EZ8 Motel Bakersfield

Bakersfield, California

June 6th, 1999

6:58am

He was trying desperately to convince his body to go back to sleep so he could get the mere extra thirty minutes that potentially lay ahead of him if he could just settle down again. The sun had barely started to kiss the blinds, the soft lines on the wall above him the gentle impression of a day soon to come. Some may have wanted to enjoy the serene beauty of the moment, but Mulder would rather enjoy the beautiful sight of his eyelids as he got the rest he desperately wanted.

He could hear Scully in the other room getting ready, the soft murmur of her voice as she talked to someone on the phone, the words indistinguishable but the sounds comforting all the same.

When he'd woken up, he'd been sporting surprisingly turgid morning wood, which was probably the reason he was having a hard time getting back to sleep. No pun intended.

This usually happened when they were on cases, and he personally blamed it on the spike of time he got to spend in close proximity to Scully. And that was just on a normal basis when their interactions didn't wander into Scully revealing her sexually liberated opinions. It was a topic they avoided like the plague, oftentimes ending up choking on their words and making the air around them tense and charged.

Speaking of. Figuring he wasn't going back to bed anytime soon, he rolled onto his back and kicked the sheet down with his feet, reaching into the fly of his boxers so he could pull his erection out. Might as well take care of things in this spare time.

On the initial downward stroke, he thought of Scully's revealed sentiments, "As a woman...I understand the carnal instinct of it all." She'd been so open with him yesterday, probably due to the comfort of it simply all relating to the case. Hearing her impassioned speeches always stirred something in him, and hearing impassioned speeches about her passion...that was a whole new level. He'd had to sit upright in the car like an awkward kid because the last thing he'd wanted to do was have her notice he'd popped a boner while hearing her talk about the objectification of women. That really would have proven her point.

He let out a shuddered breath as his cock started to stiffen further under his hand's attention and his mind's remembrances. He loved when she turned red when she got flustered. He had to keep himself from staring at her too much in the car yesterday in fear of exacerbating his predicament, but even the few glances he snuck left an impression. God, she's so beautiful.

Part of him felt guilty for getting aroused from what'd she'd revealed yesterday, but the last thing he ever wanted to do was objectify her. Did he desire her? Yes, but her personality and brains had just as much, if not more, influence on why she affected him so intently. He was in love with her, plainly and simply.

He loved everything about her. Her theories, the way her perfume lingered in a room, the way she smirked at him when he'd mustered the courage to hit on her, the way she bit her bottom lip, the way she said his name...

"Mulder..."

He stifled a groan as he quickened his pace, his hips unconsciously squirming in an attempt to speed up his ascent to his inevitable climax. His vivid memory was useful on cases, but it was heaven sent when trying to fantasize about your partner.

"Mulder," he heard in a louder volume than before, followed by a rap of knuckles on the wood of the adjoining door.

His eyes snapped open as he realized she'd been trying to get his attention. Shoving himself back into his boxers and frantically pulling the sheet up, he turned onto his side and curled into the fetal position to hide his screaming erection. "Ye-ah?" he called, hoping she took the crack in his voice and the overall hoarseness as him just having woken up.

"Can I come in?" she asked.

He quickly did a check to make sure he was covered completely before repeating, "Yeah!"

The door opened tentatively, and he was met with the sight of a freshly-showered Dana Scully, the smell of her body wash wafting into the room through the open door. "Hey, I just-are you okay?" she asked.

He lifted the hand that he wasn't just masturbating with and wiped his face to feign sleepiness, touching hot perspiration as he realized he probably looked like a mess. "Yeah, just woke up," he lied.

"I thought I-nevermind," she sighed, waving her hand to dismiss the questions she didn't have time for, much to his relief. "I just got off the phone with the police, another man in town called in and described a situation similar to what Jack Clarke and Mark Jones had initially reported."

"Similar?" he repeated, easing his weight onto his elbow while keeping his legs locked and bent.

"The only difference was his wife was lying in bed next to him," she informed, leaning against the wood of the door. "I told the police we'd meet them at their place ASAP."

He nodded and eased himself up into a sitting position, knowing Scully would avert her eyes anyway to give him privacy since he was shirtless. "Okay, I'll be out in a minute."

"Meet you at the car," she replied, turning around and shutting the door behind her.

He lifted the sheet and looked at his neglected boner, softening from abandonment. "Sorry buddy, not today. Pack it up," he whispered before sliding off the bed and getting ready.

Mayhew Residence

Bakersfield, California

June 6th, 1999

7:40am

"You the specialists?" a cop asked from behind the crime scene tape bordering the normal-looking home.

"You could say that," Mulder replied, pulling out his badge so they could both flash the officer. "I'm Special Agent Fox Mulder and this is my partner, Special Agent Dana Scully," he said as they bent under the tape to walk up to the house.

"I think we spoke on the phone," the man said to Scully, extending his hand to her. "Officer Smithson," he introduced himself.

"Yes, we did. Thank you for calling us in," Scully replied, shaking his hand. "Can you tell us more about what you know?"

"Kate Mayhew called this morning and said her husband Thomas had been attacked. When we asked 'by what' she couldn't give an answer," he explained.

"When you arrived on the scene what did you think attacked him?" Mulder asked.

"Rough sex," the man snorted, a few other fellow officers nearby joining in.

He looked over at Scully who looked equally as surprised. "Excuse me?"

The officer looked contrite and the smile disappeared, "Sorry, ma'am. It just looks like the wife was trying to have a good time and he wasn't man enough to handle it."

"Why do you say that?" Mulder asked.

"He has scratches all down his back, he looked like he popped some vessels in his eyes straining himself, and he seems all embarrassed and shy," Officer Smithson shrugged.

"Maybe he's embarrassed because his assault is being treated as a joke," Scully deadpanned next to him.

The man let out a half-committed laugh before dismissing her, "There was no assault here."

"But-" Mulder started about to bring up the clear physical evidence.

"Listen," he interrupted. "I just called you guys in because a few things matched the cases you guys came for and because they're both a little spooked. But, in my professional opinion, the man's just upset the wife was a little too rough with him."

Mulder was getting irritated at the man's callous attitude, and he could tell Scully was too by her tone. "Where are the Mayhews now?"

"Ah," he furrowed his brow, as if just considering that information as important. "Mr. Mayhew is on the back of the ambulance getting his cuts looked at and Mrs. Mayhew is inside crying."

"Is it all right if we speak to them?" he asked.

The man shrugged and pulled out a toothpick, "Be my guests."

Scully turned to face him as the officer joined his friends. "Well I don't think they're going to be much help."

"You can say that again," he sighed. "Do you want to go talk to Mrs. Mayhew while I take the Mr.?" he asked. She nodded and they parted ways.

It was easy to find Mr. Mayhew, as his sickly white skin stood out vividly against the dark inside of the ambulance. Mulder flashed his badge to the paramedic attending to the scratches as he stepped into the vehicle. "Thomas Mayhew?" he asked for confirmation.

"Mmm," a weak sound of acknowledgement came from the man.

Mulder sat down on a stool next to the man's head, taking note of the eight deep cuts marring his back and wincing in sympathy. Turning his attention back to the older man, he introduced himself. "My name's Fox Mulder, I'm here to try and figure out what happened to you."

It was slight, but he could tell Mr. Mayhew was trying to shake his head. "It was nothin', Kate shouldn't have called."

"I disagree, Mr. Mayhew-"

"Thomas," he corrected.

"Thomas," Mulder agreed. "You've been badly injured and I can tell you aren't feeling well."

"I've been feeling this way for a few days, it's probably just the flu," he replied.

"And the scratches?" Mulder asked, gesturing to the man's now gauze-covered back.

"I dunno, an accident probably," he shrugged, trying to mask his pain as he sat up so the paramedic could finish up.

"Could you tell me what happened to you while you were sleeping?"

Thomas stared at the ground intently for a moment, the intensity exaggerated by the redness of his eyes. His mouth opened like he was trying to find the words, but he startled at the brush of the paramedics hand against his bare arm. "Sorry," the paramedic apologized.

The man just grunted and then shook his head at Mulder. "How would I know, I was asleep," he barked.

"Did you have an odd dream by any chance? Something unusual?" Mulder prompted, seeing in the man's eyes that he knew exactly what had happened to him.

Mulder looked behind him and saw the paramedic had finished bandaging him and was filling out a form on a clipboard. Turning his attention to the young man he asked, "I'm sorry, could Mr. Mayhew and I have some privacy?"

"Sure," the kid shrugged, hopping off the ambulance and walking towards the front.

Mulder turned his attention back to Mr. Mayhew and spoke with utter sincerity, "Thomas, I'm here to help you. I know what happened may seem hard to explain, maybe even hard to fully understand, but I promise you my full belief without judgement."

He caught Thomas' attention wander over and Mulder followed it to see he was staring at the cops. "I'm sorry if they were rude to you, but I promise I don't work with them and what you tell me will remain confidential between my partner and I. We work on cases that are out of the ordinary."

"It wasn't a dream," he stated.

Mulder was surprised at this and sat up. "It wasn't?"

Thomas shook his head and looked back at Mulder. "Something's wrong with Kate."

"What do you mean?" Mulder asked, realizing Thomas' hesitance may not have been due to embarassment, rather a desire to protect his wife.

"I-I'm not sure, she just," he sighed. "I woke up and she was kissing me, touching me," he continued with a gesture implying more happened that didn't need to be said.

"Was that uncharacteristic?"

"Well, we aren't as young as we used to be. Bones creak, muscles ache, I think we both realized that part of our lives wasn't as easy as it used to be," he explained. "So when she started, I guess it was my eagerness to be intimate again and the dry spell that just made me feel like I was ready to go."

"You felt more lively than normal?" Mulder asked, trying to choose his words carefully.

"I felt ready to go if you know what I mean, but it's not like I even really needed to, she was doing everything."

"Is that usual for her?" Mulder asked.

Thomas shook his head immediately. "No, no. She's always been a bit more reserved, and-" he died off.

"And?" Mulder repeated.

"And last year she broke her hip. This morning, the things she was doing, definitely seem like she'd never had a hip pain in her life. I thought it was weird, but I wasn't about to say anything."

"Did she say anything during this?"

The man rubbed a frustrated hand through his snow-white hair and plainly stated, "When I came, she uh, growled something."

"Growled?" Mulder asked.

"Uh, yeah, it didn't even sound like her. That's when she scratched my back too. She scratched me hard and growled something I'd never heard before."

"What did she say?" He pulled out a pad of paper so he could write what the man said.

"Aradatli-lily," the man sighed, struggling to pronounce it.

Mulder paused, recognizing something familiar about the word. "Ardat Lili?" he repeated.

"I dunno, that sounds right," Thomas said. Mulder nodded in response and wrote it down. "What does it mean?"

"It might be nothing," Mulder shrugged, putting the pad back in his pocket. "What happened after she scratched you?"

"I screamed and pushed her because it hurt. I must've blacked out for a moment of something."

"Why do you say that?"

"It felt like I blinked and one moment she was on me, the next moment she was next to me, clothed and crying." Mulder's brows furrowed and he nodded. "I asked why she scratched me, but she says she didn't. I didn't know she'd called the cops until they just showed up."

"And that's all you remember?" Mulder asked, trying to understand what he'd just been told.

"Yeah, that's everything," he muttered, throwing on his shirt and ignoring Mulder's attempts to help. "Ever heard anything like that before?"

"Well my partner and I are here investigating a pair of unusual cases that are similar, but we're still trying to figure out what's happening. It's complicated to say the least," Mulder said, standing up beside the man and offering a hand to help him from off the ambulance, in the distance he could see Scully talking with a few of the officers and occasionally glancing his way.

"Mr. Mulder," Thomas stated.

Mulder turned to him and saw he was extending his hand which Mulder shook immediately. "Thank you for listening."

"Of course, here's my card if you think of anything else. Feel free to call me anytime," Mulder replied, starting to walk away.

"Mr. Mulder," Thomas called out once more. Mulder turned around and saw the man's face looked more worried than it had before. "Uh, just between us and your partner right?" he asked, glancing over Mulder's shoulders at the cops.

"You have my word," Mulder nodded.

As he made his way over, he saw Scully was deep in the middle of a conversation with a man he hadn't seen before. He was about to find something else to do when Scully waved him over. "Mulder, come here."

He stood next to her as she introduced him. "This is my partner, Agent Mulder. Mulder, this is Dr. Yorke. He's the county's medical examiner."

"Nice to meet you," Mulder nodded, offering a small smile.

"He was just telling me about Mark Jones' autopsy. Everything came back normal despite his look of emaciation and the scratches on his back, but there was something odd that happened during the autopsy."

Mulder looked to the man and he nodded his head enthusiastically. "I'd never seen such a thing before. The body had an unstimulated post-mortem climax," he proclaimed loudly as if it was the most profound sentence he'd ever said.

Mulder registered the words and his eyebrows shot up immediately. "The body…"

"Had an orgasm," the doctor finished.

Mulder looked down at Scully in hopes she would explain a bit more. "It's not unheard of for the deceased to achieve orgasm, in fact it's perfectly common for bodies to get what's called a 'death erection', but for an actual ejaculation there usually has to be electric stimulation of the sacral nerve."

Mulder raised an eyebrow at the doctor and he quickly raised his hands in a proclamation of innocence, "Oh, no, I didn't do anything. It happened before the autopsy even began. I smelled an overwhelming odor and went to get a fan, when I returned I noticed what had happened. I was only gone maybe two minutes at most, but by the time I returned the tumescence was gone, but there was semen on his abdomen."

"What do you make of that?" Mulder asked, the question aimed at both of them.

"I have no idea," the doctor said while Scully shrugged her shoulders. "But that, combined with not being able to find a confirmed cause of death just struck me as odd and I wanted to stop by and let you both know."

"Thank you, Dr. Yorke," Scully said, shaking his hand. "We'll most likely be in contact later."

"Hey, um," Mulder interrupted. "May I ask what the smell was? I presume you're used to foul odors in your line of work."

The doctors face scrunched up at the memory of the odor. "Oh, it was an overwhelming smell of rotting meat. I don't know where it was coming from, but by the time I came back, it was gone.

He nodded, "Thank you for your time."

He turned and Scully motioned for them to walk to the car. "So, how did it go with Mr. Mayhew?" she asked.

"I think the wife was possessed by something," Mulder answered, knowing her reaction before she even said it.

"What?" she balked, disbelief heavy in her tone.

"The husband said while they were having sex, when he came, she scratched his back and growled 'Ardat Lili', which just so happens to be the name of one of the most infamous succubi of all time, something he most definitely wasn't aware of. She's known for trying to extract the seed of men as an offering to her as worship and to populate her race. To top it all off, myths claim you know she's around because of the smell of rotting meat."

Scully stopped short of reaching the car, turning to him with her brows furrowed as she crossed her arms. "Mulder, they didn't have sex."

"He said Mrs. Mayhew was a bit more reserved. Maybe-"

"Mulder, Mrs. Mayhew told me when she woke up she saw her husband laying rigid on the bed with his eyes rolling to the back of his head. She thought he was having a stroke so she called 9-1-1," Scully told him slowly.

Mulder stared at her in shock, then glanced back to the house where he could see Thomas embrace a still weeping Kate. "But-"

"She said one second he was on the bed frozen and the next he was sitting straight up screaming that she'd scratched him," Scully stated.

"He told me they'd been having sex and she attacked him," he replied.

Scully shook her head and glanced over at the couple. "I examined her, Mulder. There wasn't blood anywhere on her, only the bed. She also had a hard time standing up, there's no way she's physically capable of being intimate in her condition."

"How did he get the scratches?" Mulder muttered.

"I think that's the biggest mystery right now," she sighed. "I was talking to the cops who investigated both crime scenes and they said there was absolutely no possible way the houses could have been broken into and that there were no signs of any foul play."

"Something's not adding up," he mused. "I think Jack Clarke might know more than he's letting on."

"Like what?" Scully asked, not following.

"I'm not sure, but I think we should go ask him."