me think you're the hottest thing out there." Humor filled her eyes as she bit her lower lip to keep from smiling. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't realize--" "Of course you didn't," Mulder scoffed, his heart aching. "I'm sure you love all the rumors about us." She paused, tilting her head. "What are you talking about?" "You just told me you didn't come here to talk, Agent Scully. Then why are you here?" She folded her arms and glared at him. Her movements brought to his attention that although she had slipped on a pair of sneakers and her coat, she hadn't changed clothing. Meaning... "And I don't suppose you put on a bra, either." She drew in a sharp breath and pulled herself up as tall as she could. Somehow, despite that fact that he still towered above her, he felt small. "What exactly are you implying, Agent Mulder?" She put an emphasize on the 'agent'. "What better way to try and convince me I'm something than by offering yourself to me?" Mulder knew he had just nailed his coffin shut, but as long as she was still alive above ground, he didn't care. She stood silent, her mouth open in astonishment, her eyes wide and luminous, even without makeup to enhance them. Damn, he thought. Why did she have to be just as beautiful without makeup as she was with? No woman should be that lucky. Then she moved...not away from him as he had hoped, but toward him. She stopped just short of touching him, looking up at him, her eyes glowing. "If I offered myself to you, would it work?" Disgust flowed through him. Not because of her or her words, but because of the effect those words had on him. Suddenly, without warning, he was aroused. Swallowing, he responded in a rough voice. "No." The pain that flooded her eyes shocked him. She quickly lowered her gaze and stepped back. Nodding, she smiled ruefully toward the floor. "You were right. You're not worth it." The pain he had seen in her eyes flowed into him. She turned away without another word and he tried to close his eyes, not wanting to see her walk away. But he couldn't. Just like he couldn't let her go. Not yet. With a growl deep in his throat, he rushed forward, reaching her just as she opened the door. He reached past her and shoved his hand against it, causing it to slam shut. She jumped and turned to face him. He let his momentum continue to carry him forward into her, pushing her against the door. He felt a tingle of excitement when he recognized fear in her eyes, and it scared him. But he didn't move. He didn't dare give up his advantage. "You want to know why I'm not worth it, Scully?" he demanded. "Because you are." "What?" she whispered harshly, trying to sink into the door behind her. Away from him. "You are worth it. You are worth so much more than I can ever give." He glanced down at their bodies curiously, then shoved himself against her harder. She gasped, and he knew she had felt his erection pressing into her belly. "All I can do is take." With a suddenness that caught him off guard she slipped out and away from him, leaving him to fall lightly against the door. With a grim smile, he turned around, leaning his back against the wood. She stood a few feet in front of him, breathing hard. "That was good, Scully. You remember your training. Of course, you want to try and disable your attacker, too. Knee him in the groin, maybe." She glanced down at his crotch and licked her lips. Though he was sure her actions were purely accidental, he groaned and felt blood surge to gather at the object of her glance. She looked up, her eyes wide. The emotion in them was unreadable. Or maybe he just didn't want to read it. "What the hell is going on here, Mulder?" Her voice was as dark as he had ever heard it. "You tell me, Scully," he responded in kind. "You invite me to dinner, at your place, in an attempt to make me see that you hold no grudges. That you forgive me for nearly killing you. Do you forgive me for your abduction, too? How about your reputation, Mrs. Spooky? Or what about your sister? Do you forgive me for that?" "Mulder, I never blamed you for any of those things--" "But you should have," he interrupted. "I'm a dangerous man to know, Scully. I could hurt you over and over and over, and you would still come crawling back, wouldn't you?" Her jaw clenched, but she answered around it. "You have never hurt me intentionally. And you never would." "And that makes a difference, huh?" "Yes." He nodded. "Okay, then. We better change how you see me." He stepped forward, knowing she wouldn't run, not after what she just said. So when he reached her and began tugging off her coat, she didn't move. Then he reached for her shirt, that damn T-shirt, which hid only bare skin. She suddenly seemed to realize what he was doing and pulled away. He followed, intent now on proving to her how worthless he really was. Grabbing the hem of her shirt with one hand, he grabbed her around the waist with the other hand, ripping her shirt up and off. "Mulder!" she shouted, then her struggles started in earnest and he knew he would have to back off soon. He didn't intend to follow through on this threat, but he wanted her to think he would. She pulled out of his grasp, but he reached for her again after throwing her shirt across the room, turning her around to face him. She deftly twisted her wrist to escape him again, but not before he saw her, bared from the waist up to his sight. Her perfect breasts, breasts he had often dreamed about, were now naked to him, standing as proud and defiant as the woman before him. Rampant desire raged though him, and he lunged for her once more. "You asshole!" Scully yelled, fighting him. She tried to move for her shirt, and he knew she wasn't about to leave the apartment topless...unless she truly feared he would rape her. And wasn't that what he wanted to do? Make her afraid. Make her believe he could hurt her? He grabbed her around the waist once more and hauled her into his living room. She squirmed against him, her feet kicking the air, her fingers tugging at his arms. She was no match for his strength, he knew. But her training in self-defense would be more than sufficient to keep this from getting too far out of control. In the meantime, he was enjoying her struggles, knowing that whatever maneuver she had planned for him would more than likely hurt like hell. But she never tried anything. She fought him, but only enough to keep him busy in defense. Even as he tugged at her sweatpants, pulling them easily down her legs, she fought only enough to make the action difficult for him. Could she want this? he wondered. How far would she let him go? His anger at her apparent compliance was barely overshadowed by his growing lust. He wanted her. He had wanted her for a long time. His partnership with her was already over, so why not give in and take her? If she didn't want it, she would stop him. And she would hate him. Grabbing her panties, he pulled them down to mingle with the sweatpants which were now tangled above her shoes. He let himself fall to the floor with her, knowing that she would have the advantage there. Giving her one last chance to get away. His hand brushed her pubic area and he froze in shock. She was wet. Oh, God, she was so very wet. His arousal, already painfully hard due to the excitement brought about by their struggles, grew even more. He groaned at the pressure, desperate to free himself from his jeans. He took a deep breath, noticing as he did so not only the stillness of the woman sitting next to him, but the smell of her own arousal. With another groan, he reached over her to pull off her shoes. She tried to help, but she was shaking now and wasn't very dexterous at the moment. Soon the shoes, and her sweatpants and panties, were off, and Mulder began working at his own clothing. Scully tried to move away, but his determination to dominate the situation caused him to grab her once more. Recklessly, her pulled her up on her knees facing away from him. His coffee table was in front of them. The couch was too far away and the floor behind them was wood. But he needed to be in her. Now. He leaned her forward toward the table. She seemed to understand, and she crawled forward on her knees a few inches so she could grab hold of it. Impatiently, he unbuttoned his jeans and shoved them and his boxers down just enough for his shaft to spring free. The cool air on his heated flesh made him cry out, and Scully tried to turn to look at him. "No!" he told her, moving up on his knees behind her. He placed a hand between her shoulder blades and pushed her upper body forward onto the table top. He held her there, unresisting, then used his knees to spread her legs. His erection sought out her moist warmth, and before he knew it, he was there, his tip teasing her opening. He stopped suddenly, his anger fading as he realized what was about to happen. "Scully?" "Please, Mulder!" she gasped. "Now!" With a growl, he grabbed hold of her hips and shoved himself into her. She was so wet. So hot. And so tight. "Ahhhh!" Scully's shout was full of pain. Remorse flooded him, almost annihilating his desire. He began to pull out, only to be stopped by her groan. This time, there was no pain in her voice whatsoever. Using her strong arms, she pushed the table forward across the carpet, then lowered her upper body to the floor. Mulder watched in amazement as she lay her cheek flat against the ground and pushed up and back into him. He felt an internal squeeze and knew it had been intentionally done by the woman beneath him. He pulled out, then pushed back in. She countered him, moving forward as he withdrew, then sliding back when he thrust in, squeezing him at the same time. Dear, God! How had she learned to do that?! She was whimpering now, wild, joyful whimpers that drowned out any fears he had that she wasn't enjoying this as much as he was. His grip on her hips tightened. His thrusts became faster. The simple knowledge that he was fucking Dana Scully from behind on his living room floor nearly sent him over the edge way too soon. The fact that she was loving it did. His testicles tightened and he slammed into her once...twice...three more times before his release came. His vision blurred and his body sagged. "Holy shit!" She was still moving underneath him, and her whimpers were desperate. He became aware of her fingers, which were touching and teasing their bodies where they were joined. He realized what she was trying to do and cursed himself. After taking so much from this woman, the least he could do was give her good sex. But here he was, finished, as she tried desperately to get herself off beneath him. With another curse, he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulled out of her, and lifted her upper body up off the floor. Sitting back on his heels, he pulled her upright and slid her up so she sat astride his thighs, her sweaty back to his chest. He held her tightly to him, knowing that if he let go, she would slide right off his lap. With his free hand, he pulled her hand away from her center and exchanged it with his own. She gasped as he slid three of his fingers deep into her, and he echoed her as he reveled in the heat he found. He began sliding his fingers in and out, letting his thumb trail up to play with her clit. Her head dropped back onto his shoulder, and she began rocking her hips, riding his hand. Since one arm was busy holding her upright and the other was busy down below, that left only his mouth to make love to her. He began to nuzzle her ear, tasting the sweat along her hairline with his tongue. Nibbling. Sucking. Kissing. Her cheek. Her jaw. Her neck. Anywhere he could reach. He felt her body stiffen and her movements became wild and erratic. "Ahh! Ahh! Ahh!" She was holding back. She wasn't going to let go. "Please, Scully," Mulder whispered in her ear, his fingers working her harder. "Please. I want to see you come. I want to know you're coming for me. Only me." "Only you," she whispered back. "Only... ahhhhh! Oh, God!" He held her as she shuddered uncontrollably, watching her face as the orgasm swept through her, reveling in the beauty of Dana Scully finally letting go. A fresh wave of moisture flooded his hand, which he continued to tease her with, determined to draw out her pleasure as long as possible. Finally, her body drooped in his arms. They sat like that for a long time, Mulder's hand cupping her protectively. When he brought his hand up, she moaned in displeasure. He looked at it curiously, at the wetness that enveloped it. It hit him suddenly that it wasn't just her juices that covered it, but his own semen; he hadn't worn a condom. She could get pregnant. So why didn't that bother him? "Mmmmm..." Scully's humming sounded sated and wonderful to his ears. With a smile, he shifted slightly, leaning back to brush away the hair from the back of her neck. Yep. There was her scar. It was the first time he had seen it since she had told him about having the implant removed several months ago. He felt her stiffen and knew she was aware of what he was looking at. With a sigh, he kissed her, his tongue tracing the scar. Her body relaxed once more and her head dropped forward. He lifted his head. "I'm sorry." She tensed again. "What?" "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry." Scully suddenly pushed away from him, turned to face him on her knees, brought up her hand, and slapped him. ***** End 2/3