TITLE: Simply Irresistible
AUTHOR: Duane Barry
RATING: NC-17 I guess, but nothing hardcore.
SPIOLERS: Irresistible, Tooms, S1 S2.
DISCLAIMER: I couldn't handle the responsibility...
SUMMARY: What happens after the screen fades to black?
FEEDBACK: Good or bad, I will be forever grateful. duane_barry
xxx
The moon was stunning that night, a huge luminescent pearl, glowing against a diamond studded backdrop. Mulder didn't give it more than a glance as he dragged himself out of the car and across the parking lot to the motel. His eyes watered from the pulsing headache behind them, coupled with the tight ache in his chest. The showdown with Donnie Pfaster threatened to draw muted tears to the surface.
He just wanted to get into his dark room, unzip his fly and forget the horrific image of that warped man with his hands on Scully.
Perhaps a questionable reaction in the eyes of some, but for Mulder it was the only way he could feel close to her. Scully held the power to hold the darkness at bay but she kept it locked up tight, by choosing to remain distant. He had been suffering from a fever of sexual frustration for roughly two years, it began with a trembling display of trust in a candlelit motel room and grew stronger with every breath he drew in her presence.
He shuffled through the door with his suit jacket and tie dangling over his arm, they landed softly on top of the small dining table as he moved further into the shadowy room. He pulled his shirt off over his head and threw it onto the couch, frustrated. For a mere two minutes he had been permitted to hold her; the moment she regained control it was back to business. There were cops to deal with,
statements to give, her minor injuries needed to be photographed and recorded as evidence. Scully had ordered him away, she didn't need him.
He spent two hours listlessly driving, their mutual terror on his troubled mind. She would hide this trauma, like all the other ones and the need to connect with her would drive him further toward insanity. Tonight's shattering event had delivered a final, fatal blow to his illusions of control, the heart knows what it wants even when the mind resists. His movements became more agitated as he fumbled with the buckle of his belt. His cock was already tingling with a miserable, overeager anticipation. He removed his holster and set the weapon on the desk. Mulder was toeing his shoes off when he sensed movement.
Someone lurked in the shadows behind him. He turned and squinted into the dim room. Through the curtains over the bed, a single shaft of silver light cut the room in half. Before he could reach for his gun the figure stepped out of the shadows and into the beam of moonlight. Her hair was dark and slick, wet from a recent shower. He found himself struck by the raw emotion in her pale round eyes. Her arms were crossed protectively over her torso, the red polish on her toe nails sparkled in contrast to the white terry cloth robe that hung to her shins. The tightness in his chest intensified.
"Scully, what are you doing here in the dark?" The concern was clear in tone and body language, but he made no move toward her. He feared scaring her away. Scully tightened her arms around herself impossibly further, her lower lip trembling. "Two years ago I came to you with marks on my body."
Mulder nodded, he remember that night in vivid detail.
"I didn't know you then, I had no reason to trust you, but you made me feel safe."
Stiff and slow she released her death grip and lowered frozen hands to the belt of her bathrobe.
"So much has happened since then, I know you now... and I trust you completely. You're the only one who cares enough to look for me when I can't be found."
The memory assailed him; the candle light had cast shadows over her body, accentuating the alluring curves and smooth skin to leave an eternal vision of her femininity burned in his brain. The tingling in his cock became a low throb as it grew hard. Mulder's eyes flicked to her shaking fingers, he wasn't sure if he could handle that robe opening, certainly not as casually as the first time. "I want to show you these marks tonight... I need you to make me feel safe again."
Those shaking little fingers began to untie the belt and Mulder's head started to swim. He had to stop this. As much as he wanted her to open up to him, share her pain with him, he was fearful of his own desire. If he lost control and laid a finger on her he could never forgive himself, she'd already endured one pervert tonight. The last time she did this, she was asking for a friend, and here she was again needing the same thing. Mulder held up his hand, signalling for her to stop. "Wait, I don't think that's a good idea."
Pain sliced through her and he felt it as clearly as he read it in her eyes. Her hands faltered. "You... You don't?"
Mulder shook his head sadly. He felt guilty for kicking her while she was down; adding to her grief because he wasn't equipped to handle being in love with her from afar. Tears began to well up in her eyes and she closed the lids against them, hiding them from observation. She was broken, and sometimes broken people lower their standards to make desperate, self destructive choices. So weakened by Pfaster's attempt to reduce her to nothing but a souvenir in his twisted collection; she would do anything, even rip her own heart out, to seek the shelter of Mulder's touch for a mere few hours.
"I respect the value you place on your work and the level to which you prioritize it above all else. I'm not asking for a commitment,"
Her eyes opened, there were no more tears, just the same pure,
exposed, agony that tightened her voice. "Just one night. No questions asked. No strings attached. Can you give me that"
Wait, what?
Obviously, they weren't on the same page here. Mulder realized he'd misread her intention, but the delight was short lived. The magnitude of her words hit him full force and now he was the one fighting the urge to cry. After two years with him she was convinced that he was unattainable; unwilling to share more of himself with her. Looking back, perhaps he was a little guilty of fanning the flames when that idea first sparked in her head, but it wasn't due to a lack of interest. When she first arrived in the basement he was still dealing with the fallout of Diana leaving, couple that with the nature of Scully's assignment to the x-files and he felt justified in his reluctance to let her get too close.
But that was ancient history, and it was time to set the record straight.
His surprise prevented him from responding right away, and now he'd taken too long to answer her. He could hear her breathing grow ragged as she misinterpreted the silence. Scully suppressed her grief and humiliation, she didn't want him to feel guilty for having seen it.
This would have an effect on their partnership and for that she felt truly ashamed. They could salvage what was left in the morning, for now she needed to get out of there before she caused any more damage by falling apart in front of him. "I'm so sorry Mulder, this is completely inappropriate and I've obviously embarrassed you... Just forget it ever happened."
Suddenly, she stepped out of the moonlight and her devastated form retreated from him.
"Scully, wait."
The door opened, streetlight illuminating her for a moment."I'm sorry, I'll see you tomorrow," she attempted a smile but all that came out was a watery grimace. The door clicked shut leaving him alone in the dark. As he stood there shocked and confused, Scully tore into her own room and pushed the door closed behind her. With her back to the wall she slid down to the floor, her hands cupped over her face in horror.
She finally allowed his rejection to pierce her heart and cried out as the pain began to flood her chest. This was worse, way worse, than never knowing where their flirtation might lead. She was going to have to face him every day, knowing that he would never want her, not even for one night, no matter how often or deeply she proved her worth.
Her face burned against her hands, tears were leaking out from between her fingers and dripping onto her bent knees. She buried her face between them, wrapping her arms around her head protectively as she began to sob. In the last two years she'd been shot at, attacked violently in own her home, abducted, bound and gagged, forced into trunks of cars and subjected to god knows what by god knows who.
Through all of it, she believed Mulder would catch her when she inevitably stumbled in his dark world. How could she have gotten it so wrong?
Too absorbed in her own grief to notice; Mulder entered her room. He flipped the light on and found her huddled in the corner, curled in on herself. "Jesus Scully," Mulder wrapped a hand around each of her arms and yanked her to her feet, "C'mere."
She pushed against his chest, but nothing happened. The grief was all consuming and she had no strength left, he took advantage of her weakness and pulled her into a fierce hug. He had one arm around her waist, anchoring her lower half to him, the other arm held her upper back pinned, his hand cupping the back of her head and pressing her to his chest.. "Nothing you ever say to me is inappropriate, you hear me? The truth is always appropriate, especially when it's coming from you."
His hot breath blasted her ear as she struggled and he clutched her tighter, pressing his erection against her. "You feel that?" He pushed against her again, "I've had a hard on for you since our first case. I'd cut my arm off for a chance to touch you." Her struggles ceased, but she remained stiff in his arms, her shoulders hitching as she wept. Inspired, he continued. "You can't dump something like that on a guy and not give him a minute to catch up, you mention sex and it's all white noise up there."
He butted the top of her head softly with his chin and she sagged against him, crying into his chest. Mulder slid his hand from the back of her head to her jaw. He tilted her face up, forcing her to look him in the eye, an echo of earlier in the evening when he held her in Pfaster's house. He wiped the tears from her cheeks as she tried to avoid his gaze.
"You know, you're a really crappy saleswoman."
When she finally dragged her gaze past his chin she found a warm smile and loving eyes. Scully attempted speech and was embarrassed to find the only thing that emerged was a hoarse croak, "I am?"
Mulder dragged her arms from her sides, forcing her to wrap them around his waist. He buried his face in her hair and they embraced, with hearts skidding and thudding against the other. "You're pitching to the guy who nearly killed himself hanging from a cable car to get to you, the guy who was going to kill himself if you didn't come out of that coma... And you only offer me one night? Sorry Scully, no deal."
The upward tilt of her face was voluntary this time. "I thought you would prefer it that way."
She searched his eyes, seeking the truth behind his words, hoping against hope this was the moment he would finally kiss her. His mouth drew slowly, enticingly closer. He gripped her chin softly in his hand, depressing it with his thumb so that her lips parted for him.
Before he made the final descent he whispered, "You got it so wrong."
He caught her mouth beneath his. That generous lower lip that caught her eye so many times over the last two years moved over hers, stealing luscious, nipping kisses. His arms tightened around her, deepening the kiss, his tongue caressed the shiny insides of her lips, wordlessly begging entry.
She complied, parting her lips. His tongue circled hers dominating it, exploring her, tasting her mouth. Her arms slipped around his neck moving closer even as he pulled her toward the bed. She landed softly on the mattress, sucking on his tongue as he bent over her, he moaned into her mouth. She reclined, lips parting only to connect with his over and again. Her hands were deep in his hair, as he unknotted the belt and parted her robe.
He noted her dilated eyes, the flush in her cheeks, her breasts firm and round, straining toward him as she breathed heavily. He wanted nothing more than to bury himself inside of her for the first time,
but between the car accident, her numerous battles with Pfaster and the tumble down the stairs she was covered in huge, hideous, red and purple bruises. Mulder gently kissed each and every one with tears in his eyes, folded her robe back around her and tied the belt securely.
"M-Mulder?"
He looked down into uncertain blue eyes. "I want you so much, but I can't do this tonight. You're hurt, I can wait." He stretched out on the bed and gathered her in his arms, "We've got plenty of time," he kissed her nose. "I'm not going anywhere." The sentiment curled around her intimately and for the first time since she saw Pfaster in her rear vision mirror, she felt safe.
The emotional roller coaster finally jumped track and hurtled off into space and before Scully could snatch the words back they were floating in the air between them, "I love you."
Mulder's eyes bore into hers, she'd added gasoline to the fire and the flames threatened to engulf both of them. "You're playing dirty,
Scully. I'm not giving you what you want..."
He caught her lips again and delivered a desperate, searing kiss.
"Even if I love you too."
END
Authors notes: I thought I was done with the X-Files. After the dissatisfaction of seasons 8 and 9 and disdain for IWTB, I drifted away from it, moved abroad for awhile, basically I got a life... And then the reboot was announced. I posted my very first fic in Dec 2015 on a very misguided shippery high. Since the reboot I have dusted off the old DVD's and immersed myself in the world of XF. This is not good, its like being an addict- you never really recover. Anyway,
here I am with another fic because I rediscovered Irresistible is one of the greatest episodes of all time... And rehab is for quitters ;-)
duane_barry /pre