It all fits the profile.
That's what he had just said to her. Dana Scully almost laughed. "This fits a profile?" she asked, incredulously.
It was funny to her because she was actually believing it. The nonsense coming out of her new partner's mouth was making sense to her. After the events of the past couple days, and what had transpired in just the last hours was something out of science fiction. Or a horror movie, but a bad one, like an Ed Wood film—low-budget, weak plot, campy dialogue.
In fact, Agent Fox Mulder's next words were just that: "I think time, as we know it, stopped. And something took control over it."
Now she did laugh, huffing out a little chuckle; but not at him like he thought, prompting him to say, "You think I'm crazy."
No, she didn't, but she was afraid she might be. This whole nine minutes thing, as impossible as it sounded, was a strong argument. Scully sobered up slightly when she recalled the time at which Peggy O'Dell's watch had stopped.
Mulder looked back, seeing her expression become grim. "What?"
"Peggy O'Dell's watch stopped a couple minutes after nine. I made a note of it when I saw the body."
This excited him. Not only was his stubborn, strictly rational partner entertaining his theory, even citing evidence to support it, but the information spurred on the frantic workings of his mind. "That's the reason the kids come to the forest, because the forest controls them and summons them there. And, and, and the marks are from some kind of test that's being done on them. And, and that may be causing some kind of genetic mutation which would explain the body we dug up."
Ed Wood wishes he had an imagination like this, Scully thought, and then she heard herself add to Mulder's explanation. "And the force summoned Theresa Nemman's body into the woods tonight."
"Yes, but it was Billy Miles who took her there, summoned by some alien impulse. That's it!"
This time when she laughed, Mulder joined her, smiling wide. It was incredible to see this shift in her. All they had gone through in their short time together had forced them to bond straightaway, but it had happened unbeknownst to them, albeit right under their noses.
Mulder felt a kinship with Scully even though they were polar opposites. He went from teasing her, treating her like someone sent to spy on him, to asking her to blow off steam with him on a run, to entrusting her with the story of his sister, to right now where he could spout off his theories without worrying about her shutting him down.
Watching her go down this line of reasoning with him was exhilarating. He had a strong urge to kiss her right then. She was standing there soaking wet in her oversized coat, a big toothy grin on her face as she laughed at the absurdity of it all along with her own willingness to believe in the unbelievable.
What he didn't know was that there was a bit of relief behind her laughter. It felt good to let her walls down and to be more open to ideas beyond the realm of her precious science. She found her resistance to his approaches to be exhausting—necessary but exhausting. Scully knew they had gotten to this point because of the combination of her scientific doctrine and his brilliant, although rather quixotic, mind.
The two of them seemed like an unlikely duo to strike such a balance, but they had, and fairly quickly, too. The look on his face was childlike, innocent, almost carefree. Knowing what she knew now about his past almost couldn't be reconciled with the person in front of her, smiling through a literal and figurative downpour. They were standing by two empty graves, all their hard work and evidence had been reduced to ash. At this moment, they only had his theories which she was now backing up. Whereas before it felt like it was him against her, the fantastic versus the plausible, they were now a unified force with contradicting ideologies fighting for the same truth. It was remarkable.
Mulder's impulse to kiss her only grew. His smile faded as he became thoughtful, overcome with a need to touch her. If he did give in, he risked more than just overstepping a professional line, he put in jeopardy a partnership, a trust, that he had feared he would never find in another person. But, it was that connection that made the pull toward her so strong.
He let the flashlight fall from his grasp and reached out and cupped her face, caressing her wet cheeks with his thumbs, and she dropped hers as well, her hands going straight to his forearms, her expression matching his now; she was feeling the same lure and the new gravity of the situation. Scully had fought it back at the hotel room. She had dropped her robe, hugged him, laid on his bed—all the while keeping her desire at bay because she didn't want anything to come in the way of him opening up to her. And he had—he had trusted her enough to tell her about his sister and about his hopes for the X-Files and his singular mission to find the truth.
She knew that she had been fooling herself that it was just a physical lust. There was so much more behind it than that, and that had been revealed to her this very night. Listening to his story in a candlelit hotel room, suffering the loss of their evidence in the fire, protecting that girl together, and now standing in a torrential rain atop the muddy heaps of dug up graves, holding onto one another.
It was coming down in sheets around them, but he was able to look straight into her eyes, the moonlight illuminating the darkening of her pupils. Mulder drew her in and pressed his lips against hers. She opened her mouth and he felt drops of rainwater fall on his lower lip which she licked away as she pushed her tongue inside. At first, he let his tongue lightly meet hers, softly swirling around, but soon he was plunging deep into the hot hollow of her mouth, stroking the insides of her cheeks. She had wrapped her arms around him, bringing them tighter together.
A moan escaped her throat and he swallowed it, then grunted in response. With his hands still holding her face, he pulled her back to look at her again—to make sure she wanted this. He knew her rationality would put a stop to this if it was the wrong thing. It all felt so right, though.
Scully affirmed this thought with her eyes and then with a nod. Mulder gripped one hand behind her neck and rested his forehead against hers. He could feel her breathing heavily like he was, the heat within them hitting the cold air, making the cloudy vapor of their breath rise up in a dewy mist around them.
The setting was eerie, two pillaged gravesites at their feet. Scully was about to have sex with Spooky Mulder here on this dark and stormy night. She smiled inwardly, remembering Mulder's comment from earlier: You gotta love this place. Every day's like Halloween. The woman she was before she walked into that basement office just days ago wouldn't recognize her. Looking back on that moment now, she realized just how profound their meeting was. She was suddenly reminded of something her sister had said to her when she joined the FBI: You don't know how your life is going to change or how you are going to change the life of others. With that handshake, her life had changed.
Mulder had been doing a similar earnest soul-search with himself as he stood clasped to this woman he had only recently met but felt he knew on a deeper level as if they had already spent a lifetime together. This wouldn't be the first time he had fucked in a cemetery; his mind, regrettably, drifted back to a youthful indiscretion he had had at university. Even just the kissing, the build-up, was infinitely better with Scully because she was compassionate and empathetic, not looking to exploit him or manipulate him. The women in his life up until now had always been that way with him, exacting and controlling. What he was experiencing with Scully was unlike anything he had ever felt. Trusting someone, completely and deeply, changed everything—and how quickly and how naturally she had earned that trust! There was a warmth inside him that had never been there before.
He nudged his way back down to her mouth, kissing her again with the same urgency they had had before their respective introspective moments. Her hand snuck between them, going to his crotch and rubbing the hard ridge of his erection. He pressed his hips into her, deepening her touch. Mulder had his hand on her neck because he needed to feel her skin and the rest of her was bundled up in her winter wear.
Scully could sense his frustration by the way he pawed at the collar of her coat. She removed her hand from his dick and started unbuttoning the cumbersome garment; she had buttoned and zipped up the stupid thing. Grateful to her for initiating the removal of clothes, Mulder helped her, their hands meeting and fumbling halfway as he struggled with the zipper, and she with the buttons.
He let out an exasperated huff and she laughed. "Here, let me," she said.
Finally, it was off, and she kept going with the button-up shirt she had on underneath it. She wasn't about to get naked in this cemetery, but she wanted Mulder to have easier access to her bare body; she was already anticipating his hands on her. She left her t-shirt on and then undid her jeans as Mulder unbuckled his belt, having taken off his own jacket as well.
As soon as he opened the fly of his khaki pants, Scully's hand found its way inside, searching for the opening of his boxers. She wrapped her fingers around his cock when she found it, firmly stroking the length of him. Mulder groaned and approached her with equal enthusiasm, both hands skating underneath her wet t-shirt and up to cup her breasts. She arched her back, pressing her chest into his hands, then tilted her chin up to find his lips with hers.
They began kissing again with eagerness while they groped at each other. Mulder had pulled down the cups of her bra and teased her nipples, rolling them between his fingers gently, then pinching, causing her to whimper and her hand to still its movement inside his pants. He pinched again, delighting in the effect it had on her. She twitched in his arms and grinded her pelvis into him. "Oh Scully," he heaved out, a smile playing on his lips.
One of his hands drifted down, sneaking its way into her jeans. He rubbed her sex over her underwear finding her hot and wet. She began pumping her fist up and down his cock, and he pushed her panties aside to finger her. They must've been a sight, looking like horny teenagers giving each other overzealous, clumsy handjobs.
He had two fingers inside her, pushing in and out. It felt good, amazing actually, but she wanted more. "I need…"
"What do you need?" he asked in a hot breath against her neck.
"I need you inside me."
He guided her towards the headstone, slipping his hand from out of her jeans so he could scoot them and her underwear down. She felt her bare ass meet the cold granite. Some guilt with a hint of sacrilege burned inside her, sparking just for a moment—the graves have been desecrated already, what does it matter if I get fucked up against it? The kinkiness of it and her hungry need for Mulder superseded any shame that tried to worm its way in.
Mulder pushed his pants down to around his knees, and he took his dick in his hand, taking a moment to look at Scully. The dark sky had a hint of the approaching dawn in it, the glittering rain pelting them, unrelenting. They were soaked to the bone, cold and wet, but none of that discomfort penetrated this bubble of passion they had temporarily built around themselves.
He stepped to her, his erect cock like a divining rod, twitching with anticipation as he neared the inviting spring of her pussy. His head pressed against her sensitive opening, and she held her breath, waiting for the sweet invasion. Mulder thrust his hips, sheathing himself inside her tight walls. They both moaned, then sought out each other's gaze—they needed to connect on all levels. Looking deep into the cool pools of her eyes, Mulder tried to convey the emotion he felt before he continued. Scully stared back at him, mirroring the intense affection she saw on his face. She bit her lip, a shy smile curving into the corners. He caressed the side of her face like he had at their first wanton contact, wiping away raindrops that dappled her flushed cheeks.
Then he moved, pulling his length out of her and pushing back in. "Yesss," she hissed. Mulder began pounding into her, watching with awe as her orgasm built, her ecstasy showing on her face, as he felt about to burst. He was ready to open up an X-File on his ability to stave off his climax until she came, and as soon as she did, he followed suit. Her cunt pulsed and throbbed around him as he spurted his release inside her, his hips jerking. Her name spilled past his lips and she pressed a kiss into him, humming in satisfaction.
They started to redress, as difficult as it was with sopping wet clothes, but they kept stealing little flirtatious glances at each other. When Scully finally caught his eye, she grinned at him. He picked up her coat which was laying in a heap in the mud and handed it to her. "Here's your enormous jacket."
Scully laughed, taking it from him and shrugging it on.
Mulder put his arm around her and they began walking towards the entrance of the cemetery. "C'mon, let's get outta here."
"Where are we going?"
"I'm gonna buy you breakfast and then we're going to pay a visit to Billy Miles."