feedback: msnsc21[at]yahoo.com
Title: Secret Holiday
Author: ML
Email: msnsc21@yahoo.com
Feedback: always welcome
Distribution: Gossamer, Ephemeral, yes; anyone else, just
drop me a line. Thanks!
Spoilers: nope
Rating: R
Summary: The best holidays are the ones we declare for
ourselves.
Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully aren't mine. They mostly
belong to David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson, but Chris
Carter created them, and Ten Thirteen and FOX own the
rights. I mean no infringement, and I'm not making any
profit from them.
Thanks to Char for a bit o'beta, and to Carol for egging
me on...
=====
Secret Holiday
by ML
Thump. Off came one shoe.
Thump. The second one followed. Ah, blessed relief.
Scully rubbed the top of one foot along her calf as she
sorted through the mail. She rolled her head from side to
side, relieving some of the stiffness from hours standing
at an autopsy table, and then the long drive home.
It was so much nicer when she could ride home with Mulder.
She didn't mind him driving, and he wasn't offended if she
dozed a little. And lately, there'd been an added bonus:
more often than not these days, Mulder came upstairs with
her. Sometimes he stayed all night.
Where was Mulder, anyway? Scully had made him promise he
wouldn't go off on some wild goose chase. He swore he'd
stay in the DC area, and that he wouldn't investigate any-
thing on his own. As she left for Quantico, he'd mumbled
something about doing some research with the Gunmen, and
said he'd "be in touch."
He'd called her a couple of hours ago, asking if he could
come by that evening to "show her something." Scully wasn't
sure if this was Mulder-speak for "wanna get lucky tonight?"
or if he had something work-related to discuss away from the
office. This thing between them was so new, they hadn't
gotten their codes straight yet.
Either way, she'd be glad to see him. She worried when he
went for too long without calling her. The only times she
hadn't heard from him every few hours, he'd been presumed
dead, or trapped somewhere.
Then she noticed her answering machine light winking at her.
With some trepidation, Scully pressed the play button.
"Hey Scully, it's me. Got a little held up, so I might be
later than I thought. I'll bring dinner, so don't start
without me, okay?"
Well, he didn't sound distressed. He'd probably gotten
sucked into some new game at the Gunmen's lair and wanted
to finish it up. She couldn't tell from the background
noise where he was calling from.
Her mind somewhat eased, Scully turned her thoughts to
easing her body. A nice long soak in the tub would be
heavenly, and if she wasn't done before Mulder got there,
would that be such a bad thing? Visions of Mulder catching
her in the tub made her smile.
x-x-x-x
More than an hour later, the water was cooling off for
the second time and her fingers and toes were turning
distinctly prune-like. With a sigh, Scully pulled the
drain plug and rinsed herself off. It looked like neither
of them would have any bathtub fantasies realized that
night.
The bath hadn't even been very relaxing. She'd been on
edge, listening for Mulder. Wrapping her bathrobe around
her, Scully shuffled into the kitchen. Her stomach
growled softly.
Mulder had said he'd bring dinner but it was getting late
and she hadn't eaten much that day. She took a carrot
from the crisper drawer and nibbled on it as she returned
to the bedroom.
It was too early for pajamas, especially with Mulder coming.
She didn't want him to think she had the wrong idea if he
really did want to talk about a case. They hadn't talked
much about it, but they both were trying to keep some kind
of separation between work and their personal lives.
Considering how their lives were intertwined already, she
reflected, it was proving to be some feat. If we're success-
ful, she thought, we'd be written up in some journal. "FBI
Agents Find Extra Hours in the Day," or "Agents by Day,
Lovers by Night."
No. It sounded like one of Mulder's movies put like that.
Or one of those women's magazines she flipped through in the
checkout line. They loved titles like that.
Where the hell was Mulder?
She yanked open a drawer and pulled out some old sweats.
Then she pulled open her underwear drawer with a little too
much force and it pulled out of the bureau, spilling its
contents on the floor.
There it was, peeking out from under all the practical
tailored bras and panties. A navy blue camisole and tap
pant set, made of nearly sheer silk and trimmed with black
lace. She'd bought it a couple of years ago, during a brief
period of euphoria after her remission. At the time, she
couldn't admit even to herself the reason why she'd bought
it, and not long after that she'd stuffed it in the back of
her drawer, unworn.
She held the soft garments in her hands, fingering the
delicate lace, letting the cool silk slip over her skin.
It warmed against her, at once sensuous and soothing, like
a lover's gentle touch.
She blushed at the romantic imagery. Neither she nor Mulder
were hearts and flowers kind of people. Valentine's Day
had come and gone without either of them acknowledging it.
She suspected Mulder only remembered Christmas every year
because of her. He never gave a thought to his birthday,
and whether or not he'd remember hers was a source of
amusement to her. Now that they were lovers, she didn't
think that would change.
Really, nothing fundamental had changed between them. She
hadn't come to love him suddenly; there had been no instant
falling. It had been a gradual acceptance of each other's
qualities and quirks. It was seeing beyond the surface to
the real person, revealed over time. It was the shared
experiences, joys and sorrows that no one else could ever
possibly understand, vulnerabilities no one else knew about.
It was as though they'd been thrown into an arranged
marriage, and yet had learned to love each other anyway,
despite the intentions of those who'd done the arranging.
She knew what she could expect from Mulder, more or less.
He knew what he could expect from her. She wouldn't change
a hair on him, nor want him to be something or someone he
couldn't be. Likewise, he didn't expect her to be anyone
other than who she was.
But that didn't mean that she couldn't do something she
thought would please him. She shrugged off her robe and
put the silk garments on. Then she pulled her old sweats
on over them, and went back to the living room to wait
for Mulder.
x-x-x-x
It was unbelievable how bad traffic was for this time of
night. Was it just him, or was rush hour starting earlier
and ending later? Mulder tapped his fingers impatiently
on the steering wheel. He'd promised Scully dinner, and
it was past all but the most fashionably late dinner hour.
Unless of course one lived in Spain, he thought sourly.
Might as well. It was taking as long as a transatlantic
flight just to get across town.
Making matters worse, his cell phone had died and he'd left
the spare battery at the office. He could pull over and
find a pay phone somewhere but it would just delay his
arrival that much more.
Damn Frohike anyway with his vague directions. He'd left
the Gunmen's in plenty of time. He'd gone home to shower
and change clothes before going in search of this place,
and now he regretted taking the time. Scully wouldn't
care if he showed up in the suit he'd worn all day. Or
he could have waited and changed once he got to Scully's.
Time was it wouldn't have mattered to him either way. But
now he liked to mark the transition from business to personal
time whenever he could. He needed and wanted to remind
himself that he was going to Scully's not because they were
working, but because she wanted his company and he wanted
hers.
Of course, he'd always wanted her company, and would use
any excuse to call her or drop by. Now he didn't need
one. He'd never really had a relationship like the one
he had with Scully. In the past, work was work, and
personal time was to be avoided.
That didn't mean that they never talked shop when they
spent time together off the clock. But now they didn't
have to pretend that there was no other reason for them
to be together. Until Scully, Mulder hadn't known how
great that could be. She'd been after him almost since
they'd become partners to take some time for himself but
he could never see any reason to do so. Until now. He
saw the appeal of taking a night off once in a while, as
long as it involved Scully.
Still, it was something he was having a little trouble
adjusting to. He made sure he called Scully before coming
over, even though he had a key and he knew she'd never tell
him not to come. They were still learning to balance -- or
maybe juggle -- the work, and everything else.
The smell of the food was driving him crazy. He was tempted
to open the bag and grab a bite right now. Patience, he
told himself. All good things come to those who wait. This
was a philosophy he'd not subscribed to in the past, but
being with Scully had changed his world view in ways, large
and small.
He wasn't just hungry for dinner, he was hungry for Scully.
He'd lived with the latter hunger for a long time, but now
he could appreciate the anticipation and almost enjoy it.
It didn't stop him from trying to get to Scully's the
fastest way he could.
x-x-x-x
Another forty-five minutes had crawled by. Scully
restrained herself from re-dialing the phone. It hadn't
done her any good the last fifteen times; she'd gotten
the out of range/not available message every time, and
leaving another voice mail seemed futile. If he hadn't
gotten the first one, he wouldn't get another fourteen,
either.
She couldn't help but worry. She'd worried almost from
the first of their partnership. She remembered the
incident at Ellens Air Base, and the first time she'd
threatened an authority figure who'd tried to keep her
from Mulder. She'd definitely crossed a line there.
She'd crossed it so many times since then she couldn't
give an accurate accounting of them.
A novel way to fall asleep instead of counting sheep,
she mused. How many times have I rescued Mulder? How
many times has he rescued me? Not really sleep inducing,
she concluded. More the stuff of nightmares.
Mulder had better show up pretty soon, though, or...
She heard the key in the lock and was instantly on alert.
The door swung open to reveal Mulder, arms full of
delicious-smelling bags.
"Remind me," he said as he pushed the door shut with
his foot, "never to take Frohike's advice on a short
cut."
"Where have you been, Mulder?" Scully asked. She
followed him into the kitchen, grimacing as her stomach
growled more loudly than before.
"Didja miss me?" he grinned as he unloaded the bags.
Scully had set the table and he placed cartons in the
middle while Scully got serving utensils.
"I was getting hungry," she said teasingly, but added
a bit diffidently, "I was a little worried, too."
"Aw Scully --" he wrapped his arms around her. "There
was nothing to worry about. Frohike told me about this
great barbecue place but his directions left a lot to be
desired. Next time I'll make him go with me."
"Or come by and get me," Scully suggested. "Then at
least we'd be lost together."
Mulder kissed her. "You say the sweetest things, Agent
Scully."
Scully blushed and turned away, missing Mulder's
disappointed look. Mulder let her go and finished
putting the food on the table, determined to make
nothing of it. "Come and get it," he said.
The silence might have been awkward if they both hadn't
been so hungry. Both were busy with their thoughts.
Scully regretted pulling away from Mulder, and Mulder
regretting letting her. Both resolved separately to
do something about it.
Finally, Scully said, "This is delicious. You went
to a lot of trouble, Mulder. Thank you."
"I did a lot of driving around, mostly," he said. "It's
not like I whipped up a gourmet meal or anything."
"Maybe this is your equivalent," she said. "You took
time and care to choose something you knew I'd like, you
went out of your way to go get it. I'd say that's just
as thoughtful."
"I do like the way you think, Scully," Mulder said. He
took her hand in his and kissed it.
Scully didn't pull away this time, but she felt
compelled to say, "I don't need to be wooed, Mulder,
but I do appreciate a thoughtful gesture."
This time she could see Mulder's hurt look. "Yeah,
flowers and candy are nice, but I've always heard it's
the thought that counts," he quipped.
Oh, this was going very well. Maybe she was wrong to
try and talk about this. Maybe they did better just
letting it happen. She stood to clear the dishes away.
He put his hand over hers to stop her. "Leave those."
"I'll just have to do them later," she pointed out.
"It's nice not to eat out of containers once in a while,
but that means there's clean up to be done after. It's
part of the trade-off." She continued clearing the table.
Reluctantly, Mulder got up to help. He didn't object to
doing the dishes as such, but it was a mood-spoiler to
keep having these domestic interruptions. If there was
a mood to spoil.
On the other hand, Scully with her hands trapped in the
sudsy water was a vulnerable target. He stacked the plates
on the counter and put his arms around her waist, leaning
his head on her shoulder and kissing her cheek. He slid his
hands up her sides and then down her arms, covering her
hands in the dishwater. "Need a little help?" he murmured
in her ear.
"I have the feeling if I say yes, it'll take twice as
long," she said, tilting her head to one side so he could
rub his cheek along her neck. The roughness of his evening
stubble against her tender skin gave her chills.
"But you'll enjoy it more," he said, kissing her just below
the ear.
"Mmmm," she said non-committally, but she didn't pull her
hands away. Instead, she pressed back against him,
startling him. He hissed softly into her ear and she
smiled.
Together they washed the dishes, though Mulder was more
hindrance than help. He did make doing the dishes a lot
more fun than usual. His hands sliding over hers in the
warm water and his body pressed up against hers made her
blood hum with anticipation.
Scully took pity on him and let the dishes sit in the
drainer rather than drying them. She let Mulder lead
her into the living room.
There didn't seem to be any kind of a plan being followed
here, but Scully liked to know where she was going and
what was expected of her. Before Mulder could settle in,
she asked, "Was there a particular reason you wanted to
come over tonight, Mulder?"
Mulder was nonplused. He'd thought he'd made his agenda
pretty clear so far, and Scully had seemed okay with it.
"Do I need one?" he asked, a little worried that he'd
missed a signal somewhere.
"No, just checking before -- well, just checking," she
said. She wasn't trying to hurt Mulder's feelings, but
she seemed to keep doing it.
Now it seemed they were both confused about what was
going on. "I promised not to investigate anything
without you," he said, "so I don't have any new case
to spring on you or anything. Were you expecting that?"
"I wasn't sure," she said. "When you called earlier,
you said you wanted to show me something, so I thought --"
"Maybe all I want to show you is a good time," he said.
"I didn't want to go into any details over the phone,
but I figured --"
They both stared at each other. Then they both smiled,
and Scully giggled. "This is crazy," she said.
Mulder grinned. "Guess we're not very good at figuring
this out, are we?"
"Well, it's a work night, it's no special holiday or
anything, and we've spent so much time together going
over cases and --"
"Are you sorry we didn't do anything for Valentine's
Day?" he asked suddenly. "I mean, I didn't think you
cared about stuff like that."
"I don't, Mulder. I really don't. It's okay," she
reassured him. She sat on the sofa and gestured for
him to sit next to her. "I think we're still trying
to figure out this part of our lives," she said. "I
don't need an official holiday to know how I feel about
you, or to tell you. It is a convenient shorthand,
though. If you'd invited yourself over on Valentine's
Day, I might have assumed that it was for more than
work. But right now, I -- it's hard for me to figure
it out. I want you all the time, but there are times
when I'm not sure I should, um, say so."
For a moment, all Mulder heard was, "I want you all
the time." He let that soak in, closing his eyes
briefly and smiling to himself. Scully watched him.
Had she ever told him that before? Not in so many
words, perhaps. Maybe she should do something about
that.
"Scully, you can say that to me any time, any hour of
the day," he uncannily echoed her thoughts. "It's the
same for me. We have to learn how to deal with it,
though. I don't want you to not say it because you
think the timing's not right. I think we've spent too
much time worrying about that. And I sure as hell don't
want to wait for some official holiday to let you know
how I feel about you. So I'm declaring this our holiday.
Today is the day I get to tell you and show you how I
feel. No flowers, no candy, no special card. Just a
little time to be ourselves together. Let that be my
Valentine's gift to you. Or early birthday. Whatever
you want to call it."
Mulder never ceased to amaze her. She loved the way
his mind worked. All the same, she couldn't resist
teasing him a little. "Does that mean we only get one
day a year?" she asked, her lips quirking as she tried
not to smile.
"I think we can declare our own holidays whenever we
want," he said. "I'm declaring this one `Scully Day.'
You can declare a `Mulder Day' any time."
"That's what I like," she murmured. "A moveable feast."
"Just don't move too far out of range," he said. He
cupped her face in his hands and kissed the corners of
her mouth. Then he just hovered over her lips. He
whispered to her, letting his lips barely brush hers
as he spoke words she couldn't hear but could feel against
her lips, and in her very soul.
With one last lingering caress of her lips, he turned
to settle her against his side, one arm around her
shoulders. With his other hand, he picked up hers and
brought it to his lips.
Scully tried to turn more fully to him. She reached to
caress his face, trying to turn him toward her for another
kiss. Mulder stayed her hand with his.
"Just relax, enjoy the ride," he admonished her gently.
"This is where we stop the car for a while, okay? My
turn to drive."
Scully opened her mouth to point out the mixed metaphor,
and Mulder leaned forward to cup the back of her head,
placing a soft kiss on her forehead.
"I love your mind, Scully. You know I do. But just let
yourself feel this. That's part of stopping the car,
you know," he murmured, placing tiny kisses along her
hairline.
He watched while Scully processed his request and wondered
if he was right to ask her for this. Sensual enjoyment
was tied to the imagination -- and he did love her mind.
He didn't want some lifeless doll in his arms, and he
hoped she realized that.
She cast her eyes down for a moment. He allowed his
fingers to tickle the back of her neck lightly. Her
breathing was in counterpoint to his own, exhaling as
he inhaled. Then her breaths fell into rhythm with his,
slow and even. She raised her head and looked into his
eyes, and he saw himself reflected there. She closed her
eyes slowly and opened them again, a slow-motion blink but
also an affirmation. She got it -- he'd known she would.
She smiled slowly, letting the tip of her tongue moisten
her lips. Oh, how he wanted to pull her tight against
him and feel those luscious lips against his own. But
that would come in good time. He was going to take the
scenic route. He'd make sure they both enjoyed every
minute of it.
"Just--" he kissed her fingertips, "let me --" now he
kissed the back of her hand, "show you --" now turning
her hand over and kissing the inside of her wrist.
His long fingers grasped hers, gently massaging them as
he bared her arm to the elbow, pushing the loose sleeve
of her sweatshirt as far up as it would go. His lips
traveled from her wrist up her inner arm to pause over
the inside of her elbow. He touched the tender skin
there with just the tip of his tongue, then gently pressed
his lips against the soft inner fold.
Scully didn't even try to suppress the quiver and sigh
that his touch drew from her. She trembled again when
she felt him breathe a puff of air across skin dampened
by his kisses.
Mulder watched the chill bumps form and the fine hairs
of Scully's arm react to his subtle ministrations. There
was a lot to be said for heat and urgency, but sometimes
slow and deliberate could be fun, too. His brain was
racing and his body tightened in anticipation, but he
took deep breaths, pausing for a slow count between
touches of his lips to Scully's skin. Another inch,
another kiss, and so on, up and up.
Her skin tingled wherever Mulder had touched her. Scully
relaxed against the arm draped over her shoulders. She
closed her eyes so she could concentrate on the next
touch. She felt aware of each individual nerve ending.
She struggled to keep her breathing slow and even,
though she couldn't prevent the tremor of her pounding
heart. She felt boneless yet highly reactive -- as if
every molecule in her body was reaching out to Mulder.
He pulled the sleeve of her sweatshirt down and shifted
position to pull up her other sleeve. To Scully it
seemed so much easier to take the whole thing off, but
Mulder was determined to have it all his own way. He
concentrated first on her fingers, then the palm of her
hand, to the inside of her wrist and up to the crook of
her elbow, ending with the most sensuous kiss anyone
ever received on that part of her anatomy, Scully was
certain of it. Then he pulled her sleeve back down.
Scully let her arms drop to her sides, hoping that
Mulder's next move would be to pull the sweatshirt
off. He knelt in front of her, parting her knees
so he could get closer to her. His hands spanned
her waist, and she leaned forward to help him pull
the garment off. But no; instead, he caressed her
through the cloth, running his hands up her sides
and then over her front, across her breasts and down
her abdomen, his hands coming to rest on her thighs.
He let his hands stay there. She waited for his
next move.
She would not squirm. She could be patient. His
eyes met hers. Somehow, he was managing to keep his
breathing even, while hers had become ragged. She
kept her hands from grabbing for him by sheer force
of will.
He must have noticed that, for he moved to take her
hands in his and kiss each one in turn before leaning
forward to at last grasp the hem of her sweatshirt and
pull it over her head.
"Oh, Scully," he breathed. Scully looked down and
realized she'd forgotten all about the camisole set
she'd put on earlier.
She smiled a cat-with-cream sort of smile. "Maybe
it's Mulder Day after all," she said.
"If this is the official Mulder Day uniform, I'm all
for it," he said.
She looked magnificent, lying against the back of
the sofa, her hair in disarray and her lips slightly
parted. She gave him a sultry, heavy-lidded look and
her tongue darted out to lick her lips. He let his
gaze travel further down. One thin strap of the camisole
had dropped from her shoulder, revealing the upper slope
of her breast. The sheerness of the silk only served
to emphasize the creamy paleness of her skin. Another
pale ribbon of flesh showed between the bottom of the
camisole and the top of her sweatpants. Suddenly he
really, really wanted to know what was under those
sweatpants.
He stood, reaching for her hands to pull her up too,
but she stopped him. "I want to see you, too," she
whispered. She ran his hands over his sweater, down
his chest to the hem. She burrowed her hands under
it, and instead of pulling it off all at once, she
inched it up his torso, letting her fingers play over
his warm skin. She got the sweater as far as his
chest and slid her hands back down to his waist. She
repeated the journey, letting her hands get almost to
his underarms, tickling the flesh just below.
Now it was Mulder's turn to have trouble breathing.
He managed to stay still but swore to himself that
if Scully didn't stop teasing him soon, he'd have to
take steps. He just wasn't able to think clearly
about what those steps should be.
At last she let him raise his arms and she pulled
the sweater off. But she wasn't through with him
yet; she took a few moments to look at him the way
he'd looked at her. He'd never had anyone look at
him like that before. Was this how Scully felt when
he looked at her? All hot and cold at the same time
-- self-conscious but somehow proud to see the
admiration in her gaze? Longing for her touch but
wanting to delay it too?
Did his gaze make her as hot as he was right now?
He was as hard as stone. Only one way to find out...
...and then, she reached out and put her hands on
his chest, brushing her fingers over his nipples.
He just about jumped out of his skin. His whole
body jerked to attention.
Scully looked pleased, like a theory she'd had was
just proved beyond a doubt.
He'd show her. "C'mere," he said, and was successful
in pulling her to her feet. He held her by her
shoulders, aimed for her mouth with his, and at the
last minute veered off to kiss her jaw. She moved
her head, trying to zero in on his mouth, but he was
too quick for her, landing kisses everywhere but
where she expected. He got around behind her, kissing
along her shoulder blades and kneeling to trail his
kisses down the middle of her back, watching her flesh
shiver as he touched her. She craned her neck around
to try and see what he was doing and he reached up
to cup her silk-covered breasts. She stilled instantly,
sucking in her breath.
He stayed still with her for a moment. Slowly,
hesitantly, she covered his hands with hers,
encouraging him to touch her. He pressed his
cheek against her back and closed his eyes while
he touched her. His fingers found her nipples
and they reacted instantly to his touch. Scully's
soft moan went straight to his groin.
After a while he slid his hands down to the waistband
of her sweats, pulling the drawstring loose and
letting them fall away to reveal the panties that
matched her camisole.
"Oh Scully," he breathed against her skin, "I think
this really *is* Mulder Day. I even have a present
to unwrap." He placed a kiss on the small of her back.
"But you have to let me finish unwrapping *my* gift
first," Scully said, turning in his grasp. She
caressed his hair, looking down at him in a way
that staggered him. Desire, dark and smoky, colored
her gaze. She licked her lips, sending another shot
of fire through his veins.
He didn't generally give much thought to what he
wore, but he wished fleetingly that he'd worn
something other than boring old boxer briefs for
Scully to feast her eyes on.
Scully knelt before him and unbuttoned his jeans.
She grasped the waistband and pulled them down,
taking his briefs with them. His cock sprang free.
So much for dressing up for Scully, he thought wildly.
Guess she really isn't one for hearts and flowers.
She smiled wickedly up at him and pursed her delectable
lips. He tensed in anticipation of her next move. Don't
let me lose it, he thought desperately.
Scully took a deep breath and blew a gentle stream of
air over his shaft, which rose that much higher. He
couldn't keep his hips from pushing forward.
She leaned forward, closer and closer...
"Don't, Scully," he said quickly, putting out his hand.
She rocked back on her heels. "You sure?" she said
mischievously.
Mulder sat rather suddenly on the sofa, feeling foolish
with his pants bunched around his shoes. He bent to
take them off, pulling his pants the rest of the way
off with them. Scully sat in front of him expectantly,
waiting for his answer. His cock twitched hopefully.
"Maybe I need my head examined, but yeah," he said
regretfully. "This is supposed to be about both of
us, right? So, even Steven, Scully. My turn. And
besides, I don't wanna end up on the hard floor when
I know there's a nice, soft bed in the next room." He
held out his hand to pull Scully to her feet.
Scully let him lead her into the bedroom. She'd spent
her time waiting for Mulder wisely. The bed was turned
down, and the bedside lamp was on its lowest setting.
Mulder drew her into his arms. He held her close,
circling her back and shoulders with his arms. She
laid her head against his chest over his heart. She
could feel the heat where their bodies touched, all
the different textures that were Mulder. Her arms
went around his waist, hugging him closer. She raised
her head to him, parting her lips in invitation.
He lowered his head to hers and kissed one eyebrow,
then the other. He kissed her nose, and Scully couldn't
help but giggle.
Mulder pulled back slightly and looked at her. "What's
so funny?"
She smiled and shook her head. "Not funny," she said.
"Not ha-ha funny, anyway."
Mulder just looked at her.
"Kiss me," she requested, and he smiled down at her.
"That's what I'm doin'," he said, kissing her temple
to illustrate.
She took her hand from his waist and touched his lips
with her forefinger, and then hers.
He smiled again. "I'm getting there," he said. "Just
saving the best for last."
His hands explored her body as he bent to capture an
earlobe with his lips and she was lost. She let her
hands roam over him as well, drawing a finger down his
spine and stoking his muscular behind. She felt his body
begin to push against hers as his kisses became more
insistent. He lightly bit her shoulder and licked her
neck. He suckled her earlobes and traced her hairline
and jaw. She breathed encouragement to him and pulled
his body tight against hers.
They sank together onto the bed, hands everywhere at
once. Mulder pulled Scully's camisole over her head,
and then his mouth and hands were on her breasts. She
fell back onto the sheets, drowning in Mulder's sea of
kisses and touches. She found her body moving in time
with his, though they were at the moment only connected
by their mouths and hands. She turned toward him,
desperate to be closer, to feel all of him against
her again.
She blindly reached out and encountered his hands.
He grasped her fingers and guided them to his cock,
hot and pulsing and alive. She felt and heard his
breath expel in a deep sigh. His hand returned to
her breast. His mouth moved up, up, to the hollow
of her throat and along her collarbone, stopping to
nip at her neck and earlobe before following the edge
of her jaw to the corner of her mouth and then tracing
her lips with his tongue, opening his mouth to cover
hers, suckling first upper and then lower lip. She
parted her lips and teased his tongue with hers, trying
to lure him on. His hands skimmed down her body lower
and lower, finding the waist of her panties as he
finally stopped teasing her lips and let his tongue
accept her invitation to explore.
She arched toward him, raising up enough for him to
pull her panties down and wriggling to help him get
them off and out of the way. She wanted nothing between
them now, and as he pulled her leg to wrap around his
she sighed with satisfaction. He reached between them,
still holding her mouth captive with his own as he helped
her guide his cock into her.
He thought he would explode right then. He felt Scully's
gasp into his mouth all the way down to his toes. He
felt the ripple of her body gripping him, surrounding
him, even more deeply. He took his mouth from hers
long enough to draw his breath, raised himself up,
and plunged back into her, body and soul.
It was not their first time together, but it still
felt new. Could she have forgotten so quickly what
it felt like to welcome him into her body? Or was it
just that her memory couldn't quite hold an emotion
so overwhelming? How could she have thought that this
changed nothing between them? Oh, I love you so much,
she thought, matching him kiss for kiss, thrust for
thrust.
Mulder felt rather than heard Scully whispering against
his mouth between fervent kisses. Her hands caressed
him and urged him on, and he gave himself over to the
moment, to doing nothing but letting himself feel. They
were in perfect concert with one another. He felt her
fingers tap along his spine, up and down, and then press
against the small of his back. He felt the ripple of
his release begin and made himself slow, hoping to prolong
it enough to make sure Scully came along for the ride.
She was already waiting for him. The ripple became a
floodtide and he heard himself groan as his movements
went from measured to frenzied and then slowed to
exhaustion. He had enough presence of mind not to
collapse fully on Scully before his arms and legs
turned to jelly.
She clung to him like a limpet, her legs wrapped around
him and her hips pressed to his. He rolled to his side
and took her with him. Her eyes were shut, and her
breathing was still rapid. He kissed her eyelids.
"Scully? You there?"
"Nuh," she said, and snuggled into his arms.
The air was chill on their sweaty bodies and he did
his best to pull the bedcoverings over them. He
kissed her mouth softly, and he felt it move into a
smile under his lips. "You okay?"
"Yuh uh," she said.
This was one for the diary. He'd evidently robbed
Scully of the power of speech. He grinned into her
hair and patted her softly. "Gotta move a little. We
might get stuck this way."
She opened one eye and began to giggle. He felt the
ripple from deep inside her body. He was too spent for
it to have much effect on him, but it felt nice all the
same.
They managed to arrange themselves a little more
comfortably. Mulder found the glass of water Scully
had thoughtfully set on the nightstand and shared it
with her. He liked this part almost as much as making
love. He liked thinking about it.
"I'm almost glad I was late tonight," he said. "It
gave me some time to think."
Scully roused a little at that. "What about?"
"This. You. Us," he said, punctuating each word with
a kiss. "I mean, I'd rather be with you, but the next
best thing is thinking about you. It's nice to have
something real to think about."
Scully smiled and stroked his face softly, leaning in
for a soft kiss.
"I never would have pegged you for a romantic," she said.
"I don't think I was before now," he said. "Not that
I'm gonna start suddenly liking `Steel Magnolias' or
anything, but...I dunno. Maybe I'm just full of shit."
"No, you're not," Scully said. "This is weird for me,
too. But in a good way."
"Yeah," he said. "That about covers it, I think. So,
Scully, when's our next holiday?"
"I've got a birthday coming up," she said. "Does that
count?"
"More than I can ever express," he said, "But I was
thinking more along the lines of tomorrow. We could
call in scared."
"Scared? What do you mean?"
"You know, call Skinner and say, `I'm afraid I can't come
in today,'"
Scully groaned. "I can't believe I fell for that."
"I guess I just blinded you with my charm, huh?"
"Sure Mulder, whatever you say."
"Really? Whatever I say?" He raised his eyebrows.
"That's too good an opportunity to pass up."
"I meant that figuratively."
"You're no fun, Scully."
"That's not what you said before," she said.
He grinned and gathered her into his arms.
x-x-x-x
Scully woke to the sound of Mulder's voice, but he
wasn't talking to her.
"Yes, sir," he said. "I'll tell her you said so."
He listened, then said, "It's not pretty, sir. I'm
afraid neither of us will be fit for duty before
tomorrow." He listened some more. "Thank you, sir.
I'll keep you informed."
By the time Mulder was off the phone, Scully was wide
awake and sitting up in bed. "What did you tell
Skinner?" she asked.
"That I thought it was something we ate," he said.
He looked pretty edible himself, standing in the
altogether with nothing but his cell phone for an
accessory.
Nonetheless, Scully tried to take a firm stance.
"Did you lie to our boss, Mulder?"
"I'd never do that. I didn't say I felt bad."
"What exactly *did* you say?"
Mulder walked over to the bed and threw himself onto
it. "That I was afraid neither of us would be in today."
Scully snorted. She wouldn't be at all surprised if
Skinner already had them figured out, but for the moment
she didn't care. She felt damn good, in fact.
"So what holiday are we celebrating today, Mulder?" she
asked as he began to kiss his way down her body.
"I dunno," he mumbled around a mouthful of her breast.
"But I'm sure something will come up."
end.
Author's note: I'm sure Mulder and Scully would never
lie and call in sick. I'm not condoning it, either