IV.
Are we solitary planets traveling through time and space or are we twin stars orbiting around one another in perfect synchrony, only shining the brightest when together?
And why, oh why is it sometimes so hard to spot the difference?
X
Work kept them busy with paperwork for the rest of the week, but in the tiny space of their basement office, the pull got impossibly harder to ignore. A sigh from her, and the hairs on his arms stood up; his tongue rolled around a sunflower seed, and she couldn't stop thinking about his mouth.
By Friday afternoon, Scully was almost suffering. He was both way too close and not close enough all the time, distracting her wholly with every little thing he said and did.
At three o'clock, she couldn't stand it anymore.
"Wanna come over tonight?" she blurted out, aiming for casually but failing miserably.
Fortunately, he was suffering from just the same kind of distraction.
"Come over?"
"Yeah. Dinner at my place? I haven't prepared a proper meal in a long time."
"Sounds great. You want me to help?"
Scully pondered the idea of Mulder in the kitchen, but decided they probably shouldn't operate knives next to each other right now.
"No. You can bring the wine."
And, just like that, suffering had turned into exquisite agony.
X
When seven o'clock came, Scully was well prepared. The chicken was roasted, the potatoes mashed, the salad dressed.
There was make-up on her face, her hair was in curls, a short dress was hugging her body.
He was on time, holding a bottle of wine and flowers in his hands, swallowing hard, when he saw her.
Mulder knew almost every version of her, but this one was new to him.
The way she looked at him made him nervous, and he was kind of glad when they were sitting at the table, dinner on their plates. He complimented her on the chicken, even though he didn't really taste it, but he had a dawning suspicion that he wasn't here for the food anyways.
One glass of wine turned into two, as their plates were emptied and pushed aside. He couldn't stop looking at her. Her hair curled around her ears almost playfully and her dress revealed more of her body than she usually allowed him to see. Her tongue darted out to lick her lips, and his eyes flickered back to her face.
"Mulder," she finally said, and he lifted his eyes just a few more inches to meet her eyes, her deep blue eyes.
"Thank you for dinner, Scully."
"You're not leaving, are you?"
"I don't think I am, am I?"
She nodded.
"I want you to stay. The night. With me."
His stomach did a somersault, as her words sunk in.
"Scully..."
"I can't stop thinking about you, Mulder. Comity... that wasn't us, but it was. I remember bits and pieces, but I missed the whole picture. And I keep wondering. I want to see you. Feel you. All of you. It drives me crazy and I can't move on. Just one more time. One more time, Mulder. To answer all the questions."
She put her hand on the table, and he reached for it, taking it into his.
"I'm asking you to do this, Mulder, and maybe I'm asking for a lot. One more time. To move on. Please. Please..."
Already, he was tugging at her hand, and she was falling into his arms, her second "please" dying on his lips. She opened her mouth immediately, not giving him the shadow of a doubt that she really truly wanted this. He found wine, pepper and lemon in her kiss, but underneath those flavors there was the one he had missed so much. Scully, just Scully.
Scully, who had marched into the woods with him, her thick parka swallowing her whole. Scully, who had stood in the raining dung with him. Scully, whom he had almost lost but gotten back. Scully, who had followed and trusted him over and over again. Scully, just her, always her.
She moaned into his mouth, and heat was coursing through his veins. The kiss went on and on, as tongues stroked each other, as he was falling into her, just like she was into him, but the angle was just a tad awkward. Eventually, she got up from her chair, and, with infinitive grace, took a seat on his lap, straddling him. Her dress rid up, exposing a sliver of thigh, and his hands slid down her side, cupping her waist from both sides. He could feel her warmth through the silky material, and the pressure of her weight on his lap was exquisite.
And, still, the kiss went on.
Her hands tunneled in his hair, mussing him up, and finally his lips broke free from her mouth, traveling lower, kissing a line along her jaw to her collarbone. She gasped, as his tongue joined in, licking the delicate skin at her neck.
"You smell so good," he murmured, and she sighed, as her head fell onto his shoulder, as she repositioned herself until the vee of her legs was right above the hardness in his pants. His hands on her waist clenched, and then he pulled her onto his lap even further. Spreading her thighs just a bit wider, she moved over him without shyness, creating the sweetest kind of friction.
"What do you like?" he murmured into her hair, sucking her earlobe into his mouth, and she shivered almost violently.
"This, I like this," she stuttered, and then he could feel her nimble hands working on the buttons of his shirt until the fabric fell apart. Sitting up, she let her eyes travel over his chest, let her fingers follow shortly after, running through his coarse chest hair, circling the hard peaks of his nipples.
Mulder pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and watched her watching him.
Her face clouded for a moment, as she found the scar from his gunshot wound, the one she had put there, and then she bent forward, kissing the puckered skin tenderly.
"I'm sorry I hurt you," she murmured against his flesh, but he shook his head.
"You saved me. You've saved me over and over. From them and from myself."
Her lips wandered from his scar over his chest, and when her teeth grazed one nipple, he inhaled sharply. Using her tongue, she soothed the sensation before repeating it on the other side. Between her legs, she could feel him twitch in response.
Then, for a moment, she allowed herself the luxury to pause on his chest. Pressing her ear to his skin, she found the reassuring sound of his heartbeat. It went hard and fast, pumping life and excitement through his body.
His arms closed around her back, anchoring her in the moment, but then he moved down her spine until his hands were cupping her buttocks. He massaged her flesh with bold fingers, going lower and lower until he'd reached the hem of her dress. She'd opted for stockings instead of pantyhose, allowing him access to the soft skin of her thighs, access to so much more, and then it was her turn to suck in a breath.
She sat up once again, rubbing deliciously over his bulge. His hands enveloped her hips and moved up, taking most of the dress with them until it was bunched up and he could see her panties, ivory and lace. The fabric was impossibly thin, and he could smell her wanting him. Lifting his hand, he let one finger run over the roughness of the lace, and it was more a tease than a caress, but her eyes fell shut and she inhaled deeply. He could feel her heat, and he stroked her again and again, until, ever so slowly, one finger slipped underneath, touching her so very intimately.
"Yes please," she gasped, and he caressed her once more before stopping right over her clit, applying gentle pressure.
"You wanna come or play?" he asked, and she circled her hips, causing his finger to slip between her folds until it was perfectly positioned at her entrance.
"Are you sure you can deliver?" she asked, arching up an eyebrow, and he added a second finger to his first one, waiting for her decision.
"I'm known for my determination," he stated, lifting one corner of his mouth, and she tilted her pelvis just a bit further until he almost slipped inside. Almost.
The softest moan escaped her lips, and he almost lost it. Almost.
"I find it difficult to come from fingers alone. I don't want to put that kind of pressure on you and me," she finally confessed, and he wanted to protest, wanted to make it oh so good for her, but decided that this wasn't the time, wasn't the place to prove a point.
"Can I play, though?" he finally asked, and she laughed out breathlessly.
"Be my guest."
And with her permission, he pushed his fingers inside of her, once, twice, deeply. He could feel her muscles fluttering around him, and the pressure in his pants got even more urgent, as she sighed.
"Mulder..."
And he played, played her so well, and even though this was new, he somehow knew how to touch her. Or maybe she would react to him no matter what just because it was him.
When his fingers slid out of her after a while, they were damp, and she watched with parted lips, as he brought them to his mouth, licking them clean. Her eyes widened, pupils dilated, and his face twisted in pleasure.
"I've been wondering since Comity," he finally said, and when he met her eyes again, they were burning with raw intensity.
"I can't believe you did that," she uttered, and he pulled her into his arms.
"Oh, believe me, I'm gonna do so much more before this night is over," he promised, lips crashing into hers, sharing her taste with her. Need pulsated deep within her, and with every stroke of his tongue, it grew hotter and louder. Seeking some kind of relief, she circled her hips anew, and from below, he pushed into her.
His hands were on her, all over here, as if he couldn't decide where to touch first, but then they settled on her breasts, cupping them and finding their prominent peaks through silk and lace.
Gasping into his mouth, she bit his lip just this side of gentle.
A loud groan emanated from his chest, and she tore her mouth from his, watching him with hooded eyes.
Her cleavage line had slipped out of position, exposing another sliver of ivory.
"Is this the underwear?" he managed to ask, and she nodded wildly.
"I wanna see it," he said, and it wasn't a question.
Scully got up on wobbly legs, and he watched her as she blew out all candles but one. Her hair was utterly disheveled, her lips swollen, wrinkles all over her dress.
Mulder took a mental photo of her, filing it away in the cabinets of his mind.
"Let's go to bed," she finally said, giving him a look that sent shivers down his spine.
Hurrying to get up, he almost tumbled over his own feet, but then his hand was in hers, and she was guiding him towards her bedroom, the remaining candle in her other hand. She put it on her nightstand, before reaching around her dress, finding the zipper. He watched her, utterly mesmerized, and then the dress flowed down her body before landing in a puddle at her feet. She stepped out of it, stepped out of her heels as well, standing before him in the prettiest set of underwear he'd ever seen, but maybe he wasn't that objective anymore.
"Oh, Scully," he breathed.
"Your turn," she simply said, and he shed his own clothes in haste until his state of dressing matched hers.
Her gaze wandered from his toned legs over his black boxers to his broad shoulders.
"You're so beautiful," she said, and he almost blushed under the sheer intensity of her gaze, finding it hard that she was speaking about beauty while standing there, looking as if the word had been created solely for her.
She was the first to break the stalemate, turning towards the bed and crawling to the middle of it on all fours. He was over her within seconds, covering her body from behind, biting into her shoulder.
"You're done playing then?" she asked in a husky voice, and he surprised her by licking down her spine.
"I'm just beginning," he murmured, bypassing the clasp of her bra and moving towards the sweet swell of her ass. He softly bit into one cheek, and she gasped, falling flat onto the bed. His hands found the hem of her underwear, stilling for a moment.
"I'm gonna take that off," he said, and he did so, pulling lace and stockings down her legs. Moving up again, he undid the clasp of her bra, gently pulling the straps down her arms until nothing else was covering her milky-white skin.
"Yes," he said, "oh yes. Turn around?"
Following his demand, she moved on the bed until she was spread out in front of him in nothing but candlelight. She was slender and curvy at the same time and above all else, it was still Scully, still her. It was the familiar blue of her eyes looking right into his very core, was the familiar shape of her hands. Just everything else in between was excitingly new, the perfect heaviness of her breasts, the dusky pink of her areolas, the wide flare of her hips and the small triangle of short curls at the juncture of her thighs.
His hand moved reflexively to his groins, squeezing his aching cock. Licking her lips, she followed his movement.
"You want me to take care of that?" she asked in the breathiest voice, but he shook his head.
"No, not now. Right now I wanna share one of my favorite fantasies with you."
He watched in awe, as her thighs fell apart, as her hand moved between her legs.
"For years I've been dreaming about my head between your legs. I wanna lick you, I wanna suck you. Until you scream my name. Do you think you might like that?"
She nodded wordlessly, and he captured her wrist, pulling her hand to his lips and sucking her fingers, the ones that smelled like her, straight into his mouth. His tongue swirled around the digits, as he gave her a little sneak peek of what he intended to do to her. Her eyes fell shut, and then his lips replaced his fingers, as he was kissing her once more, kissing her like she'd never been kissed before, not even by him. She was panting, when he left her mouth, when he moved lower, focusing on her breasts for some delicious minutes.
"This," he whispered, licking around one hard bud before sucking it into his mouth. "We didn't do this in Comity."
"No, we didn't," she managed to say.
"I've been wondering. So much."
"Me too."
"You're perfect."
She laughed out and he moved lower, his tongue dipping into her bellybutton before sliding further down. Making himself comfortable between her legs, he brought his palms under her buttocks, holding her in place. Ever so helpfully, she spread her legs, granting him access, and he inhaled deeply, taking another mental photo, one for the lonely nights.
"Please," she finally whispered, and with one last shuddered breath, he lowered his full lips to her, kissing her so very intimately for the first time. Then he opened his mouth and licked her firmly from bottom to top. And again. A gush of wetness hit her center, and she was almost embarrassed because she was sure he must feel it, but he simply held her in place, groaning into her flesh.
Deciding to consign herself to his intimate caress, she grabbed fistfuls of sheets in her hands, wrapping her legs around his shoulders.
Then his lips were around her clit, suckling gently, and she officially didn't care anymore. All that was left were his lips on her, all that was left was the vibrating sensation beginning deep in her body. He licked and he sucked and he moaned and just when it was almost too much, his fingers joined in, entering her in one long stroke.
She came, long and hard, pulsating against his lips, cursing softly and thanking God at the same time, because this answered so many questions at once, so many.
Her legs fell apart, utterly boneless, but he wasn't done yet. In a move no one before him had ever made, he pushed his tongue into her, fucking her deeply while his nose bumped against her clit. She cried out, and then his thumb flew over her anus, rubbing her, and it was almost too obscene, but at the same time it was Mulder, and she trusted him infinitely. Almost against her will, she came again on the wings of her first orgasm, crying out his name.
"That's it," he murmured, "that's my girl," kissing her one last time before emerging from between her legs, and she expected a smug grin on his face, justified so, but all that she found was vulnerable reverence.
Unexpectedly, she was at the brink of tears, and then she was in his arms again, skin to skin, and he was soothing her with gentle words and caresses. In urgent haste, his boxers were pushed down, and then he was in her palm, hard, hot and velvety at the same time. With a whimper that betrayed his need, he shoved her hand aside.
"Please, I need," he managed to say, and she moved with him until he was on his back and she on top of him. And under the safety of her covers, they met again, as she welcomed him into her body. Just like the last time, he filled her completely, stretching her almost painfully, and his hands flew over her, touching her everywhere at the same time.
"Scully," he breathed over and over again, and she fell down onto his chest, finding his lips, as they began the ancient dance of men and women.
"I want..."
"What do you want, Mulder, tell me."
"You. Everywhere."
Using his last amount of strength, he rolled them around until she was on her back, until he was enveloping her completely.
"This okay?"
"Yes, God yes," she answered, wrapping her legs and arms and heart around his back.
And he rocked into her, rocked into her for all the questions, all the answers, and with every thrust, he discovered some piece of himself in her. Nobody had ever accepted him the way she did, nobody had ever looked at him like Scully, so pure in bliss and wonder.
One more time, she'd asked for one more time, and Mulder made sure that this time, they would remember everything. He tried to prolong the inevitable for as long as possible, but soon he was losing control.
Her fingers were digging into his ass, pushing him even deeper into her, and he looked down at her beautiful face, taking another mental photo, one that would probably kill him with sheer longing for the rest of his life.
"Look at me," he rasped, and her eyes flew open, displaying everything that was. Deep and wet and blue, he thought, and then he lost control, pounding into her without sense or rhythm.
She moaned his name, clutching him tightly, and for the third time that night, he could feel her orgasm rolling through her in mighty waves, as, she too, lost control.
"Come for me," she whispered, and helpless against the onslaught of feelings, he obeyed, releasing in hot spasms deep inside of her.
Releasing more than just his semen.
X
The first thing he noticed afterwards was the thump-thump of her heartbeat. The second thing was her hand combing through his hair. He was lying on her chest, probably crushing her, but as he tried to move aside, she protested with a meow, holding him firmly in place.
"This is part of the fantasy," she finally murmured, and Mulder nestled deeper into her embrace, as the utmost feeling of being accepted washed over him.
"Dana," he whispered, just because he liked the feeling of her first name on his lips in the raw hours of the night.
Her fingers paused for the fraction of a moment, before resuming their caress, slowly lulling him to sleep.
Eventually, the change in his breathing pattern told her that he'd dozed off, but Scully didn't mind. As a physician, she knew it was quite a normal post-coital reaction for a man and as a woman, it gave her some time to process all things.
Now she knew.
Her "sex with Mulder list" was brim-full with anecdotes and information. He'd answered almost every unspoken question, and before the night was over, she wanted to get the rest of them. She wanted him to come in her mouth, and she wanted to watch his face while he did so. She wanted to wake up in his arms, sore and satisfied from a night of passion.
But first of all, she wanted water.
Disentangling himself from her snoring partner, Scully padded into the bathroom, cleaning herself. She debated for a moment whether to use a robe or not, but in the end, shyness won. Before covering herself, she studied her body in the mirror. Did she look changed? Her lips were pink and a bit swollen, and so were her nipples. Scully couldn't see her clit, but she was pretty sure that the little bud was probably redder than usual as well after all the attention it had gotten. There was a reddish spot on her shoulder where he'd bitten her, and she was glad to find real evidence on her body.
Finally putting on her robe, she moved to the kitchen, getting a glass of water and drinking it all at once. Her mind was going a mile a minute, still replaying everything that had happened, and so she missed his approaching footsteps until he was suddenly right next to her, gloriously naked and utterly disheveled. While he didn't seem to share her modesty dilemma, the expression on his face was almost shy nonetheless. To put his mind at ease, she looked him fully in the face, giving him a warm smile.
"Water?"
"Yes please. You were gone. I thought..."
She shook her head.
"I was thirsty. Also, I remembered dessert."
"There is dessert?"
An eyebrow arched up, as a suggestive glance traveled down her body, and despite the fact that he'd just touched and licked almost every inch of her, she had to blush.
"Ice cream. You want some?"
"Yes, please. Why are you wearing this?"
He tugged at the flimsy sash of her robe, didn't even intend to open it, but it fell apart nonetheless.
"Oh, sorry..." he began, but then he couldn't look away, and if possible, she was even more stunning in the aftermath.
"It's just," he looked up, giving her an apologetic grin, "you're so damn beautiful."
The blush on her cheeks intensified, but she was brave enough to push the garment down her arms.
"It only seems fair," she said, gesturing at his lack of clothes.
Looking down at himself, Mulder experienced a moment of hesitancy.
"Or I can get dressed. If that's what you want."
Taking a deep breath, she answered, "What I want is ice cream. Maybe another glass of wine. And then I want to go down on my knees and I want you to come in my mouth. Is that OK for you?"
He gulped hard, finally nodding.
X
Ice cream led to fellatio let to another sweet recovery phase led to even more sex and a shared shower sometime after midnight. It was almost 1 am when they finally fell asleep, helplessly entangled in each other. He was spooning her from behind, one hand cupping her breast, and if they hadn't been so damn tired, one of them might have realized the absurdity of doing something so right, so earth-shattering just one more time. They'd closed a gap, crossed a line, and those who'd uncovered the truth – can they possibly move on and leave it behind?
Tired as they were, both of them basked in the afterglow, happy that they'd managed to answer all the questions Comity had left.
And when they awoke in the next morning, perfectly vulnerable in each other's arms, even sunlight couldn't chase away the intimacy of the moment. He didn't kiss her, wasn't sure if he was allowed to, but they shared sweetness and breakfast before he said goodbye, leaving her alone on a bright-new Saturday morning even though every part of him wanted to stay.
To be continued...