All Characters copyright of TenThirteen Productions and Chris Carter. No infringement intended on any part... go ahead, take me to court...I'm using the insanity defence... heh, heh, heh...
Comments, complaints and just plain talk to sheryl_martin@goodmedia.com
Summary: Aspects of our two agents are like...Spoilers: none... even if you have/haven't seen the movie, it won't make a difference...Rating: hmm... PG, really... with a tinge towards R, I suspect... Story... whatever...
Moon and Sun (1/1)by Sheryl Martin
There is a full moon tonight.
I know because even though I can't see it, the beams are reaching around the curtains that are billowing out in the night breeze; sneaking up onto the bed and over the sheets, giving the bedroom an unworldly look.
Along with the two of us.
I feel him shift beside me, his hands roaming along my side as they do every time he treads near consciousness, making sure that I am still there.
It is supposedly the night when werewolves roam wild and free; the undead rising from their coffins to claim new victims. At least that's what he would say if he were fully awake.
And he would give me that grin and dispute all my protests to the contrary with his 'evidence' and his case studies and stories that seem to come from out of the darkest recesses of anyone's imagination.
His head dips in at the back of my neck, kissing it lightly. A hand lightly traces along my hip; snaking slowly in between my legs to gently brush over the moist skin, the evidence of what we had done only a few hours ago. Before we had reluctantly given into a demand even greater than our need for each other; the need for sleep.
But he does not sleep deeply, my Mulder.
His eyes flash open every time I get up to go to the bathroom, only closing after receiving assurance that I will return. A mumbled reply and he drifts off again, waiting for me.
And I do return, curling back into his arms that envelope me like some exotic fur coat; pulling me into an embrace that's almost suffocating at times.
But then he relaxes his grip slightly, enough for me to claim my own part of the bed we now share.
His hand curls around my breast, cupping it loosely as he continues to kiss the soft skin; his tongue flicking out to lap lazily at my ear.
Instinctively I push my hips back, feeling his legs part slightly to allow me more access. Lifting one hand, I run my fingers slowly along his lightly furred leg where it sits atop my own, sliding my hand behind his knee to dance circles in the soft space there. Smiling wickedly in the moonlight, I tease him; rubbing against him until he groans in defeat.
I know he's too tired. His mind is willing, his flesh too tired to respond yet again to my demands.
He knows that I know, a weary sigh signalling his acceptance of his earthly limits.
"Rain check..." The sleepy whisper sends a shiver through my body, the promise already having an effect on me. And he knows it, the smug bastard. His chuckle into my hair gives him away.
I drift back down into the moonlight, feeling his arms curls around me once again, keeping me away from the darkness.
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I open my eyes to a scarlet sunrise, glimpsed through the auburn fringes of her hair as it lies on the pillow; the edges tickling my nose and lips in the most delicious way.
She stirs slightly, pushing herself back into my arms once again.
Every time she stirs and cries out in the night I hold her, trying to banish the demons as best I can. I know it doesn't always work. I just hope she doesn't remember them, just my arms around her.
Stroking her arm, I try to not be amazed at the sight of her, the scent and feel of the woman beside me; drawing me into an addiction that I have no wish to be cured of.
She mumbles something under her breath, pressing back against me.
I know what she wants.
And while I have been pleasantly surprised in the past by her demands and requests, I am pleased at this sudden thirst I have raised in her. One which I match eagerly, of course.
And then we will rise up and go to work and she will be the consummate professional, my Scully. Ever the scientist, ever the skeptic to what I say or present or suggest.
I love her for it.
The first sunbeam of the dawn breaks in through the curtain, sliding dangerously close to her side of the bed and to her pillow and to her face; threatening to wake her up too soon for my liking.
Shifting my body back a few inches I pull her along with me, ignoring the confused sigh as I gently wrap my arms yet again around her waist and slide her along the sheets.
It's not time yet.
A soft grumble escapes her lips, the bright red tongue darting out to moisten her lips as she turns over; away from the sunlight. Putting her face against my chest she burrows into the light hair; a contented sound coming from her as she buries herself in me.
Carefully manoeuvring one hand free I put it at the back of her neck, fingers tangling in the soft hair there. Stroking and playing with the reddish tresses as the sunbeam creeps along the bed towards us; reminding me that if I love the night I must respect the day.
But that doesn't mean I can't avoid it for as long as I can.
And for a few more minutes I stare at her, stroking over the scar in her skin and wondering what she sees in me. What she could possibly see in a man like me.
Because we are so different. But so alike. Complimenting each other in an elaborate dance that works somehow, although I have no theory for why it does. And I somehow doubt that she understands either.
But it does.
She opens one eye, lazily studying my face as I smile. Draping one hand over my waist, she pushes her face up to mine; putting her lips over my own as she whispers sleepily into my mouth.
"Wanna cash in that rain check now..."
And I know the sun will not touch us, nor the darkness of the night with the full moon offering the only illumination in a sea of shadows.
Then she kisses me, and all coherent thought is lost in a blaze of brightness.
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