Title: Things That Make Mulder Wonder or The Enigma That Is Dana Scully
Category: X-Files (MSR)
Summary: A whole pile of post-eps for episodes in season 6 and 7 (not necessarily every episode), revolving around Mulder's thoughts, particularly about Scully.
Rating: NC-17 – Walk away kids!
Spoilers: Spoilers up to seasons 6 and 7. You'll know if you read the title of each chapter which episode it pertains to.
Disclaimer: Not my characters, and I make no money off of this, but they would look great doing this.
I think I wrote this chapter first when I originally wrote this years ago. It didn't quite fit with the rest so I added a word here and there…. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Warning, this is NSFW, not for young eyes, and contains sexually explicit material. Read at your own risk.
I would very much like to thank all the commenters who spend a moment to share their thoughts with me, particularly when they are enjoying the story. I hope you all keep it up, and I hope I keep writing stuff you like :)
all things
He's taken advantage of her one too many times. He's an awful prick who has never been able to make a single relationship in his life work. What made him think he could do this? England was lonely and miserable without her. It was a stupid idea for a trip anyway. They missed their pre-arranged date for sex, and he thought a trip to England, under the guise of a visit to see crop circles, would provide just the opportunity. He should have known that trying to get her to go away with him by using manipulation would backfire. He's always been too terrified she will reject him, so manipulation often seems so much easier, but it's extremely dangerous. He can't blame her, after all, it was his bruised ego and frustration that made him storm out in the first place. As he wanders around the DC area looking for her, he wonders if she'll forgive him.
Mulder feels like he doesn't know Scully at all. He'd never have imagined an affair with a married man, sexual or love or whatever it may have been. It was obviously something serious if she thought she might have spent her life with him, if he was willing to leave his wife for her, if he followed her across the country and changed his life for her. He wonders how close he was to losing her to the good doctor.
After their deep, philosophical talk, he feels such affection and longing for her when she falls asleep he wants to kiss her, pushing her hair behind her ear. But he doesn't. Instead, he gets up and gets ready for bed. He's grateful for Dr. Daniel Waterston. His screw up is Mulder's gain.
The last thing he remembers is reading a copy of a horror novel someone had given him once and thinking that fiction was pretty tame in comparison to their real lives.
When he wakes next, her warm body is against his. He opens his eyes in confusion to find her watching him. He absently recognizes the shirt she now wears as the one he'd just taken off.
"I need to know if you want this now," she says. "I need to know because if I start, I don't think I'll be able to stop."
He isn't sure if she means a relationship or only the sex, but at this particular hour at night, with her hot and gorgeous lying next to him and the blood rushing away from his brain, he can't quite come up with the words to ask her, or find a suitable Mulder-worthy response. He knows he wants her for the rest of his life, doesn't she? He's too sleepy and aroused to respond, so, he kisses her.
Not their first kiss, no, but definitely one to remember. Her mouth opens almost immediately and he slides his tongue in. He knows all the fancy prose written about the taste of a lover's mouth, but her mouth tastes of stale tea and sleep and he enjoys it no less than if it was sweet like sugar candy. He imagines his doesn't taste much better, but at three in the morning it was hardly fair to expect any different.
He rolls her onto her back and leans over her body, kissing her deeply and allowing one hand to touch places he's rarely or never touched before, and never under a circumstance like this. She has her hands around his neck, in his hair, caressing his cheek, and running down his chest. He is so hard for her he's almost positive he won't last long enough to get inside.
"I need you to know," she whispers against his mouth as his lips continue to chase hers. "I need you to know that I choose this path, Mulder. Even if I had a hundred to choose from, this is the one I *want* to be on."
He almost stops kissing her as he considers this a declaration of love, and he wants to say it back, but he hasn't the words - nothing as beautiful as she's said, anyway, and certainly not at such a late hour - and he doesn't want to sound stupid. The fact is, the last time he told anyone he loved them out loud and really meant it was when he was 10 and told his mother he loved her after she'd convinced his father to join him in the Indian Scouts. The boys he met there said that love was for sissies so he'd regrettably never said it again.
He does stop kissing her then, intent on saying something, but she latches onto his neck with her mouth and he gives up. He gives in.
She's passive, but not too passive. He likes that, if only here in bed, and she seems content in letting him take the lead. He needs to because he's too far on the edge. One wrong move and this night will end very embarrassingly. He kisses and sucks and licks everything, and he enjoys pleasuring her every bit as she does. She tastes wonderful, exactly like he imagined she would, his nose pressed so closely against her skin he picks out that scent that is uniquely Scully. He finds out she likes her breasts kneaded; she likes her nipples licked with the flat of his tongue. She's too ticklish to enjoy a kiss to the navel, but a little lower has her moaning before he even touches it fully with his mouth.
She's musky and smells all female, and he thinks he tastes water and he realizes she'd washed herself and prepared for this. How considerate since he is sure he smells horribly after a transcontinental flight and a few hours of talking on the couch. Doesn't matter, he thinks, as long as she doesn't say anything, and he continues to dive in between her legs.
One more lesson learned about Dana Scully and sex: her clit is very sensitive. Barely one open mouth kiss and flick of his tongue and she groans and bucks, going rigid for a moment before sighing a moan and relaxing, her body shuddering, her hands burrowing through his hair. He decides that was too easy and he'd like to try again, so he proudly puts into play his best moves, and it works in moments. With a huge grin plastered to his face, he figures he earned his turn, and kissed his way up her soft, beautiful body. She lies limp, her hair messy against the pillows, her arms flailed out to her sides, her legs still spread as he left them. Her eyes are half closed and he kisses a nipple before settling onto her.
"Like that?" he asks, with exaggerated cockiness. She raises an eyebrow before rolling her eyes.
"Get on with it, G-man," she says with a genuine smile that sparkles her eyes.
Orgasms look good on her, he thinks as he grabs his cock and wets it through her folds. He lays himself down fully on top of her, and pushes himself inside, slowly, but all the way to the hilt. He won't rush this.
His eyes shut in an overload of pleasure and he groans. He wants to watch her, he really does, but he just can't. The sensations are too much, the physical pleasure of being inside such a tight, wet, hot place, the almost unbelievable knowledge that this is Scully, his partner, his… *partner.* This is the unattainable but painfully desired partner he'd taught himself to keep his hands off of for so long, with whom he'd so far only shared innocent – and some not so innocent – kisses with. This partner he was now touching, fully naked, from head to toe, buried as deep inside as he can go.
He becomes slightly aware of her stroking his back and kissing his shoulder and he decides it's safe to move. He rocks back and forth gently but deeply. He lifts his head to kiss her again. He sucks on her earlobe, then bites it when she squeezes her inner muscles. He concentrates hard on making her come again. He needs it. He has to prove her right, that this was the right choice, that he can make her happy, that he doesn't only bring sorrow and pain.
Gritting his teeth, he quickens his pace and begins to push into her hard. She's more vocal now, sighing out moans and words of encouragement. It's all he needs to keep going, though it's turning him on like mad, he manages to hold back until the moment her walls tighten and clench around him. As soon as he feels her orgasm tense and shudder her body, he pushes in deeply, and lets go with a bellow.
He's not sure if he passed out, but he does come to as a dead weight on her body. She's breathing hard and he can even feel her chest rising and falling as he squishes her beneath him. He moves to lift himself, but her arms tighten around him.
"No," she murmurs in his ear, "I like this."
She likes it a just little rough, she likes to be a little passive, and she wants me to pass out on her afterward. He filed it all away for the next time. He can barely even fathom a next time. He wondered if anything would be this perfect.
"That was amazing," he says, and then feels stupid. He'd said something similar to the girl he'd lost his virginity to. She'd laughed and straightened her clothes and he vowed never to say anything so lame again, and he never had. Until now.
She doesn't laugh, however. She rubs his shoulders and tells him he is amazing. Her gentle words and her strong touch almost send him back to sleep.
He eventually rolls off of her, afraid of her losing her breath, and she automatically curls up next to him. He pulls her close, lying on his side, facing her, giving her eskimo kisses and nuzzling her hair.
"To think," he says, "I was actually worried about this old boyfriend."
"Really?"
"Yeah. He's the guy who got your believing in faith healers, in visions and everything unscientific."
"No, he didn't get me believing in them, Mulder."
He feels her drifting off, and he knows he has to say it soon. It makes sense now, after she's given him the one thing he's wanted for so many years. He'd stayed celibate for her – surgery induced hallucinations aside – even when Diana stroked his cock and asked him to bed so many years ago he refused. He had to say it, before he lost his nerve.
The words feel heavy in his mouth, so he lets them tumble out. "I love you," he says. He gets a mumble back. She's asleep.
He's usually an insomniac, but a touch of jet lag and a big case of being sexually sated leaves him exhausted and he drops off, arms loosely around her, the comforter tucked neatly around her back and wrapped messily around his legs.
When he wakes, the light from the sun cuts right across his face through the blinds. He feels the pleasurable ache of his body, and a smile comes to his face. Scully. He turns, but she's not in bed. He smells her pillow and has proof she was there.
He calls for her, but soon it's obvious she's not in his apartment. He panics for a moment, thinking she's somewhere regretting this and looking for a way out, but then he allows himself a few deep breaths, puts on a pair of boxers, and goes for the phone. She picks up on the third ring.
"Where are you?" he asks.
"Home. I just got out of the shower. Why?"
"I thought… I mean, I have a shower here."
"Yes, I saw it. It was filthy, and had only small sliver of soap left. I opted for my clean tub with my bath products."
"Okay," he says, disappointed. In line with the new development in their relationship, he decides to tell her the truth. "I thought you left because you regretted it."
"No, Mulder. I would never regret us. I just… I think I need time to adjust to this. It's not a rejection, and I do want to do this. We've been talking about if for so long and now that it's here… I just need to go slow. I hope you understand."
Of course he understands. He's known Scully for almost a decade, and for a significant amount of that time he's been in love with her. He's watched her, studied her. He knows her need for control and he knows her fear of falling head first into a relationship with a slightly unstable person such as himself. As compassionate and caring as she is, unlike Mulder, Scully doesn't wear her heart on her sleeve. It is tucked carefully away for only the very lucky to see.
"I understand," he tells her. "I'll see you in the office?"
"I'll race you there," she says, and he hears the smile in her voice. She hangs up before he can say anything more. He wouldn't have said anything anyway. He's still wondering if all of this isn't just one crazy dream.