Author: FoxMuldersBitch (Petra)
Rating: R (a little sumpin sumpin but no consummation)
Category: MSR
Spoilers: all things
Summary: What happened in between the sofa and the bathroom in "all things"? I have absolutely no clue, but here is one possible idea...
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, and while somewhere there are papers that give that ownership to FOX, 1013, and their various subsidiaries, I'd rather believe that the X-files as well as these characters belong to all of the fans everywhere, and of course to David and Gilly. All hail Chris Carter. Please don't sue me, I couldn't help myself...
Archive: Whatever...
Credits: Thanks to my two betas Elisabeta and Carolyn! They kick ass!
All Things Considered
Dana Scully awoke slowly, her senses flooding her body and making her languidly aware of the world. She had been having that dream again, and as always the dream had seemed more real than her waking hours sometimes did. She pushed the images and sounds from this dream to the back of her mind as she always did upon awakening from it, having realized long ago that it was better not to dwell on things that she could not have.
Slowly Scully realized that she was not at home in her comfy silk pajamas. She was instead, propped up in a sitting position, fully dressed, including panty hose (which incidentally were riding up most unpleasantly), and covered by a blanket. The room was dark, and she remembered falling asleep by Mulder's side on his sofa. Even if she had not remembered falling asleep here, she would have instantly recognized Mulder's apartment by the scent that permeated everything, everything that was so distinctly Mulder. It was a mixture of so many things: Mulder's soap, his gentle cologne, even the leather of his couch, but underlying it was something basic and unnameable.
She got up, slowly stretching her protesting limbs, and turned on the light. She glanced at her watch and saw that it was four minutes past midnight. She suddenly wondered how Daniel and Maggie were, and if they had taken the first steps toward resolution of the pain that was in Maggie's heart - pain that was mostly Scully's fault. She had never meant things to get so complicated all that time ago, but they had. Scully, who hated to see anyone in pain, now hoped that even in her emotionally awkward way, she had helped to begin assuaging the pain that she had caused. She had gone so far as to take Maggie's number, and while she wasn't quite comfortable enough to call her now, maybe some day in the future she would be able to, if only to find out if things were well with her. Someday, when her own pain over Daniel, which had come back suddenly and fresh, was tempered with time.
She heard Mulder's bed squeak as he moved, and thought about how everything in her life had led her to him and kept her by his side. Even when she had not been sure that by his side was where she was supposed to be. Deep down though, she had always been sure; it had only been her professional, scientific front that had ever been confused, her heart had always known.
She picked up the two mugs from which she and Mulder had drunk tea and brought them to the kitchen. She put them in the sink, which was filled with other dishes, and then turned the water on softly, so as not to wake Mulder. She could not decide whether to go home, or whether to sleep by Mulder's side as she had done twice before. The first time had been when Donnie
Phaster had come back and almost killed her, and then again when Mulder's mother had committed suicide. It had always been strictly platonic, a way for two people who cared a great deal for each other to find comfort. But, as the dream that she had just awakened from furtively slipped back into her consciousness, she thought that maybe tonight it might not be such a good idea. She didn't feel very platonic.
"Doing my dishes now, Scully?" Scully jumped from the sound of Mulder's voice in the doorway of the kitchen.
"Well, someone has to," Scully said with a grin that Mulder could not see, but which was evident in her voice, "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you, Mulder." Scully said, putting a plate in the dish rack to dry. She turned and leaned her back up against the sink, as Mulder leaned against the doorjamb, they both crossed their arms.
"That's OK. I wasn't sleeping," Mulder said. "I got a little thirsty and then I noticed that the light was on, and then I remembered that I didn't have anything to drink."
"Ah, the bachelor life," Scully said, looking at the floor, but still smiling. Mulder was wearing only his pajama pants, and no shirt. Scully was finding it quite difficult to talk and not look at his chest at the same time.
As if reading her thoughts Mulder said, "I should have put on a shirt..."
"No, no. I'm on my way home, anyway. I can't believe I fell asleep on your couch." She looked up at him now, telling herself that she had seen Mulder's chest many, many times, and that this time should be no different. That damn dream.
"Well, you had a busy past few days."
"Yeah, I did, and we have to go into the office tomorrow, so I should go," Scully said as she walked past him back into the living room.
"You don't have to. I mean, you can if you want to, but you don't have to." Mulder was no fool, and he had realized earlier that night as he sat next to Scully on the sofa, feigning coolness and drinking tea that she had prepared for him, that he had been quite close to losing her to this Daniel Waterston, a man that he had never even met. He had not been sleeping because the thought of that, and how completely out of his hands it had been, was driving him crazy. "I wouldn't mind some company," he finished as Scully remained silent. She tilted her head, as if considering his invitation.
"You know what, Mulder? I just might take you up on that. I really don't feel like driving home right now."
"And, I won't steal the covers this time. I promise," Mulder said with a grin, crossing his heart.
"You'd better not. I'm going to get a drink of water and I'll be in in a bit. OK, Mulder?"
"OK, Scully." Mulder walked back into his bedroom, quickly tossing the pile of clothes that was on the foot of his bed onto the floor. He had been lying with both pillows under his head and now he put one on the other side of the bed. After the first time that he and Scully had slept in the same bed, he had continually found himself reaching for her in the night. He was not the sort of man who liked to share his bed, but Scully seemed to defy that rule as she had most others that he had subconsciously made about women. While that had always scared him, he changed in response to her with such ease, that neither of them even realized that a change had taken place. It made him feel less abnormal, less spooky. Just as everything in her life had led her to him, everything in his life had led him to her.
Scully walked into the room, glancing amused at the pencils sticking out of the ceiling; evidently this was not something that he only did at the office. "Do you have a T-shirt or something that I could change into?" Scully asked as Mulder followed her glance and winced slightly at the sight of the pencils.
"Yeah, um, I just did laundry." He walked over to his dresser and after a bit of rummaging, pulled out a T-shirt with the words "Just because you're paranoid, don't mean they're not after you." Above this inscription was a picture of a grassy knoll. Mulder said sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders, "Langly gave this to me. He thought I would get a kick out of it."
"Do you Mulder?" Scully asked.
"Actually, yeah," Mulder said as he tossed it to her. Scully caught it effortlessly, took off her jacket, laying it on the foot of the bed, and then walking toward the bathroom. She closed the door softly behind her and began to undress. From the other room, she could hear that Mulder had turned on the television and was flipping through the channels. Her mind began to wander and the images of her dream began to take over her thoughts again.
His lips always knew exactly where to go to make her sigh and then moan, and this time was no different. His hands were in her hair, keeping her mouth pressed against his, his insistent tongue exploring the inside of her mouth.
She sighed and then moaned, and he chuckled against her lips, delighting in her response. They were lying on his bed, their bodies pressed together, and he slowly ran his hands under her silky smooth shirt, softly stroking her back.
"You like that, don't you, Dana?" He said, his words muffled by her mouth.
"You know I do, Mulder."
"Tell me how much you like it."
"So much."
He pulled her under him now so that he was looming over her, balanced on his elbows. Their eyes were locked and Scully's breath caught in her throat. "If only you knew how much I lov-" Mulder began.
"Shh. Just kiss me Mulder. Just kiss me." And he did, and he kissed her again and again, his hands running all over her body, their gasps and moans intermingling until neither knew whose was whose. Their pace was slow at first and then quicker, more frenzied as their arousal mounted. They both wanted more, so much more, but neither could take that next step.
And then Scully reached down between their two bodies and began to unbutton her shirt.
Mulder put his hands over hers and whispered "No, let me." The pace was slow again as he teased her with the brushing of his fingers over her bare stomach as he unbuttoned each button. When it was finally open, Scully pulled it off quickly, grabbing for his head to kiss her again.
"You like to be teased, don't you Dana?" Mulder said, putting his hand into the cup of her bra, fondling her breast as Scully gasped lifting her head to his mouth. He stayed out of her reach though, teasing her more, making her want to kiss him more than anything.
"Mulder . . . " Scully warned.
"Yes?"
"Mulder . . . " Scully said desperately now.
"Tell me what you want. Just say it," Mulder said, breathless as Scully's hand reached down and grasped his cock.
"You. I want you. Everywhere. I want to wake up tomorrow with your smell on my hands and your taste in my mouth. I want to forget that anything else exists. Help me . . . " Scully said, almost begging.
"Anything for you. Anything," Mulder said, as he began to kiss her again.
"You OK in there Scully?" Mulder's voice from the other room suddenly brought her out of her reverie and she blushed bright red. Looking into the mirror above the sink, Scully silently admonished herself.
"Get a grip." She said softly to herself and then louder. "Yeah, I'm fine Mulder. I'll be right out." She ran her fingers through her hair and waited until her face wasn't so damn flushed and then went into Mulder's bedroom, leaving her clothes in the bathroom.
"I thought maybe you had drowned in there. That would have made personal appearance #3 in the X-files," Mulder said. He was lying with his arm under his head, his body under the covers. He looked like a man ready for some hot love-making and Scully prayed that her face didn't flush again at the thought. He was watching an old black and white movie on TV. "I'll turn this off."
"No, if you don't mind, leave it on. I used to love falling asleep to the TV," Scully said as she walked over to the bed and slid under the covers.
"A woman after my own heart," Mulder said, grinning and looking at her from his side of the bed. He reached over and turned off the lamp, plunging the room into semi-darkness, the only light now coming from the TV.
Mulder had watched her emerge from the bathroom, clad only in his T-shirt, the end of it falling below her knees, and his heart had clenched (as well as other parts of him). It was as if they were a married couple and she had put on his shirt after a night of making love. Never before had he wished something were so true. All things considered, he had known her for more than seven years, and had loved her for the better part of that time, and had needed her always from the moment that they had met. Just having her by his side, the heat from her body mingling with the heat from his, was a gift. He was not a man prone to fanciful thoughts or romantic notions, but she had changed him in that way as well.
"So what are we watching, Mulder?" Scully asked, breaking into his thoughts.
"I'm not sure. Shirley Temple is in it though," Mulder said.
"You, a closet Shirley Temple fan? I never would have guessed, Mulder," Scully teased, fidgeting with her pillow.
"Why not?" Mulder asked, faking indignation.
"Well, it just doesn't seem to jibe with your other, uh, video tastes." Scully said, the smile in her voice, making Mulder smile as well.
"Are you implying that a pervert, such as myself, can't find the joy and happiness in a little girl singing and dancing? That, in fact, just because I am a connoisseur-," at this Scully laughed, Mulder continued, "-that just because I am a connoisseur of adult erotica I am too jaded to see the beauty in any other type of film?"
Scully turned on her side to look at him as she talked. "No, I was just saying that porn and Shirley Temple don't usually mix . . . unless you're even more of a pervert that I thought." There was a short silence and then Mulder began to chuckle, his face breaking out into a glorious smile.
"I can't believe you think I'm a pervert, Scully."
"What magazines do you subscribe to, Mulder?" Scully randomly asked.
Mulder paused and then said humorously; "That is none of your business, Scully."
Scully yawned, nestled into the bed, and said contentedly; "Then I rest my case."
"You have completely ruined this movie for me now. I'm turning it off."
"Fine, whatever," Scully said, the satisfaction in her voice apparent.
Mulder felt around for the remote and pushed the power button, plunging the room into complete darkness.
"Good night Scully."
"G'night Mulder. Thanks for listening to me talk earlier."
"Thanks for talking to me."
"You're welcome."
There was a short silence. And then from the darkness, Mulder said, "I love you, Scully."
There was a longer silence and Mulder feared that like the last time he had ventured to say these three words to Scully, she would take it as a joke, as a manifestation of something other than real feeling.
"I love you too, Mulder." Scully's reply came soft but serious from the darkness. She was on the edge of sleep, and she could already feel the dream pushing its way into her mind, and dream Mulder's lips on hers.
She awoke at five in the morning, the darkness having abated slightly, but the sun still drowsy and taking its time to wake up the world. Mulder had not only succeeded in stealing the covers, but in kicking off his pajama pants at some point as well. She was used to his restless sleeping though, even after only two other experiences in the same bed with him. One leg was sticking completely out of the blanket, and Scully smiled. Her dream had been different last night. She always woke up before she and dream Mulder could get past the initial stages of making love, but last night they had finally . . . Scully blushed at the memory. All things considered, that must mean something.
She quietly got out of Mulder's bed, paying careful attention to not waking him, and went into the bathroom to change back into the clothes that she had worn yesterday. Her pantyhose had a horrible run in them, so she threw them in Mulder's wastebasket. As she zipped up her skirt and then ran her fingers through her hair, she thought that maybe a jog would be nice this morning. Release some pent-up tension.
She walked out of the bathroom, grabbed her jacket that was still on the foot of the bed, and as she put it on, she remembered that she had told Mulder last night that she loved him, and that he had said it as well. And she did love him with her whole heart, and the admission to him had made it more true to herself, and she hoped that this was a step closer to the elusive beauty of her dreams. She looked at his sleeping body, the hint of a smile on her lips, and then walked out of the room.