This chapter contains sexually explicit material. Like, a lot of it.

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE:

Mulder Manor
Beverly Hills, Los Angeles
February 20, 1986
Thursday

"Quos amor verus tenuit, tenebit."
- Seneca

He was drunk. Not with wine from the wrap party, but more than that – there was a taste on his tongue that was better than wine, better than anything else he had ever tasted in his life. And his heart wouldn't quit its intense pounding against his chest when he woke up. His head was spinning, flying, and it wouldn't settle back down on earth. He felt like he drank a whole carton of wine; he was paying for the feat physically, but his soul was singing. His soul was alive.

If it was any indication, when he opened his eyes in the morning and found himself bare naked beside the most beautiful woman in the damn world, he hoped that what happened last night felt more real to him. He wanted to see it the way he saw movies in his head. He wanted to remember it for the rest of his life, to reach into the movie in his head and convince himself that what happened last night was, indeed, real.

Mulder slowly propped himself up on the white sheets of his bed with an elbow, not taking his eyes away from Scully's face. He had woken up with this lady in the same bed more times than he had dared to count, but this was certainly the first time that he had found her as naked as the day she was born: her back to the mattress, one hand atop her bare stomach, breasts with light red scratches (from him, of course), her breath on his nose. The green quilt covered them both waist down and he was glad for that assistance. It was taking all of his will power at that moment to not further encourage his morning erection; his penis was already doing salsa at the sight of Scully.
Yes, they had done it. Maybe there was no turning back now. Sure, he tried to the very end to convince her that they didn't need to make love just yet. They could revel in their honest confessions for the night and let the days, weeks, months take them where they needed to go. But he was silenced when Scully's tongue jammed into his throat. From there on, it was a free fall.
He dropped back onto the pillows, forcing his mind to remember everything. He had a fantastic memory – in Harvard, they even said that he was borderline eidetic. However, his memory was failing him now when he wanted it the most. He could see glimpses of last night - a kiss here, a thrust there, the smell of their sex in his room, her orgasm – but he couldn't recount it all. He wanted to see it in his head, like a reel from his favorite movie.

Oh God, what was he thinking about, anyway? He's in bed with Dana Katherine Scully - the woman he loved more than anyone else in this world; he loved her with such passion and intensity that it couldn't match anything he had ever felt in his life … yet, it still didn't feel real at all.

Was that a good or bad thing?

Scully stirred gently, removing her white arm from her stomach and draping it instinctively on his chest. He shied away from the feel of her bare palm on his also bare chest, and this simple action of his woke Scully up.
Her eyes opened slowly, blinking away the pinpricks of light that were slicing through the half-closed draperies. Her gaze immediately fell on his equally disheveled form.

"Morning," she said, smiling lazily at him. Mulder returned her gesture, loving the way her eyelids fluttered when he leaned in and kissed her on the forehead.

"Morning, too," was the only thing he could say back, apart from leaning his head on a buttressed hand and watching Scully adjust to reach his position, watching her pull up the blankets to cover her chest from the cold, and watching her grin that lilies and carnations grin with such intensity that he swore that she was glowing and he swore he could die a happy man at that moment.

Everything was too good to deny right now. Everything was too perfect to put away. This was everything he had ever wanted.

How did everything end up to this?

"Mulder," she whispered, drawing him back to what was happening in front of him. Reaching out a hand to cup his cheek, Scully screwed one eyebrow up. "What are you thinking about?"

That what happened last night wasn't clear enough for his liking and that here he was, in bed with the woman he loved, yet there were so many barriers bringing them apart.

He brought one hand to the only piece of accessory that he left on her skin last night: her cross necklace. He fingered it gently, moving an inch closer to her body. "I love you," he stated, not proclaimed. "I don't understand how I got here - how we got here - but I do love you. I never expected that you'll give me this and I'm still not asking you to do that."

Scully's collarbone was extensively visible as she sucked in the jolty morning air around them. "You want to take this back? This was a mistake for you?"

Mulder dropped the cross back on her white skin, transferring his hand to her shoulder. The heat of her body was tempting and it was taking all of his forty years of dealing with women to not simply give in and start making love all over again. No, Dana Scully was too precious to him for that.

"I'm not sure of what I want … but here's what I'm sure of: I want whatever you'll want. I'm fine with that. I could live with that."

"But," Scully started, her voice breaking, "I want you to want this as much as I want it. Don't you understand, Mulder? I wanted this to happen; I want US to happen."

"Scully," he began to protest, but was cut off when Scully lifted the cross back up with her own fingers and suddenly, he was silenced by the déjà vu of her action.

"Why did you give me back this?"

Okay, easy enough to answer.

"Because you were leaving, I guess … I never wanted you to leave without that, your necklace is a part of you, a big part of you… and I never thought…"

By the look on her face - the wide eyes, suddenly flushed cheeks, clenched teeth – he clearly was giving the wrong answer. But the wrong answer's the truth, actually: there was no particular reason why he gave her necklace back to her. It seemed like the most logical thing to do back then when he wanted to dance with her.

"I'm sorry, I'm not exactly good at this." Mulder caressed her cheek, hoping to ease away some of the tension there. "Tell me what you want to hear."

"I want to hear the truth from you."

"Fine," he agreed. That shouldn't be too hard. "Truth is my whole body, heart, and soul's telling me that this is right - that this is possible, that a woman like you could want me as much as I want you. But the rational part of me is telling me that this isn't at all logical. How could anyone as beautiful, as young, as perfect as you could, could …"

"Mulder, stop that. I'm not a fragile thing! Yes, I am young, but this is only because you gave me back my youth." She probably noticed the bewildered expression on his face, so she explained further. "There was a point in my life wherein I felt as if I had become older than my age. I was only in my teens, yet I felt as if I was already sixty … and here you are, in your forties and you act as if you were just twenty today! You have so much youth and life in you that I was taken in." There was a smile on her face - shy and begging for him to understand. "If you want to know, I fell in love with you a long time ago. It only took me Vegas and that kiss to confirm it."

"You don't mean that."

"I certainly do."

"That isn't possible. I mean," he raised a hand and tried with his best to illustrate his point, "how could a twenty-year-old in love with me? I'm fucking forty and I have a daughter and I'm not exactly a mature man at that -"

"It's possible. It already happened. For me, it just happened. Did I want it to? No, I didn't at first … but now, I do." Scully moved her body an inch closer to his, her breath almost fluttering on his face. "I think you do love me, Mulder … but the problem is that you haven't accepted it yet."

"How can you say that?" Mulder sat up, darting away from her gaze and resting his back on the headboard. "I love you, I told you that. The reason why I never wanted this is because it's too deep for you. Too deep for us."

"Any deeper than how I feel for you?"

Never trust himself to be able to outlast an argument with Scully. How the hell could he dispute that?

"Maybe just as deep. I don't know." It was his turn to imitate Scully's ailing first grader pose. He cradled his legs in his biceps and hugged them tight to his chest. "I don't want this to be anymore complicated than it already is."

"I think this is all because of you haven't fallen into this yet … you see?" She also sat up, but did not acclimate herself beside him. However, she did place a hand on his arm, which made a part of him feel better. "I've had. I've admitted that I love you a long time ago and I was just waiting for the right moment to tell you. I was also afraid of rejection - more than afraid, I guess - but I was more excited by the fact that I could free myself from the constraints and just be me. You changed me in more ways than I could imagine. I want to share your, this, gift with you. Last night just pushed me to my limits."

"I've fallen, Scully," he alleged, shrugging off her hand. "I've admitted this a long time ago, too. But there are just so many things …"

"You're right too, you know." Scully agreed too fast for his mind to process. "If you look at it this way: I'm only your co-star here, an extra even. You are the director and the star. This is your production, your script, your concept, your life … and I was just lucky enough to be here, at the right place and the right time, for the ride." Her head bent down, eyes falling to his toes that were curled up underneath the sheets by the intensity of her words. "This wouldn't really affect me. You have more at stake here: your reputation, your daughter, your friends …"

"I'm only trying to protect you. Soon, you'll be a movie star."

"That wasn't what I wanted from the start. I just wanted to dance." A tear sprang free from her lids. He wondered how many times they have cried in the last twenty-four hours. He wondered if they could still afford the feat. "Maybe I just wanted something more." A hitch in her breath made his heart flip-flop. "Maybe I'm wanting too much from you."

Scully rose up from the bed and began to walk to the door when Mulder realized that it was wrong - her analogy was wrong: It may be his script, his movie, his concept … but she was the story.

This was his movie and the story was all about her.

"No, Scully," he captured her wrist and tightened his grip around it. "Don't. You're not wanting too much. Stay. I want this, too. Last night wasn't a mistake. Last night will never be."

From her achingly beautiful bare back, Scully twisted her head to view him from the corner of her eye. Her unruly hair followed this direction, dropping to her opposite shoulder and splaying on her porcelain white skin. "What do you want to happen now?"

"I want to go forward."

There were no more hesitations, no more fears, and no more doubts. This was his heart in love at its purest form. He's taking that plunge right now. He's going to jump in with her and maybe stay with her in the bottom until they both drowned in this. He wanted to drown, with her. He wanted to drown in all of her.

The corner of Scully's lips crawled into an unsure smile, another tear sliding down her cheek.

"I want to go forward with you." He strengthened his conviction, voice becoming more confident. "I've always wanted to, it's just that there would be too many people in this."

Scully gave out a half-nod, worrying her tongue over her lips. "I know."

"And then there's the public … I don't want you to get hurt," he repeated, for the nth time that day. Fuck, he's going for the Guinness Book of World Records for the longest and most redundant morning-after talk.

"They don't have to know about this," she mended, finally bringing her body in with her head to face him, naked and all. He swallowed hard at the sight of her full torso, drifting his eyes to the spot behind her head to stop himself from literally jumping at her. She continued, "If that makes you feel better. We can have this for our own and then they could know later on. But this is about us and it should be about us, not them. I don't care how selfish that sounds."

She's right. She always was. And her selfishness was further convincing him of this decision. He did want to go forward. They would.

Mulder held a hand out to her, the sun's rays pelting on his tanned skin. "Okay. We'll go forward. They don't have to know … this will be our secret."

Scully finally completed her nod and placed her hand atop his, the paleness a perfect paradox against his skin. "Good enough," she replied, lifting herself to sit on the back of heels, baring the delicious curves of her body - from the protrusion of her hip bone to the alluring dip of auburn curls in between her shapely thighs.

That was his immediate breaking point.

Mulder drew forward on all fours, like a hungry serpent upon its prey, and descended his mouth with hers, drawing in her lips to taste her, all of her. The kiss at first was soft, morning-like, unsure, but as Softness and Unclear passed, suddenly, it turned turbulent, passionate. Mulder's knees buckled under him at the feel of Scully's tongue gently thrusting in his mouth, and he had to hold onto her shoulder to keep his body in his position.

Then, they needed to breathe, so Scully broke free from their kiss, only to resume this on his neck, sucking gently on his tender flesh that awakened his other member below. He straightened up, mimicking her seating position. His hand found the back of her head, pressing her closer to his skin.

"Tell me you want this," he murmured, voice ten octaves lower and unrecognizable to his own ears.

She didn't answer at first, her mouth busy with pleasuring him. Those talented lips began to dance down, down on his chest, until it reached a nipple and she began to swirl her tongue on it. He had to bite the insides of his cheek to keep from moaning.

"I do want this. I've told … showed you how much last night." There was annoyance in her voice, and it was clear now that angry Scully and aroused Scully were two personalities he'd have to be careful with. Mixing them together would be like mixing Nitroglycerine and Oxygen. Chemistry.

As usual, though, all these thoughts were only thoughts and really, Fox Mulder couldn't just quit.

"I want last night to be as clear as day, Scully …" he trailed off, each syllable punctuated by a long-overdue moan. Scully's hands replaced whatever her lips left, and now she was dangerously close to his penis. When her tongue dipped down to his bellybutton, his stomach muscles tensed from the intense pleasure.
Thank God she was still listening, since she lifted her head just a few centimeters short from his groin. Her suddenly navy blue eyes were asking for the reason why. Her white hands returned to his shoulders and tightened their grip there.

"I'm sorry, does that make me a bad person?" he asked, as if it could make any difference. "I remember bits and pieces of last night, but I want to brand it in my memory, to remember it so clearly that I would be able to play it out like a movie in my head. I want to remember making love to you for the first time, Scully, until I die. Oh fuck, I must be getting old," he further justified, his fingers settling on her hip bone. Scully blinked, and in that instance, the lust in her eyes was replaced with tears that didn't fall.

"Scully, don't -" he tried to conjure, seeing her present condition, but he was cut off by her finger on his lips.

"You were, were crying last night, Mulder. You were… crying slowly, silently. I think that's the reason why it's not clear to you. It was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," Scully said, her voice shaking. Then, she smiled. "Of course, you withdrew before coming, if you're interested to know."

Mulder had to grin, her finger pressing onto his teeth. Of course, he would remember that despite his tears.

"I don't know how that makes me feel," Scully continued, the hand on his lip drifting down to his chest. "But I do know that it doesn't make you a bad person, or an older one. Your spirit will always be young for me."

That was how Scully viewed him: the young man. And he believed that as long as he was with her, he'd be that young man. She'd make him feel young.

"I'm too darn lucky … being with you," Mulder said, startling the Spunk by continuing her ministrations. He suckled on the flesh directly above her breast and found that when he did this, her skin rendered amazing gooseflesh. He liked the way her fingers tightened against his shoulders, fingernails pressing on him, and he also liked that he didn't care if she wounded him. Hell, he'd love it if she left some sort of mark on him.
That was the point when his mind sputtered a bit in response to his recollection. Mulder placed a quick kiss on her shoulder before lifting his head up to meet her eyes.

"Your leg? Did I hurt you last night?"

Scully gradually smiled. "No, you didn't. You were so careful and tender with me."

Just to make himself feel at ease, he drifted his gaze down to that antagonistic limb. The purplish region that had been strained by her triple jumping jacks was now faint, scattered red and blues. Mulder trailed a finger over the bruise to see if she would flinch. Scully didn't even make a single sound.

"Are you sure? Is it supposed to heal this fast?"

"I have pills. They helped. It's better. You can never hurt me, Mulder."

Still, in their frenzy last night, one could never be that certain.

"Mulder," Scully pinched the base of his neck to bring his attention to her face. "You didn't hurt me. And you never would. I'm fine." To plot her point, she stretched her neck up to kiss him - slow and achingly tender that had him gasping for more. The kiss convinced him faster than anything else could. Mulder grinned slyly and returned his moist lips back on her chest.
"I'll… I'll help you… remember… vividly," Scully was able to get out of her mouth in between gasps and he knew that speech was becoming less and less amiable, especially when her tight nipple was drawn into his mouth, and he began to cascade his tongue all over her smooth skin, memorizing her taste, memorizing her reactions.

"Mm- hmm," he replied, too intent on what he wanted to do with her body. A hand shot up and rubbed against her other breast and Scully's body began to go limp. Another limb circled her waist, holding her body to his mouth.

He'd make her react that way forever. He should create a new Spunk file: how to pleasure her 101.

Oh, whatever. Only Fox Mulder could think of these things during foreplay.

"And what did I do to you last night?" Mulder asked, releasing her nipple from his teeth but not from his mouth, the rosy-pink mound of skin still settling lightly on his lower lip. The hot air of his breath met with the wetness of her bosom, making Scully inhale deeply.

"You did … like that …"

"What did I do after I did this?" He was now teasing her, though he seriously thought that she wouldn't notice by the way her back arched and the way his voice sounded.

"You … you … umm, you … lower …" She was shy about this, and that made a part of him reek with male pride and another part of him swell. Enormously so.

"On your back," he ordered. Scully's eyebrows raised in tune with the gruffness of his voice, but did as he said, anyway.

Her auburn hair were like wildfire against the pale white pillows, the mellowed down rays of the sun bouncing off her skin and almost blending her body to the paleness of the sheets. Her legs parted of their own accord; stomach tightening in anticipation as Mulder dipped his head down, tracing the bumps and curves of her body with the tip of his nose.

He had to pause when he reached her pubic bone, the scent of her arousal overwhelming his senses. It was fire to his nerves, alerting every blood in his veins and something inside of him ticked – Jesus, he had to taste her, to feel her dripping on his tongue, and to have her come on his face.

"Mulder," Scully aired, hovering from extreme ecstasy and her last grip of sanity. "Y- you don't have … to do this … I've told you last night that you don … youdon't… have to again, I'm …"

Her last word was stricken with a large inhalation of air, and a moan that went straight to his cock. Mulder's mouth was now directly in front of her wet slit and he can't help breathing in her scent, breathing in that wonderful womanly scent that he now swore he'd never let a day pass without tasting.

Scully's thighs buckled in anticipation when she felt his soft stubble across her inner thighs. To keep her where he wanted her to be, he held down her legs with his hands, massaging the soft flesh gently to help her relax. When he was sure that her body was already slackened, he lowered his head down and began to taste.

She was like thick maple syrup with a tangy aftertaste of scotch - dire intoxication, overwhelming his senses. He wanted to lap at all the wetness she was generating, swirl his tongue in her until she was bone dry. She tasted too good; too darn good for him.
Whenever his tongue brushed with the underside of her clitoris, she would make the most adorable hybrid syllables of his name and when he used his teeth and fingers together, she'd buck almost immediately. He'd have to wait a few seconds to let go of her already sensitized body to have her breathing back to normal. Then he'd plunge all over again.
He had never tasted anyone this delicious before. All the previous women he had slept with painfully paled in comparison to Scully.

He sucked on her clit slowly at first, then forcefully, until she was rubbing herself on his face and he loved it, loved her scent, loved that he was surrounded by her until his face was dripping wet. When he increased the intensity of his lips on her engorged clit, it throbbed and he knew she was close. Hurriedly, he slid two fingers into her opening and pumped in and out, the slickness of her juices making the back of his spine tingle. Then, she lost it.
Scully climaxed with his name on her lips, her stomach pushing upwards to the heavens and making her rib cage painfully visible. He lifted his head fast enough to catch Scully's closed eyes and mouth wide open in a silent scream of his name.

Fuck it all. He's going to make her come like this forever.

Mulder's cock twitched and he had to place a hand directly over his stomach to stop himself from embarrassing himself. Did she have to look this beautiful when she's climaxing? He had never, honestly, seen anyone look this perfect at the peak of their ecstasy.

Shit. Maybe he DID embarrass himself last night.

Coming back to earth, Scully raked her fingers into his hair and pulled him up to her, using his roots as a rope. His large, lean body covered her small one like a snug blanket, and when they were face-to-face, Scully captured his mouth in a spine-tingling, head-shattering, toe-curling kiss. She drank whatever he tasted from her, swimming her tongue in his cavities and he was too weak and too aroused to somehow respond to all this.

She released him finally, or else he would've REALLY embarrassed himself to hell. Scully sighed contentedly, spreading her legs wider to cradle his erection in between, the tip of his cock brushing delicately with the insides of her vagina. Their mouths both opened in silent shock at the sensations it rendered.

"Wh- What's next?" he was able to stutter, somehow glad that Grammar had not yet decided to pack his bag and return until the session was over.

"I want to change the course a bit," Scully tinged, and Mulder immediately loved the way her accent sounded with dripping want. "I want to taste you, this time."

If it was possible, Mulder Jr. grew another length at her words.

But as tempting as it was to have her lips, teeth, and tongue all over his body … this was all about her. He wanted last night and he wanted this morning to be inexplicably the same, he wanted to adore her - to worship every inch of her. More than that, he wanted to remember this in his head with him pleasuring her - his deity, his love.

"No, next time," he consoled, kissing the top of her head. "Next time, not now. Now is about last night. And I don't think I allowed you to pleasure me that way, am I right?"

Scully shook her head no, dumbstruck by all of this.

"Good. So today's all about you, okay? I want to love you like the way I loved you last night." Mulder traced the sides of her breasts, raising more gooseflesh in his touch's wake. "Tell me what's next."

"You … you entered me."

If his penis had hands, they'd be clapping now.

Mulder captured her lips in another lingering kiss and he thrust his hips forward, slowly, teasing the lips of her sex, before slowly burying himself to the hilt. His erection felt the warmth of her womanly heat and he had to pull back from the kiss and tilt his spine to rescue himself from drowning in her ecstasy. If he'd get too much of her at the same time, he'd never make it to the ninth inning.
The sudden intensity of his pelvis on her own made Scully gasp, rendering Mulder in a moment of panic that he might be hurting her.

"Scully … Jesus, tell me … don't lie, please … am I hurting you?"

She shook her head no. During sex, Scully seemed to have misplaced her vocabulary.

"Please, tell me. Am I? Was it this painful … last night?"

Another shaking of her head. He's now officially confused.

"You had pain last night," he tried to argue, even if his hips were ordering him to pull inside and out and start that God-given natural rhythm. Sweat was staining his brow, the underside of his nose, and his neck. "A hell of pain, and I pulled back. I know I did. But you urged me on."

Scully's eyes flew open, her hands finding the crooks that connect his shoulder and neck together. "I haven't done this in a while and I have to admit that I'm a little sore …"

"Tell me that's the truth, please," he chugged out, breathing desperately to control himself. He wouldn't dare move until she told him that it's okay. Until he got the confirmation that she's not in any pain.

"That's the truth," Scully assured him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Mulder let out a small cry of relief. He then forged on, creating a rhythm of thrusting, circling, and pushing and pulling, withdrawing his cock from her and surging forward once again.

He's making love to her.

Making love to Dana Katherine Scully.

Imagine that.

Scully's legs wrapped around his waist, giving him deeper access to her body. He moaned aloud, throaty - primitive, and found her lips once again. When their tongues started to dance that dizzy tango, Scully began to also thrust towards him, matching his rhythm with her own; suddenly, everything was too perfect.

Too good.

Mulder sucked on Scully's collarbone.

Too fucking good.

She quivered underneath him, a warning that she's about to come again, and with this, Mulder stretched a hand down in between them, feeling for the alluring bundle of nerves that would make her lose herself beyond control. He made sure his head was upright when he touched her clitoris, wanting to see every single reaction of her body when she came.

A slight twist made her gasp, a dark flush coming over her cheeks.

A circle of his index finger made her close her eyes, as if in extreme pain, and then when his thumb met with his other digit to give her a squeeze - matching this with a particular powerful thrust, her vaginal muscles gripped his cock angrily and she came.

Her back arched, pushing her damp breasts against his chest, her eyes shutting close painfully as waves and waves of spasm darted from one body part to another. Sweat dripped from her forehead, her lips parting succulently, her sounds becoming louder and louder with each passing second that Mulder held onto her, watching her, loving the way she shrouded her cries with his own name.

"Oh God, Mulder! Mulder … oh fuck, Mulder …"

The massage of her orgasm on his cock was taking all of his willpower and he knew he wouldn't be able to last long. He was going to come, too.

He closed his eyes from her beautiful face reluctantly, knowing that if he wanted to keep the measures close, he had to pull out now. He thrusted into her twice before he completely left her sex, heaving his penis onto her stomach. At the exact moment his length scraped against her flat belly, it started spurting hot semen onto Scully's skin, over her navel, on her breast, on her rib cage, some landing on her inner thighs and some on his own. Mulder cried out as he came, chanting Scully's name over and over again until his muscles relaxed and he dropped heavily down on her.

For a few minutes, all he felt was Scully. Her hands on his back, massaging his tired muscles, her smooth legs slightly scratching his roughened ones, her tongue on the back of his ear, licking away rivulets of sweat.

Then it occurred to him that she was being crushed, since his weight was nothing to laugh at. He rolled over to one side, grabbing the sheets to wipe his fluids off their skins, before grabbing Scully to rest half of her body atop his chest. Her head pillowed on his shoulder, nose sniffing his scent, one hand coming over to wrap itself around his waist.

"I've never made love before," Scully whispered unsurely, her voice emanating from every corner of the room. Mulder's eyebrows screwed in its middle, his head moving to face a mound of red Scully hair.

"What do you mean?"

"I've had sex … but never have I made love before," she answered, stroking the underside of his belly, almost awakening his still recuperating organ. "This feels so good, so different … I think I've never felt this happy before, Mulder."

Happy: that had got to be the understatement of the century. He evaluated what she had said with his post-coital mind, thinking about how their age differences didn't seem to matter. Scully was in her twenties and she hasn't experienced making REAL love before. He's in his forties and he hadn't fallen in love this way before.
Diana was never love. Whenever they had sex before Emily's conception, he was too high with heroine to understand what it meant. Phoebe was an infatuation. Cindy was childhood's play. Unmentionable lady was unmentionable. And Janice was a bite in the dust.

Scully's different. Scully was the one. Scully was everything.

"I'm happy too," Mulder agreed, pressing a kiss on the crown of her head. "For so many reasons … but one of them is because you're finally, really, mine. As much as I am yours."

Scully smoothened her palm on his hip bone, brushing her lips with the sides of his chest. "Yeah," she sighed, her eyelids fluttering before closing into oblivion. Mulder ran his fingers through the fiery strands of her hair gently and felt himself also slowly drifting to sleep.

This was them sleeping skin-to-skin, side-by-side, for the first time ever as true lovers. A forward. A new salvation. A new reason to praise life all over again. A new beginning.

It was the exact moment he felt that he had finally jumped into this. He's fallen hard for this lady and he's not going to bloody deny it.

Spunk Rule #7 would be to love Dana Katherine Scully forever.

END OF CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

A/N: Thank you all for reading and reviewing. The reviews are amazing – I get excited whenever one of you out there tells me that you've read this story before and that you are rereading it again! But I also get excited when I read reviews from those who are reading this fic for the first time and are loving it all the same. So, thank you! So far, I'm writing the last few chapters of Spunk and I get my strength from all your R&R!