Timeline: A few weeks after 'all things' and through the recovery period from 'Brand X'.
Author's Notes: I began this as a simple smut biscuit, but it decided it wanted to be more and got a complete rewrite. I've been wanting to write something more angst-y and this ended up being the perfect vehicle once I got past a severe case of writer's block when I approached the "resolution" part.
Summary: After 'all things' Scully distances herself from their new sexual relationship and Mulder, and this doesn't go over well with him.
Music notes: I listened to Breaking Benjamin, Within Temptation, and Lacuna Coil (yes, this 47-year-old grandmother of 7 listens to goth rock. Go figure; I like what I like) for the angst scenes, and Goo Goo Dolls, Sarah McLaughlin, and Evanescence for the naughty/fun parts. In the part where I mention "Nights on Broadway", that song really did start playing on my iTunes Party Shuffle playlist totally at random and when I looked up the lyrics, I was shocked that they fit so well in that part. Talk about serendipity!
This is the R rated version of an NC-17 story. The original can be found on my website.
Yielding Distance
by Suzanne L. Feld
Rated R for sexual situations
"Mulder, there's nothing to talk about and especially not here where someone could overhear us."
"How can you say that?!" He was aghast although he did remember to keep his voice down. Not only were they in a public place, they were surrounded by as many workers from the Hoover building as strangers, and that was one reason he'd decided to bring it up here. "Nothing to talk about? You've got to be kidding me!"
Her eyes were blue steel glaring into his. "If you keep this up I'm going to get up and walk out and to hell with what anyone might think. We are not having this discussion here and now."
"Will we ever?" he said bitterly, gazing down into his untouched bowl of chili. The sour cream and cheese had nearly melted but despite the aroma he had no appetite, nor had he had one for days. "Scully, if we don't get this..."
She put her fork down and scooted her chair back, glaring across the table at him, and he clamped his mouth shut. After a moment or two she pulled back up to the table and went back to her salad without a word, averting her eyes. How in the hell could she eat, he wondered, with the haze of tension hanging over them like a cloud? But then that was the problem. She seemed totally unaffected by that night two weeks ago, whereas his whole life had changed. And not for the better, apparently, he thought darkly as he stared down into the melting white blob and pale yellow flakes on a bed of congealing grease. How in the hell can she just ignore what's between us now? Blow it off like it means nothing, like each time was a one-night stand with a stranger? I have got to think of some way to get through to her.
Since their first night of passion two weeks ago he'd only managed to get her in bed three times and each time had been like starting over, though once they got going it was the most incredible, mind-bending, deeply emotional experience of his life—and that was in addition to the physical part, which was not inconsiderable. And he simply could not, would not believe it wasn't the same for her after the way she acted in his arms. There was no goddamn way she could let go and be like that with him and not have the same deep feelings for him that he had for her—or could she? She wasn't talking, so he had no way to tell.
He found it very telling that she'd made several excuses to come to his apartment while rebuffing his attempts to go to hers, and every time she'd come over they'd ended up in his bed.
They needed to be discreet and not trumpet their new relationship to the skies, so other than today he'd pretended that nothing had changed between them when they were outside his apartment. Apparently they'd both been doing an excellent job of that since, as far as he could tell, no one suspected that the partners were now more than partners.
The biggest thing that bothered him, by and far, was her lack of declaration of love for him while they were in bed whereas he couldn't seem to help babbling on and on about how much he loved her pretty much the whole time. He hadn't come out and asked her if she loved him--he was too afraid of the answer--but he refused to believe that she didn't. There was no way two people could share the mind-shattering intensity that they did and not be in love with one another. How could she be such a totally different person once he broke through her defenses, then rebuild them against him afterward time and time again?
And most of all, how long could this go on before he broke?
***
Back at the office Scully returned to the counter in the back of the office where she'd been working before they'd stopped for lunch and he sat heavily behind the desk, staring unseeingly at the heaps of files spread across it. They were searching for a single keyword in all the X-Files they'd investigated in the seven years of their partnership but he was afraid that there was enough missing due to the fire of '98 that what they were looking for was no longer there. And on top of that he couldn't concentrate for shit thanks to Scully's indifference to how he was feeling.
For the last couple of weeks he'd tried to give her the space she seemed to need, acting like nothing was unusual or different between them outside of their trysts but it got harder and harder as the days went by. Last night had been the final straw; after almost two hours of intense lovemaking and just a few minutes of cuddling afterward she had simply crawled out of his bed, washed up, dressed, and left with a simple "good night, see you tomorrow"--not even a goddamned kiss good-bye. He hadn't felt so bad since Samantha's abduction and been so upset that he'd gone for a long run after she left, and had gotten maybe an hour of restless sleep before the alarm had gone off.
I shouldn't have let her leave, he thought as he stared unseeingly down at the open file before him. And why is it that we've only ever made love at my place, never hers? Every time I've offered to go to her apartment, she ends up at mine and in my bed. Is it because she'd have a lot more trouble getting rid of me afterward?
His eyes, previously unfocused and bleary, now sharpened and he glanced over at her, but she appeared to be totally engrossed in the file she was paging through. That's it, she knows I won't just leave if she asks, and for whatever reason she's distancing herself from me and needs to leave right afterward. That's all right, two can play that game. . .
***
She didn't get home until after eleven o'clock even though it was a weeknight. Mulder was in his car far enough down the block that she shouldn't be able to see him but facing her building where he could see everyone who went in and out. He'd arrived a few minutes after nine and by now was ready to rip someone a new asshole. This was worse than a regular stakeout not only because he was by himself without anyone to spell him for bathroom breaks, but also because he was driving himself crazy wondering where she was. He hadn't wanted to follow her straight from work since he knew she worked out at the gym on Wednesday nights and usually got home no later than nine-fifteen. When she wasn't home by ten he'd been tempted to go by the gym, but was afraid he'd miss her along the way. And he was going to have it out with her tonight one way or another, no matter what came of it, because he knew he couldn't go on like this anymore.
He watched her walk from her car to the front stoop looking around alertly while digging in her jacket pockets, wearing what looked to be a black leotard with a pair of pale grey sweatpants pulled up over it and her cross-trainers. Her hair was up in a high ponytail and she was carrying a gym bag; it looked like she hadn't showered or changed at the gym but come home in her workout clothes. That made him feel a little better; if she was seeing someone else then it was someone she wasn't out to impress, and a very unlikely scenario. Still, just watching her from a hundred yards away caused a physical reaction in him, his body stirring as he thought about the feel of that strong, slender body against his no matter whether it was on the top, bottom, or in front. Jesus, what was it that she did to him?!
After watching her go inside, Mulder decided to give her half an hour to shower and clean up before he went up. Since he knew where she was and the odds were good that she wouldn't leave again, he darted into a nearby alley to piss before he exploded.
It was the longest half-hour in his personal history, and when it was over he all but leaped from the car despite his reluctance to force this talk with her. He knew damn well that this confrontation could end both their friendship and their partnership, not to mention the incredible sex they'd been having--when he could coerce her into it. But none of it was worth anything if she didn't feel the same about him that he did for her; he simply could not live like that. He had twice before, with the only other two serious relationships in his life, and he wasn't about to do it again.
When he knocked on her door and she didn't answer, he started to yell but then realized that he didn't hear or sense her nearby. Had she gone to bed already? He hadn't checked to make sure her lights were on, but it was a possibly. What the hell, he had a key and he'd already planned to use it if she wouldn't let him in, so why not now?
He unlocked the door and carefully eased it open, looking to see if she'd put the chain on, but it wasn't there. That in itself told him something important; the only times he'd seen her not use the security chain was when she knew he was coming by and might need to use his key.
As soon as he was inside he heard the shower running and almost turned around and left. He didn't want to confront her when either of them had the upper hand—and he would being dressed against her nakedness--because that would almost certainly lead to nothing more than more strife. He knew how important it was for her to be strong, in control, equal to the men she knew. He had no problem with that, but then it occurred to him that she wasn't exactly fighting fair so why should he? On the other hand, Scully didn't respond well to strong-arm tactics, so instead of waiting for her to get out he decided to match her current state of undress.
He went to her bedroom and stripped, then slowly pushed the bathroom door open saying, "Scully, it's me, Mulder," knowing that he couldn't completely sneak up on her or he'd probably end up gut-shot.
"Mulder?" her voice was startled, shocked. "What in the...?"
He pulled back the shower curtain a few inches to find her standing under a cool spray, wet hair dark and slicked back on her head, wide blue eyes staring at him as she wiped water from her face. He noted that her eyes were reddened, but it went by with little thought as he took in the rest of her. As always, the sight of her slender, perfect body went straight to his heart and then sank in lower, bringing all parts of his body to full consciousness. Her eyes dipped, and the alarm faded from her face to be replaced with a frown. "Mulder, I don't--" was as far as she got before he reached in and lifted her out of the old claw-footed tub by her waist and enfolded her in his arms, their bare bodies coming together with a shock that nearly took his breath away. When he had her against him he took her face in his hands and lowered his mouth to hers, finding hers hot and open beneath his. She kissed him back with all the passion he showed for her, her arms going around his waist to pull him closer, and somewhere in the back of his mind he couldn't figure out how she could touch him like this and be so cold afterward. But that soon faded to be replaced with nothing more than thoughts of the woman in his arms, her damp, cool silky skin warming under his hands, her body pressed tightly to his even when he loosened his grip on her.
"The bed," she murmured against his mouth when they came up for air. "I'm freezing."
He realized that he hadn't thought to grab a towel for her, and her wet hair was dripping down her back. "Sorry," he murmured, reaching up and grabbing the thick yellow towel that was tossed over the circular curtain rod. He rubbed her entire body with it, bringing warmth to the surface, then handed it to her to do her hair.
"Mulder, what are--" she began, but he leaned down and scooped her up, covering her mouth with his again, determined not to let her talk yet. If she did decide to break it off with him or do something equally horrible when he forced her to talk, he was going to give her one hell of a memory to take with her.
In the bedroom he found her bed already turned down and set her on it, saying, "Get under the covers, Scully, I don't want you to catch a cold."
She didn't argue, tossing the towel at him and crawling beneath the top sheet and peach satin comforter. He hurried back into the bathroom, throwing the towel in the general direction of the hamper and turning off the now-cold water, then striding back into the bedroom with determination, half-afraid she'd be up and out of the bed and dressed. But no, she was still cuddled beneath the covers, her damp head on a pillow. "Mulder, there's a bottle of cabernet sauvignon in the cupboard above the fridge, why don't you get that and a couple of glasses?" she said in a soft, husky voice that he only heard from her now, when they were intimate.
Still naked he hurried to do her bidding, almost terrified that she'd be up and dressed before he got back. But no, she was still there when he returned with the requested items, setting them on the end table. "Did you open the bottle?" she asked softly with amusement in her voice. "Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere."
That calmed him a bit. "Be right back." Since this wasn't what he'd planned he felt a bit at odds, but was also relieved to know she wasn't going to fight him. Back into the kitchen, find her corkscrew, get the damn thing out without breaking it (for once, thank God, he didn't end up with pieces of the cork inside the bottle) and then back into the bedroom. She was now reclining against the pillows, her shoulders to the tops of her breasts visible, slender arms outside the covers. She raised her brows at him, looking pointedly at the wine bottle in his hands, and he got it. With a rather sheepish grin he poured, then handed her one of the half-full wide-bowl wineglasses before climbing into the bed under the covers beside her.
Her skin was still cool to the touch and he put his arm around her and gathered her close, saying, "This isn't a sleeping bag, but the principle is the same."
Scully chuckled as she cuddled to him, pressing close to his side and twining her legs with his as he half-reclined against the pillows she'd piled against the headboard. "You've been waiting all this time to say that, haven't you?"
He smiled down at her; despite his earlier anxiety and depression his mood was now lighter and his heart at ease. It was hard to stay upset when he had the woman of his dreams, the only woman he'd truly ever loved, in his arms. Taking a sip of the rich red wine and swirling it around in his mouth before swallowing, he leaned down to kiss her deeply. The taste of her and the wine combined was headier than anything he had ever experienced before. "Yes, and it was well worth the wait," he breathed against her lips.
Her head was tilted back against his upper chest, her damp hair spread out across his shoulder. "It was," she agreed softly, then took a sip from her glass and reached up to kiss him.
Their lips and tongues stroked leisurely across each other's, feeling, reveling, sharing the heady taste of the wine. Breathing began to increase, bodies straining to be closer, and almost before he knew it Mulder had removed both wineglasses to the bedside table and was pressing her back into the mattress, pushing the pillows away. "God, I need you, Scully, I need to be inside you," he said huskily as he shifted his body over hers, moving between her spread legs, already pressing for entrance.
This was the first time they'd moved onto the main event without a good amount of foreplay but after the deep emotions of the last few days Mulder knew he needed this closeness with her as fast as he could get it. The way she was moaning and writhing beneath him gave him a pretty good idea that she didn't mind the lack of usual foreplay. Her head was thrown back, arms around his shoulders holding him down to her, legs thrown over his calves, breasts pressing his chest as she took deep breaths, almost panting. He had his arms under her shoulders, both hands gripping the back of her head through her soft damp hair, licking and sucking on her arched neck almost without realizing it.
"Keep the covers up around us," he murmured into her ear, and her arms moved down to pull the sheet and comforter up around his shoulders. "Now we're in our own little cocoon," he breathed as he began to move slowly.
Her only answer was a breathless moan that might have been his name, then she turned her head and slathered her lips over his shoulder and along his collarbone, biting softly and sucking, licking the sweat that was already gathering. Her legs moved higher and already Mulder felt like he could lose himself in her. Yeah, a ten-minute quickie would be a great last time, he thought unintentionally, and that acted as a dash of cold water to bring him back to himself instead of being lost in the haze of erotic sensation. He didn't miss so much as a stroke, but his mind was clear and his body no longer so close to the edge. This was not going to be their last lovemaking if he had anything to do with it, but just in case he was going to give it everything he had, hold back nothing of what he felt for her.
She was writhing beneath him, meeting him stroke for stroke, arms now around his ribs with her hands running up and down his back which was already slick with sweat. The covers were slipping back but he didn't ask her to pull them back up; it was already getting far too warm for him and he was sure that she was no longer cold. And, as he always did with her whether or not he wanted to he was talking, murmuring in her ear between kissing and licking at anything he could reach. "God, Scully... love you... you feel amazing... ah, you make me crazy, I can't get enough, you're so beautiful, so sexy... I love you so damn much..."
He had never talked to a woman like this during sex before, never wanted to, and now he couldn't stop himself. Part of it was pouring out his feelings to her, which he'd never trusted to anyone else before, and part was feeling and seeing how it affected her. He kissed up her neck and across her cheek to her mouth, whispering one last "I love you" before covering her lips with his. Her mouth was hot and sweet, her tongue working against his, their teeth clashing but barely noticed.
After some time they broke the kiss, gasping for breath. Mulder lifted himself off of her and onto his braced arms, her legs sliding down as he changed the angle of their bodies. He loved watching her writhe beneath him, her hair spread out across the pillow as she rolled her head back and forth, eyes half-closed, swollen lips parted as she panted for breath. "Let me on top," she finally said, her eyes smoky and lips shiny from his kisses. "I am going to make you as crazy as you make me."
He laid back and stuffed one of the few remaining pillows beneath his head as she swung a leg over his flat belly, then reached over and picked up a glass of wine and took a sip and held it to his mouth. Mulder sipped from the rim where her mouth had been, eyes holding hers as she tipped the glass back then leaned down and kissed him deeply. "Jesus, you taste better than the wine," she whispered as she sat up and set the glass back on the nightstand.
"And I'm not as expensive," he cracked, smiling up at her, unable to resist even if it broke the mood. But she grinned right back, leaning down to kiss him again. She sat up, head thrown back and hands on his thighs behind her. Mulder could only gaze up at her, his hands resting loosely on her hips, enjoying the view, not wanting to control her movements so he could see what she'd do. The thought occurred that this would be the time to stop, confront her, force her to talk, but he simply couldn't do it. Not just because it would interrupt the best sex of his life so far, but because it would interrupt her pleasure and that was all he really cared about at the moment.
She leaned forward, bracing her hands on the balls of his shoulders as she rose over him, and began to move. Her hair, mostly dry and wavy, hung swaying around her face, low moans issuing from her rosebud mouth. There was no way he could resist running his hands up and down her body, reveling in the feel of her strong muscles working beneath the silky skin as she made love to him, eyes half-closed yet holding his. He gazed back at her, knowing he was showing everything he felt on his face and not really caring.
Above him Scully suddenly threw her head back, hands moving to his flat belly, a long, low, breathy groan issuing from her parted lips. He almost lost it then, but didn't want it to be over yet and, gritting his teeth, managed to hang on as she collapsed bonelessly on top of him.
He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, kissing the top of her head which was all he could reach as her face was buried in his neck. "Roll over, Scully, I'm not quite done with you yet."
She let out a breathy moan and kissed his neck, then sat up and brushed her hair out of her face with one hand. Her eyes were still soft and dazed. "Jesus, Mulder, you're really making up for lost time, aren't you?"
He couldn't help but laugh. "Not wasting a moment--I've waited too long for you as it is," he agreed.
Some time later he curled around her, both of them panting, bodies sheened with sweat and nearly boneless in the aftermath. "God, I see stars when I'm with you," he murmured into her hair, wrapping himself around her from behind. He had one arm around her waist, holding her tight, determined that she wasn't going to leave this bed like she had his immediately afterward last night. She shuddered at his words, clasping the arm he had around her waist with both hands, but didn't say anything.
They lay spooned together, breathing slowly returning to normal. As he came back to himself Mulder wanted to talk to her, yet he was loathe to break the peaceful mood in the calm afterward. The way she'd reacted when he'd tried to talk to her before would be a real mood-breaker if she did it again, and he couldn't bring himself to do that now. He inhaled the rich musky scent of her thick hair, rubbing his face on the softness of it. Maybe this would be enough, he thought hazily as he fought the pull of sleep. Perhaps he could live with suspecting that she didn't love him the way he loved her, the occasional sex when he could entice her into it... but probably not, he forced himself to admit.
What he really wanted to do right now was roll over, pin her down with his body on hers, and force a talk to clear the air between them. But over forty-eight hours with no real sleep took its toll and before the thought had completed itself he was out like the proverbial light.
***
He woke wrapped around her with a body that apparently had no idea that it'd already had sex twice in the last twenty-four hours. Fortunately her body seemed to agree with his and there was no grumbling about waking her up.
"God, Mulder, I've never had a lover who satisfied me the way you do," she said as they lay together in the semi-darkness afterward.
This was the time and he knew it. He tightened his arm around her and said in a soft yet firm voice, "Scully, I want to--"
To his surprise, she covered her arm with his and squeezed, nodding her head. "I know, Mulder, we need to talk. I'm sorry I've put it off so long but I'm just not as good at discussing my feelings as you are. If you can give me some time, I'll try to be more open and not as... abrupt, or closed off, to you. Just don't push me and give me the space I need, and I'll try. Will that work?"
Relief swept over him like a warm ocean wave in August. "Of course it will, Scully. I really don't want to force you to talk, you're just worrying the hell out of me when you don't talk to me at all."
She turned her head and opened her mouth but before she could speak the alarm on her bedside table began to shrill and they broke apart, Scully climbing over him to silence it. She stood, then turned to face him where he sat on the edge of the bed. "Since you have to go home to shower and change, I'll go in first and see if I can deflect anyone who asks for you. Just don't take too long, okay?"
He grinned up at her. "If I'd known that all it took was sex to get you to cover for me I'd have nailed you a lot sooner, Scully."
She grinned back over her shoulder as she headed for the bathroom, stark raving naked and clearly unconcerned about it. "If I'd known how good you are in bed I'd have nailed you a lot sooner myself, Mulder."
She disappeared behind the closed door and he closed his eyes, savoring her words. That meant more to him than all the love-words murmured during sex that he could imagine, and as he got up to get dressed he felt more hopeful than he had in weeks.
***
But it wasn't to last. That day they were called in on the Morley case, and by the evening after he was in the hospital. Though they didn't have sex or spend the night together for nearly two weeks after the tobacco beetle incident, Scully did make a point of dropping by and checking on him frequently though she never stayed long nor invited him to her place, nor did he ask for either one. She'd asked him for space and time, and he was giving it to her.
Shortly before they left work on his first day back, Mulder couldn't resist looking over at her and saying in his gravelly voice, ignoring the shards of pain that still shot through his throat on certain notes, "So what're you doing tonight, Scully?"
She shrugged into her London Fog. "Not much. Why?"
"Just wondered if you wanted some company," he rumbled as nonchalantly as he could manage. "I could get some take-out and rent a movie--"
She turned to smile at him as she picked up her briefcase. "How about we order in a pizza and watch one of my movies?" she said. He noticed something a little odd about her smile but couldn't place it; it was so good to see her smiling that he didn't want to question it. "I promise, no 'Steel Magnolias' or 'Crimes of the Heart'. See you at seven?"
He chuckled and nodded. "Deal. Make my half pepperoni and mushroom and I'll bring the drinks."
"No alcohol, remember," she admonished, turning to look at him from the doorway. "You're still on medication, and don't you dare stop taking it."
He crossed his heart and nodded, having had enough talking for the time being. He wouldn't be able to take his pain pills until he got to her place as they were too strong for him to be comfortable driving after taking, and there was no chance he'd stop taking them yet. He listened until the clack of her heels faded away then got up and, wincing, walked down to the water cooler near the elevator and drinking several of the small Dixie cups full to soothe his sore throat. If he had to go one more day without touching her he was going to go crazy, but on the other hand he wasn't sure his throat could handle the type of sex they usually had. Well, one way or another he'd find out.
***
The movie she chose was "The Client", which cheered him immensely; he'd seen it before and was happy to view it again rather than any number of weepy-teary films he knew she owned. Despite her promise of no chick-flicks, he wasn't sure what else she had as that was pretty much what was in the VCR those times he'd snooped to find out what she was watching. To his relief the tomato sauce and pepperoni on the pizza didn't bother his throat too much and when it did, the fruit juice smoothie he'd brought soothed it.
They cleaned up the dinner dishes, such as there was, after the movie ended and as he was tossing the pizza box in the trashcan, Mulder realized that he had no idea what came next. Being at her place was a new experience for him; at his apartment he hadn't hesitated to simply grab her, but here it felt different disregarding the shower incident weeks ago. Then he'd been too keyed up to think all that much about what he was doing, unlike now. Should he just turn to her and say, "In the bedroom—now, woman!" or waggle his eyebrows and ask if she had the honeymoon suite all ready for them? Neither was a good choice, he knew, but he was honestly at a loss as to what to do other than be a smartass.
Luckily she took the worry away as she tossed the folded dishtowel over the edge of the sink. Without a word, she walked over and took him by the hand and led him to the bedroom, pushing him down on the edge of her bed and standing in front of him. "The doctor me isn't sure if this is a good idea yet, but the woman can't resist," she said, slowly unbuttoning the pale grey sweater she was wearing. "You've got to promise me, Mulder, that if this gets to be too much for your throat or lungs you'll let me know so we can stop. There are other things we can do that aren't as strenuous if need be—we won't go without tonight."
Her warning was spoken in such a soft, sexy, husky voice that he barely heeded it at first, then began to wonder what "other things" could be. He'd taken his pain pills when he'd arrived and was feeling pretty good, glad that they didn't cause drowsiness even if they did tend to make him feel a little loopy. Still, he'd eaten well and that should help, he thought as he peeled off his t-shirt. And, God, he'd missed this too.
They didn't touch as they undressed themselves, watching each other closely. When she removed her bra Scully made a point of rubbing around her breasts, which caused him to stop in the middle of unbuckling his belt to watch avidly, then grin up at her as she reached down to the button on her jeans. But neither spoke as they continued to remove clothing, Mulder lifting himself just enough to slide down his jeans and boxers. She stepped back when he reached down to remove his sweatsocks and when he looked up again she was totally naked in front of him, just standing there smiling with her hands on her hips. He put his arms out, she stepped into them, and the next thing he knew they were entangled on her bed face-to-face, kissing each other breathless like they hadn't been together in weeks—which they hadn't. She tasted strongly like mint with undertones of Diet Coke and pizza, and he realized that she must have popped a breath mint after dinner and wished he 'd done the same. But she didn't seem to have a problem with his breath, not with the way her tongue was invading his mouth and sharing his breath.
He rolled her over onto her back, laying across her waist with his arms under her on each side and hands cupping the back of her shoulders. A song he'd heard on the radio in the car on the way over was still stuck in his head and he began to sing it softly in his raspy voice, just loud enough so she could hear it. "Here we are, in a room full of strangers, standing in the dark, where your eyes couldn't see me."
"Mulder are you singing the Bee Gees to me in bed?" she said with laughter clear in her voice. "I thought disco was dead."
"Nah, it's just in hiding. Would you rather Elvis?" he murmured back, smiling. "I can do Viva Las Vegas, but I don't think the words have quite the same impact."
She arched her back and sighed. "Words?"
He lifted his head so she could see him, and met her eyes steadily. "Well I had to follow you, though you did not want me to, but that won't stop my lovin' you, I can't stay away."
She smiled down at him, moving one bent arm under her head so, he guessed, that she could keep looking at him. "That sounds more like a stalker."
Mulder smiled back, then hit her with the final verse: "I will wait, even if it takes forever, I will wait, even if it takes a lifetime, somehow I feel inside, you never ever left my side." He knew that his throat was going to be shrieking when the pain pills wore off, but that certainly wasn't going to stop him now.
Her smile faded to be replaced with a look that he could only describe as deep, her eyes going dark and still. Suddenly she twisted out from beneath him and he was so surprised that he let go, and she was too quick for him to catch her when he realized she was leaping from the bed. Standing beside the bed, her chest heaving, she shook her head. "I can't do this, Mulder, I can't. This is—this is too much. We can't--"
He sat up on the edge of the bed. "Don't 'we' me, Scully. I'm here, I'm in for the long haul. It's you that's having the problem, and I don't understand why. Tell me." He caught and held her eyes with his, hoping almost desperately that he could break through just this once. If she turned away it was over between them; he could not do this anymore either but didn't want to give her an ultimatum. Scully did not take well to ultimatums as he well knew.
Her whole body was trembling with emotion, and if the situation hadn't been so dire he would have enjoyed the sight of her breasts quivering. "Because—because it's just too much!" she spat out, crossing her arms beneath her breasts with fingers almost clutching at her ribs. "Too much emotion, too much dependency, too much..."
As her voice faded away he looked up at her, hoping his feelings showed on his face. "Too much love, Scully? Do I scare you because I tell and show you how much I love you, and... and you don't feel the same for me?" he managed to get out. God, let it not be true, but he had to say it.
She froze, staring at him with wide blue eyes. "No," she whispered. "Just the opposite. I feel too much, Mulder, way too much. I can't, I don't--"
That made a lot more sense to him. Without thinking, he stood and enfolded her in his arms, holding her close but not so tightly that she couldn't move away if she wanted to. "Don't force yourself to say the words, Scully, you don't have to. You show me every day how you feel about me, every moment we're together. Whether you're arguing a point with me, or watching my back on the street, or making love to me until I can't see straight, it doesn't matter. I know. No matter how much you try to pretend otherwise, I know."
She leaned back and he let her, loosening his arms but keeping them around her shoulders. She put her hands on his lean ribs and her teeth sank into her full lower lip as she gazed up at him. A tiny smile quirked the corner of her mouth as she let go of her lip and then murmured, "Think you know it all, do you, Mulder? You think I can't tell you I love you?"
He smiled down at her, but made sure it wasn't a smart-ass grin. "You just did."
The startled look on her face was worth every moment of agony he'd gone through waiting for this moment. "I did," she repeated almost blankly, gazing up at him. "Oh, hell, Mulder, as much as I've tried not to, I have fallen more in love with you every day."
"Why don't you want to?" he asked, more curious than hurt. "What's so bad about it?"
She shrugged, breasts rippling enticingly again. "It changes everything between us," she said, then looked away, breaking eye contact. "In every important relationship I've had, the minute, the very damn minute, I've showed a man how I felt, he stopped wanting me. Oh, we'd stay together, but the... excitement, I guess you'd say, was gone. I no longer felt... wanted, or important, to them. I got taken for granted. And I didn't want that to happen with you. I thought if I could keep myself back, not let myself get too close, then maybe this time it wouldn't happen. If it did, I wasn't sure that I could bear to stay with you as your partner and I'm terrified we'll lose that, as well."
"Scully... do you really think I'm going to want you any less if you tell or show me how you feel?" he asked almost incredulously. Lifting one hand, he cupped the side of her face and brought her eyes back to his. "You are everything to me, whether we sleep together or nor. You're stuck with me, G-woman, unless you don't want me. You're the most exciting, beautiful, strong, arousing woman I've ever known and I'm pretty damn sure I'll never stop feeling that way. Or at least not in the next twenty, thirty years or so."
Her eyes grew misty as she gazed up into his. "I—I'm afraid, Mulder. I can't help it."
"Trust me with this," he said, low, looking down at her. "You trust me with your life, trust me with your heart. I promise I'll be just as careful."
"Ah, shit," she said, leaning against him and hugging him tightly with both arms around his ribs. "If you screw me over, Mulder, I swear to God you'll not know what hit you."
He nuzzled the top of her head, holding her just as tightly to him. "If there is one person on this planet I would never cross, Scully, it's you. You're too good a shot for me to risk it."
She chuckled weakly, which turned into a sob. He leaned her back again with both hands on her upper arms, not letting her wipe at her face as he saw the tear tracks running down her cheeks. "Look at me, Scully," he rasped softly, feeling emotion welling up in him at the sight of her tears. She did, gazing up with misty eyes. "I love you—hell, I love you more than anything. I'll do everything I can to deserve your trust, but I'm not perfect and I'm sure I'll unintentionally screw up now and then. You have to tell me if I do, don't just clam up and be angry. I want to make you happy."
She managed to get her hands free enough to wipe at her face, and he sat on the edge of the bed to help her, his big hands cupping hers as his thumbs helped whisk the tears away. "You do, Mulder, you do—more than you can every know," she sniffled. "Jesus, I hate to cry."
"Do you know what it does to me to know you feel so much for me?" he questioned softly, tilting her face towards him.
To his surprise, she reached down, the corner of her mouth tilting up. "This gives me an idea," she said, and he felt himself responding rapidly. "I loved you before we slept together, Mulder, but this has only increased the way I feel, no matter how hard I fought it," she said. "The way you touch me... the way you look at me... the things you say... I'll try to give it back, as much as I can."
Mulder grabbed her shoulders and urged her up onto the bed on her back, then covered her body with his. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders as their mouths met and they groaned into each other's as their bodies came together. But it wasn't long before he began to realize that this probably wasn't the best position for him; the strain of holding himself up was already tiring him.
Apparently Scully came to the same conclusion, breaking the kiss and asking almost breathlessly, "Are you all right, Mulder? Is this too much?"
"This position, yeah," he answered honestly, but then moved to sit up with his back against the headboard. "But this one shouldn't be."
She got up and straddled him face-to-face. He moved her legs around his hips and lifted her, crossing his legs behind her then wrapped his arms around her and pulled her body against his, holding her against him.
"Oh, Jesus," he rasped, gazing deeply into her eyes only a few inches away. "You are—this is--"
"I know," she sighed back, eyes at half-mast but still looking back at him as she moved back a little. "I couldn't live without this, without you. I need you, Mulder, all day and all night."
"I need you, too, Scully, never forget that and never doubt it," he murmured. "You are the love of my life, my touchstone, my constant. I love you."
She leaned forward and tangled her arms around his neck, fingers sinking into his hair, and kissed him as she began to move. He was lost in an erotic haze; between the feel of her holding his head as she kissed him breathless, her breasts rubbing up and down against his chest, her body against his, he was almost on sensory overload. Finally he had to break the kiss, gasping hoarsely, "I—I can't hold on any more, Scully, I'm--"
"Let go," she whispered back against his lips. "Let go, Mulder, I love you so much."
That did it. Despite wanting to last longer, he was lost at those husky words. Some time later, when he came back down to Earth and began to get his breath back, he lifted his head from her shoulder and asked in his scratchy voice, "Did you make it with me, Scully?"
"No, Mulder, I'm fine," she sighed, laying her face beside his.
"Are you sure?" he said anxiously. "I don't mind--"
She sat up and kissed him, smiling softly into his eyes. "Really, I'm good. It doesn't have to happen for me every time. In fact, this was probably the best time ever because I was so busy thinking about how much I love you and how good things are going to be from now on that I wasn't the least bit worried about it."
She scooted back on the bed, then rolled to her feet. Giving him a brilliant grin that was so wide it showed a small dimple in her cheek, she put one hand out. "Care to shower with me?"
He felt himself answer her smile with his own. "Wouldn't miss it for the world. Besides, you know what I do best in the shower?"
"No, really, you don't have to--"
"You got me all wrong, Scully. I like to sing in the shower, and I know more Bee Gees songs."
"Bring it on, G-man."
finis