TITLE: RUBY (3/8)

AUTHOR:Ary adventure with an erotica twist and plenty of angst

SPOILERS:Up to Season 5, but definitively before 'The End'

KEYWORDS:MSR

SUMMARY:Mulder doing a profile, Scully working undercover, a bad guy roaming loose, and feelings best kept hidden come out in the open...

DISCLAIMERS: My name isn't Carter, so you know they're not mine

AUTHOR'S NOTES:We're still dealing with sex references and adult content in this part. Don't say I didn't warn you beforehand.

I'm not writing the lyrics to "Lady in Red.
Guess that if you're old enough to be reading this,
you're old enough to know that song.

OUTSIDE THE STARDUST NIGHT CLUB AUGUST 10 9:28 P.M.

I'm feeling a little better. Just a little. But I'm not betting on this comfort to last forever. I know darn well what is going to happen here tonight and I'm not at all happy with the idea. There're too many things at stake, far too many things that can go wrong for me to feel comfortable tonight.

Besides, I'm also feeling a little embarrassed. I've been here fifteen minutes and I've already recognised some 12 undercover FBI agents who work with Stan Carlbadier. If they've seen me, they have appeared not to notice.

But they're not stupid. Monday morning the whole building is going to be buzzing with the news... 'Spooky' Mulder was seen at a strip club! And he was there to watch how the demure 'Ice Queen' bared it all! Told you he had the hots for her! Told you they are having an affair!

Yeah... I've heard the rumours. Enough of them, anyway, to know that my fellow colleagues are a tad too interested in my relationship with Scully. I even heard there's an ongoing betting pool to be collected by the first who sees us kissing in public.

I believe that one as much as I believe the one that we got married at the hospital when Scully was dying of cancer. Seems that someone saw Father MacCue walk into her room while I was inside. I find it hard to believe that people have nothing else better to do than discuss if we're having a relationship or not.

Anyway, my presence here has surely rocked the rumour mill. Which is making me even more nervous. It's going to be somewhat difficult not making a fool of myself in front of all this guys when Scully comes out on stage.

Maybe the sight of Scully stripping will get their minds away from my reactions. Curiously enough, I don't find that thought comforting; it's more like an irritating idea. I wonder how many of the guys in here will still be able to see the agent and not only the woman after tonight... probably not many.

And I feel angry and sad at the same time. Scully has fought so hard to show that she can play this game as well as all the other boys, and now all that effort is about to come tumbling down due to this absurd mission.

Knowing Scully, this was a risk she decided to take. For she's not only risking her physical integrity, she's also risking her reputation as an agent. I'm not sure whether Skinner and Carlbadier understood that when they asked her to do this.

And that brings me back to here, to now. I'd be lying if I said I'm not interested in watching her just wearing a tiny g-string, I'm human, after all. But I'm also here to back her up when she comes out of that dressing room and has to face the undercover team. No one would dare to say anything in her face, but I want to make sure no one says anything behind her back... at least, not tonight.

With that in mind, I walk inside the night club. I can only hope everything will turn out all right.

The minute I came into the night-club I began searching around for a tell-tale shade of red hair among the patrons. I notice two men with red hair sitting together in the middle of the room, and another one sitting with a larger party at the end of the stage.

I quickly dismiss the three of them as suspects. Our guy worked alone and he didn't seem the kind of person that would come with a group, then separate long enough to kill his victim, and rejoin the party as if nothing had happened.

That scenario just didn't fit with the mental image nor with the internal profile I had of this guy. I was almost sure he was around.
I could almost sense him... Call it a hunch or intuition, but I knew this guy was around, somewhere.

I also knew then and there that he wasn't going to sit down and enjoy the show. He would wait in the shadows until Scully was finished and then he would try to reach out for her.

And the only way he could get close to her was by placing a wager on her. Without much hesitation, I went straight to Mike, the bartender. I asked him if there was a way to make sure that no one, and I meant, no one, placed a wager on a dancer. He told me I could just pay a 200 dollar fee to put the particular dancer above wagers. But, he warned me, that didn't mean the dancer would want to go out with me.

I nodded my understanding as I reached for my wallet. I knew for sure that Scully would rather die (or shoot me) than accept my wager. But it never hurt to be on the really cautious side of things.

"Which dancer are you interested in, anyway?" he asked.

"Um. The new one. The redhead. Ruby."

Mike eyed me suspiciously, and turned to reach for a blue bottle behind him.

"You're only interested in her? We got this nice Italian chick that... "

"No, I'm only interested in Ruby."

Mike got the bottle and I got something cold and hard poked against my ribs. I was so worried about putting Scully at a safe distance from any other psycho that might be roaming the club tonight that I fell for the oldest trick in the surveillance/undercover book: an agreed signal among the agents and the possible target.

"Put your hands on the counter where I can see them."

I recognised Carlbadier's voice. "Easy Stan, it's only me."

Carlbadier's gun left my side as he turned me around "Christ, Mulder what the hell are you doing here? I told you yesterday that I didn't think it was appropriate for you to show up here."

"Why? Does it look like I'm working undercover or something?" I asked, attempting to sound convincing, and knowing darn well that I wasn't fooling anyone.

Stan Carlbadier sighed, defeated. He had worked with me before. He knew I was a lost cause. I guess he was also aware of the strong feelings I have towards my partner, or he wouldn't have mentioned the 'emotional attachment' on the first place.

"You're not going to make trouble around here, are you?" His voice was weary and I couldn't help but wonder how many hours had gone by since Stan Carlbadier slept. Well over twenty four was my educated guess. Which meant he was just too tired to try to argue with me.

"No, unless Tom Colton shows up and attempts to do something stupid"
When in doubt, mumble. When in trouble, go for the amusing remark, for the lighter side of things. If it didn't get you off the hook, at least you bought yourself some time to get out of a tight spot while the others try to figure out what you meant by it.

Carlbadier chuckled at this. "Always the same "Spooky" Mulder, right?"

"You know what they say: once a spook, always a spook." Humour seemed to be working just fine.

"Be a good boy and stay out of this, ok? Mingle with the crowd, have a good time, get drunk if you feel like it... but leave Scully alone, ok?"

"Just answer a couple of questions and I'll be out of your way."

"Shoot." Maybe I should warn Stan about saying that particular phrase in front of Scully. Then again, he still hadn't done anything to deserve becoming Scully's practice target.

"What makes you so sure the killer is going to show up here tonight?
How can you know he'll bite the bait and go for Scully? I mean, his attacks have been so random that it's hard to pinpoint where he'll strike next."

"I sent a couple of guys out yesterday morning to distribute fliers announcing the Stardust newest sensation, Ruby. They covered all the areas where this guy has appeared. They even posted some larger adds in the alleys. We can only hope it'll interest him enough as to show up here. Next question?"

"How are you planning to spot the guy? I mean, he's not walking around carrying a sign saying "I'm the Redhead Killer" or something"
Though I tried to make the question come across as a light joke, we both knew it was anything but.

Stan just smiled at my attempt for lightness. "Now that I think of it, your profile didn't mention anything about a sign... Seriously, Mulder. Our friend Mike here is the only one who can accept wagers. He's to notify us if anyone shows an unusual interest in Agent Scully."

"So that's what the trick with the blue bottle was about?" I asked, although I already knew the answer to that one.

"Precisely. Don't worry, Mulder. He won't get near her. We won't let him. I won't let him." We looked at each other for a few seconds, and I got the feeling that this man has just given me his word of honour, something he didn't do often or in vain.

I felt like shaking hands with him, but instead of that I just shrugged my shoulders and remained silent. I watched as Carlbadier turned around and went back to sit at the end of the bar, where he could see Mike's signal.

I asked Mike for a screwdriver and wandered into the club, looking for a place to sit. I spotted an empty stool just two places away from the central stage and claimed it for myself. I casted long sideways glances on both sides, but it seemed like I was the oddball between two different parties. This suited my plans just fine. I wasn't in the mood for small talk, anyway.

I settled down and prepared for the wait.

I still can't believe half the things that happened tonight. Everything happened so fast that my head is still spinning and I can't still figure out what the hell was going on. I've come across x-files whose occurrences were far more simpler than what happened in here tonight. I still can't believe it.

And this from the guy who has an "I want to Believe" poster in his office, and who seeks the truth as a way of life.

Weird.

I remember telling you that I sat on a stool and got prepared to wait until something happened. Turns out I didn't have to wait long.

Fifteen minutes after I sat down, I felt a hand on my shoulder. A female hand. If I had to be 100 honest my stomach did a double flip for about 7 seconds. By then I knew it wasn't her hand. I'd know her touch anywhere.

Looking up, I noticed it's Candy's hand. The blond woman looked at me, not really smiling, but amused. I also noticed that whatever it was she was feeling, it did not reach her eyes. And it made me nervous as hell. It felt like a very bad omen.

"You Ruby's friend?" she asked. I nodded, not knowing how to answer correctly.

"She wants to talk to you." And, with that, Candy turned to leave. I got the idea, and got up to follow her.

The guys on both my sides were looking at me enviously. I told the one on the left to save the seat for me and I followed Candy backstage.

She motioned me silently into one dressing room. I paused before going in. I mentally braced myself for whatever confrontation might have awaited for me inside. Drawing a huge breath, I knocked on the door.

"It's open" came Scully's reply. From her tone of voice, I figured she wasn't happy to have me around. I opened the door and stepped inside. Scully's back was to the door,
and she's reclined on a chair. The muscles in her back looked so tense one could think they'd burst any moment. Had the circumstances been any different I would have tried to give her a massage, kneading deeply into those knots that seemed to be plaguing her...

Time for a reality check... Scully would have probably shot me if I had come within a foot from her just then.

"Mulder, what are you doing here? I told you before I don't need your protection", she asked, without even turning to face me. I didn't need to look at her face to know just how upset she is about my being there.

But... what could I tell her? A lie? Or would it be better if I finally behaved like an adult and told her the truth? I leaned against the wall and stuffed my hands in my pockets before replying.

"I didn't come here to protect you, Scully. You don't need my protection. You're a grown woman, and a trained FBI agent. If anything should happen tonight, you'd be more than capable of handling it yourself ... and, should you need help, you have a dozen undercover agents outside more than willing to start a shootout. So I don't think you need my protection."

I could hear her sharp breath intake. I guess she wasn't prepared for my answer. Heck, I wasn't prepared for it, either.

" You didn't answer my question. What are you doing here?"

I got to handle it to Scully. She never looses her composure. And she went straight for the jugular. As usual.

" I came here tonight because I thought you might need a friend." I knew I was risking a lot by telling her this, by letting so much of my true feelings for her shine trough, but I was desperate to keep our communication open. So many things have been left unsaid in the last few months that I'm afraid one of these days the walls holding them in will crumble and we'll end up saying something we would definitively regret later.

" A... friend." A pause. Just that. I wasn't getting any other kind of reaction from her, and I couldn't help thinking when did things between us began to go so wrong. There had been a time when even her pauses were full of meaning, with a complex language in themselves.
All I was getting then was a blank.

5 years of work developing our infamous psychic communication all go down the drain. I don't think she had been able to fully understand what I've told her, and as sure as hell I didn't have the slightest idea of what was going on inside her head.

The silence was making me uncomfortable. I shifted on my feet, carefully considering what to do next. Scully hadn't even flinched at my statement and was certainly taking a long time to say something. I finally gave up.

"Sorry Scully. I guess I was mistaken. I'd better go now. See you on Monday, then." I turned around to leave.

"Wait."

I paused with my hand on the doorknob... my heart missed a beat or two while I waited for her to continue. I didn't dare to hope for her acceptance, and yet, I was doing just that. Hoping against hope.
Always a believer of lost causes.

" I-I'm sorry, Mulder. I'm just nervous as hell for having to do this. I really appreciate your concern but... "

This was it, then. She's leaving me out in the cold. Again. Like she did when she found out she had cancer. Or when Emily died. Or after her near-death experience in that bridge. Once more we're back to being a couple of strangers living in a not-so-agreeable silence. Barely partners and certainly not friends. Again.

"But I guess I didn't expect your friendship offering at a moment like this."

I was still not moving. I couldn't. I needed to hear what she had to say. My whole existence depended on it. Maybe there was hope for us, after all.

"I'd really like it if you stayed around a while. Maybe we could grab a coffee afterwards... " Her voice was calm and almost expressionless. I knew that tone of voice. It belonged to the always professional Dr. Dana Scully.

I turned around and tried to catch a glimpse of her expression, but it was no use. Scully knew as well as I did that, while I wasn't being able to read her voice or body language, I could still read her eyes.
And they speak louder than everything else when she is under stress or in pain. They betray the best of her lies, her most composed attitude, her deepest fears. She knew it and she hid them from me.
Perhaps it was a wise decision. I don't think I would have been able to deal with whatever it was that I might have found in them just then.

"Now, please go, Mulder. I need to finish my make-up."

A stern, Skinner-like "dismissed" wouldn't have been as clear as her words. I let out a sigh (relief? regret? or maybe I was just holding my breath?), and left the dressing room, feeling a little bit less unsettled than when I had gone in. Perhaps there was still hope for us, after all.

So many different ideas and emotions were swirling up inside me that I chose to shove everything down until I had more time to analyse them. I just knew one thing for certain: after that night, my relationship with Scully would never be the same again. For better or for worse. The stakes were high, and the bets had already been called. Nothing left for me but to wait and see what hand would fate deal for me. For us.

I'm so angry I can feel my blood boiling. The same lanky fellow from this morning has just emerged from her dressing room. Not that her name is on the door or something like that, but I can sense her.

Sarah. My Sarah. Getting ready to stand naked before the lustful sinning eyes of dozens of strangers.

I might have been able to forgive this indiscretion. After all, all women are the same, always wanting to hear nice words about how good and how young and how pretty they look. For God so fit to curse them with the sin of vanity since the birth of Eve.

But this shameless flaunting of her lover for all the world to see, I can not condone it. Mine is not the rage of the cheated husband, nor the anger derived from a shredded honour. Revenge won't be exacted to satisfy my aching male ego, or the punishment set as an example for all sinners to see.

Killing them both will be an act of justice, both human and divine. I shall be both judge and executor, avenging common decency and the tarnishing of the word of the Lord.

I relished the image of finding them together, of seeing her eyes widen in realisation of what had she done. Watching him trying to explain the unexplainable, to justify the unjustifiable. To try to talk his way out of the mess his carnal weakness had got him into.

He will surely tell me he didn't know she was a married woman. He will undoubtedly try to convince me that it was her fault, that I as a man know what it is like when the heat of the flesh is unbearable.
He will possibly try to bribe me into letting him go unharmed.

And he will fail in all accounts.

For I will kill them both.

Tonight.

I went back to my seat. Miraculously, it's still empty. The guy on the right started telling jokes about me having a hot date after the show. I gave him my best "drop-dead" stare and he eventually got the message and shut up.
And not a minute too soon. Just as he became quiet, the announcer introduced "the new Stardust sensation, the one and only, Ruby". The announcement was greeted with cheers, wolf whistles and loud applause and a very un-rational part of me felt somewhat proud. Not many guys can say that their woman attracts so much attention.

My woman. Who am I kidding? Scully is as mine as the elusive truth I have been searching for half my life. I may be totally hers, alright, but that's quite different.
"That your lady friend?" whispered the guy on my left. I grunted an affirmative answer and thought I detected a note of envy and something that seemed like a new-found respect for me. It has always struck me as funny how having a gorgeous woman by your side changes the way you're perceived by your peers. As if having been able to conquer such a desirable female somehow validated you as a human being. Who knew? Maybe Scully was indeed my human credential, after all.

"You're a lucky sonofabitch, you know that?" This time there was a definitive note of jealousy in his voice.

I couldn't help but smile at that one. Yep, her brother thinks so,
too. Not that I'm lucky, though. Just the part about being a sonofabitch. A sorry sonofabitch. I know I deserve that one. All in all, Bill Scully behaved very gentlemanly. Had it been my sister the one agonising in that bed, I would have killed the bastard responsible for it with my own bare hands.
The music began to play. The tune sounded familiar somehow, and I decided it must be an old song if I could recognise it. "Lady in Red". How becoming.
And, suddenly, there she was. A vision in red. My heart jumped and skipped and soared. She's perfect to my eyes and to my soul. Achingly beautiful and distant. Ethereal. I could spend the rest of my life just looking at her.

Scully was starting to sway to the music. The red kimono robe opened a little with every step she took. I caught a glimpse of her stockings and the garter belt. My mouth went dry, and I could feel the beginning of an erection start growing again, against my will.
I know. I know. I'd been mentally preparing myself for this since I left the boutique this morning. But my rationalisation wasn't as good as I thought. Heck, even my late night fantasies have fallen short.
But nothing, no rationalisation, no cognitive knowledge, not even my wildest dreams (wet dreams, if I should be totally honest), could have prepared me for this. My arousal was reaching limits I thought I had reached a long time ago. But I was wrong. There seemed to be no limits to what Scully could do to me. Just looking at her moving in time to that slow sensuous song was driving me wild with wanton. I was experiencing for the first time the sweet torture of physical desire for the woman you love.
As I stared with my mouth open, Scully proceeded to undo the sash of the robe. The darn piece of cloth fell slowly to her sides. The crowd went wild, cheering her on, applauding, shouting encouraging words for her to bare it all.

I just sat there, petrified. All traces of rational thought were quickly abandoning my brain, while feelings were taking over my whole self. Love, lust, awe ... I didn't even try to sort them out. It would have been impossible.
Off went the robe. Scully stood still for a second, waiting for the right note to continue her stripping number. But a second was all that I needed to permanently imprint her image in my memory. She was now mine forever. I started taking a mental inventory of the goddess dancing not 6 feet away from me...

Shit. I'd turned Scully into a deity. I'd never be able to work with her again. Ever. I had the distinct feeling that I had really fucked up our partnership this time.
And this time it really wasn't my fault. And it wasn't her fault either. On second thought, this could be her fault. She knew I would hunt her down until I found her. She had to know. She knows me better than anyone, she knows me better than myself, sometimes.
So, if she knew I was coming, she shouldn't have chosen this attire. She even had the chance to stop me from watching her performance back there in her dressing room. She .
Whom am I trying to kid? Scully didn't have the slightest chance to stop me. She knew it, I knew it. That's why she didn't try to stop me. Once I make up my mind, not even a freight train at full speed could stop me.
And I definitively had my mind made up on this particular issue .
But still, she could have chosen to wear something a little bit more demure ... Yeah. Sure. She's supposed to be a stripper, what did I expect? A flannel night-gown? Scully was wearing what she should be wearing to keep up her cover. I was the one who's having a hard time with it.
Maybe hard wasn't the most appropriate word at the moment. Difficult.
Impossible. Hard was something I already was. Crude? Yes. But I've never been one to ignore the truth. And the truth was that Dana Scully had got me so hard I thought I was going to burst.
And I still had my eyes glued to her feet. It was all I could do to avoid loosing my restraint. But my libido, my damn fucking libido decided to make his triumphal entrance in that precise moment.

Well, sanity, it was nice knowing you.
I couldn't stay watching at her feet forever. Consciously or unconsciously I was going to take a look at the nude body of my partner and best friend. And, given the choice, I'd much rather do it in a conscious way. Therefore, I began the journey into my self-destruction.
I gazed at her shoes. High heeled and the shade of blood and, by the looks of it, quite expensive. I'd never imagine I'd get to see Dana Scully on a pair of stiletto heels, but I guessed tonight will put an end to all my "nevers" regarding her.
I looked up a little higher. She's got great legs. I mean, it's not like they go on forever, like model legs, but hers are strong and lean and well-formed, and those heels were doing wonders for them. Either that, or the satiny-like sheer of the stockings she was wearing.
I kept working my way up. Those smooth and shiny stockings were held in place by a lace garter-belt, which in turn gave way to... oh God. I had stumbled across her g-string, what little there was of it, anyway. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.
It was just too much for me to handle at that time. I decided to avoid that tempting lace and satin imagery and to settle on her belly. I tried getting lost in her belly button, but I couldn't concentrate properly anymore.
I decided to skip her breasts all-together. Not that it was easy, though. Funny how I had never noticed how full they are. And they looked so soft and beckoning encased in that red satin bra. As if they were begging to be released. I surprised myself when I noticed my fingers had been tracing small circles on the bar surface. My hands were aching to touch and caress her breasts and to softly arouse her nipples.
I shook my head to clear my thoughts in an attempt to restrain the urge that was searing my whole body. I lifted my gaze once more and settled on her neck to prevent it form wandering downwards. I have touched it enough times as to feel I had reached a comfortable place,
a warm, welcoming place in her body. I have always been fascinated by the way the soft curve of Scully's neck blends into her collarbone. It's so graceful, and yet, it has a certain force you can fail to notice at first sight. Delicate enough that you can see her pulse beating underneath it. I have lost track of the times I have wanted to kiss her in that spot, feeling her pulse come alive under my lips.
My eyes darted towards her mouth. Oh, God, I love her mouth! A mouth made to be kissed and nibbled and sucked and ravished. More than once I've imagined how her mouth would look after a hungry and passionate kiss, her lips swollen and slightly open. And she's got these pouty, full lips that look so tempting, even when she's not wearing lipstick. Not that I'm complaining tonight. She has on this fiery shade of red, making them look fuller, more luscious than usual.
You see, Scully has this little habit that would be annoying if it wasn't so endearing. It is that sexy nervous tic of licking her lips when she's nervous. It can be terribly arousing, even more due to the fact that she's not doing it in order to seduce me. But that's exactly what it does for me. This habit of hers has driven me crazy more times than I've cared to count. More than once I have lost track of what I was trying to tell her because of it. Her tongue on her lips makes me ache to feel it on mine, inside my mouth, running it along my jawline and down my throat. If I were to be perfectly honest, I would have to say that I had already envisioned that sweet tongue of hers caressing the length of my shaft. That's got to show how deeply engraved in my fantasies is this woman that I love.

What makes all this more bittersweet is the fact that she doesn't know how much power she has over me. She has no idea how long it has been since that morning in the office when I looked up and instead of seeing Agent Scully I saw a beautiful woman named Dana. She's actually clueless to the fact that she drives me wild with desire.

Which was what she was doing to me right then. I was so aroused that I was literally gasping for breath as I saw her wet her lips with her tongue one more time.

To make matters worse, she had decided to highlight the beauty mark above her upper lip. I've never understood why she chooses to hide it under her make-up. Come to think of it, it's probably better that she does. I wouldn't be able to concentrate if I had to look at it every time I talk to her.
I then decided to risk it all and take a look at her eyes.
Shit. Oh fuck. I was doomed.
Scully was looking straight at me.

END RUBY (3/8)