His weight pressing me into the mattress. His hot, wet, mouth over mine. His hands, in my hair, cupping my neck, my waist... seemingly everywhere at once. His chest hair, rough against my tingling nipples. And the pure ecstasy flooding me at every deep, hard, thrust. Oh God…
"Scully." I woke up sharply at the sound of the voice, although the echoes of the dream took much longer to die away. Opening my eyes blearily I pushed myself up on my elbows. He was standing at the door which connected our two motel rooms.
"What?" My voice, heavy with sleep, came out far deeper and huskier than I would have wished. I tried to push away the throbbing need that lingered still. He was gazing at me, a huge goofy smile across his face, and a wicked twinkle in his eyes. I raised an eyebrow, and endeavored to brush disheveled hair from my eyes. His gaze traveled down to my shoulder, and I looked down to see that my silk pajamas had slipped off that shoulder, leaving it bare. I hastily covered the exposed skin, swallowed hard, and, looking at him slightly nervously, repeated "What?"
He managed to suppress the grin, and said "Nothing". But as he turned back into his motel room, I saw the grin inexorably spreading again. Now what was that about?
"Mulder, what?! Why did you wake me up?" But he had closed the door. Glancing at my travel alarm-clock I realized immediately why he had woken me up. "Shit!"
I hurried through getting ready, and got down to breakfast quickly. He had been fully dressed when he woke me, so, as I expected, he was already sitting at the little table at which we had eaten a small and rushed dinner last night.
"Morning sleepyhead!" There was that goofy grin again. "Good lie-in, was it?"
"My alarm didn't go off, is all. What are you grinning about?"
"Nothing. Have some toast." He was trying very hard to suppress the grin, but failing miserably. I decided to help him out, and I started discussing the case, and our plans for the day. When I looked up, however, I saw that he was looking unashamedly at my mouth, his fork hovering in mid-air with a piece of bacon about to fall from it.
"Mulder? You with me?" He jerked his eyes up to mine, and the grin spread irrepressibly again.
"Uh huh. You were saying?"
I continued, this time with one eyebrow raised at him, and he obediently joined the discussion between mouthfuls. I wondered what was going on with him this morning. Then a sudden, horrible thought hit me. What if I'd … made noises… when I was dreaming? And he'd heard me… Well, that would totally explain his behavior. The Ice Queen having a raunchy dream! I tried to suppress a blush. But how to find out for sure, without giving it away? I interrupted him, mid flow, and said abruptly
"Say Mulder, I had the weirdest dream last night"
"You did, huh?" His answer came almost before I had finished speaking, as if he'd been waiting for this. He looked at me with a wicked expression in his eyes and that same wide grin on his face as he spoke.
Well then. That's my answer. Shit.
"You… heard." I couldn't meet his eyes.
"Hee hee." He said, grinning evilly.
"Damn it." I was blushing furiously now and still couldn't look at him. Scully the Ice Queen had a raunchy dream. How long would he torture me about this for? But to my surprise and *extreme* gratitude, he chose instead to continue the discussion I had interrupted, although with a slight smirk on his face. I wondered if… no, *when* this would come back to bite me in the ass.
At the Sheriff's office two hours later, we had been left alone in a back room, to go through some files. The room was darkened by a rather dirty-looking towel nailed over the one high window, and coffee-cup rings covered the portions of the desk that were not stacked with paper. An enormous filing cabinet filled one wall, and I sighed as I realized the little card-holders on the outside of each drawer were empty. Not a single drawer was labelled, and we would have to open every drawer to find the files we were seeking.
"Why don't you start at that side, and I'll start over here." I said, resignedly. It would really have helped if the place was lit with more than the one bare bulb that hung rather apologetically in the center of the room. Several minutes later, I had moved three stacks to my right, and Mulder had progressed four stacks to his left. I hunkered down to open the lowest drawer, and didn't see him coming up behind me. When I stood up, my back brushed against the front of his body, he was standing so close.
"Jesus, Mulder, you startled me. Did you find the right drawer?" I said as I turned around to face him. He was standing too close, even for him. He had a curious look in his eyes, and was gazing intently at me, without, I noticed, a file in his hand.
"No, I thought I'd try this one" He said, opening the drawer on the right of my waist.
"What? I tried that one already. Stick to your own side or we'll never get done."
Keeping his hand on the open drawer's handle, he reached around me to the drawer at the other side of my waist. "How about this one?" He said as he leaned closer to grasp the handle. His face was inches from mine now and I was very conscious of the proximity of our bodies. I tried to back up, but the filing cabinet stopped me. He opened the other drawer, effectively trapping me between the two of them. Panic began to rise as my breathing quickened.
"Mulder what on earth are you doing?" I tried to move as far back away from him as I could, but he followed, until I was pressed completely up against the filing cabinet. My heart was beating at an alarming rate, but still he leaned closer. Those beautiful lips were so close to mine. My eyes were drawn irresistibly to them, and I felt a flush starting to creep up my neck.
"What the hell, Mulder?!" My voice came out weak and shaky, instead of angry as I had intended. His intense look suddenly gave way to that same dopey grin, and he gave a deep chuckle.
"Just teasing!" He said, and let go of the drawers, turning abruptly back to where he had left open the drawer he was supposed to be searching. I was left leaning against the cabinet, my heart beating fast, feeling slightly stupid and wondering what the hell was going on with him. He had never been like this before! Okay he often came up with innuendo, sometimes a little more explicit than I was prepared for, but he'd never done anything like this. I turned angrily to him.
"That wasn't funny Mulder! We have work to do here."
"Yes ma'am, sorry ma'am." That damn grin again as he searched the drawer. "Just couldn't resist it."
"What? What does *that* mean? You've never… oh never mind, we don't have time." I was properly angry now, as I shut the two drawers he had opened on each side of me. Why was he acting this way? Just because he heard me moaning in my sleep? What was the big deal? And, damn it, why did I start trembling like a schoolgirl when he pressed close to me? I had been suppressing my feelings for years; surely I had got better at it than this? Why did everything come flooding back when he got within a few inches of me?
I realized then that I was angrier with myself than with him. Eventually I started a conversation to show I wasn't mad at him.
After a few minutes, I interrupted a theory about personal electric fields to shout "Got it! This is the right drawer." Instantly he was all business, moving over to my side to search the drawer and pull out the correct files. I moved some stacks of paper to clear a space on the grimy desk, and got out my laptop, and we set to work.
When Sheriff Farley returned from whatever had called him away, we had got what we needed and were waiting in his outer office, drinking repulsive coffee from the machine there.
"You folks got what you needed? What else can I do for you?" He directed his remarks at me, completely ignoring Mulder. His smile made me feel slightly uncomfortable, and the feeling increased dramatically when his eyes traveled south. Mulder, hating to be marginalized, stepped forward so that he was standing slightly in front of me, and answered the Sheriff as if it had been he who had been addressed. I wanted to feel irritated that he couldn't stand me speaking for the two of us, but I was secretly rather relieved. The Sheriff had a habit of leaning too close. At least with women. And he drank too much of that repulsive coffee.
Mulder got some addresses from the Sheriff and led me out of the building with his hand rather more firmly on my lower back than usual. His jaw was set and I could tell he did *not* like Farley.
"Don't worry Mulder, he's just a jerk." I said, trying to reassure him. He sometimes got protective of me like this, and although I hated the fact that he assumed I couldn't look after myself, I was secretly touched that he cared.
"What? Who? Oh, Farley, right." He looked slightly confused, and this baffled me. I raised an eyebrow at him over the top of the rental car as he unlocked the door, and he smiled quickly. "Sorry, I was miles away."
"Where were you?" I asked, eyebrow still raised, as I got in and put on my seat-belt. I had felt sure he was annoyed at Farley speaking only to me, and looking at me as if I was some pin-up in his small dingy bathroom. Mulder smiled but quickly suppressed it, and changed the subject to that of our destination. I acquiesced to the change of topic, but remained confused.
"Hey Scully, can you pull up 45.17A53 and read out the fourth page?" He asked suddenly.
"45 what?" I said stupidly.
"The third file we found, the one with the photographs and x-ray. The bunch of stapled pages you scanned in? Can you read from the fourth page please."
That photographic memory; trust him to have memorized the file number. I fumbled for my laptop, feeling inadequate, and opened the correct file. I scrolled to the page he wanted and started to read. He kept his eyes on the road, nodding occasionally and making comments. He often had me do this, it was a less wasteful way to use the hours we spent on the road. However, we didn't have far to go this afternoon, and I was surprised he wanted the file read so soon after he had read it himself. If he had memorized the file number, I *knew* he already knew the contents like the back of his hand. I looked at him, and saw that lazy grin playing at the corner of his mouth… I dragged my eyes away. I had been captivated too many times by that mouth, and had occasionally been caught, although I mostly managed to cover up for myself. But still, it was dangerous to allow myself to look at him for too long. Damn it, after all this time, why didn't these feelings just go away. I forced myself to concentrate, and kept reading, only mildly wondering what he was *still* smiling at. My having had an… interesting dream couldn't have amused him *that* much, surely. After a minute or so I stole another look, and saw that the smile had gone, and that he was breathing more heavily than usual and biting his lower lip. Taking this in, I had forgotten to keep reading, and he turned to me.
"You stopped."
"Oh. Yeah. Sorry." I felt stupid again.
But he smiled suddenly, wickedly, and said playfully "Go on… I love the sound of your voice…"
Damn it, I was blushing again. Why does his innuendo still affect me this way? I'm sure he knows it, too, and takes advantage of it. I opened my mouth to read.
"You're blushinnnng" he said teasingly, and instantly making me blush even more.
"Shut up Mulder" I said through gritted teeth, and closed my laptop.
"Oh you're not going to stop when I'm so nearly there are you?"
"What do you mean?"
He waggled his eyebrows at me and said softly "Don't you know I get off on you reading to me?"
"Oh for goodness sake!" I managed to quell the tremor that ran through me, and instead to seem annoyed. "What is with you today?"
"Damn, I just missed the turning!"
"That's what you get for messing around."
"Is it my fault you're so damn distracting?" I didn't grace this with an answer, instead just sighing and rolling my eyes. I wasn't entirely sure I trusted my voice right now in any case.
When we had finally completed the three interviews, it was getting on for 7pm and we had had no lunch. He suggested we go out rather than eat at the motel; the food there was quite honestly abysmal. Although I was too hungry to really care *what* I ate, I agreed. We found a place that the Sheriff had told us did fairly good Italian, despite being called 'Luigi's Crab House, and I recalled the Sheriff leaning close to me and saying 'Just whatever you do, *don't* order the crab!'. He had then laughed for an obnoxiously long time.
We were seated by Luigi himself, who turned out to be rather stereotypically Italian, and I couldn't help wondering why he had chosen to open a 'Crab House' rather than go with what nature had given him. He waxed lyrical for a while on the wonders of his seafood, and Mulder politely waited for him to finish before saying that he preferred to eat seafood on the coast, and could we each have a lasagne. Luigi's shoulders dropped, and he wrote down our order and disappeared without further comment. I felt rather sorry for him.
"He's barking up the wrong tree, that one" I said, and Mulder laughed. He then surprised me by bringing out a bottle of wine as if from nowhere!
"Where did you get that!?" I asked, incredulous.
"I brought it from Washington, actually. I wanted to surprise you. It's our anniversary today" He opened the screw-top bottle and began to pour wine into my glass.
"What?" I raised an eyebrow, but smiled with half my mouth.
"Of the day we first met. Ah, what a day… I'll never forget it…" he pretended to gaze into the distance nostalgically. Caught off-guard by his actually recalling the date we met, I gave a rather embarrassing snort of laughter and said "As I *recall*, you were extremely displeased at my appearance."
He leaned forward and fixed me with an intense look but the corners of his mouth were turned up "Your *appearance* was the *last* thing that displeased me…"
I blushed slightly and said "I mean at my appearing in your office, to 'spy' on you." I wondered again at the unusual frequency of Mulder's innuendos today. He had kept up a steady stream of increasingly inappropriate comments each time we were alone, and even once when the young man we were interviewing had simply turned around to find a photograph to show us.
"I suppose. But I changed my mind when you came to my hotel room and stripped for me…"
"Mulder!"
"Anytime you want to do that again, it's fine with me. You know, any little marks you want me to check, *wherever* they might be…" I interrupted him
"Can we *please* change the subject?" Jesus, what was *with* him today!? His shoulders slumped like a dejected schoolboy, and he put on that adorable pout. I couldn't feel angry with him, especially with a few sips of wine on an empty stomach starting to warm my insides.
"You don't love me anymore, Scully."
"Oh? Who says I ever did?" I was joking with him now.
"That's it, there's no point living anymore." He said with melodramatic finality. He took out his gun and passed it across the table to me. "Do the kind thing, Scully. I can't live if you won't let me have you." I prayed he would blame my blush on the wine. "Mulder stop, okay?" I lowered my voice "And you can't pull that out in here" He struggled desperately to refrain from the comment that was no doubt on his lips, and I inwardly cursed myself for walking into yet another innuendo. Thankfully, though, GoodMulder won the struggle, and EvilMulder slouched away scuffing his shoe. I smiled to let him know I wasn't mad, and we started talking about safer subjects. I was grateful for this. For him, flirting outrageously with me might be a hilarious joke, but for me it was fairly painful. No matter how I tried, I could not stop wanting this man, and I knew he could never want me in the same way.
"So, how about Martin Coombs?" He was referring to the young man we had interviewed. "Telling the truth? Or a really good actor?"
"I think he's telling the truth, or what he *believes* is the truth. What he saw doesn't make any sense, and if he was making it up, surely he would have come up with a more plausible story."
"Scully, his story makes perfect sense. If you keep your mind just the tiniest bit open, that is."
"Oh for goodness sake. Electricity cannot come from nothing. Only superheroes can fry a human being by just touching them."
He didn't answer at first, making me look at him. Capturing my gaze, he leaned closer, and I unconsciously mirrored him.
"Oh I don't know, Scully. I feel sparks when you touch me." My heart flew up to my throat in a single pulse, forcing me to swallow, and the deep roughness of his voice sent tingles down my body to pool between my legs.
"Very funny" I tried to keep my voice steady and laugh it off, but I know he noticed how he had unsettled me. He smiled wickedly, and I wanted to punch him.
He was saved by Luigi's arrival. Luigi grumpily placed two plates of lasagne in front of us, and then noticed the wine.
"You see a BYO sign out front?" He grouched. "I'll have to charge corkage."
"I'm sorry, but you don't have a wine list, and we wanted wine." Mulder said.
"Mmph. Well, I'm adding ten dollars to your bill for corkage."
I tried to pacify the poor restaurateur. "Not a problem, Sir, and thank you for your understanding. This smells wonderful by the way." I flashed him a winning smile, and God help me I even batted my eyelids a bit. He grudgingly smiled back, and seemed much happier as he walked away. I caught Mulder looking at me with a curious expression, half smiling, half wistful.
"What is it?"
"Oh nothing… just… you *do* know how to turn on the charm, don't you?"
"Nonsense" I said, and started eating, to prevent further comment.
When the bill arrived, there was no $10 added for corkage. Mulder would not let this go, and teased me all the way back to the motel about the ease with which I had 'wrapped Luigi around my finger'. Eventually I half-snapped at him "He was just a decent guy, and was prepared to let it go! It's not like he was drooling over me."
"Not when you were watching, at least. The kitchen was behind you. I could see in. He couldn't take his eyes off you. Why do you think he kept refilling your water each time you took a sip?"
"Drop it, Mulder."
"Fine."
As we got out of the car, the cold air hit me and my head swam. I am not a large person, and I had had more than my share of the bottle of wine, as Mulder was driving. However, I have a glass or two with dinner whenever I have the time to eat properly, so I'm fairly used to it and can handle it okay. I focused myself and Mulder didn't notice anything. Inside, however, Florence who ran the front desk got into a flap on seeing us. She fretted her wrinkled hands and tapped her spectacles on the desk while she explained that we had only booked one night and she assumed we were leaving and she had rented out Mulder's room. The couple to whom she had rented it were at dinner, but would soon be back and please could Mulder move his stuff out of the room. We had left so early this morning that she had assumed we would be back in time for noon check-out, but we had been gone all day and she didn't know what to do. We apologized for causing her stress, and asked if she had another room. She said that if she had another room, she would have put the couple in that one.
"Okay, is there another motel in town?" I tried to keep my voice from sounding desperate.
"Not 'til Stony River, 90 miles north. I'm so sorry!"
"What about a cot or something?" Shit, what were we going to do?
"I woulda offered straight away if we had anything like that." She really did seem sorry; her lined face grimacing as if she could cry.
I turned to Mulder. "What now?" He suggested rather grumpily that the other couple drive to Stony River, but he realised that wasn't fair.
"Scully, I don't think I can drive that far tonight. I had more wine than I should have."
I sighed. Damn it. But what other option was there?
"Okay Florence, we'll move his stuff into my room and sort something out. Sorry to have put you to any extra hassle." As we turned away, I heard Mulder mutter something that I wouldn't have repeated to Florence.
Mulder seemed to brighten as we approached his room. It didn't take him long to gather his stuff, in fact he was rushing so much that he left a sock on the TV as he hurried through the connecting door. As I went to pick it up for him, I wondered briefly why he had put the sock on the TV, and why the remote was placed on top of the sock, as if purposefully. 'Who can fathom the male mind?' I thought to myself, smiling. When I had got into my room, and locked the connecting door, I saw that Mulder was sitting on the bed, excitement radiating from every pore, and grinning at me. He looked like a little kid, almost bouncing on the bed, as if he was bursting to say something. I couldn't help but laugh as I said
"What is *up* with you?"
"Oh nothing, I just get to share a bed with a gorgeous redhead is all!" Uh huh. So *that* was it. I felt rather loathe to wipe that grin from his face, but still.
"Ahem, you're getting the floor, buster!"
His crestfallen face was almost comical. "But it's cold! And hard. And there's only one extra blanket" he whined. I reflected that this was true. In fact, it would be too cruel of me to expect him to sleep on the thin scratchy carpet with only a pillow and a worn blanket to wrap around him. It was *not* a warm night. But there was no way I was getting any sleep with Mulder in my bed.
"In fact, you don't have much choice in the matter." He said, pouting. "It could just as easily have been your room that got rented out, and I wouldn't make *you* sleep on the floor. And, I'm bigger and stronger than you, and I refuse to sleep on the floor. You can't make me. So there." He stuck out his bottom lip like a child to show he was joking, but the words that he had chosen stuck in my head, conjuring images of him using his superior physical strength to compel me to let him into bed with me… my imagination went into overdrive and it was a few seconds before I realized I had not answered him and was just staring at him with my mouth slightly open like an idiot. I blinked the images away quickly.
"Well if that's the case I guess I have no choice" I managed to get out, pretending to joke with him. His face lit up like Times Square, and I had to laugh; he looked like a kid on Christmas morning. He bounced up and down a bit, and then said hopefully
"So, shall we get our clothes off then?"
My eyes widened but I controlled my response. "Mulder don't make this more difficult than it is!"
"Okay, I'll go first." He dived off the bed and into the bathroom, and I sank onto the bed and took advantage of the temporary respite from him to clear my head. I pressed the cold tips of my fingers onto my hot eyelids, and wondered how on earth I had ended up in this predicament. His voice called out from the bathroom
"If I have a shower, will you join me?" God damn it Mulder that was not helping. Why was he *quite* so generous with the innuendo today? Then the door was opening, before I had quite managed to focus myself again. He came out wearing nothing but boxers. Black silk boxers. Fuck me. I gritted my teeth in an effort to keep my eyes where they should be, and said
"That was quick. Don't mess about, do you?"
"Well I didn't brush my teeth yet. I thought you might be itching to get out of that tight skirt and blouse." His eyes lingered gratuitously on my cleavage, until I felt distinctly uncomfortable.
"Mulder please."
"It's not *my* fault you look… like that…" He still hadn't torn his eyes away from my breasts.
"Mulder I'm up here!" I said, astonished at his behavior. He was acting like a kid at an all boys boarding school who had just found himself in the changing room at a strip club. I was embarrassed to find, also, that his lingering gaze was affecting me in a way I could never allow him to discover. Feeling defensive, I lashed out. "Jesus Mulder, what is *with* you today? Is your VCR broken or something?"
"Ouch."
"No, that's not it; you had a working TV last night…"
"Hey!"
"What, you can make inappropriate comments all day and I can't say anything back?"
"I haven't made inappropriate comments *all* day. Sometimes I made appropriate ones. It's telling the truth, for example, to say you have a fantastic rack."
I blushed scarlet. "Mulder that is completely out of line. I could have you up for sexual harassment."
"You have me up anyway without trying"
If I could have blushed more, I would have. I was suddenly finding it harder to breathe. "Please, Mulder".
"You don't have to beg, Scully." Speaking low, he looked at me with come-to-bed eyes and I simply couldn't meet his gaze. "Please, Mulder, stop." I said in a very small voice. He grinned.
"Sorry. Can't help it. I'll stop now. You're just so easy to wind up."
God damn him. "Fuck you Mulder."
"Sure! Wanna clean your teeth first?" He held open the door to the bathroom, and I just stood there, mouth opening and shutting, eyes locked with his. He was so much better at this than me, and I knew when I was beaten. I simply turned and went into the bathroom.
With the door locked, I took a few deep, cleansing breaths, sitting on the side of the bath. Damn him. It wasn't fair. It might be funny for him, but it was just tearing me up inside. If he knew how I felt about him, would he stop treating me like this? Not that I was ever going to admit it. Far too embarrassing; I could never again look him in the face if he knew exactly what he did to me every time our eyes met. I passed my hands through my hair and tried to calm myself down. God, I had to share a bed with him. There was no way I was getting ANY sleep tonight. The thought of lying there, a few inches separating our bodies, his face on the pillow next to me, all squashy from sleep, those beautiful lips forced into a pout, one leg brushing up against mine, sending sparks all through me… aaagh why was I torturing myself? This was the exact opposite of what I needed right now. Okay. Calm. I stood up, took a breath, and opened the door. He was staring out of the window while rinsing his toothbrush in a glass of water, obviously having decided not to wait for the bathroom. I started towards my suitcase, which was on the small table next to him. He turned away from the window and looked me up and down, a little more slowly than was professional.
"So I can't help but notice you still have your clothes on. Need some help?" He actually started to walk towards me, and without thinking, I automatically started backing up… and tripped on the bed cover, falling back onto the bed. I sat up quickly and he was there, standing right at the foot of the bed, so that I couldn't stand up again. He was looking at me with a sly smile, obviously enjoying my panic.
"What the hell are you playing at Mulder, you made me trip."
"No, that was you. I didn't do anything. I can't help you're afraid of me. Do you think I'm going to bite? Well, I might…" He bent down over me, and I scrambled further up the bed, fighting for breath. He put a knee on the bed as if to crawl up over me, and I started to lose it. What was his *problem*? Did he really think this was *funny*? My heart was hammering, and suddenly I just wanted to scream at him, to make him feel as defensive and trapped as he was making me feel.
"Mulder what is your problem!? I… Shit, I know what it is… by this time you're usually in there on your own, with the porn channel turned right up, getting your rocks off to some leggy brunette bitch taking it from three guys at once. Right? That's what gets you off, right? And now you can't get your relief because I'm here, and Lord knows you haven't got laid in years, and you're frustrated. You can't get to sleep without jerking off, and you're all revved up with no place to go, and you're taking it out on me. Well I'm sorry that you have to share a room with me, but I will not be your toy to just play with and get your kicks…" He interrupted now, his expression having moved from shock through hurt and into anger. Sarcastically, he snapped out
"Yeah that's right, I'm a total loser who hasn't been with anyone in years. But can you blame me for pushing it with you, after what I heard this morning?"
Total silence fell, as I tried to understand what he meant. Nope, not working.
"Huh?" I said, completely baffled.
"Do you remember when I woke you up this morning?"
"Vividly" I said, acidly.
"Do you know *why* I woke you up?"
"I overslept" I said, blushing as I remembered exactly what I had been dreaming about.
"I did it because I'm a gentleman, contrary to what you seem to believe. I felt guilty listening to you… you were… you…" he trailed off, suddenly seeming embarrassed, and all the fight going out of him. I was embarrassed now too, but I dealt with it by getting angrier to cover it up.
"So you overheard me moaning in my sleep. Big deal. God knows I'd hear you doing worse if you didn't have the damn volume up so high. Is that why you've been torturing me all day? Because Scully the Ice Queen had a raunchy dream?"
"No" he said simply, his hands hanging at his sides, a beaten look on his face.
"WELL then?"
"You're right, I am frustrated. But I wouldn't usually take it out on you. I'm sorry. It's just… I can't get it out of my head. I opened the door to wake you up because your alarm didn't go off. And… well…" he was struggling to find the words. My anger started to subside. "It wasn't just the sounds you made…"
It suddenly hit me. Please, God, no…
"Fuck, Scully, you were saying my name! You were saying *my* name! And holy hell do you know how hot you looked, writhing and moaning and… *my* name… I never knew… I've been on cloud nine all of today, and can I help it if I let it show a bit?"
No, no, NO! Pushing my mortification down, I did the only thing I could do to make this all go away. I rationalized it. "Okay, Mulder, so you had a nice ego trip and it's made you feel like a stud all day. I understand. I don't want to hurt your ego but you know dreams mean nothing. You might dream that Florence was going down on you; it doesn't mean you want it to happen" I saw him shudder and felt mildly triumphant. "I dreamed a week ago that I was a jellybaby, and somehow fell into your coffee and dissolved. Do you think I want *that* to happen?"
He smiled a bit at that. "A jellybaby? Weirdo."
"Well it made sense at the time." Suddenly things were alright between us again. The release of tension made us both laugh. "Well I guess I'll go brush my teeth now then." I said, getting up from the bed to fetch my pajamas from my suitcase. He was getting himself comfortable on the middle of the bed and examining the TV remote when I closed the door.
So. His name. Shit. But I seemed to have got away with it. Hopefully that rationalization would deflate his ego a little and stop him torturing me any more. At the very least, I should still be able to look him in the eye without intense embarrassment. What would he say if he knew it was only *ever* his name on my lips when I dreamed…?
Having brushed my teeth I removed the blouse and skirt that was *not* tight despite what Mulder had claimed, although granted the buttons on the blouse didn't exactly go up to under my chin. A woman's gotta feet attractive, right? Even if the only man she wants isn't interested. It might sound pathetic, but it did make me feel slightly better about myself when I got attention from idiots like Farley and that guy at the restaurant. And I needed to feel better about myself. Constantly being around a man I had been in love with for years, and who thought of me as nothing but a friend, had not done my self-esteem any favors. Especially as I knew exactly what his type was, and it was the opposite of myself. Tall busty brunettes; I fulfilled none of his criteria and never would. I sighed, and put on my long silk pajamas, debating with myself whether to wear a bra in bed. I would be very uncomfortable if I did, but very self-conscious if I didn't, in the cold room. I decided to go with wearing the bra, planning to take it off once under the covers.
Exiting the bathroom I made a concerted effort not to meet Mulder's eyes which I could tell were on me as I crossed the room towards him. I stopped at the foot of the bed. He was sitting Indian-style in the middle, looking at me. I finally met his gaze and said
"This is weird". Coming towards him in my sleepwear felt… like I was going to bed with him, not just sharing a bed with him. I didn't want to crawl towards him on that bed, probably giving him an eyeful in the process. I squeezed around the side of the bed (the room was rather small) and pulled back the covers.
"You're not going to sleep yet are you? I'm not at all sleepy. And Close Encounters of the Third Kind is on."
"Do I get a choice?"
"Yes. You can watch it with me, or you can go to sleep and just hope that I don't… *do* anything to you while you're sleeping."
"What? Like what?"
His wicked grin spread again. He patted the small piece of bed next to him, but made no attempt to move from the center of the bed.
"Fine." I sighed resignedly. "But move over!"
He edged away from me and I sat down rather nervously, pulled my legs up and under me, and sat on my feet. This made me a little taller next to him, and made me feel slightly less helpless. Plus, it kept my feet warm. I felt my slightly-too-big pajama pants slide down a little and was grateful that the top came down to below my ass. I noticed Mulder looking down at me, amused at God knows what, and was glad I had left the bra on.
"You're wearing a bra still."
I crossed my arms in front of me defensively and grunted "mm hmm" while staring fixedly at the television. He got the message and we watched in silence for a bit, until I felt warmth at my back, and realized his arm was behind me. I looked up at him but he was gazing intently at the film. I chose to believe he was just propping himself up, although I couldn't ignore the feel of his warm arm brushing against the silk of my pajamas. Then I felt a tickle against the bare skin just above the elastic of my pajama pants. I jumped as electricity shot through me.
"Sorry" he said, as if it was accidental, but he did not move his hand from its position, flat on the bed beside my hip with his arm around my back. How had he got his hand *under* the pajama top without me noticing, 'accidentally'? Then I felt his thumb softly and deliberately brush the sensitive skin on my hip and I jumped again, and looked at him.
"What are you doing?" I gave him the full raised eyebrow.
He pouted like a child and made a muffled whining sound that might have been "*I* dunno".
We continued to sit there, with me pretending to watch the movie, but unable to concentrate on anything except the feeling of Mulder's arm around my back and his hand almost brushing my naked hip. I really ought to move his hand. But the deep down quaky feeling it gave me was too good to lose. Over the course of another minute I felt his hand creep up so that he was properly touching my naked skin, holding me around the hip. My pulse quickened further. I was frozen, unable or unwilling to tell him to stop. Possibly the lingering effects of the wine were dulling whatever sense I had of what was and was not appropriate. Or possibly the part of me that desperately wanted more was simply locked in battle with the part of me that knew it could never happen. But I still tried to make excuses for not moving away. Maybe he just needed companionship. Maybe.
Then his thumb started stroking lightly at the base of my ribcage, and my breathing hitched. My voice trembled as I said his name, but he kept right on. His hand slowly slid up so that it was flat against my ribs, the thumb still stroking, reaching the underneath of my bra at the top of each stroke. The skin there tingled and I realized I was fighting for breath, and my eyes were completely out of focus. This had to stop. I shifted myself, moving my feet out from under me and using this as an excuse to move further away from him, although with the small double bed, this was not far. Without taking his eyes from the screen, he put his hand back on the bed as if he was completely unaware that he had been touching me rather inappropriately. I tried to refocus on the movie, but then a shooting pain in my feet made me draw in my breath. Shit, Mulder had made me forget I was sitting on my feet, and they had lost all feeling, and now that the blood was returning to them, it HURT.
"Aah!" I cried, and started rubbing my feet.
"What is it?"
"Paresthesia." I replied. He looked confused and a little worried. "My feet went to sleep, I was sitting on them". I explained. Before I knew he had moved, he had grabbed both my feet and was rubbing the soles with his strong thumbs. The pins and needles sensation was acute and I grimaced as he massaged the tendons and rolled each toe between his fingers. It was not a pleasant sensation at first, but it achieved its objective; the sensation returned to my feet quickly and the pain decreased. After a while, Mulder was simply massaging my feet. When I did not have the pain to distract me, I was suddenly aware of my situation. With him holding both my feet, I was tipped back on the bed, holding myself up with both my hands behind me. My feet were in his lap, and suddenly I felt extremely vulnerable. I pulled my feet away, thanking him embarrassedly. He looked disappointed.
"That's much better, Mulder, thanks. I shouldn't have sat on them" As an alternative, I hugged my knees to my chest, which made my bra dig in at the back. Damn that was uncomfortable. Mulder seemed to notice.
"If it's hurting you, take it off!" he suggested with a wolf-like grin. Hell no, he wasn't getting a strip tease out of me. I shook my head, focusing on the screen. Then I felt his hand on my back, and some pressure, and suddenly the bra was loose. I was mildly surprised at the skill he had just displayed, but that did not make his actions excusable. Why did he feel like this was suddenly okay? Had overhearing my dream removed that invisible barrier between us that I had always taken for granted? I would need to make him understand quickly that this was NOT the case.
"God damn it Mulder you can't just do that!" I tried to reach around to do it up, but this thrust my unsupported chest out and watching the effect that had on his gaze I quickly gave it up. I crawled up the bed and sat facing away from him, berating him while I tried to pull the strap through the arm of my pajama top and over my elbow and hand. Luckily, the silk top was too big for me and I didn't have too much trouble, but I could feel Mulder's eyes on me during the whole process.
"I'm just having some fun" he complained.
"Not at my expense you don't! I would have thought you had more respect for me." This was what really hurt me; that he could treat our friendship so lightly, so casually. Did he really care that little? If I let him, would he use me to get his kicks, in spite of our years of trust and loyalty?
He looked shocked at my words, and more so at the obvious conviction behind them. "Of course I respect you! I didn't mean to be disrespectful! I really didn't, Scully. Please don't think that. I just... I'm just..." he made a frustrated noise. "I can't help it!"
"You've never had a problem before now!" I softened. He really did seem sorry. "I guess you really do need your nightly… activities, huh?" I said, half-smiling.
"Well I'm not going to lie to you, it's been a while since I went to sleep without…" he looked away, sheepishly, his voice low. "Damn it, I'm all wound up like a spring over here."
I was in such trouble. And yet I couldn't be mad at him. But I could pretend to be.
"Then you'll just have to get UNwound!" I said sternly. "I'm not sleeping in a bed with you behaving like this! I'll probably wake up naked."
That was a mistake. His eyes seemed to glaze over a bit. "Oh, Scully, you're really not helping…"
"Snap out of it, Mulder! You're acting like a teenager."
"That's not fair!"
"Okay look, I know it's hard for you…" *Shit* did I just say that? Foot in *mouth*.
I interrupted as he started to comment. "OKAY bad choice of words. But seriously, you have to get a hold of yourself!"
"Well that's generally the idea…" he smirked.
Shit I did it again! Will I ever get my foot out of my mouth... Blushing, I said hurriedly
"Okay okay. But hey, if that's what it takes, maybe you'll have to just, I dunno, get in the shower and… well… take care of things! Because otherwise you're sleeping on the floor." I couldn't believe we were discussing this. He looked incredibly uncomfortable.
"I can't just... I need something to… work with." Mulder never blushed, but his embarrassment was evident.
"You mean you need to watch some bimbo giving head." I said, sarcastically.
"No… No, I mostly close my eyes anyway." This was news to me. And instantly filled my mind with images of him touching himself, eyes closed, head back... I shook my head to clear the images as he continued; "For me it's always been more about aural stimulation…"
He noticed my expression, and hurriedly explained "Aural not oral! I mean, I get off on listening more than watching. Why do you think I ask you to read..." He trailed off, obviously mortified at what he'd let slip. There was a moment of silence while it sunk in.
"Oh no. You're kidding me. Oh God." Earlier in the car, when he'd asked me to read a casefile. When he'd said, jokingly, that he 'got off' on the sound of my voice. He hadn't been kidding? All those other times on long car rides when he had me read casefiles to him while he drove... had he just wanted to hear my voice? No, I couldn't hope he might actually…
"I'm sorry. I just… your voice drives me wild. Sometimes I can't resist just wanting to listen to you talk without having to pay attention to what you're saying."
My voice drives him… He really got turned on by… wait, what was that? 'Without having to pay attention'? He never paid attention? So that was it. He never actually heard a word. I'd wasted all that time reading to him, and I should have known it was completely unnecessary. He already knew the damn things by heart, having read and memorized them effortlessly. He probably only had me read to him so he didn't have to talk to me. Man did I feel stupid.
"I'm sorry. I can't help it. You have the world's sexiest voice."
And with that, all bad thoughts went out of my head. Wow. He thought… Really?
"Are you mad at me?" I realized I was just sitting there staring at him, and had not said a word in quite a while.
"Huh? No! I… I had no idea you… I just…" I didn't know how to express the shaky, nervous happiness that was going through me.
"You really didn't know how sexy your voice is?" he was gazing at me with something like tenderness mixed with anxiety in his eyes.
"I... It's not..." Seriously, I was out of words. I suppose that spoke volumes on its own. He opened his mouth, closed it again, opened it and seemed to start to say something and stop again.
"What is it, Mulder?" I said softly.
He spoke, hesitantly. "You could… I…" He was unable to look at me for once.
"I could what?"
He spoke so quietly I could only just hear him. "Um… Read to me…"
I took the case file and turned away from him, unable to believe I was really going to do this.
"Remember to put your fingers in your ears" his voice was nervous. I knew that this was probably the only way either of us were going to be able to get any sleep tonight, but there was no way I was going to be able to block out the mental images of what he was about to do. I wasn't sure I even wanted to.
"Scully?" he saw that I had not moved. I turned back to him. He looked incredibly vulnerable, and it made me want to pull his head to my chest and hold it there. This thought instantly brought up another mental image that stopped my response before it left my mouth.
"Scully? have you changed your mind?" He looked almost hopeful, but not really. He was as unsure about this as I was.
"No it's ok. Sorry." I couldn't help myself; I put my fingers in my ears only far enough so that they *looked* like they were in there. Taking a deep, slightly shuddering breath, I began to read from the file on my lap.
"January 31st, Okeham County, Iowa." Every nerve in my body was alive, trained on the area behind my back. Feeling slightly ashamed, I tried to focus on reading.
"The confidential nature of this case makes inquiries difficult…"
I could hear his breathing now. My blush deepened as I read.
"Seven victims are involved, with four deaths and three casualties, two of whom are able to give testimony."
Was he really getting off on this? Could he really block out the subject matter so completely? His breathing was becoming more labored, and he was making the bed tremble ever so slightly. Or was that me?
As I continued to read, his breathing started to speed up, and he made the softest of little grunts with each out-breath. The bed was shaking slightly more now, and it definitely wasn't me. Although I was feeling distinctly shaky myself. Had I really agreed to do this? It must be the wine. Must be… What the hell had I gotten myself into? My voice began to tremble a little as I continued.
"In short, after a cursory investigation it has become clear that the consequences of…" I paused for just a second. I thought I had heard my name being whispered ever so softly. Jesus. I forced myself to continue. He was drawing in deep, ragged breaths, unevenly, and I suddenly realized I had never been more aroused. How could I be getting off on this? God, was I sick? The bed suddenly stopped shaking, and I realized that while my mind had been wandering I had forgotten to keep reading. Shit.
"Don't stop, Scully" That voice, low and gravelly, melted something inside me, and my legs started trembling for real. I tried desperately to bring the words into focus and keep reading, but all my senses were focused on the man behind me. I was doing this to him. Me. It was my voice that was bringing those shuddering breaths from him. I swallowed very hard, but could not bring my voice under control. My own breathing was getting as ragged as his now, making my reading disjointed, and I clenched my fist into the bedsheet to try to bring myself back. I wasn't even pretending to stop up my ears anymore, but he didn't seem to notice or care.
"Fuck, Scully" he hissed through gritted teeth, although he must have known I could hear him now. He was losing his control and his inhibitions. I felt like my lower regions had turned completely to liquid. I desperately wanted to turn around and lose myself in him. Suddenly I felt his hand grab my shoulder and spin me around. In a second I was pushed forcefully back on the bed, and in another second his mouth was on mine. My head spun, the room spun, the bed was doing cartwheels. All my senses surged for dominance. He pushed his hands into my hair and kept up his assault on my mouth. My hands were against his chest, in what might have started as a feeble attempt to push him away, but which had never got off the ground. Instead I was running my hands over his hard chest, and up into his hair, and pulling him into me. All thoughts that this was a bad idea had been drowned by the flood of desire that had washed over me. I didn't care, I just had to have him.
His weight pressing me into the mattress. His hot, wet, mouth over mine. His hands, in my hair, cupping my neck, my waist, seemingly everywhere at once. His chest hair, rough against my tingling nipples. And the pure ecstasy flooding me at every deep, hard, thrust. Oh God…
"So, Scully, better than the dream?"
I couldn't even speak.
The End