feedback: msnsc21[at]yahoo.com
7/13/02
Email: msnsc21@aol.com
Feedback: always welcome
Distribution: Ephemeral, Gossamer, Enigmatic Dr., or if you've
archived me before, yes; if you haven't, please just let me
know and leave headers, email addy, etc. attached. Thanks!
Spoilers: None
Rating: NC-17
Classification: Vignette
Keywords: MSR, PWP
Summary: See title.
Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine. They mostly belong
to the actors who portray them, 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.
=====
Too Darn Hot
by ML
The darkness was a palpable thing, close and smothering,
taking Mulder's breath away. He lay as still as possible
on top of the covers, nothing on but his boxers, which were
already damp around the waistband. He'd showered only moments
before, but his hair already felt dry. He could tell it was
sticking every which way from his scalp. Probably trying to
get away from his skin. He knew the feeling. He could feel
the beads of sweat forming and trickling down his body. He
felt fevered, though he knew it was just the heat.
Mulder sighed and sat up, running a hand over his face and
through his hair. He didn't waste his time glaring at the
plywood panel under the window where the air conditioner
should be. He'd gallantly taken this room, one of the only
two the motel had available, because the other room still had
an air conditioner installed. They'd found out later that it
might as well be gone too, for all the good it did them. It
spewed out hot air, and Scully had finally given up on it.
She'd opened the bathroom window a sliver and shrugged her
shoulders. "We've stayed in worse places, Mulder," she said
gamely. Any hopes Mulder had of Scully offering to let him
stay in her room vanished along with the hope of cooler air.
Time was he wouldn't have cared. It used to be when in the
field, he'd barely be aware of his surroundings. His focus
was always on the case, and as long as he had a place to get
his two hours or so of sleep, and a TV to while away the rest
of the time, anywhere was fine. However, he'd recently become
more aware of the limitations of the usual FBI-approved lodgings.
The reason was sleeping (at least he hoped she was sleeping) in
the room next door.
He flicked on the TV, hoping that maybe he'd find a documentary
on the North Pole or "Ice Station Zebra" or something that would
make him feel cooler. A few seconds of fruitless surfing told
him that the only snow he'd be seeing on this TV was static.
He sighed. If there was any place else to stay within a
reasonable driving distance, he'd be in the car with Scully
now, heading for it. Unfortunately, by the time they got there,
they'd just have to turn around and come back.
Maybe he'd go for a run. Maybe it was cooler outside by now.
He pulled on his shorts and opened his door. The air felt about
the same outside as it had before the sun went down, maybe a
couple of degrees cooler. He guessed it was still about ninety
degrees, and it was close to ten-thirty PM.
Running was out, then. He glanced over at the pool, hoping
against hope that it had miraculously filled with water since
they'd arrived. But no, it was still a big hole in the ground
filled with nothing but air. Hot air.
"They have no business taking customers like this," he groused
out loud to no one but himself. The motel was in the midst of
a remodel, a little detail left unsaid when they'd made the
reservation. He and Scully had the only two rooms that were
habitable. He had to admit that they were more nicely furnished
than some places they'd stayed. Even the bathrooms weren't half
bad. But the heat canceled everything else out.
"This isn't usual," the proprietor had said when they checked
in. "It's about ten, maybe twenty degrees hotter than it
normally is this time of year. It never lasts more than a
day or two. And it always cools off at night."
Mulder didn't think he'd heard so many lies at once since the
last conversation he'd had with Smoking Man.
He hoped that Scully was able to sleep, at least. Maybe she
wasn't feeling the heat as badly as he was. She'd probably
taken a long cool bath, put on her pajamas, and fallen asleep
immediately. Well, good for her.
But what if she'd fallen asleep in the bath? She might drown.
He'd better go check on her, just to be sure.
Cautiously he opened the door between their rooms. Silence
greeted him on the other side. He stood and listened a moment
and turned to go back into his room when a soft voice stopped
him.
"Mulder, that had better be you." He couldn't see Scully, but
that was her voice from the vicinity of the bed.
"Yeah, it's me. Can't sleep either, huh?"
"It's too damn hot," came a groan.
Mulder still couldn't see her, so he moved a little closer to
the bed. "You won't get any argument from me," he said. "I'm
sorry, Scully."
"Unless you have some control over the weather I don't know
about, it's not your fault, Mulder," Scully said.
He sat down on the edge of the bed. His eyes were growing
more accustomed to the lack of light and he could see the
outline of Scully's body now.
Quite a lot of Scully, in fact. "Scully," he said softly,
and now it wasn't just the heat that made him want to pant,
"you're not wearing any clothes."
"Very observant, G-Man," she said. "It's too hot. I don't
want anything touching me."
"Then you sure ought to be wearing something, Scully," Mulder
said, which might have seemed like a non-sequitur to anyone
but Scully.
"It's nothing you haven't seen before, Mulder," she said, but
he could hear a hint of laughter in her voice.
"I wish I was doing more than seeing it," he groaned, "but
you're right, it's too hot to do anything." He flopped on
the bed, taking care not to brush against her.
Scully turned and looked at him. Her eyes gleamed faintly in
the dimness. "It really must be too hot if you're too hot for
*that*."
He raised his eyebrows, which was probably a wasted effort in
the dark. "I never said I was too hot for *that*, Scully, if
what you're referring to so obliquely is what I think you are."
"You're way too hot," she said softly, drawing one finger down
his arm. Amazingly, it made him shiver. "And I mean that in
a *good* way."
"Aw Scully," he said, and leaned forward to kiss her. For a
moment, only their lips touched gently. Mulder began to feel
a different kind of heat, and he reached out for Scully, feeling
her hand reach for him at the same moment.
They edged closer to each other, but before long rolled apart
again.
"I'm sorry, Mulder," Scully said. "It's just too hot."
"Yeah, I know," he agreed reluctantly. "It's no fun to be sticky
and sweaty before we've done anything to get that way."
They lay next to each other but the proximity to Scully wasn't
helping. He could feel the heat radiating off her body, and he
was sure she could feel his, too. It would probably be kinder
to go back to his room instead of making Scully (and himself)
feel hotter, but he didn't want to leave. He'd still be miserable,
and this way at least he had company. He lay still and tried to
think cool thoughts, but thoughts of Scully in situations where
either of them were anything but cool kept intruding.
Resolutely he tried to think cooling thoughts instead. A
waterfall, tumbling into a cool, clear pool of water. He
could almost feel the mist on his face. And Scully, naked
in his arms, floating with him in the limpid pool...
Mulder sat up suddenly.
"What's wrong?" Scully asked, sitting up herself. She hadn't
heeded his suggestion that she put some clothes on, and he could
dimly see a trickle of sweat between her breasts.
"We're both too hot, we can't sleep, but I think maybe I can
take care of that," Mulder said.
"How? Do you have a fan in your pocket?"
"Do you really want to know what I have in my pocket?" He
grinned. "Be right back," was all he said, and he went back
to his room to grab a tee shirt and his car keys.
Lucky for him he'd seen the Wal-Mart on the way into town.
He moved through the store quickly, grabbing what he needed,
adding a few additional things he hadn't thought of.
Back at the motel he carried his purchases into his room and
went out again to find the ice machine, the one thing that
seemed to be working properly at the motel. He filled two
buckets with ice and let himself into Scully's room.
"Where'd you go?" Scully asked. She'd turned on the light,
and was wearing a big tee shirt with the neck stretched out
that he recognized as his.
"Had to go get a few things," Mulder said. He went next door
and brought back a Styrofoam ice chest. "Here." He rummaged
around in it and handed her a popsicle. "Eat it before it melts."
Scully sat cross-legged on the bed and sucked on her frozen
treat. Mulder helped himself to one and stuck it in his mouth
as he set up his other purchase.
He put the fan on the dresser and plugged it in, placing one
of the buckets of ice in front of it. Immediately he could
feel the cooler air. He stood to one side so Scully could
feel it, too.
"Oh, that's so nice," she breathed.
"Glad you approve," he said. He pulled something else out of
the ice chest and held it behind his back. "Close your eyes,"
he said.
Scully raised an eyebrow at him but did as he asked.
He uncapped an atomizer of spring water and sprayed it gently
on her face. She lifted her head up toward the coolness and
sighed happily. "You really know how to show a girl a good
time, Mulder," she said.
"I haven't even gotten started yet, Scully," he said. He popped
an ice cube in his mouth. "Lie down," he said indistinctly
around the cube.
Once again, Scully did as he asked without comment, though the
eyebrow got another workout. He lay beside her again, and
pressed his lips against her cheek. "Ooh," was all she said
in response to the cold slippery pressure. He placed kisses
all over her face, the ice cube melting as he did so, leaving
a cool trail wherever he touched her. She wriggled and made
soft, satisfied sounds.
He ended at her mouth. The ice had melted, but his mouth and
lips were still cool. Scully was sweet and sticky from the
popsicle, and he tasted her eagerly. He reached for another
ice cube, popping it into his mouth as he began to kiss her
again. They traded the ice cube back and forth until it
melted. Water dribbled out of the corners of their mouths
and made a cool trail on hot skin.
"How's that?" he murmured, savoring the lingering coolness
of her lips.
"Hmmm, nice," she said. "Cooler."
"Good," he said, and tugged on her hand to come sit in front
of the slowly oscillating fan. He stripped and lay on the end
of the bed, feet flat on the floor. Scully found the water
atomizer and tried it on him. It dried as soon as it hit his
skin, but he did feel a little cooler. "Oh yeah, Scully," he
said. "Give it to me."
Scully snorted. "This is beginning to sound like a porn film,
Mulder," she remarked.
Mulder opened one eye. "How would you know, Agent Scully?"
"Research, Agent Mulder. Purely research." She grinned and
started to spray him again but he grabbed the can out of her
hand.
"My turn again," he said. He coaxed her out of her shirt and
played the spray over her skin. He sprayed her breasts and
watched them react to the cool stimulus. Scully shivered with
pleasure.
He lay beside her. He picked up another ice cube, but Scully
stopped him. "You're not rubbing that on me, Mulder," she said.
"Ooh, Scully. You *are* talking about the ice cube, right?" he
smirked. "I wouldn't dream of it. Just watch me." He popped it
into his mouth and began a slow trail down her body, gliding his
lips and tongue between her breasts and over them, over her
ribcage and around her belly button. He never let an ice cube
touch her directly, but placed damp kisses everywhere, cooling
her overheated skin.
He reached the juncture of her thighs and first simply breathed
cool air over her trembling flesh. She reacted very favorably,
and he spent some minutes doing that and alternately using his
lips and fingers, seeking out her most sensitive places.
Before very long, Scully's hips bucked up once, then again,
and her legs began to tremble. He could hear her rapid
breathing as he gentled his touches. He stroked her legs
and thighs, murmuring softly as she came back to herself.
He found the atomizer and misted it over her body, and
she sighed happily.
Mulder was panting for real now: between his own rising
excitement, and Scully's obvious pleasure, he felt light-
headed, almost delirious. That would never do; he still
had a few things up his figurative sleeve.
He got up and took a couple of bottles of water out of
the ice chest, handing one to Scully, looking over her
flushed face and body with a pleased grin. He rolled his
own bottle against his neck and chest before opening it
and draining it in a few gulps.
Scully took her time drinking her water and Mulder sat
cross-legged at the end of the bed, watching her watch
him. He knew she could see his arousal. He wasn't used
to her open appreciation of him. He hardly expected it,
even now.
Scully reached out her hand to him, inviting him to lie
down beside her once more. But as much as he wanted to
make love with her, he didn't want to smother her, and he
didn't want either of them to die of heat stroke. It was
so much better when they both enjoyed the experience.
"No," he said, "I've got a better idea. Come here." He
pulled her down the bed to sit facing him in front of the
fan, her legs on either side of him. He positioned her on
his lap, her legs now straddling his waist. He sat cross
legged, balancing Scully so that she rested against his
legs, and grasped her hips to bring her in close. She held
onto his shoulders as he slowly entered her, and hooked her
legs around his waist.
The angle felt strange at first. They'd never attempted
this before; hell, he could count on the fingers of one
hand the number of times they'd done *anything* so far.
Scully seemed to like it. She closed her eyes and rocked
against him slowly, and he saw stars. It might be strange,
but it was also very, very good.
They rocked against each other in front of the fan, letting
the cool air wash over them as their internal temperatures
reached feverish heights.
Mulder closed his eyes and imagined the fan was the sound
of waves sweeping over sand, and that the breeze was a trade
wind from somewhere. The air was hot, but only because they
were on a tropical island. After a while, they'd go back to
their cabana and have a cool shower, and fall asleep in each
other's arms under the lazy swirling of a ceiling fan.
He ran his hands down Scully's backside and pulled her up
closer as he increased his speed and shortened his thrusts.
She matched him move for move and suddenly, finally, all he
could think of was Scully. The feel of her. The sounds she
made. The exquisite pull of her body against him, around
him. He clutched her close and she did the same to him, and
somehow they fell sideways on the bed together, still joined,
lost in the sensations of flesh in flesh, skin sliding over
skin, mouths meeting and melting against each other. He
couldn't not hold Scully, couldn't not have her as close
to him as he could get her, and she was the same, pulling
him further into her, pressing her lips against his slick
skin, her hands sliding over his back.
The outside world was lost to them, and the only heat that
mattered now was what they generated between them.
When Mulder came to, he was lying face down next to Scully,
his arm flung over her bare stomach. She was asleep, her
face turned toward him. The air from the fan no longer felt
cool; all the ice in the bucket had long since melted. He
felt even stickier and sweatier than he had earlier that
evening, but now he didn't care. At least he'd done
something to deserve it.
"Hey," he whispered, trailing his fingers up and down her
stomach, "you awake?"
"I am now," Scully said, but she smiled at him.
"How do you feel?" Mulder asked.
"Hot, and sticky, but really good," Scully said. She
stretched luxuriously as Mulder watched, entranced.
They showered together under a stream of tepid water, and
barely dried off, once again lying down in front of the fan.
Mulder pulled on his shorts just long enough to fetch some
more ice to put in front of the fan.
"I never thought that sex could cool me off," Scully said,
tracing her fingers down Mulder's arm as she had when she
started this whole thing.
"Maybe it's an X-File, Scully," he said drowsily. The air
from the fan blew across his still-damp skin. He felt great,
and it wasn't just because of the cool air. He rolled over
and reached for Scully. He cupped her face in his hand and
kissed her. "We'll have to investigate some more, won't we?"
"Um hmm," she said, kissing him back. "Preferably under
climate-controlled conditions. Or maybe on a beach somewhere.
You made it sound pretty good."
It wasn't until that moment that Mulder realized that he must
have been doing more than thinking about his tropical fantasy.
Would Scully really go someplace like that with him? It was
worth asking. "Do you think we could do that sometime, Scully?"
"I think it's at least remotely plausible," she said cheekily.
"I bet you have a little vacation time saved up."
"Where would you want to go, Scully?" he asked, licking his
finger and drawing patterns on her breasts and stomach.
"As long as it's not the Bermuda Triangle," she said, squirming
away from his touch, but turning toward him at the same time.
Her eyes looked heavy as she fought to stay awake.
He reached for her hand and kissed it. "Go to sleep," he
urged. He kept hold of her hand and watched her eyes close
before letting his close too.
They fell asleep to the susurration of the fan, imagining
ocean breezes and dreaming of each other.
end.
=====
Author's notes: I blame this on the 110 and 112-degree days
we've had this week. Thanks for playing along!
Feedback is cooler than cool: msnsc21@aol.com