THE NAKED TRUTH
by Avalon (avalon99@telusplanet.net)
http://members.dencity.com/avalon_online
From an idea by Sharon Nuttycombe and Linda Campbell
Skinner, Scully, R, 4/5
THE NAKED TRUTH IV
Scully was steadfastly trying to ignore the fact that her boss was dressing not two feet away from her. She kept her gaze carefully averted. It didn't help. Her hand brushed against a certain part of his anatomy as he was pulling on his underwear, and she took a deep breath. "You're a doctor," she told herself firmly. "Get a grip."
Unfortunately, she didn't have to be a doctor to know just what portion of his anatomy she had been touching, and a small voice inside her informed her in no uncertain terms exactly what she'd like to get a grip on...
She gave herself an inward shake, and resumed speaking. "All right," she said, her gaze fixed on the nearby table, "During the barfight, the police showed up and started to arrest everyone. They must have planned the raid all along...and we were in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"So why didn't we just explain who we were?" The sound of jeans sliding over his legs and hips made Scully lose concentration for a moment. "Scully?"
She blinked. "If I remember correctly, you said not to."
"Why?" There was surprise in his voice.
"Um...I think you mentioned something about 'if this ever gets back to the Bureau'...And then we ducked out the back door as a brawl broke out. I...I think the Police chased us, but we got away."
"Resisting arrest, leaving the scene..." Skinner muttered. "Wonderful. Just wonderful."
Scully risked a quick glance over her shoulder. He was trying to untangle the shirt that was wrapped around his arm. "If it's any consolation," she said helpfully, "you did have a concussion. You weren't entirely responsible for your actions."
"So why didn't you stop me?" He had managed to get the shirt back over his shoulders and was working industriously on the buttons.
Scully cocked an eyebrow. "We were handcuffed together. And in case you haven't noticed, you outweigh me...significantly. Short of doing long-term bodily harm, I didn't have much of a hope..."
Skinner met her eyes. "Thanks for restraining yourself. So what happened next?"
"We stole a Harley."
"We stole a Harley?"
"We stole a Harley."
Skinner paused, obviously needing a few moments to absorb that. Finally: "All right, we fled the scene on a stolen motorcycle. I suppose we can add grand theft auto to the list. What else?"
Scully frowned. This was where her memories started to break down. "I'm not sure. It's...a little hazy...but I think we drove into the Potomac."
The silence this time was even more loaded. Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, Skinner asked: "Why?"
"I believe you lost control of the bike. After that...I don't remember anything until we woke up this morning. I must have hit my head."
Skinner turned around, now completely dressed except for one missing sock. "Are you sure that's all you remember?"
Scully nodded.
"All right," Skinner continued. "We were wandering through the night, soaking wet, handcuffed together, with a pair of concussions, and avoiding police pursuit. That still doesn't explain how..." His voice broke off.
"What?"
He spoke slowly. "I just remembered what happened to my back."
Scully's eyes flickered to his shoulders, remembering the long scratches on his skin. She swallowed. "Well?"
"We escaped by ducking under a barbed wire fence." He paused. "Which, I suppose, adds trespassing to our list of accomplishments."
Scully sighed. "Were there any laws we didn't break last night?"
He shot her a look. "I'm fairly certain we didn't kill anyone."
"That's a relief." Her tone was dry.
Skinner shot her a look then headed back towards the table, pulling Scully after him. She stared at him in consternation as he silently crawled underneath it.
"Um...Walter?"
"Yes?" He started to back out.
"What are you...? Oh." The Assistant Director emerged, a shoe in his hand. He didn't bother to climb back to his feet; merely sat down where he was to pull it on.
"Have you seen my other shoe, Scully?"
Shaking off yet another wave of unreality that had assailed her, Scully turned to scan the room. "No."
He got back to his feet. "It's got to be here somewhere."
"Not necessarily. It could be in the Potomac," she replied witheringly.
"Mmm. Good point." Absently he tucked his shirt into his pants as he prowled around the room once more. Scully padded silently after him. Finally: "Damn. I liked those shoes."
Scully's eyes flickered toward him. "It could have been worse."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning you could have lost...oh...say...your pants."
"In which case I would have refused to leave this room and they'd have found us in a week or two, curled up in the corner, dead of starvation." He gave her a faint grin, which quickly vanished. "Dana...About what happened..."
Scully hesitated. "When? Last night or...just now?"
"Just now." His eyes had darkened, she noticed. With desire? Unconsciously she flicked her tongue out to lick dry lips. His eyes followed the movement and he took a half-step closer. "I probably should apologize," he said softly.
Once again, Scully's heart began to pound. "Why?" She matched his low tones. "I'd say that finding yourself chained to a naked woman in a strange bed could be considered sufficient provocation for one kiss. And I...I didn't exactly put up a struggle, did I?" He was almost touching her now, his body a hairsbreadth away from hers. It would take so little -- one movement, one thought even...
Something kept her talking. One last piece of the puzzle that she had to solve first...before they... "You...you still haven't explained how we ended up there..."
"Where?" It was no more than a whisper.
"Naked in bed."
Slowly, as if giving her time to move away, he raised his hand and lightly touched her cheek. She didn't move. Instead, Scully found herself leaning into the touch, her eyes flickering shut as sparks of electricity shot through her. Something touched her hair...his lips?...and she sighed.
When he spoke again, his voice sounded muffled. "That was your doing, Dana, not mine." His hand left her cheek, moving to encircle her waist. Gently he pulled her toward him, closing the last distance between them. "I believe your exact words were: 'if we don't get our clothes off now we'll both catch hypothermia.' And then you muttered something about me not having anything you hadn't seen before."
Scully's eyes flew open to meet a very amused pair of brown ones, and the most relaxed, unguarded expression she had ever seen on his face. "I said that?" she said, in complete disbelief.
Skinner nodded, one hand slowly wandering down her back while the fingers of the other entwined with hers. He grinned. "You couldn't wait to throw me on the bed and get my clothes off. Very aggressive, Scully."
Her mouth dropped open...but whatever she was going to say was swallowed by Skinner's kiss. She gasped in surprise, and his tongue hastily took advantage of her parted lips, thrusting deeply inside. He pulled her closer, wedging their hips together as he continued to explore the inner recesses of her mouth. His arousal pressed tightly against her...and then she was kissing him back, her free hand running down the length of his spine and over his buttocks, then back up to his muscular shoulders.
Skinner pulled away briefly, and she made a sound of protest, but then he was trailing fire down her throat, his lips caressing her skin, and the sound turned to one of pleasure. He muttered something as his fingers went to the buttons of her blouse. "What?" Scully managed to say.
"I said," he repeated, a little indistinctly, "that getting dressed was obviously a waste of time." And then he had opened the blouse, one hand sliding beneath her bra...
"I agree," Scully said breathlessly. He moved the bra gently aside, his mouth found her breast...and her thought processes stopped altogether. Blindly she reached for the zipper on his jeans...
...and outside a police siren wailed by, sounding loudly just beneath the window before fading away into the distance.
At the sound, Skinner gave a muffled curse, broke away, flung Scully to the ground, and threw himself on top of her.
Silence descended.
* * *
"Walter."
"Erm...Yes?"
"What are you doing?"
A long silence. "Uh...nothing."
Another silence. Then: "Your elbow...or something ...is digging into my ribs..."
"It's my elbow, Scully."
"Well, whatever it is, could you please move it?" A pause. "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Scully stared up at him. "Are you going to explain?"
"Explain what?"
"What we're doing on the floor."
Skinner smiled sheepishly, then pulled them both to their feet. "Sorry," he said. "I think I was having a flashback from last night."
She straightened her clothes then tentatively touched his arm. "Don't worry about it. Driving a Harley into the Potomac when you have a concussion is enough to make anyone a little...siren-shy. But I'd appreciate a bit of warning next time."
"It did break the mood, didn't it?" There was regret in his voice.
Scully tilted her head on one side, then nodded silently. He was right. The passion had died down to a dull simmer -- being tossed to the floor tended to do that to her -- although she had the sneaking suspicion that it wouldn't take much of a spark to set it off again. Her heart was still racing, pounding so loudly she was surprised he couldn't hear it. She forced herself to turn away, picking up her purse. "Maybe it's for the best," she said, somewhat wistfully.
Skinner didn't move, stopping her with a tug on the handcuffs. She turned back to look at him...and drew in her breath. She was wrong. The desire hadn't faded -- it was still burning in his eyes, an inferno barely held in check. Tantalizingly slowly, he reached out and rebuttoned her blouse one-handed, his knuckles brushing lightly against her flesh.
"I am going to make love to you, Dana Katherine Scully," he said, his voice a low growl. "Not here, not now. But soon. That's a promise."
And then he was leading her toward the doorway, and Scully could only nod weakly and follow him in silence.
END OF PART FOUR