STARS ALIGNED
I.
Somewhere halfway around the world, a butterfly beat its wings. Do we know if it caused more than a mild turbulence in the air? Know if it influenced anything but the orchid petals a few inches away? And what about stars; stars aligned? Can they pull you and me into forces unknown, forces unseen? Can they burn us with cosmic energy or has the burning already taken place four years ago? Taken place in a candlelit motel room in Bellefleur, Oregon and in countless motel rooms ever since…
X
He almost came to his senses, as he pulled the crotch of her panties aside, as he pushed himself into her warmth. Almost. Something in the back of his mind reminded him that this was not right, even though the absolute rightness of her wrapped around his body was some kind of epiphany. The sharp pain of her fingernails cutting into his back made him groan, and some distant part of him was wondering, if she had even consented to this.
Everything was such a blur. One minute, she had been yelling at him, the next his hand had been tunneled in her hair, tugging hard. He remembered the perfect o her mouth had shaped right before he had crushed it with his lips.
Oh...
He could find the combination of cigarette smoke and anger in her mouth; a flavor he had not thought he would ever taste on her. She was his friend, his partner. His only companion on a path so full of forks and blind alleys. But right now, none of that mattered except for his hips pistoning forward, pinning her to the wall. She was warm and wet and for once, she wasn't disagreeing. Was she?
She could have stopped him, Scully was sure of that. True, he was bigger and heavier than she was, but she was quicker and more ruthless. She could have stopped him before his tongue had entered her mouth, before his hands had been under her skirt, ripping her pantyhose to pieces. Stopping him would have been reasonable and she always did the reasonable thing. So… why hadn't she? Stopped him.
Nothing about this made any sense, nothing about this case, this town, this evening. Her hair had been electrically charged ever since they had set foot into Comity, but that was nothing compared to the lightning bolts he was firing into her system with every move of his pelvis.
Oh my God, he was moving inside of her, so very deep inside of her. She had thought about it, of course she had, but this was so unlike any dream Scully had ever had about him. Was this even Mulder? This wild creature moving between her thighs, so hard and hot, beads of sweat forming on his furrowed brow. And was she even herself? And what about all the liquid heat melting her from the inside out?
The air was crackling, as her mouth fell open, as gasp after gasp pearled from her lips, and then he pushed her impossibly further into the wall, opened her thighs impossibly wider, hit her just impossibly deeper, and right before she exploded from the inside out, right before all the energy centered around their intimate connection, her eyes snapped open and so did his, and in that last moment, recognition washed though his orbs as hazel me blue, as storm met fire, but it was too late, too late to stop, too early to regret, and she shook deeply as she came all around him, tugging him with her, tumbling into that new kind of abyss until there was nowhere left to fall.
"Oh my God," on her lips and his name. His name. Always his name.
Dizziness. Heaving breaths. Aching joints.
The flap of a butterfly's wing.
Oh.
Oh ...
Oh fucking shit.
"Put... put me down."
Her voice was raspier than usual, her lips swollen, and Mulder followed her demand with cautions precision. He caught a glimpse of her pink folds, as his softening penis slipped out of her with a sad sound, and the intimacy of it was too much to bear.
"Scully..."
She cut him off by raising her palm.
"Don't."
She tried very hard not to look at him, as she tugged at her skirt to cover herself, as he rearranged his pants and fastened the fly.
"I'm..." she tried, before her voice trailed off.
"Sorry. So sorry," he mumbled, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides, but she shook her head.
"Not your fault," she managed to say.
He lifted his hand with the intent to cup her cheek, stopping himself in the last moment, unsure if he could ever touch her again.
"Dana," he whispered, but she squeezed her eyes shut while shaking her head.
"I have to go."
Then she was gone, and in addition to the slam of the door, Mulder could hear a sound he had not heard before in the four years of their partnership, not once. The key turning around in the adjoining door, as she locked it.
X
Slowly, as if on autopilot, Dana Scully made it into her bathroom. Her hand was shaking, as she opened the faucet to warm up the water, and her heartbeat was louder than the rush, almost deafening so. She could feel wetness gathering between her thighs, and then reality hit her with full force.
"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God."
Mulder's semen inside of her, running out of her.
"Oh my God."
It was almost a mantra, and realizing that there was something she needed more urgently than a shower, Scully closed the tap again, hurrying back into her room. With fingers still trembling, she shook a cigarette out of the box and lit it.
Inhaling deeply, she let the smoke burn her lungs, hopeful it could erase Mulder's taste from her palate.
Mulder's taste …
"Oh my God."
His lips were bruised, and he could still feel her kiss. The air in his room smelled like sex and her. It was a heady combination, her usual scent mixed with with the dark and rich flavor of shared passion.
Now that the haze of the moment was gone, regret was filling his very core. He had invaded her body without getting to know her, hell, they hadn't even undressed. He remembered glimpses of milky-white and pale pink, as he had tugged at and ripped her clothes, but he hadn't seen her. So many years, so many fantasies, and now the only part of his body that had actually gotten a show was little Bob down there. And he remained sated and silent.
Inhaling deeply, Mulder hung his head in shame. He'd spent years earning her trust – had he just lost it all in an angry quickie against the wall? And had she, he wondered again, had she given her consent or had he taken something she hadn't intend to give? That thought pained him more than anything else.
He dragged his feet towards the door, placing his flat palm on the wooden surface.
"Scully?" he whispered, and on the other side, he could hear a sharp intake of breath, followed by soft footsteps. Soon, he could sense her presence right behind the particle board.
"Scully?" he called once more, and this time, he got an answer.
"I'm here."
"Can you tell me what just happened?"
She shook her head even though he couldn't see it.
"Maybe you're right after all and strange forces are taking ahold of this town."
"Did I hurt you?"
"No, God no. You… no, Mulder, you did not hurt me."
"Did I… Scully, have I forced myself onto you?"
"No..."
"Why does it feel like it, then?"
"Mulder, this is not us."
"But we can't undo it, can we?"
A sad smile tugged at his lips, as he thought about the feeling of her in his arms.
"We can't."
"Will you… will you ever leave this door unlocked again?"
She put her forehead against the door.
"Mulder, it's not you I'm afraid of."
He let go of a deep breath, as some kind of burden was lifted from his shoulder.
"Scully, I tell you what we'll do. We solve this case, we leave this town and when we're back home, I'll make this right. I don't want to lose my partner. My best friend," he whispered, and he could hear a muffled whimper from the other side of the door.
"OK," she finally breathed, not knowing how exactly he wanted to make things right, but too scared to ask.
No more words were spoken that night, but he remained on his side of the door for a little longer and so did she; craving the connection, even in the midst of chaos.
X
We are but visitors on this rock, hurling through time and space at 66,000 miles an hour. Tethered to a burning sphere by an invisible force and an unfathomable universe. This most of us take for granted while refusing to believe these forces have any more effect on us than a butterfly beating its wings halfway around the world...
X
Dana Scully had always been good at lists. To do lists, shopping lists, bucket lists, pro and contra lists. Ever since Mulder had touched her sans touching her, she was obsessively going over a new list in her head: things she knew about having sex with her partner.
She knew how to kiss Mulder, knew the sounds he made in the back of his throat. She had smelled his arousal, had experienced said arousal unleashed in and all over her. She knew how it was to undo his zipper, and, for the fraction of a moment, she had felt the hard length of him in her hand. She knew that he stretched her wholly, remembered how utterly divine and forbidden it had felt. She knew that he could make her come in just a few minutes, fully clothed against a wall. That was that.
On the other side, there were the things she didn't know, and they filled a book. How did he look unclothed? How did it feel to be in his arms skin to skin? How would it be to kiss every inch of his body, to be kissed in return? What did he like in bed? What could he do to her with his tongue after practicing on all those sunflower seeds? How would he be if he wasn't so angry?
Scully had been careful, so very careful not to cross that line with him, and now she had and hadn't done it at the same time. The conundrum drove her nuts. How was she supposed to put the experience neatly into a box, to relabel Mulder as partner and friend, when there were so many unanswered questions left?
Would his five o'clock stubble chafe the inside of her thighs? Would she be able to wrap her mouth all around his thickness? Would he allow her to hold her and could she ever let him go?
As cosmic forces were unleashed, as planets and stars realigned without mercy for two girls and their town, Scully couldn't stop wondering.
X
When they finally made it out of Comity, New Hampshire, out of the reach of cosmic turbulence and star-crossed girls, the scratches on his back had just begun to heal. Scully was driving, not caring about stop signs or speed limits, just intent on leaving the last few days behind. She couldn't speed up fast enough to outpace the awkwardness, though. Mulder was silent next to her, fiddling with the radio station, and she was grateful for it. They cut the distance to the airport in record time.
Car rental. Check-in. Security check. Coffee shop. Gate. A half-empty domestic flight. They maneuvered through their back-home-routine without the soft comfort of routine to fall into.
Because things were different; fundamentally so.
Ever since their encounter in his hotel room, Mulder had made an effort not to touch her, and even though a confused and vulnerable part inside of her could appreciate the gesture, it only added to her irritation. Scully couldn't remember a time when he hadn't touched her, hadn't invaded her personal space and when he almost jumped next to the baggage conveyer belt after accidentally grazing her arm with his, she had enough.
"Mulder, for the love of God, would you just touch me?"
And, for the first time since that night, she lifted her chin, offering her gaze to him, finding remorse and hesitancy in his big puppy eyes. A shiver ran down her spine, and the first intake of breath was somehow hard, but then it got easier. She tried a smile, and he accepted it, returning one of his own.
"I'm trying to do the right thing," he whispered, and she rolled her eyes.
"Well, try again," she stated drily, "because this is driving me nuts."
Mulder chuckled a bit.
"Well," he began, opening his arms while giving her a lopsided grin.
Averting her eyes almost shyly, Scully took another breath before stepping into his embrace. His arms closed around her, palms drawing circles on her back, and she placed her cheek on his chest, like so often before.
The scratchy wool of his coat, the tang of sunflower seeds, his breath caressing her hair – being in Mulder's arms was utterly familiar and comforting, but at the same time, there was something new, something about the way her body reacted to his scent now that it knew him.
Mulder sighed, pulling her even closer.
"Thank you. For, I don't know, being my partner in this mess?"
She hummed, letting go of him while still being able to. His arms unlocked, setting her free.
"I will right this, Scully."
"Mulder, you don't have to right anything."
"That might be true, but, well, the least I owe you are new pantyhose."
She opened her mouth, but closed it again, lost for words and blushing.
He grabbed their bags and started to walk. She would follow, he was sure.
No matter how complicated things might get, there was still one universal truth: they always followed each other.
To be continued...