Spoilers: Takes place during Season 6, summer of 1999 – right at the beginning of the really noticeable sexual tension between them. Mild for "Chinga".

Author's Notes: Although I was in Mystic a good seven years after this story takes place, I could do nothing more than describe what I saw when I was there. Sue me if you feel you must for any mangling of that wonderful town I may do here. My husband and I had a fantastic anniversary trip there in 2007 and I can say nothing but good things about the area.

This is the R rated version of this story. The NC-17 version is up on my website, link in my profile.

A special thanks to Alia for continually encouraging me and making suggestions that get me back on track. I definitely couldn't have written this one without her.

.

One Time Deal
By Suzanne L. Feld
Rated R for language and adult situations

.

I

July 1999

"You know, this is getting to be a problem," Mulder said in an offhand manner.

Scully frowned over at him. "What is?"

"This... tension between us. The reason I tripped was because you took off your jacket and that skirt isn't exactly loose."

She looked down at herself. The coffee-colored skirt was from one of her older Ann Taylor suits and perhaps a little more snug than usual, and she had a white shell top tucked into it with a thin leather belt around her waist. She was not wearing her suit jacket because it was damned hot and humid in Washington in July and she'd taken it off after getting out of the car earlier. Shortly before Mulder's little 'trip' that had landed them here. "It's not exactly skintight either, and what does that have to do with anything?"

He sighed and looked over at her with guileless eyes. "Scully, do you really have no idea what you look like? Or do you think I'm a damn eunuch?"

Her dark brows went up. "I do look in the mirror every morning, Mulder. And I still have no clue what you're talking about."

"Okay, I've had enough of this beating around the bush," he said. "This maybe isn't the time or place for it, but here goes. Scully, I think we need to have sex."

She was just about to take a sip of lukewarm coffee from the Styrofoam cup in her hand and as she froze was glad that she hadn't gotten the liquid into her mouth. There was a very good chance that her nice new white top would have been ruined if she had. Raising her eyes to his with the cup only millimeters from her lips she said slowly, "What did you just say?"

He looked back at her steadily. "You heard me. We need to break this sexual tension between us. Do the horizontal mambo, bounce the bed, bump nasties, make the beast with two--"

"I got that part," she snapped, setting the coffee cup on the high metal table next to her without taking a drink and successfully hiding how her hand was trembling. "First of all, partner, why do you think we should? And what makes you think I want to be that intimate with you?"

He shrugged and then winced as it jostled his bandaged wrist, which was resting in a blue and white nylon sling that clashed with his brown and green striped tie. "You seem to be as physically attracted to me as I am to you," he said. "As for why, I already told you. I wouldn't have tripped and sprained my ankle and wrist if I hadn't been looking at your awesome ass. I can't take my eyes off of you anymore, Scully."

She stared at him, not quite believing what she was hearing as she folded her hands in her lap and not quite sure what to think about it, either. "I'm pretty sure that constitutes sexual harassment," she finally said. "In anyone's book."

"Like that's ever been a problem between us," he snorted. "If I thought you didn't like it I would stop, but you've certainly never asked me to. And you usually give as good as you get."

"Hmph." Scully didn't dignify that with an answer. She stared at her coffee cup for a time but could feel his eyes boring into her. When she glanced at him he grinned, but didn't say anything. Just as she was about to get up and walk out, the ER doctor came into the room with two X-rays in his hands.

"Good news, Mr. Mulder. No broken bones, and the ankle sprain is very mild; you should be back on both feet in a few days. It's important that it not be hyperflexed again so be sure to use the crutches until at least Thursday, and if you have the slightest twinge continue to use them until you don't. The wrist is going to take longer to heal; give it ten days or more before you start using it normally as you really stretched the tendons. I've prescribed some painkillers for you. You can pick them up at the pharmacy on the way out."

"How about work? Should I--"

"Ah, yes. Since you're right-handed and it's your left wrist, I would think a desk position should do just fine for about two weeks. You shouldn't need any time off other than a few days for your ankle to heal enough to walk comfortably on."

Mulder grimaced, and Scully did feel a moment's sympathy for him knowing how he loathed being on desk duty which usually meant backlogged paperwork, background checks, or wiretaps. But she didn't feel bad for long after what he'd just said to her. "Good thing this didn't happen on the road," he mumbled, hopping down from the table and landing on his left foot, the bandaged right one held up as was his sprained wrist. Scully got up as well and handed him the pair of aluminum crutches that a nurse had brought into the examination room earlier, but he immediately dropped the left one with a grimace of pain. "Oh hell, I can't use both crutches," he said with clear exasperation, lifting the bandaged wrist. "Why'd I have to sprain the opposite ones?"

Scully stepped to his side with a sigh. "Put your arm around my shoulder, Mulder, we'll get you to the car this way," she said, bracing herself as she slid her arm around his muscular waist. "You're on your own once you're home, though."

The feel of his hard, masculine body against her side was enough to make her grit her teeth, especially after that surreal conversation. She'd never deny to herself that Mulder had starred in more than a few of her private sexual fantasies, but in person? Sex with him? She didn't think so. She was fairly certain that he was both well-endowed and likely a caring, considerate lover, although she didn't want to think about his staying power after five or more years of doing nothing than masturbating. She suspected he took the meaning of "one minute wonder" to new heights by now, but regardless either way she had no wish to deal with him as a part of her life more than just her friend and work partner. But maybe just sex... especially only once so they could see what it was like and get it over with... that could be doable...

What am I thinking?! She realized, aghast at her thoughts as they moved slowly down the hospital corridor. She was carrying the other crutch, the right dress shoe he couldn't get on his swollen foot, and the prescription in her free hand. His craziness is catching, that's the only explanation.

They stopped at the pharmacy, Mulder sinking into a chair with a whistled sigh of relief as she went to get his prescription, then she had him wait at the doorway while she went and got the car. But as she helped him into it, he turned his head and stuck his nose in the hair over her ear, sniffing. "Don't know what new shampoo you're using, Scully, but I really like it," he mumbled into her hair, rubbing his nose against her scalp. "Smells like lemon and oranges."

Shivers coursed through her and she jerked away, letting go of him. Luckily he fell into the car rather than onto the pavement next to it. Just what he needs, another sprain or, God forbid, a broken bone this time, she thought. "It's citrus," she said shortly. "Don't sniff me, Mulder, it's rude. I've told you that before."

He said something just as she slammed the door and Scully had the feeling that it was a good thing she hadn't heard it. As she walked around the front of the car she saw him gesturing wildly and went back to open his door. "What?!"

"I can't get my seatbelt on like this." He waved his bandaged hand in her face.

"Oh for God's—hold still, Mulder, and if you touch me I'll break your other arm," she warned, leaning over him to snap the buckle in. As she backed out of the car she glanced at him to find him smiling mildly at her, but she had the funny feeling he'd seen or done something she wouldn't like. But if she couldn't catch him at it she couldn't bitch him out for it, so she'd have to stay on her toes.

The drive to his apartment was in silence, and not a comfortable one like those that they occasionally shared after a successful case. They hadn't even gotten started on today's case before Mulder had tripped and ended up in the emergency room, and Scully wasn't looking forward to working it on her own though she now had no choice.

As they turned onto Hegel Place Mulder said, "You're taking me to my apartment, Scully?"

"Yeah, where did you expect, the Ritz?"

"I thought maybe I could stay with you until--"

"Oh no, no way, not happening, Mulder!" she exclaimed immediately. "Despite your claim, I'm not responsible for your accident. I was a good five feet ahead of you when you fell."

"Two feet if an inch. I didn't mean responsibility. I meant simply because I can't get around like this and there's no one else I can stay with. The Gunmen are out of town at the MacWorld Expo in New York this week."

She snuck a glance at him. He wasn't smirking, grinning, nor did he have any other odd or suggestive expression. "You'll be fine in your apartment, it's not that big. You can hop to the bathroom and back."

"But Scul-lee...!"

"No! I mean it! I'm not having your big gym shoes in the middle of my living room floor for me to trip over, or your dirty underwear in my bathroom, or you slathering toothpaste all over the sink--"

Twenty minutes later they pulled up in front of her apartment building and she stopped in the loading zone just long enough to get him out of the car and sitting on the steps while she moved to a parking spot. When she walked back to the building carrying his small soft-sided suitcase, both of their suit jackets, her laptop bag and briefcase and his other crutch, he was sitting on the stoop talking to her landlord. "Where've you been, Scully?" he asked, struggling to his foot with the single crutch.

"I had to park two blocks away; someone must be having a party in that corner house again," she said crossly. "I'd go arrest someone if I had probable cause other than wreaking havoc with parking. Let me get all this inside and I'll come back for you."

"Here, I'll take those things and you help your partner," her landlord said, reaching out for the items she was carrying.

She'd rather have had him help Mulder but didn't want to quibble and handed everything over, then stepped to her partner's side and in an undertone that she hoped her landlord couldn't hear, said, "No funny stuff, Mulder, or I'll drop you on your ass."

He gazed down at her for a moment and then nodded in all seriousness. "No funny stuff," he agreed. "But if this is the only way I can my hands on you and vice versa, I'll take it."

She had the feeling that the rest of this day was not going to be any more pleasant than it had been so far but gritted her teeth and slung her arm around him again as his settled over her shoulders. To her surprise, however, he was a perfect gentleman all the way to her apartment and even when she got him on the couch and then saw her landlord out, thanking him.

But when she turned around after closing the door, she caught his eyes moving up to her face and knew where they'd been. Hadn't staring at her ass gotten him enough pain already today? "Mulder, I swear..."

"Okay, Scully, I'll be on my best behavior. I appreciate you letting me stay here and I'll try to be as unobtrusive as possible."

She rolled her eyes, making no bones about her disbelief as she toed off her shoes and kicked them away to the side. "I'll get you settled in then I've got to go back to work as you well know," she said. "There's plenty of food, bottled water, and orange juice in the 'fridge. Coffee and tea's in the cabinet over the sink as you well know. There's some canned soup in the pantry if you want it. Help yourself, just call me if you use the last of anything so I can stop at the store on the way home. Or if you need me to get something." While talking she had gone to the hall closet and got down the sheets, blanket, and pillow she kept in case of company and now carried them to the couch. "Why don't you get up so I can make this into a bed for you? It'll be a lot easier to just leave it like this while you're here."

He struggled up with a hand from her, leaning heavily on the crutch with his good hand as she worked. "Whatever's easiest for you. Good thing I'm used to sleeping on a couch, huh?"

"I thought you had a waterbed."

"That? I got rid of it and got a regular bed, but most of the time I still fall asleep on the couch in front of the TV—the bed's too big and empty with just me in it," he said with an odd tone to his voice. She knew better than to look at him and busied herself with smoothing out the sheets and then laying the blanket over them.

"In that case it is good that you're used to sleeping on a couch," she said blandly as she helped him the step or two back to the couch, not letting him know she'd understood his insinuation. "I should be back here no later than six unless I get held up and I'll cook something for dinner for us tonight—that reminds me, let me take something out of the freezer. Spaghetti okay with you?"

She had made it to the kitchen and away from the weight of his eyes, not caring if she was babbling. Jesus, why was she reduced to the level of a nervous sixteen-year-old virgin?! For Chrissakes she was a trained federal agent with a badge and gun and the knowledge and strength to use them. How could one man turn her to jelly with just one sentence? She'd been fine around Mulder until his remark in the hospital about them having sex. Setting a package of lean ground turkey in the microwave and closing the door she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. This was Mulder, her partner and best friend, and she wasn't going to sleep with him no matter what he--

Turning around she found him on one crutch right behind her and gasped, startled, jumping back. As she did so one nylon-clad foot slipped on the recently-waxed tile of her kitchen floor and she started to go down, then caught herself with one arm on the kitchen table.

But that startled him and his crutch slipped as she caught herself. He seemed to know he couldn't catch himself and let himself go over. Next thing Scully knew he was sprawled on the kitchen floor and she was standing over him, wondering just what in the hell had happened.

"Oh, my head," he groaned, reaching around to feel the back of his skull with his good hand. "Add insult to injury, why don't you."

"Shit, Mulder, I'm sorry, you startled me," she said, dropping to her knees at his side unmindful of the hard floor and reaching down to run her hands through his soft hair near the back of his head, which was once again against the cool tile, feeling for bumps. "Are you all right? Did you hit your head?"

"And my wrist, and my ankle, and my butt," he said, grinning up at her. "Going to kiss my ouchies?"

She looked down at him and blew out a breath upward, ruffling the front of her hair as she started to let go of him. "Mulder, I don't thi--"

His good hand came up, cupped around the back of her neck and pulled her face down to his as her words chopped off as if by a guillotine. He gazed into her eyes for a moment, giving her plenty of time to pull away, before guiding her the rest of the way to bring her lips to his, and the next thing she knew she was sprawled on the floor with him.

She was laying half over his chest and they had their arms around each other, his one hand still on the back of her neck while both of hers were buried in his tousled hair. But he wasn't holding her down to him; she was doing that just fine on her own. As she realized how wildly and passionately they were kissing she jerked away from him, staring down at him with both hands braced on his chest and feeling her face grow warm. Was this how the hallway kiss would have turned out, she wondered dazedly, if not for that damned bee?

"Deny that we want each other, Scully," he said huskily, gazing up at her with depthless dark eyes even as he let go of her neck. "I don't know why you fight it, but you want me just as much as I want you. And we need to find out."

She let her shoulders slump and sat back, breaking all contact but sitting only inches away, both legs to one side to keep her modesty intact and with arms folded around her ribs below her breasts, which still tingled from the feel of his hard chest against them. "Jesus, Mulder, why is it suddenly an issue?" she said in defeat. "Why can't we just keep... ignoring it?"

He rolled onto his side, his chest brushing one of her knees, and rested his head in his good hand, elbow propped on the floor. The other arm lay along his side atop the sling, the bandaged wrist resting on his hip. "Because the more I'm with you the more I want you and I'm tired of denying it," he said softly. "I'm at the breaking point. And I honestly think that if we relieve this sexual tension it'll go away and leave us be. Then we can just enjoy being friends."

She couldn't meet his eyes, noting that she needed to dust the bottom of the table legs and that the crossbar on one of the kitchen chair legs was coming loose. Finally she said, "There may be... merit... in your idea but Mulder, I'm not the type to just sleep around without any emotional attachment. Hence my bed being empty these past five years or so despite having had more than one invitation or chance if I'd wanted it."

A gentle touch on her chin made her look up at his smiling face. But it was a soft understanding smile, not a leer or sarcastic grin. He moved his bandaged hand back to his hip when he saw that he'd gotten her attention and said, "That makes two of us, Scully. I did some tomcatting around at Oxford but I much preferred being in a long-term relationship with someone I trusted, which did not happen often. Ours is, without a doubt, the longest I've ever had."

She raised her eyebrows. "Ours?"

"Well, yeah. Even with no sex it's one of the best I've ever had," his smile turned to a grin that lit up his eyes with a teasing light. "And it's up there in the top two."

"Top two?" she replied in kind. "If you tell me that Phoebe or Diana is one of them, I am going to shoot you again."

He laughed, and she felt a melting in the general area of her chest. As much as she didn't want him to, he did affect her in ways that were undoubtedly on the romantic side. "I value my hide, Scully—no, the other was my tenth grade girlfriend, whom I was positive was destined to my one true love until she dumped me for my best friend on the last day of school," he said. "And come on, you can't tell me that your first real boyfriend doesn't hold a special place in your heart."

"Well, yeah, but not the best ever," she said.

He gazed back at her with serious eyes. "Mine wasn't either," he said, which caused her heart to jolt when she realized what he meant, and she had to look away.

Scully glanced at her watch and shook her head. "Mulder, I've got to get going. When I called him from the hospital I told Skinner I'd head back to the office after interviewing McMann and it's already been twice as long as that should have taken."

"Scully, maybe we should talk more about--"

She knew exactly what he was going to say and cut him off. "Mulder, we are not going to talk about your hare-brained idea. If I want to talk about it I'll bring it up. Drop it or you're going back to your apartment on my way back to work, you got it?"

"All right, just help me up." At her stern look he bit his lip, obviously trying to hold back a grin. "I won't bring it up again unless you do. And no funny stuff, I promise."

"I've heard that before!