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From: TBishop27@aol.com
Date: Mon, 12 Jul 1999 22:23:24 EDT
Subject: xfc One Touch
Source: xfc

One Touch
by TBishop27@aol.com
Rated: R to NC-17 
Category:  Mulder/Scully UST 
Summary:  Just imagine what an innocent touch can lead to.
Feedback:  I'd say it's better than sex but I'd be lying. (Grin) Write to me 
anyway I love hearing what you think.  But, as always, be warned...Flames 
will be forwarded to that dark part of my writer's imagination that roams the 
night in search of victims.
Archive:  Yes.  Just let me know where so I can visit.
Disclaimer:  This Mulder and Scully are mine!  Chris doesn't let his play 
like this.
Author's note:  I'm supposed to be working on something much more substantial 
but I needed a break and had a craving for a hot and steamy smut biscuit.  
It's a damn good thing these aren't fattening!  I am almost finished with the 
sequel to this piece entitled 'Touch Me Again'.  Hopefully, it will be ready 
to post in the next day or so.



One Touch


It happened without any warning whatsoever.  One touch.  One touch and we 
were both gone.  Just like that time in Padget's cell when she touched my arm 
intending to calm me and started a blazing fire between us whose searing heat 
even Padget could feel.  This time we were in Skinner's office seated side by 
side with the AD glaring across his desktop at us.  Skinner said something 
that provoked me and Scully had put a gentle warning hand on my knee as she 
knew I was about to open my big mouth and get us both deeper into trouble.  
That tiny, perfectly manicured hand of hers burnt though the thin fabric of 
my slacks scorching the flesh beneath.  Every nerve ending in my body awoke 
at that moment.  Every muscle tensed.  I turned to face her, my well 
practiced mask momentarily slipping, revealing my lust.  And as they met 
mine, those blue eyes held a desire that my body had only one response to.  
Jesus!  Not now.  Not here.  She pulled her hand back as if bitten but it was 
too late for me.  I am painfully hard and praying to any and all Gods who 
might be listening to let this meeting last long enough for things to settle 
down...so to speak.  At the same time I am wonder how the hell that's 
supposed to happen with Scully-the-love-goddess-of-my-fantasies sitting only 
inches away from me.  She'd kick my ass but good if she knew what I was 
thinking right now.  Wouldn't she?  Or just maybe... I let myself entertain a 
thought I know I'm going to regret...maybe she'd like what I had in mind.  Me 
and Scully doing the wild thing right here in our bosses office.  Visions of 
Scully writhing on Skinner's desk while I get something straight between us 
that's needed clarification for far too long send my mind spinning out of 
control.  Our gazes are still locked and she licks her lips to moisten them 
or because she really has read my mind and wants to torture me to death right 
here in front of Skinner.  Either way the effect is the same and something 
between a low moan and a growl escapes me before I can stop it.  She must 
have heard because I see her shudder.  The sexual tension between us is 
quickly reaching critical mass.  I want this woman now.  No. This is beyond 
want.  This is need. Painful, aching, I'll-go-insane-if-I-don't-have-her-now 
need.  The air around me is thick with Scully pheromones and I have to slow 
my respiration's to compensate or risk hyperventilation.  Everything fades 
out of existence except us.  I can actually feel myself making love to her, 
flesh on flesh, pushing, thrusting grinding, penetrating so deep, claiming 
her as mine over and over until she screams my name in surrender.  Scully 
screaming my name as she is rocked by a climax unlike anything she has ever 
known.  No man could love her as I do.  No man could satisfy her as I would.  
I wonder if she knows this?  I wonder if she realizes what I could and would 
do for her if we ever let it happen?  Something *is* happening.  It's never 
been quite like this between us, this sudden, this hot, this inescapable.  
Something has snapped.  How could such a simple act, a tiny innocent gesture, 
be responsible for this explosion of libidos?  I chew nervously at my bottom 
lip and Scully mirrors my action.  Oh God!  God, how I wish it were my teeth 
tugging at that full, red, glossed to tantalizing perfection, bottom lip. Me 
tasting the long too forbidden fruit, sliding my greedy tongue across that 
soft, slick surface and beyond into the hot, wet heaven of her waiting mouth. 
 Tasting her.  I already know her flavor.  My Scully tastes like an 
incredibly complex Cabernet, like dark rich chocolate truffles, like just 
picked, sun-ripened strawberries.  I would devour her as a starving man, 
consuming her all as if my very life depended upon it.    

Jesus, it's unbearably warm in here!  She feels it too.  She tugs at the open 
collar of her blouse to let the trapped heat escape.  That only draws my 
attention down.  My eyes strain to see more of her creamy white skin than the 
modest opening allows.  With every ounce of my strength I fight back the urge 
to rip those buttons off with my teeth.  Her chest heaves slowly up and down 
as I watch.  In my mind I have stripped away that all too conservative blouse 
and the lacy garment beneath it, seeing past them to the two curvaceous 
mounds with inviting rosy tips calling out to me.  Calling me to worship.  I 
would gladly drop to my knees in reverent submission were she to allow my 
unworthy hands to touch her sacred bosom.  God bless my eidetic memory, I 
recall with perfect clarity every luscious detail of Scully's breast.  She is 
beautiful.  I am struck blind with a jealous rage every time I am reminded 
that other men have known the pleasure that I have only imagined. This woman 
is mine.  I have to make her understand that.  No more Jack Willis', Ed 
Jerses, or Phillip Padgets.  She's mine.  I will take her, show her, make her 
believe that there is no other for her.  So much for letting things settle 
down.

Skinner clears his throat and drags me back to reality.  "Agents?"

Oh shit!  I watch the blush slide over Scully's skin as she turns her 
attention back to our boss.  I can feel the heat rising up behind my own 
cheeks as I regretfully take my eyes off my partner and return them front and 
center.  Skinner looks a little embarrassed himself, but mostly he looks 
pissed.  I don't know exactly how long that little exchange between Scully 
and I took but I have a feeling Skinner didn't enjoy the show.  My heart is 
pounding about a thousand times per minute and I feel the sweat beginning to 
form on my brow.  I suddenly envision Dr. Dana Scully performing lifesaving 
CPR after a massive coronary collapses her over heated partner.  It's not an 
unpleasant image.

"Sir?"  Scully recovers first but her voice is rough like it is when I call 
her in the middle of the night and wake her from a deep sleep.  Groggy Scully 
and aroused Scully sound amazingly similar.  I wonder what 
fucked-to-within-an-inch-of-her-life-by-her-eternally-grateful-partner Scully 
sounds like?  

"Is there something going on I should be made aware of?"

"No!"  We reply in unison and a little too quickly.  Like we're guilty of 
something more than just wishful thinking and erotic fantasies.  Who are we 
kidding?

Suppressing a smirk, the AD does his best to sound stern.  "I need some time 
to think up a suitable punishment for you two.  In the interim I would 
strongly suggest you keep out of my direct line of sight.  In fact, go home!  
I don't want to catch either of you around this building until Monday 
morning.  Do I make myself clear, agents?"

Scully nods and makes a quick and thankful exit, never once looking back at 
me.  I, on the other hand, am a little slower getting out of the chair, my 
stride a little less fluid.  I hear a chuckle from behind be as I reach for 
the door handle.

"Agent Mulder."  He says and I look back over my shoulder to catch just the 
hint of a smile as it disappears off his face.  "You seem to be experiencing 
some discomfort.  You might want to see a *doctor* about that."

There are very few people at the Bureau who are privy to Walter Skinner's 
unbelievably dry sense of humor.  I wish to God right now that I were not one 
of them.  At least Scully was saved the humiliation of that remark.  "Thank 
you, Sir.  I will."  Is the only come back I am willing to risk at this 
point.  Then I am out the door where Skinner's secretary fixes me with a 
puzzled stare.  I ignore her.  My only thought is getting back downstairs to 
the basement before my partner can get away.  

I need her to touch me again...


Fini


Life is too short to drink bad wine.