Title: One More Touch
Author: Lynn Saunders
Website: http://www.angelfire.com/scifi2/lynnsaundersfanfic
Email: lynnsaundersfanfic@hotmail.com
Distribution: Ask and you shall receive.
Rating: PG-13
Classification: MSR, "Ice" missing scene, heavy on the "Pilot"
references
Spoilers: "Ice" and "Pilot"
Keywords: Mulder/Scully Romance, Challenge Fic
Summary: He thinks, not for the first time, that if he could
only have one more touch...
Date Completed: 03-28-03
Author's Notes:
*This is my very first challenge fic! It was written in response
to the UST challenge posted at Haven earlier this evening. The goal
was to write a UST story for any pairing. Also, authors were
to aim for 310 words. Oops! I accidentally extended that to 663
(according to MS Word, anyway). The UST is there, though. ;)
Special Thanks:
Candy-coated Mulders to Carol for providing unsolicited turbo-
beta. You are awesome!
FEEDBACK: I am not above begging! All feedback is delighted
over immediately, then saved for later wallowing. No, really.
I promise.
lynnsaundersfanfic@hotmail.com
Disclaimer: The characters of Mulder and Scully are the
property of Chris Carter and 1013. A break from work is
the only thing I am gaining from writing fan fiction.
* * * * * *
One More Touch
by Lynn Saunders
* * * * * *
In darkness, in solitude, he finds it difficult to keep his mind
reined in on the tight leash that professionalism demands. Inevitably,
as he huddles against the cold wall of the storage room, his
thoughts turn to the predominant subject of his late-night musings,
what he thinks about while lying all alone on the stiff leather of
his couch.
Scully.
The situations change, but the focus of his fantasies remains the
same, has been the same since the night that she knocked anxiously
on his motel room door in the rain.
'I want you to look at something.' Her voice comes back to him,
crystal-clear in the deafening silence of his make-shift cell,
and it becomes obvious that this is the avenue he will
explore tonight.
Slowly, he replays the event in his mind, carefully picking apart
the scene and savoring the elements, allowing the images to
permeate his consciousness the way a good tequila floods the
senses. He remembers the contrast of her ivory skin against the
deep red of her robe, and her fiery hair, curled slightly from
the rain. He remembers the way her fingers shook as she untied
the knot, and the depth of trust in her eyes as she allowed the
material to slip from her shoulders. He remembers the glow of
candlelight on the planes and curves of her body, and his
intense relief when he realized that she was not in danger
(thank God for mosquitoes). But, above all, he remembers the
slide of his fingers against the soft skin of her lower back,
and the way her small form melded against his when he held her
in his arms.
He thinks, not for the first time, that if he could only have one
more touch, one more chance to feel her warm skin on his, he would
be able to clear his mind of these fantasies for good. Just one
more caress...
Suddenly, the large door in front of him creaks open, and she steps
through the doorway. The blinding light from the hallway frames her,
making her look like some sort of benevolent deity. His guardian
angel.
He jumps to his feet, shielding his eyes as they adjust to the glare.
"It's just you?"
"Yes," she answers as the door slams shut behind her. She quickly
locates the light switch.
"It's one of them."
"No one's been killed since you've been in here."
"So?"
"We found a way to kill it. Two worms in one host will kill each
other."
"You give me one worm, you'll infect me."
"If that's true, then why didn't you let us inspect you?"
"I would have but you pulled a gun on me. Now, I don't trust them.
I wanted to trust you."
"Okay, but now they're not here."
He turns, showing her the same level of trust that she gave him all
those months ago, and allows her to check for signs of infection.
When she is satisfied, she releases him and turns to leave.
He should simply follow her. He wants to follow her, but his body
does not obey. Instead, he grabs her, rather forcefully if her
startled gasp is any indication.
He finds himself pulling the fabric of her shirt down, revealing her
soft neck. He can't help but enjoy the feel of her skin under his,
can't resist allowing his fingers to linger ever-so-slightly longer
than necessary, and can't deny the zing of electricity that
travels through him when he is close to her. Though he understands
the dire nature of their present situation, for the briefest moment
one thought forces itself to the forefront of his mind. He
realizes that his desire for her will never be quenched, but will
keep building and building until one or both of them can no longer
stand it. And he knows from the barely-audible catch in her breath
as his thumb skims the graceful arch of her neck that she feels it
too.
* * * * * *
lynnsaundersfanfic@hotmail.com
Author: Lynn Saunders
Website: http://www.angelfire.com/scifi2/lynnsaundersfanfic
Email: lynnsaundersfanfic@hotmail.com
Distribution: Ask and you shall receive.
Rating: PG-13
Classification: MSR, "Ice" missing scene, heavy on the "Pilot"
references
Spoilers: "Ice" and "Pilot"
Keywords: Mulder/Scully Romance, Challenge Fic
Summary: He thinks, not for the first time, that if he could
only have one more touch...
Date Completed: 03-28-03
Author's Notes:
*This is my very first challenge fic! It was written in response
to the UST challenge posted at Haven earlier this evening. The goal
was to write a UST story for any pairing. Also, authors were
to aim for 310 words. Oops! I accidentally extended that to 663
(according to MS Word, anyway). The UST is there, though. ;)
Special Thanks:
Candy-coated Mulders to Carol for providing unsolicited turbo-
beta. You are awesome!
FEEDBACK: I am not above begging! All feedback is delighted
over immediately, then saved for later wallowing. No, really.
I promise.
lynnsaundersfanfic@hotmail.com
Disclaimer: The characters of Mulder and Scully are the
property of Chris Carter and 1013. A break from work is
the only thing I am gaining from writing fan fiction.
* * * * * *
One More Touch
by Lynn Saunders
* * * * * *
In darkness, in solitude, he finds it difficult to keep his mind
reined in on the tight leash that professionalism demands. Inevitably,
as he huddles against the cold wall of the storage room, his
thoughts turn to the predominant subject of his late-night musings,
what he thinks about while lying all alone on the stiff leather of
his couch.
Scully.
The situations change, but the focus of his fantasies remains the
same, has been the same since the night that she knocked anxiously
on his motel room door in the rain.
'I want you to look at something.' Her voice comes back to him,
crystal-clear in the deafening silence of his make-shift cell,
and it becomes obvious that this is the avenue he will
explore tonight.
Slowly, he replays the event in his mind, carefully picking apart
the scene and savoring the elements, allowing the images to
permeate his consciousness the way a good tequila floods the
senses. He remembers the contrast of her ivory skin against the
deep red of her robe, and her fiery hair, curled slightly from
the rain. He remembers the way her fingers shook as she untied
the knot, and the depth of trust in her eyes as she allowed the
material to slip from her shoulders. He remembers the glow of
candlelight on the planes and curves of her body, and his
intense relief when he realized that she was not in danger
(thank God for mosquitoes). But, above all, he remembers the
slide of his fingers against the soft skin of her lower back,
and the way her small form melded against his when he held her
in his arms.
He thinks, not for the first time, that if he could only have one
more touch, one more chance to feel her warm skin on his, he would
be able to clear his mind of these fantasies for good. Just one
more caress...
Suddenly, the large door in front of him creaks open, and she steps
through the doorway. The blinding light from the hallway frames her,
making her look like some sort of benevolent deity. His guardian
angel.
He jumps to his feet, shielding his eyes as they adjust to the glare.
"It's just you?"
"Yes," she answers as the door slams shut behind her. She quickly
locates the light switch.
"It's one of them."
"No one's been killed since you've been in here."
"So?"
"We found a way to kill it. Two worms in one host will kill each
other."
"You give me one worm, you'll infect me."
"If that's true, then why didn't you let us inspect you?"
"I would have but you pulled a gun on me. Now, I don't trust them.
I wanted to trust you."
"Okay, but now they're not here."
He turns, showing her the same level of trust that she gave him all
those months ago, and allows her to check for signs of infection.
When she is satisfied, she releases him and turns to leave.
He should simply follow her. He wants to follow her, but his body
does not obey. Instead, he grabs her, rather forcefully if her
startled gasp is any indication.
He finds himself pulling the fabric of her shirt down, revealing her
soft neck. He can't help but enjoy the feel of her skin under his,
can't resist allowing his fingers to linger ever-so-slightly longer
than necessary, and can't deny the zing of electricity that
travels through him when he is close to her. Though he understands
the dire nature of their present situation, for the briefest moment
one thought forces itself to the forefront of his mind. He
realizes that his desire for her will never be quenched, but will
keep building and building until one or both of them can no longer
stand it. And he knows from the barely-audible catch in her breath
as his thumb skims the graceful arch of her neck that she feels it
too.
* * * * * *
lynnsaundersfanfic@hotmail.com