Fight Night

It all began when Mulder decided to get rid of his video collection.

Scully had come over for a movie night and discovered the box sitting inside the door on her way into the apartment. When she asked about the contents, a question which she instantly regretted, he explained that he didn't need them anymore. Feeling guilty, she argued that she didn't want him to do that for her sake. He had tried to soften her by saying that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and the only one he wanted to be naked with, anymore. Instead of the desired effect, his words had made her bristle with their intensity and she had unthinkingly pled with him that he might wish he still had them some day if things didn't work out.

She hadn't really meant anything by her remark, but their relationship was still fairly new and, silly as it was, the lovesick teenager in her didn't want anything to jinx it. As it turned out, the biggest curse on them this evening seemed to be her big mouth. No matter how she backpedaled, she was unable to pacify him and movie night degraded into fight night.

Eventually, they fell into a moody silence, nothing resolved and both of them hurt. Scully was crushed that the evening had deflated the way it had. She was sure Mulder probably would've been glad if she just left, but she had come here to spend time with him and she had an irrational fear that, if she left now, she might not ever see him again. It was getting late and she suggested that they just get some sleep and revisit the subject later. When he just scoffed at her with a bitter snort, her sorrow turned to annoyance.

"Fine, Mulder, stay here. I'm going to bed," Scully sighed as she stood up and walked toward the bedroom. She started to close the door behind her, but decided to leave it open in a silent invitation for him to join her when he calmed down. She undressed slowly, taking the time to hang her clothes carefully, while she reflected on the evening's events. Their fight had been ridiculous and she wanted desperately for him to follow her into the bedroom and take it out on her body. She pulled back the comforter and crawled into bed. The sheets felt cold and uninviting, but they smelled like him and she couldn't leave them now. She snuggled her face into his pillow, breathing in the scent of his shampoo and let her mind wander to more comforting thoughts.

She thought about the last time they had argued, when he accused her of flirting with the lab technicians right in front of him, and how he had apologized with flowers. She had opened her door to find him holding an arrangement of the most beautiful red roses she had ever seen. They had almost broken the vase, jostling the coffee table with their furious display of forgiveness on the living room floor. She had actually cried when the petals withered the following week.

She thought about the crinkle in the corner of Mulder's eyes when he teased her about her diet and the healthy choices she tried to make. He tried to tempt her with junk food at every opportunity, and she indulged him because she knew he worried about her. She felt beautiful when he raked his lust-filled eyes over her body with approval, even when she was fully clothed. She wondered if he knew she watched her figure so closely because she only wanted to be worthy of such admiration.

She thought about the warmth of his body when she pressed herself against him. She loved the tickle of his whispered narration against her ear, the things he had planned for her when they were making love. She craved the feeling of his mouth kissing and tasting and biting all of her most private skin. They should be in this bed together, their scents and bodies mingling on the cold and uninviting sheets. She closed her eyes and snuggled deeper into the pillow, willing herself to relax.

Mulder sat stewing on the couch; if she wanted to walk away, that was fine with him. She had left the door halfway open and, in spite of his frustration, he listened to her sounds as she readied herself for bed. When he heard the sound of her settling herself onto the mattress, he had to fight every cell in his body that was screaming at him to go to her, but he'd be damned if he would admit defeat so easily. After several minutes, he was sure he heard her sigh in her sleep and his temper immediately flared. They had just argued, how could she sleep so easily? And why should she get to be the one relaxing in the bedroom, while he was out on the couch? This was his apartment, damn it! If anybody should get the bed, it should be him. Let her be the one to come crawling to him. The flame of his anger was reignited and his indignation propelled him off the sofa and down the hall. He didn't care if he had to wake her up. He didn't care if she was angry. He didn't care what she said or thought. He was right and he had every intention of letting her know that. He pushed the door open and looked to the bed where she lay. His eyes widened and his mouth hung open, his well-thought argument dying on his lips. He couldn't even remember why he had been upset. Whatever the reason, he was so, so wrong.

Scully was not asleep.

She was restless and trying to relax. She knew she wouldn't actually be able to fall asleep until they had resolved their argument and he came to bed. Her mother always said that couples shouldn't go to bed angry, and she and Mulder never had. Whether they expressed themselves with words or tender caresses or the fevered slide of sweaty skin, they fell asleep tangled and contented, but always settled, and never apart.

She tossed and turned, unable to find a comfortable position, as though her body knew instinctively that something very important was out of place. The very thought of being in Mulder's bed without him rankled and she flung the covers back and kicked them away. The cool air of the bedroom settled on her skin as she tried to diffuse her agitated state, but it was no use. Her undergarments felt binding against her skin and bulky against the fabric of the sheets. She sat up to unclasp her bra, then slid the straps down her shoulders and tossed it over the side of the bed in one motion. Lying back, she lifted her hips and slid her panties off, sending them to the floor, as well. Finally, she felt more at home in the bed and she let out a deep sigh of relief. Unconsciously, she brought her right hand up to stroke her belly, like her mother had always done after she'd had bad dreams as a little girl. As she lay there, petting herself, she heard Mulder begin to stir in the other room. She heard the springs of the sofa creak as he stood and the soft thump of his footsteps as he made his way toward the bedroom. He had probably used their time apart to form another clever counterpoint and was on his way to tell her all about it.

For a moment, Scully felt embarrassed. She felt vulnerable and a little silly at the thought of having an argument in the nude, but, judging by the sound of Mulder's step in the hall, there wasn't enough time to cover up and he would probably just be more upset if he walked in and caught her trying to hide her body from him.

She didn't want to fight anymore, anyway. She was more than ready to kiss and make up. She was willing to listen to him plead his case, fully prepared to admit that she was wrong, and beg his forgiveness, as long as he accepted her apology while he was buried deep within her body. He could grant her absolution with slow, tender strokes or celebrate his victory by pounding her into the mattress-she didn't care. But experience told her that that wasn't why he was coming in, so she quickly made the decision to offer him an olive branch.

Scully was not asleep.

She was lying on the bed, her body bare and exposed to him. Her eyes were closed and he decided she must not have heard him come in. He watched in utter shock as her right hand slowly trailed down the soft skin of her belly and disappeared between her parted legs. Her left hand came up to knead her breasts and she let out a soft sigh.

Mulder stood rooted to the spot, unable to move or speak, completely captivated by what he was witnessing. Since expanding their partnership to include a romantic facet, he and Scully had wasted no time, well, making up for lost time. They had made love in every room, on every surface, and against every wall in both of their apartments. As difficult as it was, they managed to keep their hands to themselves at the office, except on one very special occasion when he had gone to the lab to pick her up after work and found her alone and bent over at the microscope. Mulder was ecstatic to learn that, as long as they maintained a façade of propriety, she had no qualms about sharing her bed with him on the road. Yet, while he had done things with and to Dana Scully that made even his dirtiest movies seem chaste, he had never seen her pleasure herself.

She continued her work, her body eagerly responding to the touch of her own hands. He barely breathed, afraid that even the slightest sound from him would alert her to his presence and break the spell. He marveled at how quiet she was being as she touched herself in such a pleasurable way. Nothing was sexier to Mulder than his name on Scully's lips in the throes of ecstasy, and it had always been a source of great pride for him that he could make her call it out again and again with his attentions. It occurred to him that she might be trying to keep it down now so he wouldn't hear her from the other room; she must not have wanted him to know. He thought he should leave, but couldn't bring himself to follow through.

She tweaked her sensitive nipples and gently rocked her hips into her other hand. She gasped as her fingers found the swollen button they had sought and she fervently stroked the needy flesh. Her panting began to grown more ragged and the movements of her hands became more frenzied. As he looked on, her back arched off the mattress and she gasped and shuddered and writhed, but didn't cry out. He watched, riveted, as she rode the wave of her climax and he realized, to his horror, that he had never given a woman such long-lasting pleasure from even his very best efforts. If he had learned anything from his recently cast off video collection, it was that a woman always knew best how a woman wanted to be touched. Much to his chagrin, Mulder made a mental note to have Scully guide his hands in how best to prolong her pleasure, sometime soon.

Slowly, her breathing evened out and her body relaxed back onto the bed. Her right hand was still tucked away in that dark, secret place. Her head turned and she opened her eyes, dazedly, to look at him and, suddenly, he realized that she had been aware of his presence all along. He felt sorely ashamed and he wanted to run away and hide from her.

Then he didn't.

She reached her left hand out to him, a silent request that he should join her, and everything was all right. He stepped toward her and took her hand. The instant their skin made contact, all was forgiven. He took in the sight of her body, flushed and spread and waiting for his company. In contrast to Scully, Mulder undressed as quickly as he could, all of his garments landing in a rumpled heap at his feet. She watched him in amusement as she drew her hand from between her legs to rest on her abdomen. He stepped out of his boxers and toward the bed, settling himself in the warm embrace of her thighs.

"I'm sorry, love," Mulder whispered before placing a sweet kiss on the tip of her nose.

"Me, too," Scully said with an adorable pout. "I couldn't sleep."

Mulder tried to hide his smile under the guise of kissing her neck. "Looked like you found a pretty good way to entertain yourself."

Scully's eyes fluttered closed and she lifted her chin, baring her neck further to his ministrations. "That was for you. And it wasn't the same. I knew they weren't your hands touching me." With that, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a tight hug.

"How can I make it better?" Mulder asked, like he was soothing a distraught child.

"Don't leave me," she whispered and tightened her embrace on him.

There was a fear in her voice that told him she was truly concerned and he realized that she hadn't made her comment earlier to be hurtful to him at all. She was just as worried about losing him as he was of frightening her away. They were some pair.

"I'm not going to leave you, Scully," he whispered back, slipping his arms around her middle to pull her flush against his chest.

They clung like that for a long moment, reveling in the healing presence of one another. Mulder felt her slowly relax her grip on his neck and he moved his arms from beneath her to bring a hand to cradle her head and ease her back against the mattress. Her blue eyes sparkled with unshed tears as he gazed down at her.

Will you love me a little?" Scully asked in a small voice.

"Mmm," he hummed, lowering his mouth to kiss her neck. "I thought you'd never ask."

He kissed and nuzzled his way down to her breasts. When he parted his lips and sent his tongue out to taste the dusky peaks of her nipples she began to respond immediately, rocking her hips against him, seeking him out. He kissed and tasted and bit at her sensitive flesh, just as she had been craving, and it was exactly what she wanted, but not nearly enough. Scully reached her left hand down to his hip, urging him forward, and then sent her right hand to his shaft to guide him home.

Mulder positioned himself at her entrance, then slipped into her welcoming depths and buried himself to the hilt. They both sighed in relief as they paused for a moment to revel in the sensation of being joined. When he felt the gentle nudge of her hips against his, he knew she was ready and started to draw out. He slid in and out of her with smooth, deep strokes and soon she was moaning and writhing beneath him.

"I love you, Scully," he panted in her ear.

"I love you so much," she gasped in return.

With that, they tumbled over the edge together. Mulder collapsed atop her before quickly rolling away so he wouldn't crush her. Scully immediately followed him, snuggling into his side with one arm flung over his middle. Their breathing had barely returned to normal before they were both fast asleep.

Scully woke up early the next morning. She had to head back home to shower and change before her mother came over. As she was letting herself quietly out of his apartment, she picked up the box from inside the door. After arriving home and freshening up, she stuffed it in the back corner of her closet with a label that read, "Misc." She hoped he wouldn't be too upset with her for keeping his collection, but, in all honesty, she was a little curious and toyed with the idea of suggesting they watch one of the movies together sometime.

A knock sounded at the front door and startled her back to the present. That would be her mother coming to take her to mass.

She certainly had new sins to confess.

The End