<![CDATA[
Where Do We Go From Here?
by Stephanie Kaiser
scully@galenalink.com
Rating: R. Karen M, Rhoni and Nancy write the wonderfully erotic NC-17
tales much better than I do, so I will let them continue with those, for
now ;)
Classification: A, MSR
Spoilers: Up and through all current season 5 episodes.
Keywords: Mulder/Scully romance.
Summary: A stormy night in a hotel room without power brings up old
memories of the past. Questions concerning the future are asked and
answered.
Disclaimer: All rights belong to Chris Carter, 1013 productions and
Fox Entertainment. I do however believe that Mulder and Scully belong
to David and Gillian, without them there would be words but no soul.
Author's notes: This story has come about because this author has been
reading way too many incredibly well written but torturously sad stories
lately. Special thanks to Melissa and Karen, one of these days I might
deserve the great friendships that you each have shown me. All comments can
be sent to scully@galenalink.com
Where Do We Go From Here?
The thunderstorm outside the hotel room raged with fury. She had given
up the notion of falling asleep over an hour ago and moved to the chair next
to the window to watch nature's assault. Dana Scully hated storms--she
wasn't afraid of them, didn't fear them--she just hated them.
She hated the violence of the heavens, raw and exposed, punishing the
ground beneath with its weapons of wind and rain. She hated the vicious
strikes of lightning that lit the darkness destroying all that stood in its
path. But most of all she hated the deafening blasts of anger booming from
the sky.
Scientifically, she could account for the purpose and cause of each
offensive act by nature, but the knowledge fell empty in comparison to the
turmoil they caused within her. She couldn't remember when exactly she had
developed this particular distaste for storms. Maybe spending too many
rainy days and nights in graveyards or chasing mutants with Mulder could do
that to you.
Mulder. He would wait another fifteen minutes or so before knocking on
her door. He would offer up some feeble excuse, such as not being able to
get the Knicks' game on his television, and he would wait out the storm with
her. Mulder knew she hated storms. Mulder knew all her secrets.
The small light next to the bed flickered--once...twice--the third time
the room remained bathed in darkness. She stood perfectly still, allowing
her eyes to adjust, acutely aware of the sound of her own breathing.
A muffled thud coming from the other side of the wall next to her caused
her to smile. Carefully maneuvering in the darkness she crossed the room to
the door. She waited only seconds and when she heard the door to the room
next to hers slam shut, she opened her door allowing a barrage of rain and
one very wet Mulder to rush in. She hated storms. Fox Mulder hated the
dark. She knew a few of his secrets too.
"Nice weather we're having," she greeted, closing the door.
Mulder shook the rain off his coat, removing the wet garment and
throwing it over a nearby chair.
"Yeah, if you're a duck."
Scully dodged the splaying water as he shook his head and grabbed a
towel from the bathroom. Taking the towel she offered, he sat down on the
bed and used it to roughly dry his hair. When he reappeared from underneath
the towel, Scully fought to hide a smile. Only Mulder could make still
damp, tousled, towel-dried hair look good.
"You better not be dripping on the bed, Mulder. I have to sleep
there..." she issued in mock warning as a particularly loud burst of thunder
interrupted her. "Eventually." She cast a frustrated glance toward the
window, seeing that it was still raining as hard as when it began.
Mulder saw her tense at the sound and patted next to where he sat on the
bed suggestively.
"Maybe you should come over here and protect your interests." He
grinned at his own words.
The room was dark but he didn't have to physically see her expression to
know that her eyebrow was raised and her lips were pursed. All of Scully's
expressions were painted on his heart, but he was most familiar with this
one. The expression that conveyed, louder than words ever could, 'I may be
smaller than you, but I can still kick your scrawny ass'. He usually took
reassurance when he got that look in that at least she was paying some
attention to his ass.
"Careful, Mulder," she warned as she sat down on the floor a couple of
feet away from the end of the bed. She braced her back up against the wall,
pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. "This
reeks of consorting."
"Hell, Scully," Mulder grabbed a pillow and tossed it to the foot of
the bed. He stretched out on his stomach, propping his chin up with the
pillow. His gaze was level with hers. "I got you into my bed on our first
case. The thrill is gone." His voice taunted her as it left his lips in a
lazy drawl.
He was teasing her to keep her mind off the storm and she knew it. The
mention of their first case caused her memory to travel back in time. Her
life with Mulder, the early years. She smiled fondly. She remembered life
before Mulder, but it wasn't until she had walked into his office that she
began living her life. That moment seemed so long ago, so much longer than
the five years that had passed. She had been so young, so determined to
prove herself to her parents, to her new partner, to herself. Mulder hadn't
made it easy, but neither had she.
Looking around the room a strange sense of familiarity came over her.
"Mulder?"
"I know. Spooky, isn't it?"
She grimaced at the use of his hated nickname. She wasn't sure when
that had occurred either. When had the things that could hurt him become so
painful to her also?
"It's like that night, isn't it?" He asked softly. "The hotel room.
The rain on the window. The electricity going out."
"Except this time you're on the bed and I'm on the floor."
"I was still trying to make a good impression then."
"I see," she nodded. "So, do you always accuse people of spying on you
when you're trying to make a good impression?" Her voice was teasing yet
the question was direct.
"I don't know," he shrugged his shoulders. "That was the last time I
tried to make a good impression."
He watched as another small smile threatened her lips. She lowered her
head, resting her forehead on her knees. Her hair fell forward completely
masking her from him. Mulder watched her silently. He noticed small
tremors in her shoulders.
"Scully?" He asked concerned.
She looked up at him. He saw the grin on her face and she released a
small laugh, almost a giggle.
"What is it?" He didn't understand. He wanted to understand. Moving
off the bed he sat on the floor, joining her. His back was against the end
of the bed, one leg on either side of her, his feet pressing against the
wall she rested against. "What is it, Scully?"
"If I'd known then what I know now."
He felt a familiar knot begin to tighten in the pit of his stomach. The
knot that had the power to drive him to his knees. The tangled, twisted
knot made up of his fear of losing her. His fear that she regretted every
moment she spent with him.
"What..." His voice caught in his throat. "What would you have done
differently?"
She hesitated only for a moment, but that moment, for Mulder, lasted an
eternity.
"Nothing."
The relief he felt at her words quickly gave way to disbelief.
"Come on, Scully. If someone had come to you and told you in vivid
excruciating detail everything that was going to happen in the next five
years, you're telling me you wouldn't have run screaming from the room?"
"No, I wouldn't have run screaming from the room."
"Why not?"
She met his eyes with her own and a slow brilliant smile lit her
features.
"Because...I never would have believed."
His mind flashed back to the woman that had walked into his office so
many years ago. The woman who was destined to play skeptic to his role as
the believer. She was right, she never would have believed. He wasn't even
sure *he* would have given credence to the *entire* story.
"Come on, Scully. You wouldn't have believed that we would investigate
a colony of aliens that could change sexes and who could turn death for
their victims into a truly orgasmic experience?" He asked, thoroughly proud
of his own turn of phrase.
"We never proved that they were aliens," she responded quickly.
"Guess that answers my question. You wouldn't have believed," he
stated matter-of-factly. "There has to be one case, in five years, that you
might have believed if someone had told you it was going to happen
beforehand."
She reflected back over the years for a moment, searching her memory.
She shook her head.
"I don't think so. I wouldn't have believed a man, who needed to eat my
liver so that he could go back into hibernation for 30 years, would squeeze
through my heating duct in my bathroom. I wouldn't have believed that you
and I would almost die of old age in our thirties aboard a sinking ship. I
wouldn't have believed that a detour on the way to a convention in Florida
would pit us against a pair of mothmen and could get me to sing to you all
night in the middle of the forest. And I certainly wouldn't have believed
that a giant flukeman could live and thrive in a sewer while it searched for
a host."
"Give yourself some credit, Scully. I think you would have bought the
flukeman story."
"Then remind me when we get back to the office that I have an authentic
picture of an alien aircraft I want to sell you. Oh, that's right, you
already have one of those hanging on the wall," she teased.
"What would you change, if you could go back?"
"I can't go back Mulder," she answered firmly.
"But if you could?"
She looked to his eyes for explanation but found none. She knew those
eyes. She knew the depth of the emotion they could convey and the depth of
emotion they could veil. Here in the darkness, the force of the need she
read in those eyes forced the air from her lungs. He needed something from
her, of that she was certain. The storm outside was quickly being eclipsed
by the emotions raging within her.
"You've asked me this question before. Remember? My answer is the same
now as it was then. I wouldn't change a day."
"Scully," His voice was tortured, begging her to continue.
"What if I choose wrong? You can't change a single event in history
without altering events that take place after. What if the change I made
put you 10 more minutes away from me when Donnie Pfaster decided I was going
to be his next victim? What if the change I made prevented me from getting
to Alaska in time to treat your retro-virus?"
<Come on Mulder,> she thought silently. <I need a clue.>
"What if the change you made assured that you would have never met Duane
Barry?"
Her silence was killing him slowly. His eyes lost their courage and his
gaze fell away from hers to the floor. Every instinct he had screamed to
defuse the conversation, to make a joke--but he couldn't. Not this time.
This moment had been building for five years. He knew it. In his heart
he knew she had realized it also. Gone was the hesitant Scully, the Scully
that would have been uncomfortable in their present position on the floor,
the Scully that would have shied away from their current physical proximity.
The change unnerved him, but it also caused excitement to course through
him. There were answers he needed from her before he could act on that
excitement.
"Mulder, look at me." Her voice sliced softly through the silence,
coaxing him to meet her gaze.
What he saw reflected there encompassed everything he feared losing and
again he steeled himself against deflecting away from where he knew this
conversation had to go.
"I still would have gotten sick." She sounded strong and assured.
He watched her hand wander up to the hollow of her throat--it trembled
for the briefest of moments when her fingers came up empty. Her eyes darted
to the bedside table. He turned his head and saw the gold chain and cross
on the nightstand. Her voice caused him to turn back to her. "I have to
believe that I still would have gotten sick."
Scully reached out her arm and touched his shoulder. His eyes still
veiled the reason for his need but she needed to feel connected to him. Her
hand slid down his arm until it met his hand. The air in her lungs refused
to be released until she felt him tangle his fingers with her own. Both of
them held on tightly to the other.
"Do you know why I would never go back? Why I'm glad that neither one
of us can ever go back? Why I would never want to take that risk?" She
asked him.
"Why?"
Scully took a deep breath and placed all of her trust in the bond that
they shared. She was about to climb out on a limb she'd never been on
before. She prayed she wouldn't fall. Mulder would catch her. He wouldn't
let her fall.
"What if something changed, I still got sick, but this time I was alone.
I never would have survived without you, Mulder." She tightened her grip on
his hand and her heart soared when he returned the gentle pressure. "We
can't say for sure what caused my remission. I can say for certain that it
was your strength, your determination, your protective nature and your love
that saved me."
He felt the knot in his stomach begin to unravel but the chains of his
insecurities weren't about to completely free it yet. They were bound
tightly.
"But Scully..."
"Mulder," she interrupted. "Would you risk losing me?"
"No." His answer was as quick as it was vehement.
"If you had the opportunity to be assigned the perfect partner; someone
who was as open to extreme possibilities as you are, someone who never
questioned your theories, or your beliefs, would you wish that I hadn't been
the one to walk into your office five years ago?"
"No."
She heard his answer but she also read it in his eyes. His defenses
were coming down. A defenseless Mulder could pose a direct threat to her
heart. A defenseless Mulder could consume her, could make her want to be
consumed. Tonight, if he wanted to take possession of her she
wouldn't fight him. She would hand him her heart and pray that he
would treat it with the gentleness, compassion and love she knew he felt for
her.
"Why not?" She needed to make him see, the way she was beginning to,
the strength of their connection.
"I have my perfect partner," he stated simply. "You know how far to let
me climb out on a limb. You know when to pull me back and when to go ahead
and let me fall on my ass. You challenge me by not always agreeing with me.
You ground me when I become unfocused. I need an intellectual equal,
Scully. I need you. I trust you and I would hope that you trust me."
"Mulder?" Her heart was racing inside her chest, reiterating in Morse
code-like fashion that he had just told her that he needed her. "If that's
true why can't you believe that I feel the same way? You challenge me. You
make me search beyond what I know to be true."
"I force you out on those limbs with me, Scully."
"Is that what you think?" She leaned her body forward so that she could
make sure he understood what she was telling him. "Mulder, if I follow you
out on one of those limbs, or if I'm the first one to climb out, it's
because that's where I want to be. And Mulder, you have never let me fall
on my ass. You said that you trusted me. Is that true?"
His hand reached out instantly, grabbing hers. He held both of her
hands now and she moved her body even closer toward his. Her toes brushing
against his inner thighs.
"You know that you're the only one I trust. How could you even doubt
that?"
His voice sounded hurt and fragile, causing her heart to ache in her
need to shield him from pain.
"I believe that you trust me, but not with everything. You trust me
with your computer passwords. You trust me with you confidential files.
You trust me with a key to not only your car but to your apartment. You've
trusted me with your secrets. You trust me with your life."
"I trust you with everything I have, Scully. What are you asking me
for? What do you want?"
"Who do you trust with your heart, Mulder? Who has that key?" She
refused to notice that the metaphorical limb was getting thinner as she
climbed further out.
He wouldn't let her fall.
He wouldn't let her fall.
"Mulder, it's been five years. When I got sick you were the only thing
I was holding onto. There are times when I know that I'm the only thing
you're hanging onto. I can feel it. How much longer are we going to wait
before we act on what our hearts have known to be true probably for quite a
while now? Are we going to wait one more year before we say the words? Are
we going to wait two more years? Three more? Are we going to wait five
more years before we can start living the lives we crave? Or can we start
living tonight?"
She shook her hands free from his and reached up to take his face in her
hands. She moved her legs to the outside of his, her feet firmly planted on
either side of his hips, allowing her to move more closely to him. Nose to
nose. Gazes locked.
"Where do we go from here?" She asked him quietly.
His skin was on fire. He felt the curve of her hips pressed against the
inside of his thighs and he wanted her. He wanted to take everything she
was offering and give her so much more. He wanted the life she was
describing so badly that late at night his body ached for her, his soul
crying out for her presence.
His insecurities and feelings of self-worthlessly had been working on
the knot in his stomach while she spoke. It had grown so large he felt as
if it could split him in half. He couldn't control the war of opposing
emotions going on inside of him. His mind and his heart were clashing like
two knights engaged in a jousting match. Things were moving too quickly.
He had to get out. He had to think. He couldn't feel. He couldn't allow
himself to feel. Could he?
With shaky movements, he removed her hands from his face. He placed his
hands on her shoulders, trying to gently push her back.
"I think it's time I went back to my room."
His eyes pleaded with her but she shook her head.
"No," she stated not moving a muscle to allow him to get up.
________________________
Continued in part 2.
Where Do We Go From Here?
by Stephanie Kaiser
scully@galenalink.com
See disclaimer in part 1.
"No," she repeated. "I'm tired of one of us always going back to their
room alone.
Aren't you tired of being alone, Mulder? I know I am. I can't believe
we've let it go on this long. All those nights we've needed each other and
yet neither one of us had the courage to say it. I found out I had cancer
and yet I let you drop me off at my apartment like nothing was wrong. You
let a man drill holes in your head. You held a gun to your temple and then
turned it on me. You cried in my arms and I dropped you off at your hotel
room that night and took the room next to it. Neither one of us slept. I
heard you pacing, flipping television channels but I didn't knock on your
door."
She felt his hands relax on her shoulders and she saw some of the inner
battle raging behind his eyes recede. Hope gave her the courage to
continue.
"Do you know what's the worst of all? The hospitals. Waiting for
hours. Just holding your hand, willing you my strength to be able to look
at me. Praying that this isn't the time you're not going to wake up.
Seeing you open your eyes, talking to you, and then leaving the hospital--
alone. I never quite know what to do with myself then. Once, I went to
your apartment. I thought I needed to feed the fish, but I don't think I
was ready to be completely without you yet. Do you know what I'm talking
about? Have you ever felt that way when you've walked out of my hospital
room?"
"I sit outside."
His voice was so soft she had to ask him to repeat what he had just
said.
"What?"
"I sit outside your room," he repeated after clearing his throat. "I
can't make myself leave you, in case you were to need me. So I sit outside
your room in the hallway, and I wait."
"I do need you, Mulder. Just like you needed me the night you came to
my hospital room when you thought I was sleeping and you cried next to my
bed, holding my hand."
His eyes widened.
"Why didn't you let me know you were awake?"
"Because you needed me. Even if it was just to be in the same room with
me. If I had opened my eyes you would have left. I couldn't do that."
She reached up and stroked along his cheek-bone with her thumb.
"Do you know how hard it was for me to resist taking you into my
arms--because I knew you would pull away?" Her other hand moved to rest on
his side. Applying only enough pressure so that he could feel it there.
Hoping that the warmth would help to soothe him. "I'm not going to make it
easy for you to leave me again, Mulder."
"It's never been easy for me to leave you, Scully."
His voice was rough, raspy. She knew that it was time to take the final
step out onto that limb. He would catch her.
Her hands stopped moving, first the one caressing his face, and then
the one at his side. She pulled them away from him, immediately she found
herself missing his warmth.
"I'm not going to walk away from you again, either." She sat in silence
as her words registered in his eyes. "I love you...and I'm never going to
let you feel like you're alone again."
They both sat perfectly still, until she began to lean forward and her
lips brushed his skin just below his jawline. <Don't let me fall.> She saw
that his eyes had closed. She moved her lips lower down his throat, she
felt his groan beneath the sensitive flesh before she heard it. <Don't let
me fall.>
The battle was over the minute that he had heard her words, the instant
that he felt her lips on his skin. She had cast out his fears. For now.
The knot in his stomach was still there but its intensity had been eclipsed
by his love and his need for her. For Scully. She was right. He couldn't
wait another year, two, five, before he held her, before he loved her. He
couldn't wait another minute.
His arms wrapped around her and he pulled her to him. Her legs wrapped
around him and she accepted and returned his ardent embrace.
"I love you, Scully." He whispered into her ear.
A deep sigh of relief rushed from her. He hadn't let her fall.
They held each other, becoming used to the feel and heat of one another.
It was familiar, yet new. It was comfortable, yet it was incredibly erotic
to be sitting on the floor in the dark wrapped in each others arms
knowing that neither one of them would walk away. Not this time. Never
again. He pulled away from her and gazed into the eyes of the woman who had
been strong enough to face both their demons. He would spend eternity
making sure that she never regretted the struggle.
She saw in his eyes that Mulder had just come to some inner decision.
Scully felt curiously suspended in the darkened room, as if she was no
longer completely herself but was somehow on the verge of becoming joined
with another--spiritually, mentally, and physically.
He lowered his head and she felt the hesitant yet firm pressure of his
lips touch hers. Mulder's mouth moved on her lips, slowly. Inevitably
taking control, and then demanding a response.
Scully moaned faintly and felt Mulder's hands slip from her shoulders
down her spine and to the small of her back. Her arms went around his neck,
encouraging him, needing him more tightly pressed against her.
She could have sworn the large, strong hands that held her trembled
slightly. She used the leverage she found by having her arms around his
neck to raise her hips from the floor and rock against his evident
need for her. His palms curved around her full hips as he urged her against
his lower body. Her gently curving breasts were crushed tightly against his
chest.
She felt his strong fingers luxuriating in the shape of her
buttocks and she heard him groan. The heat of his mouth was colliding with
the torridness of her own, bringing alive sensations that she had been
waiting a life time to experience.
She opened her eyes bemusedly when Mulder finally released her mouth.
She looked up at him, her lips still parted, her eyes half-veiled behind her
lashes. Mulder lifted his hand to touch her hair.
"The color of a sunset," he mused, twisting his fingers gently through
the silken strands. "The time of day when light and dark meet and embrace."
"Is that how you see us Mulder?" Scully asked, her voice barely above a
whisper. Her breath still teasing his lips. "Opposing forces? Light and
dark?"
"Not opposing forces Scully." Mulder's fingers dropped from her hair to
the line of her jaw. He ran his thumb along it with a touch that was all
the more sensual by virtue of its obvious restraint. His eyes never left
hers as he moved his hand lower, slipping it down the column of her throat
until his palm settled on her breast. "Darkness needs light. It couldn't
exist without light." His palm glided across her nipple and it hardened in
response.
"Are we still talking about spontanious acts of nature?" Her
voice was deep and sensual. Her breath now hot on his neck. He slid his
hand over and cupped the weight of her other breast, skimming his thumb over
the sensitive nipple through the thin fabric of her nightshirt. He heard
her sharp intake of breath.
"You shine like gossamer, Scully. You came into my life and you spread
light into all the dark places." He brought his hands up to cradle her
face. His hands now sure and gentle on her skin. "I want to feel your skin
against mine," he breathed.
Scully covered one of his hands with her own as he held her face. Her
fingers were trembling, she realized vaguely. He raised the fingers of the
hand she held and laced them with hers. Slowly, he lowered both their hands
to his waist. He untangled their fingers and left her hand on his side.
She looked into his eyes questioningly, her head tilting into the hand
that still cupped her cheek.
"I want to feel your skin against mine," he repeated.
Her eyes widened in understanding. Her other hand moved to his side and
she gathered the material of his shirt between her fingers. Her hands
trailed a slow path up the length of his torso. His skin scorched her
finger tips as she pulled the material so very slowly up and up, until she
was able to cast it aside. Instantly her hands were on him, exploring and
learning every nerve and muscle of his throat. His shoulders. His chest.
His arms. Her exploration came to an abrupt halt when she felt his hands at
her sides, teasing her shirt up an inch at a time. His finger tips grazing
her skin as hers had done to his moments earlier.
Scully trembled again as she sensed the full force of his need. She
rocked her hips against his rapidly growing arousal, more forcefully this
time. A low, primitive growl came from deep within his throat. She smiled
as he hastily pulled the shirt from her body.
Mulder pulled Scully closer until her nipples touched his chest. Crisp,
masculine hair teased the sensitive tips of her breasts until she couldn't
tell if the sensation was exquisitely exciting or exquisitely painful.
Bending his head, he brushed his mouth leisurely across her lips. She
made a small, inarticulate little sound that utterly captivated him.
Deliberately he deepened the kiss, crushing her to him. He felt her legs
tighten around him, her heels digging into the flesh of his ass, allowing
her hips to undulate against his throbbing erection. Satisfaction poured
through him. Dana Scully wanted him. His blood surged through his veins
like the lightning exploding outside as it broke through the sky.
Relinquishing her lips, he lowered his head and began pressing kisses
between her breasts, his tongue tasting her sweet flesh. His lips crawled
along the side of her breast, then his tongue circled the tip before his
mouth covered it, sucking gently. She dropped her head back as her fingers
gripped Mulder's shoulders. His lips again sought hers, his tongue delving
deeply into the sweet recesses of her mouth, hot and moist. Her throaty
sounds sent shivers through his body.
Mulder locked one arm around her waist and he lifted her body against
his. Bracing the other arm on the bed he pulled his knees up and with his
feet planted firmly on the floor and he surged to his feet, bringing Scully
with him. Her legs were still clamped around his waist.
He leaned his head forward and gently rested his forehead against hers
as he held her in his arms.
"Are you sure, Mulder?"
"That's supposed to be my question. Where do we go from here?" He
asked her, repeating her earlier query.
"The bed, Mulder. We go to the bed."
He smiled, easing her down and back against the pillows flattening his
hand on her soft stomach. When she looked up at him with wordless
longing, he hooked his fingers beneath the waistband of her panties and her
pajamas and stroked the delicate silk down to her ankles in one easy,
sweeping motion. She kicked them the rest of the way off, using her foot to
push them to the floor.
Scully sat up slightly. Using her hands she found the draw string of
Mulder's sweat pants at his waist. Untangling the cords, she deftly freed
the knot and loosened the waist enough so she was able to push the material
past his hips and to the floor.
Scully became absorbed by the sight of him. The taut planes of his
chest gave way to the flat, hard surface of his stomach. Below that the
powerful out line of his manhood was enlarged and heavy with the
unmistakable evidence of his desire.
He kneeled on the bed next to her, moving his hand to her breast,
cupping her gently as he bent his head to taste the skin of her throat.
Scully stirred beneath him as he used his thumb to tease and tantalize a
nipple. Her arms went around him instinctively.
"Go ahead and touch me." Mulder groaned heavily as she obeyed. "You're
so soft, so beautifully soft and warm," he muttered against the curve of her
breast. Taking the erect nipple into his mouth he tugged gently until
Scully cried out softly.
His hand slid lower, shaping the small curve of her waist and fingering
the gentle roundness below. Scully's breath came more quickly as the
sensual heat was stoked higher in her body. The fire in Mulder was
reaching out to consume her. She let her own hands slip down the length of
him, delighting in the hard contours of his shoulders and back. She arched
herself against Mulder's stroking hand. He groaned thickly in response
capturing her lips. His tongue surged between her lips, claiming her with
an intimacy that foreshadowed what was to follow.
Gently, his body nestled between her legs, his lips pressing hot, moist
kisses along her flesh as his body traveled down the length of hers. His
tongue tasted the flesh of her breasts, of her stomach, before running down
her thighs.
She felt his warm breath fan her thighs, so close to the apex where they
melted into her body. She felt the slight rustle between her legs, the way
she imagined a tree would feel in a gentle breeze.
"I love you," he pledged.
Scully felt his tongue caress her most intimate center, the gasp that
escaped her lips was brought on by sheer pleasure. His rough tongue stroked
her silken folds, sending sensations reeling through her. She gave herself
up to the sweet bliss, so intense and yet so soft, calling out his name in
her ecstasy.
He moved up, kissing her fully on the mouth. She tasted herself on his
tongue.
He lifted himself above her, and when he would have entered her, she
stayed his actions with both her hands pressed to his hips. She pushed him
onto his back, kissing him tenderly to silence his protests. Pulling away,
she began her descent, placing kisses along his chest, down his stomach,
and along his thighs as he had done to her. He threaded his fingers into
her hair, bringing her head up, his eyes locking into hers.
"You don't have..."
"I want to," she whispered hoarsely as she lowered her lips. She felt
the slight shudder run through him, and his fingers tightened their grasp on
her hair, his reaction thrilling her.
Mulder gave himself up to the swirling sensations until he thought he'd
be able to stand it no longer. Sitting up, he reached out to her, lifted
her and settled her back down to sheath him, his hands helping to guide her
movements. As she arched back, his mouth began to seek out new trails along
her flesh.
Scully felt the sensations mounting, one on top of another. From the
top of her head to the tip of her toes, no part of her body was spared the
tingling that deepened with each intensly satisfying meeting of their hips.
She felt suddenly desperate to consume this man. She grasped his face in
her hands and brought her mouth down hard on his. His scent and her scent
mingling. Pressing her body as close as she could, wanting to touch him the
way he touched her, not just her body but her soul. His caresses touched
more than just her flesh. His passion seeped down to her innermost core,
always leaving her more than she was before.
Mulder thrust his hips up, driving into her, a ragged groan on his lips
as he possessed her completely. His hands gripped her shoulders, pulling
her down forcefully to meet each thrust. His movement, counterpoint to her
own, began to make her whole world spin.
Scully cried out, her nails scoring across his chest. She was one with
him, bound to him, yet free. Her whole body arched with sensual tension.
Eyes closed, head thrown back in abandon, she matched Mulder's frenzied
pace.
He drew a hard, tried breath. Shivering, he snatched at control,
breaking out in a sweat with the effort of it. Rolling, he settled over
her, pressing her into the mattress with his strength, his welcome weight.
He surged, pushing into her. Striving, panting, they stared into each
other's faces, met in each other's eyes. It was wondrous, and they knew
it. It was heady, exploring granduer. It was a perfect union.
Soft, deep cries, formless words, bound them. They caught each other
with desperate hands, their hearts aching as they held tight. They soared
towards the heavens, climbing higher and higher until the clouds parted and
the world fell away beneath them. She heard her name on his lips, felt the
deep, shuddering climax that he was no longer able to restrain. Then he
moved one last, forceful time within her and she, too, was whispering his
name in surrender and triumph.
Seeking to steady his own breathing, he pulled her so that she was lying
compliant on top of him. Their arms tightened around each other.
"Scully?" His voice was slow, sated.
"Hmmmm.."
"When did the power come back on?"
Scully raised her head lazily to look at the blinking alarm clock and
the glow of the small lamp next to the bed. Her attention turned towards
the window.
"Probably when the storm ended," she answered coyly. "We must have been
too preoccupied to notice." She kissed his chest before resting her hand
back to where her lips had just been. His hand stroked her head, running
his fingers through her hair, soothing her to sleep.
"Scully?"
"Go to sleep, Mulder." She yawned sleepily, pulling the blankets up
around them.
"I don't know where we go from here, but I do know that wherever we
go, we'll go there together."
He kissed the top of her head softly before reaching over to turn out
the light.
"Scully?" He asked after a few moments.
"What, Mulder?" She answered, her voice laced with amusement.
"Five years ago, if someone would have told you that we would be lying
here like this.... that we would fall in love and become lovers. Would you
have run screaming from the room?"
She raised her head and sliding up his body her mouth found his.
Running her hands up to cup his face she paused to leisurely suck on his
bottom lip before pulling away, fulfilling yet another personal fantasy.
"No, I wouldn't have run screaming from the room, because *that* I would
have believed. You got me into your bed on our first case, remember?"
She kissed him again, more thoroughly than before.
"Do you still think the thrill is gone?" She asked against his mouth.
"That was one theory that I am thrilled to have had you debunk."
"Good, now go to sleep. It'll be morning soon."
She moved so that she was on her side, facing the night stand. Mulder
wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her so that her back rested
tightly against his chest. She felt him sigh as his body relaxed.
Her eyes began to drift closed and her breathing fell into rhythm with
his. Suddenly her eyes popped back open.
"Mulder?"
"I thought you wanted to go to sleep?" He questioned burrowing against
her sleepily.
"What time are we supposed to meet the sheriff in the morning?"
"Ten."
Reaching over to the end table she switched on the light. Checking her
watch, she reset the clock and began to set the alarm.
"Do you want me to give you enough time to run in the morning?"
"No, I think tomorrow I'm going to want to sleep in," he smiled.
She set the alarm and turning the light back off she snuggled back in
next to Mulder.
"See," he whispered in her ear. "This is an improvement professionally
already. I would have over slept."
"Goodnight, Mulder."
"Goodnight, Scully."
He kissed her temple and they slept.
_________________________
The end ;)
Feedback would be very nice.
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