She looked through the file cabinet drawer idly, having already put away the folder she had been working on. Her hair; its' color of certain autumn leaves particularly brilliant in the florescent lights today, hid her face as she bent her head in feigned file interest. She was listening.
Listening to the soft clack of Mulder's fingers, trying to get his report done. It was late, and AD Skinner was waiting for it impatiently.
Listening to the silence of the office, of the hallway outside the door. No one ever walked down the hallway, unless their destination was Spooky Mulder's office. No one ever came looking for Agent Scully.
Even when HE, when Skinner- called down from his lofty, plush domain, it was always for Mulder.
Her heart flipped over at the thought of her boss. She decided that if the telephone rang before she left, she would be sure to answer it herself.
She wanted to listen to him. To the pitch and timbre of his voice, wanted to hear him order her to do things unrelated to investigative work. She wanted to hear the voice, the voice that turned her insides to hot, seeking mush. Wanted to hear him order her to investigate him.
She knew these thoughts were inappropriate.
Her boss had a spell on her. A spell of lust he knew nothing about.
She was, undeniably, spellbound.Spellbound by the hard voice.Spellbound by the hard body.Spellbound by the image of everything hard his body could offer.
She pushed the file drawer shut with a frustrated bang that startled her partner and brought her back to her senses.
She left.
She walked slowly down the hall outside the AD's office, wracking her brain. She had already gone up five more floors than was necessary, when she should have been going down, Going down, what a wonderful thought.
Couldn't she think of even one tiny excuse to see him? Anything at all?
No dice. She went past the door, imagining him there, behind the desk in his crisp white shirt, an image she had seen so often that it was always the first thing that came to her mind.
She wanted to see a different image. Wanted to see him stand up, take off the shirt and tie; take off the demeanor he wore like a shield all the time. She wanted to see him smile, she wanted to be the one to make him smile. She wanted him to take her on his vast expanse of desk.
She wanted to see him at home, relaxing. Maybe with herself relaxing right next to him. Maybe in bed. Hopefully naked.
Spellbound by the walls he stood behind.
Spellbound by the thought of how delicious he would look if he would only smile.
She quickened her pace and went to the elevator.
She stopped outside the elevator in the parking garage below the building. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness and automatically went to his reserved parking space. He was still here, of course. She had to pass his car on the way to hers, paused to walk slowly around the vehicle, jealous of the door handle he had touched, of the seat his body had touched; jealous of the steering wheel and the gear shift he had his hands on the entire time he was in the car. She glanced around surreptitiously - no one around to see her, casing his car like a thief in the dark. She hated herself for this.
Spellbound by touching the door handle he had touched eight or nine hours ago. If the car wasn't locked, she knew she would actually open the door, knew without a doubt that the interior of the car would smell just like him, sending her into spasms of need and want, like being in his office.
Spellbound by his nearness.
Spellbound by the totally masculine, sensual scent of him.
She forced herself to go to her own car and go home.
Home was worse. Home was empty, and she needed - something. No, she needed someone, a particular, large, well-built, commanding someone.She sighed and went to run some hot, hot water into the tub, adding copious amounts of bubble bath. A shower simply wouldn't do.
She closed her eyes, slipping out of her clothes, dropping them to the floor, wanting to have him there watching, wanting to see dark desire in his eyes, as she revealed herself to him. Wanted him to be spellbound by her presence - haunted by her absence.
She stepped into the too-hot water, her mind giving the heat the weight it would need to equal him on her body. She yearned to feel his weight on her, crushing her, commanding her.
Her hands drifted through the warmth, found her nipples and played there, pretending to be his, tantalizing, enjoying.
She sank even lower in the big tub, the hot water on her cheek becoming his hot breath. How she longed to taste his mouth, his nipples, his cock. How she longed to be tasted. His power over her was unrelenting, and her hands roamed further down, down between her legs, where she could finally give herself some release. Release that left only emptiness and wanting.
Wanting more.
Wanting him.
Possessed by a man who had no idea that the mere thought of him could turn her inside out. Owned heart and soul by a human being who walked the hallways of her life day after day, oblivious.
End Part 2