Mulder tossed and turned in his bed. He had not been able to sleep - those women were invading his thoughts. Each and every one of them alike. The same, almost in every way.
He had taken off all his clothes as soon as he had returned from the bar, feeling dirty and confused.
"Help..." he whimpered, his sweat drenched body writhed on the sheets and he drifted off into sleep again.
There he was, back in the field again. This time he had flowers in his hair, and he was skipping and dancing with them.
"Dance!" one of them cried, chuckling as he looked around, bewildered and unable to stop himself.
"Please, stop this torture!" he wanted to cry, but when he opened his mouth all that came out were flowers.
One of them looked at him and grinned evilly, her smile sending chills through his body.
"You will never be free of us, Mr. Mulder." she said softly, seductively.
She reached out and took his hand. He stopped dancing and the other girls vanished from around him as if they had never been there.
"Relent. Give in..." she drew near to him and put a hand on his cheek.
He tried to move, and this time felt himself giving in her.
She leant forward and planted a kiss on his lips, he closed his eyes and wished it was all over, but he felt her scantly-clad body against his and then nothing.
He opened his eyes, he had woken up. It was all a dream. A bad dream. He would never sleep again.
He pushed the sheets off himself and gasped at the female form in the bed beside him. There she was, partially clothed. The girl from his dreams, but definately not the girl of his dreams.
"Hiya, Foxy." she said grinning, and pulled the sheets around herself.
He gawped at her and grabbed at the sheets, covering himself.
"That's a bit rude." the woman spat, "I would have thought you'd have been glad of my company. I know you've been feeling lonely, Fox. I can feel it." she rubbed her hands slowly down her perfect form and moaned.
Mulder leaped off the bed and almost tripped over his clothes, that he had left on the floor.
"Be careful. We wouldn't want you hurting yourself now, would we?"
"Who are you?" he asked, glaring at her and pulling on his pants, not taking his eyes off her.
"Don't you recognise me?" she asked, and looked rather hurt.
"I...I..." Mulder looked down, embarrassed, and when he looked up again the woman was not there.
No, it was the C.S.M, sitting in his bed, just lighting up, a cigarette between his lips.
"Now, Mr. Mulder. I would have thought you'd know that."
THE END
He had taken off all his clothes as soon as he had returned from the bar, feeling dirty and confused.
"Help..." he whimpered, his sweat drenched body writhed on the sheets and he drifted off into sleep again.
There he was, back in the field again. This time he had flowers in his hair, and he was skipping and dancing with them.
"Dance!" one of them cried, chuckling as he looked around, bewildered and unable to stop himself.
"Please, stop this torture!" he wanted to cry, but when he opened his mouth all that came out were flowers.
One of them looked at him and grinned evilly, her smile sending chills through his body.
"You will never be free of us, Mr. Mulder." she said softly, seductively.
She reached out and took his hand. He stopped dancing and the other girls vanished from around him as if they had never been there.
"Relent. Give in..." she drew near to him and put a hand on his cheek.
He tried to move, and this time felt himself giving in her.
She leant forward and planted a kiss on his lips, he closed his eyes and wished it was all over, but he felt her scantly-clad body against his and then nothing.
He opened his eyes, he had woken up. It was all a dream. A bad dream. He would never sleep again.
He pushed the sheets off himself and gasped at the female form in the bed beside him. There she was, partially clothed. The girl from his dreams, but definately not the girl of his dreams.
"Hiya, Foxy." she said grinning, and pulled the sheets around herself.
He gawped at her and grabbed at the sheets, covering himself.
"That's a bit rude." the woman spat, "I would have thought you'd have been glad of my company. I know you've been feeling lonely, Fox. I can feel it." she rubbed her hands slowly down her perfect form and moaned.
Mulder leaped off the bed and almost tripped over his clothes, that he had left on the floor.
"Be careful. We wouldn't want you hurting yourself now, would we?"
"Who are you?" he asked, glaring at her and pulling on his pants, not taking his eyes off her.
"Don't you recognise me?" she asked, and looked rather hurt.
"I...I..." Mulder looked down, embarrassed, and when he looked up again the woman was not there.
No, it was the C.S.M, sitting in his bed, just lighting up, a cigarette between his lips.
"Now, Mr. Mulder. I would have thought you'd know that."
THE END
