Title: Fire Author: Frances Hartman E-mail: franhartman@aol.com Rating: NC-17 Category: SR Keywords: Erotica, MSR Summary: A playful e-mail exchange gets out of hand, and Scully gets more than she ever expected. PWP. Disclaimer: The characters of Mulder and Scully as they appear on "The X-Files" are the sole property of Chris Carter, Fox Broadcasting, and 1013 Productions. The characters of Mulder and Scully as they appear in this story exist only in my fevered imagination. If Mulder ever behaved like this, Scully would have imploded a long time ago. Author's Note: This is an erotic fantasy. In real life, please practice safe sex. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx "The one advantage of playing with fire is that one never gets even singed. It is the people who don’t know how to play with it who get burned up." --Oscar Wilde FBI Headquarters 1:26 p.m. Scully was so engrossed in her file that she literally jumped when her computer beeped at her. Glancing at the screen, she allowed an unwilling grin to flirt with the corners of her mouth. Sure enough, the message icon in the corner was flashing. Poor Mulder. He was bored again. Gamely, she clicked on the blinking signal. Scully burst out laughing and looked over at her partner sitting not five feet from her. "What’s the matter, Mulder? Your famed powers of observation failing you today?" At that, he met her eyes and grinned, turning back to the keyboard to type furiously. A minute later, the terminal beeped again. "So what else is new?" she muttered, half-amused, half- exasperated. Realizing she wasn’t going to get anything done unless she humored her attentionally challenged partner, Scully began composing her response. Mulder grinned again when his computer beeped. At least she was playing, grudging though it might be. Maybe the afternoon wouldn’t be a total loss. He hit the Enter key to send his response. Scully sighed in exasperation, her fingers flying over the keyboard. Mulder raised one eyebrow fractionally. Right at this point, he couldn’t decide which part of her retort was more interesting. He opted for seriousness. Mulder covertly studied Scully’s reaction to his message, and his eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline. He had thought that "the real thing" they had been referring to was conversation, but judging by the deep blush on Scully’s cheeks, her mind was on something else entirely. Scully paused as she heard him typing again; evidently, he wasn’t finished. Which was good, she supposed; it gave her a second to compose herself. She knew Mulder hadn’t been deliberately suggestive, but that didn’t mean that her thoughts didn’t often go in that direction where he was concerned. She just hoped he hadn’t figured that out. Mulder realized that he was taking a risk with his implicit invitation, but he was curious to see how far Scully was going to take this. There was just enough of an erotic edge to their silent conversation to make things very, very interesting, if she chose to walk through the door he had just opened. He watched her intently. Which way was she going to go? Slowly, her hands lifted to the keyboard and paused there for so long that Mulder began to wonder if she ever planned on answering. Long moments later, there it was. Oh, my. Mulder squeezed his eyes shut as he went instantly from intrigued to aroused. He had his answer. She was stepping very delicately, but she was crossing the threshold. And as skittish as she was, he knew that to let her know how turned on he was would certainly result in her retreat. Mulder had no intention of letting that happen. He still wanted to play. Careful, man. Just be careful. As slowly as she had done, he typed his response. He stole a peek at her from the corner of his eye, careful to keep his face averted. She was flushed, and unless he was very much mistaken, as aroused as he was. What was going on in that mind of hers? His brow wrinkled briefly. No one? Well, he supposed that wasn’t too surprising. His super-reserved partner wasn’t usually very forthcoming with her innermost secrets. But surely, a close friend, a lover. . . Mulder was pretty sure he knew the answer to that, but for some reason, he felt compelled to ask anyway. Scully rarely showed her more vulnerable side to him; that’s what made this conversation so unusual. The corner of Scully’s generous mouth pulled up in a wry half- smile as she responded. Her smile faded as she continued. Mulder studied the screen for a moment, then quickly typed the words he was longing to say. Taking a breath and a chance, he punched the Enter key. Scully’s eyes flared, and unconsciously she slicked her tongue over her lips. What had she done? For that matter, what was she about to do? Mulder cocked his head at the screen. Interesting. Very, very interesting. And arousing as hell. Scully bit her lip. Just letting her mind explore this subject was raising her body temperature. And the fact that she was exploring it with was enough to make her aware of every nerve ending she had. Thank God he couldn’t see the pictures playing behind her eyes. Oh, Jesus. The mental image of Scully out of control in his bed was almost too much for him. Slowly. Be careful. Unconsciously, she shook her head as she typed. It was interesting how quickly she had gotten over her embarrassment, she mused. If she kept her eyes on the screen, she could easily forget that the person she was talking to was right there next to her. Mulder bit back a moan and silently cursed himself for starting this. Well, he sure as hell wasn’t bored now. If she hadn’t, he had plenty of suggestions. Christ. At this rate, he was never going to recover enough to get out from behind his desk. The moment after she hit the Enter key, Scully froze. Hell. Freud never sleeps, does he? She shut her eyes, hoping against hope that Mulder wouldn’t realize that her choice of the phrase "your partner" hadn’t been accidental. There weren’t too many men Scully couldn’t take down, so it wasn’t really the physical danger. The fantasy was dangerous because of the players involved. Mulder’s eyes narrowed. Half-understood signals were flashing in his brain, but the whole picture was eluding him. He decided to probe a bit further. She released the breath she was holding. His response was bland enough, all things considered. It was up to her whether she wanted to admit that she trusted him with the fantasy because he was the fantasy. Freely admitting her cowardice, she chose the easy way out. With a sudden certainty, Mulder’s intuition kicked in, and he knew what Scully wasn’t saying. It wasn’t just a fantasy about a faceless man taking control; it was about taking control. His breath caught in his throat as the images flipped through his brain at lightning speed. Pulse throbbing, he decided to paint some of those images for his "partner." Scully couldn’t restrain the tiny moan that escaped her as she read Mulder’s blunt description of her fantasy. Oh, God, he understood what she wanted. Of course. Only someone who knew her so well would understand. Only her partner would understand. It was barely a whisper of sound, but he heard it and sucked in his breath, imagining the same sounds escaping her in the throes of passion. His gaze shot to her face, and his mouth went dry as he took in the sight of her sitting rigid in her chair, eyes closed, her breath coming in quick gasps. Jesus. The phone rang. Mulder snatched the receiver out of its cradle and yanked it to his ear. "Mulder," he barked, annoyed at the interruption. Scully jumped at the sound of his voice, startling after so much silence, and the reminder of his physical presence proved too much for her to handle. Mumbling something about getting some lunch, she grabbed her coat and purse and hastily made her getaway. Georgetown, MD 6:38 p.m. Scully slammed the car door with a bit more force than was absolutely necessary before trudging up the front walk to her apartment building. She should be relieved, she told herself for the twentieth time that day. Relieved that when she finally got up the nerve to show her face in the office again, it was to find a note from Mulder, saying he’d gone for the day. Obviously, he was just as embarrassed as she was about their very personal conversation. At least she didn’t have to look him in the eye until tomorrow. And they certainly wouldn’t be picking up their "talk" where they left off. She was not disappointed, she sternly instructed herself. The rapid tattoo of her heels clicking on the hardwood floor of the hallway slowed, then stopped as she approached her apartment. There, taped to her door, was a plain white envelope. Forehead puckering in confusion, she plucked the white square off the door and quickly opened it, her eyes scanning Mulder’s familiar signature scrawl. You have three choices. Turn around and walk away. Come back in an hour, and as far as I’m concerned, this never happened. My word on it. Open the door and say the safe word. Popcorn, remember? We’ll talk about this before we decide whether to go on. Walk in and close the door. That will be the last choice you make tonight. Heart pounding in her chest, Scully crumpled the note between suddenly shaking fingers. My God. Could she do this? Could she not? She had no doubt that if she left, Mulder would be as good as his word. In a way, he had risked a lot more than she had. The hard part was over for her, she suddenly realized. She’d already admitted the truth, and he hadn’t thought her sick or twisted. The content of his note proved that beyond a doubt. And the chance to live out her fantasy. . .with Mulder, no less. . .made her weak in the knees. So that left options two and three. "I know exactly what breed you are, Mulder," she had said. Did she trust that to be true? Did she trust him? Taking a deep breath, she put her hand on the doorknob and slowly turned. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Slowly, the door swung inward as Mulder watched silently from the shadows. Inwardly, he rejoiced as Scully stepped inside and turned to close the door behind her, saying nothing. "Lock it." Scully swallowed hard at the sharp command from somewhere behind her. With a shaking hand, she reached up and did as ordered, closing her eyes briefly and leaning against the door. A heartbeat later, he was behind her, so close she could feel his body heat against her back. She opened her eyes to see his hands on either side of her, trapping her between him and the door, but not touching. Her pulse began to pound. "Don’t turn around, Scully." A shiver ran down her spine as she detected something in his soft voice she had never heard before. A thread of steel. An undercurrent of dominance, of mastery, that was completely at odds with her awareness of her gentle, sensitive partner. Still, the authoritative tone rankled. And if she were honest, a tiny part of her wanted to test him immediately, to see what would happen if she pushed him. Straightening her shoulders, she spun to face him defiantly. Immediately, his body flattened hers against the door, his hands grasping her wrists and trapping them above her head. Easily, he held her there simply with the weight of his body, his face very close to hers. "That’s not a good way to start, Scully," he breathed, eyes boring into hers. Her eyes widened as she stared back wordlessly. This dark, forbidding stranger might resemble her partner, but the stern, uncompromising man who held her captive was not the person she shared her office with. Mulder teased her, argued with her, and treated her like an equal. This man would settle for nothing less than her complete surrender. She could read it in his eyes. Instantly, Scully panicked, struggling like a wild thing in his grasp and wrenching free. Hastily, she backed a few steps away, watching him warily as he crossed his arms and simply looked at her across the room. Seeing him fully for the first time, Scully inhaled sharply, her pulse racing and her anxiety raising a notch. Mulder was dressed all in black, from the form-fitting turtleneck that stretched across his muscular chest and biceps to the tight black jeans that hugged his buttocks and corded thighs to his boots. The sleek clothing did nothing to hide the definition of his lean frame, nor the coiled tension pervading every inch of his body. His sleeves were pushed up, exposing his sinewy forearms and large, strong hands. Looking up at him, Scully felt vulnerable, tiny. Until that moment, she had never realized just how big her partner was. A muscle jumped in his jaw, and his eyes blazed dark and hot as he stared at her with an intensity that almost stopped her breathing entirely. He looked intimidating. Compelling. Powerful. Dominant. There was a charged silence, and finally, he spoke. "Come here," he instructed, in a voice as dark as the aura surrounding him. Hesitantly, Scully took one step, then two, and with a burst of adrenaline, dashed past him toward the door. She never even saw him move. Instantaneously, one long arm snaked out and caught her around the waist, lifting her off her feet as she struggled. "Let me go," she demanded, fighting like a she-cat as he bore them both to the ground and rolled on top of her. Easily he subdued her, pinning her hands to the floor on either side of her head. He loomed over her menacingly. "Don’t fight me," he growled as she writhed and bucked under him. "I don’t want to have to restrain you." Mulder was watching her carefully, and though her struggles never lessened, he didn’t miss the telltale widening of her pupils at his challenge. He smiled wickedly. He’d give her the fight she wanted first, but in the end, Scully would have her fantasy. . .and the night of her life. Letting his pelvis settle heavily atop her, he thrust his erection against her. Hard. "On the other hand, maybe you should keep moving like that." He chuckled dangerously. "I’m starting to enjoy it." In answer, Scully twisted her head to the side and bit down on his forearm. Hard. "Damn it!" he swore, momentarily releasing one of her wrists as he yanked his arm out of harm’s way. A second later, he had recaptured both of her hands in one of his, and with his free arm, tangled his large hand in her hair and yanked her head back gently. "That wasn’t nice, Scully," he warned, dropping his head to nip at her exposed throat. "Not nice at all." She whimpered in the back of her throat, trying unsuccessfully to throw him off of her with the force of her lower body. He laughed again, trapping her legs with his. "Go ahead and fight me then, Scully." Abruptly, all humor was gone from his voice. He was suddenly deadly serious, so threatening that for an instant, she was sure her heart stopped. "Fight me and see what happens." Scully was terrified. And very, very excited. The raging conflict inside her, as well as Mulder’s aroused body, held her immobile. Closing her eyes and turning her head to the side, she could do no more than whisper, "Don’t," in a small, pleading voice. "Don’t do this." "It’s not your decision, Scully," he murmured, lips grazing her ear. "Fight me or not. It doesn’t matter." His hot mouth traveled to the sensitive skin at the base of her neck where it joined the curve of her shoulder, and his tongue flicked out to taste her. She moaned softly. "The end result is still the same." She writhed weakly beneath him, trying to escape the surging pleasure of his touch as his mouth moved lower, brushing lightly against the soft upper curves of her breasts. "You can deny it or accept it. It doesn’t matter." His mouth hovered over the taut peaks, now straining against the silk of her blouse as his hot breath dampened them through the fabric. Instinctively, her back arched to bring his mouth closer, her eyes fluttering shut. He lowered his head, and the instant before his lips made contact with her aching nipples, he looked up at her. "You’re still going to beg." Without touching her, he pulled back, studying her face. Scully’s eyes flicked open, and realizing his tactic, her body dropped back to the floor as a soft whimper of frustration and unbidden desire escaped her lips. Swallowing hard once, then twice to ease the dryness in her throat, she struggled to find her voice. "I’ll never beg, Mulder," she said hoarsely, her tone defiant. "Never." Not for the first time, Mulder blessed the uncanny intuition he had where she was concerned. Underneath Scully’s bravura was a challenge, and he suddenly understood the real nature of his partner’s fantasy. Being subdued, having her power taken away was a rush, but the real foray into the unknown had to do with limit-testing. Mulder would bet his last dime that the real reason Scully had never shared this fantasy with any of her lovers was that she didn’t want to admit that none of them ever had made her lose control. That took time and patience, and in all probability, Scully didn’t know how to remain passive for that long. But Mulder was a patient man. How far could he drive her? How much could she take? "Never is a very, very long time, Scully," he murmured mockingly, his fingers tracing lightly over her palms. She shivered. "But that’s just fine. A very, very long time is what you want, isn’t it?" Something deep inside her tightened and she stilled, looking up at him with wide eyes. "It’s easy to say you’ll never beg, isn’t it? You’ve never needed to before." His tone was conversational as he leaned over her, keeping her wrists trapped with one hand and reaching over her head with the other. "No one’s ever driven you that far. No one’s ever made you burn hot and cold at the same time. No one’s ever made you feel like you’d die if they didn’t touch you. No one’s ever made you plead for it, cry for it. No one’s ever made you do things you never thought you’d do, just so they would let you come. No one’s ever made you scream and beg because you couldn’t help yourself." His eyes bored into hers. "No one’s ever made you lose control." Try as she might, Scully was unable to look away from his hot, hypnotic stare. Helplessly, she lay still, her assent evident in the gaze locked with his. Slowly, he nodded. "Tonight, you’re going to burn for me, Scully," he promised in a silky whisper. "You’re going to lose control for me. You’re going to scream for me." With a swift, efficient movement, he wrapped a scarf around her wrists, binding them together. "Tonight, Scully. . .you're going to beg." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Looking back, Scully couldn’t say for sure how they had gotten into her bedroom. Nor could she remember exactly how her clothes had been removed, but judging by their tattered condition, she would bet that a pair of scissors was involved in the process. And she couldn’t for the life of her imagine how she had remained unresisting while Mulder secured her to the bed in such a terrifyingly vulnerable position. Obviously, he had taken some time in preparation while waiting for her to come home. It was the only explanation for how quickly and efficiently he had restrained her, and in such a fashion that she couldn’t move at all. Using a curious combination of scarves, ties, and an odd metal bar, she was on her back, with her bound wrists secured to some point over her head. Her legs were spread wide, silken manacles binding her ankles while a metal bar was fitted between her lower calves, holding them open and immobile. Carefully, Mulder had slipped a pillow under her hips, elevating them slightly, and the result was total and complete. . .paralysis. Scully wasn’t too sure that the bonds were necessary; in point of fact, she wasn’t sure that she could have moved on command. Certainly, her body was no longer under her control, and hadn’t been since the moment her partner had promised her, in that darkly seductive whisper, that she would scream and beg for him before the evening was over. Even though it had never happened before, Scully believed him. Then again, if Mulder had instructed her to leap over the building, she probably would have done it. She might no longer be in control of her body, but it was clear that he was. "Close your eyes, Scully." Hesitantly, she did as he commanded, tense with mingled fear and excitement. A second later, she jerked as she felt something soft and fuzzy being pressed against her eyelids. "What are you-" "Shh." A moment later, he slid his hand beneath her head, lifting her for a moment as he wrapped a soft cloth around her eyes and tied it smoothly behind. "Cotton balls, Scully. That’s all." He pulled away, not touching her, but she sensed his eyes playing over her body. Nervously, she moistened her lips with her tongue. "Mulder. . .why. . ." It was amazing how her powers of speech had deserted her, she thought. Helplessly, she bit her lip, suddenly very afraid. Had he somehow maneuvered her into this bizarre position to laugh at her, or maybe just to leave her here? After all, it wasn’t as if she and Mulder were lovers of long standing playing a game. This was the first time they had ever been intimate. Was she right to trust him? Somehow, he sensed her fears. "All you have to do is feel, Scully," he said softly. "Just let go. You don’t have to concentrate on anything but the sound of my voice and the touch of my hands and mouth on your body." Through the sudden haze of desire brought on by his words, she smiled slightly. "Just your hands and mouth, Mulder?" "For now." His voice was very near her ear, and she shuddered at the sensation of his breath feathering over her delicate skin. "I’m sure if you want more, you’ll find a way to let me know." She frowned in confusion. "But…don’t you want more, Mulder?" There was a long pause while he evidently considered his answer. "I’ll tell you what I want, Scully." He leaned very close, his lips barely brushing her ear. "I want to see you come apart for me. I want to hear you moan, then cry, then beg, then scream as I make you come over and over again. I want to smell your heat. I want to taste you on my lips as you climax under my tongue. I want to feel you pulsing around my fingers as I slide them deep inside you. I want to touch you in ways I’ve only dreamed about for years, in ways you’ve never been touched before. I want to tease you until you think you can’t take it anymore, and then I want to tease you just a bit more. I want to drive you so far that you can’t think of anything else, you can’t bear anything else but the feel of me inside you." He drew in a harsh breath. "When I have all that. . .that’s when I’ll want more." "Dear God," she breathed, her pulse racing. She should have known. Jesus, she should have known that Mulder would be able to arouse her faster and more completely than she had ever been before, just by the sound of his voice. "Tell me what you’re feeling, Scully," he commanded softly. "I. . .it’s. . .there’s so much. . ." "Are you frightened?" "Yes. . .no. . .I’m not sure," she stammered, unable to think clearly. "Are you excited?" "I--no. No, I’m not." For some reason, it was important for her to deny the level of her desire, if for no other reason than to see what he would do. To see if he would stop. . .or if he wouldn’t. "Hmm. I don’t think you’re being honest with me, Scully," he reproved her gently. "I think I’d better see for myself." She shivered hard as he shifted, leaning over her, and suddenly she felt a cool stream of air between her breasts. Slowly, the caressing tendril of breath moved lower, meandering across her ribcage, down across her stomach and lower abdomen, and across the taut skin of her raised pelvis. A moment later, she gasped as she felt him direct the stream over slick, pouting lips of her core, then lower. Involuntarily, her hips jerked at the sensation of his breath probing inside her; just a tantalizing flicker, then nothing. "You’re very wet, Scully," he observed conversationally as he raised his head. "You’ve been lying to me. You are excited, and you told me you weren’t. I’m going to have to punish you for lying to me." He tilted his head as he studied her. "But that’s what you want, isn’t it? That’s why you lied. You want me to punish you." "No!" She shook her head, the only controlled motion she was capable of in her current position. "That’s not. . ." "Not what you want? It doesn’t really matter, Scully," he reminded her. "I can do whatever I want to you, remember? You can say no all you want, but it doesn’t matter. But don’t worry," he said soothingly, crouching down next to her and brushing the hair off her forehead. "I won’t hurt you, you know that. There are better ways of teaching you who’s in control. . .and teaching you not to defy me." "Why? What are you going to do?" Silently, she cursed at the plaintive tone of her voice, but Mulder seemed not to notice. He chuckled quietly. "Don’t worry. When it happens, you’ll know." Scully swallowed hard. She wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that. But once again, her body betrayed her. Her brain might not like it, but her nerve endings sure did. Involuntarily, her tingling nipples tightened even further, and the heated, moist flesh between her legs spasmed. Mulder laughed softly as he observed her body’s reactions. She shivered, realizing that he had once again shifted so that he was positioned between her spread thighs and his warm breath caressed her twitching wetness. "Oh, yes. This IS making you hot, isn’t it, Scully? I can see it. I can smell it. In fact, if I leaned forward just another quarter inch. . ." She moaned softly as she felt his lips just brushing her pubic hair as he spoke. ". . .I could even taste it. And you know what the funny thing is, Scully?" He pulled back slightly, keeping just out of reach of her straining hips. "I haven’t even touched you yet. So what have we learned from today’s lesson?" he asked, the gentle puffs of air that accompanied his words feathering over her sensitive flesh. "Words turn you on. You like it when I talk to you, when I tell you what I’m going to do to you. Isn’t that right, Scully?" Stoically, she remained silent, pressing her lips together tightly and turning her head to the side in defiance. Her show of bravado lasted only seconds, melting into another tiny moan as she felt the tip of his tongue tracing lightly just above the line of her bush. Teasingly, he drew a fine line of moisture across the edge of her curls, down across the crease of her left thigh. His mouth hovered over her for a moment before resuming the caress on the right side, feathering up the tender skin to return to his starting point, describing a perfect triangle without ever touching that part of her that was aching for his kiss. "Isn’t it, Scully?" "Damn you, Mulder," she choked out, her head falling back on the pillow. He smiled wickedly. "Since you won’t answer me, I can only assume I’m wrong. Is this what you want instead, Scully?" And he began a most refined form of torture that was carefully designed to drive her insane. Using just the pads of his fingertips, he began to stroke her body, trailing over her neck, her stomach, her feet, her sides, the insides of her arms, the backs of her knees, her collarbone, her inner thighs, her palms, her calves. Always light and teasing, always in a different place than the last. She began to twist against her bonds, seeking to avoid his delicate touch, or at least to force his caresses to where she wanted them most. Still, he resisted her unspoken demands, continuing to tantalize her with the utmost delicacy, his touch calculated to arouse, but never to satisfy. Helplessly, she struggled against her restraints, her desire increasing rapidly. She whimpered softly. "What’s the matter, Scully?" His voice was taunting, and like his hands, seemed to come from everywhere at once. "Do you want to ask me something?" Biting her lip, she strengthened her grip on her resolve. "Not even close, Mulder." He smiled approvingly. "You know, Scully, I would have been seriously disappointed if you had said yes. I’m only just getting started." His grin widened at her involuntary moan. "After all, this is a scientific process." She felt his body heat as he leaned over her, lightly tracing the curve of her ear with his tongue. "We’re trying to see how much you can take, right? How long your body can hold out before you just can’t stand it anymore." His mouth toyed with her earlobe, and she shuddered, silently cursing him for so effortlessly discovering that sensitivity. "I don’t want you to beg because you decide to give in to me, Scully," he whispered. "I want you to beg because you can’t help yourself. So don’t try to deceive me, because I’ll know the difference," he warned softly. "And you have enough punishment coming to you." "You still haven’t told me what that is, Mulder," she reminded him in a voice that was more breath than sound. "I haven’t, have I?" he remarked, getting up from the bed. "As I recall, you had your chance and decided you didn’t want me to talk. I think it’ll be much more interesting if you have no idea what’s coming next, don’t you?" Bending down, he brushed a soft kiss on her forehead. "Now don’t move. I’ll be right back." Quietly, he left the room, and a moment later, she heard him opening a cabinet in the kitchen. Within moments, it seemed, he was back, and she heard all manner of noises as he set a number of objects down on the floor next to the bed. "I may regret asking this, Mulder, but what are you doing?" A soft ‘sh’ was her only answer as he busied himself with his preparations, the sounds completely unrecognizable to her. "You had your chance, Scully," he repeated softly. A moment later, she gasped as she felt his tongue trailing over her sensitive palm. Carefully, he traced each tiny line and crease in her hand, bathing each of her fingertips in moistness as he briefly sucked them into his mouth. Taking her other hand, he repeated the process until she was quickly returning to her previous hazy state of arousal. And Mulder didn’t stop there. With serious thoroughness, he slowly but surely bathed her entire body in the erotic sensation of a flickering tongue bath. Working with a studious concentration, he learned all of her sensitive pleasure points, first on her arms, then her upper body, then her abdomen and stomach, then down over her thighs, knees, calves, and finally her feet, leaving no inch of her skin untasted except the very tips of her breasts and the aching wetness between her legs. By the time he finished, Scully was moaning uncontrollably, sure that every bit of her skin was ablaze. And still, it wasn’t enough. "God, Mulder," she panted, pride already forgotten. "I can’t. . .touch me, please. . ." "Not good enough, Scully." Lifting her hair out of the way, he traced his tongue over the nape of her neck, and unconsciously, she arched to give him freer access. Goosebumps broke out all over the surface of her skin at the sensations sparking from the contact. "Not even close." Using her own words mockingly against her, he sucked briefly at her neck, then sat up. A moment later, a sweet smell assailed her nostrils just before she felt a silky object brush over her cheek. Rose petal, she realized with a start, then gave up thought entirely as he began to stroke it over her body, echoing the trail his tongue had blazed. The slight moisture left behind made the silken petal drag just a bit, pulling another light moan from her lips as it passed over the sensitive skin of the underside of her arm, pausing just briefly to play in the hollow of her underarm before straying across her upper chest. Taking his time, he subjected her to the same agonizing torture she had undergone twice before, delicately teasing every nerve ending but the ones heightened to screaming sensitivity by the absence of his caress. Oh, yes. Mulder was right about one thing; he was a very, very patient man. And he was merciless. Time seemed to blur for Scully as he continued to tease and caress her body with a variety of objects: a feather, his knowing fingers again, an ice cube, his gentle tongue, the tiny bristles of a paintbrush, even the ends of his hair stroked over her super-heated skin until she was crying out at the slightest stimulation. After what seemed like hours, he finally pulled back. "Please, Mulder," she gasped, writhing in frustration. "I can’t take this. . ." "You can." His tone was implacable. Moments later, she felt his weight leave the bed and she heard a slight rustling. Dimly, she wondered what he would tease her with next. "Oh my God. . ." She shuddered uncontrollably as she felt the gentle, velvety touch of his silken erection brushing over her cheeks. "Jesus, Mulder. . ." She began to pant with desire as he stroked the head of his cock over her lips, tracing their outline teasingly, and blindly, her tongue darted out to taste him. She moaned with frustration as he pulled back, leaving her only with the faintest flavor of him on her mouth as he continued downward, tracing the line of her jaw with his own flesh. But even in this, he was careful and thorough, sublimating his own need for hers, as if he knew that the feel of his excitement would only rouse hers to greater heights. And damn him, he was right. "My God, you feel so good," she heard him murmur under his breath, and her body leapt in response. She felt his hardness brush lightly over the crisp curls at the apex of her thighs, and she squeezed her eyes shut against the surge of sensation. Shifting slightly, she could feel her moisture running freely between her parted thighs, and she arched in supplication. Ignoring her plea, he moved lower, stroking over her thighs and down her legs. Even the soles of her feet felt the touch of his steely erection, and not for the first time this evening, she silently acknowledged his mastery over her body and senses. Never, never in her wildest fantasies could she have imagined an experience like this. And then, abruptly, all sensation stopped. Scully held her body tensely, awaiting the next onslaught, and a startled gasp erupted from her lips at the first light, delicate contact of his fingertips on her nipples. The sounds were constant and unstoppable as she felt the gentle teasing against her aching, straining tips, first a soft caress that gradually grew in pressure and insistence. Flicking. Then tickling. Then a slight pinching with his fingernails, tiny needles of pain increasing the throbbing in her breasts. Then rubbing, harder now. Insistent. Then plucking and pinching, more forceful and intense, his hands cupping and massaging her breasts, easing the ache above but feeding the one below. Her moans grew sharper and deeper, matching the escalating intensity of his touch. Those moans turned to gasping cries as she felt his warm, wet mouth surround her left nipple, suckling gently as his tongue rubbed against the pebbled surface. With his free hand, he maintained his hold on her other peak, now rolling it firmly between his thumb and forefinger, milking it in a gentle rhythm that echoed the insistent motions of his lips and tongue. Blowing a stream of warm air across her damp flesh, he smoothly reversed his pattern, treating her other breast to the same erotic assault while he captured the first nipple between clever fingers, pinching gently. Awash with sensation, her hips began to jerk in time with the sucking of his generous lips. Choked, shuddering sounds fell from her lips in a steady stream as he began to nibble lightly on her, teasing little bites that sent darts of sparking pleasure-pain through her tortured body. As he gradually kissed his way down the taut flesh of her abdomen, Mulder raised his eyes to study her face, and what he saw made him smile painfully. It was obvious that any pride or defiance that Scully had at the start of their encounter was well and truly gone; she was inextricably caught in the web of her own passion. Her hips were in constant motion, or at least as much as her bondage would allow, her nipples were tiny, diamond-hard points of sensation, damp and straining from the caress of his mouth, and the hot, wet proof of her arousal was running freely between her legs. Nestling comfortably between her spread thighs, he once again blew gently on her aching dampness, exulting in her wild response. Easily, he parted her with his thumbs, exposing her innermost secrets to his hungry gaze. For long moments, he did nothing but simply hold her open and vulnerable, allowing her to feel the sensation of his eyes exploring her. "Please. . ." she whimpered, straining futilely against her bonds. "Oh, Mulder, please. . ." "Please what, Scully?" Bending his head, he kissed her between her spread thighs, nuzzling through her curls but stopping just short of the aching nub of flesh quivering for his caress. His thumbs rubbed lightly against the inside of her dampened lips. "Do you want my tongue, Scully?" "Oh my God. . ." "Tell me. Do you want to feel my tongue on your pussy, Scully? Do you want me to stroke my tongue over your clit?" He raised his head and gazed at her passion-twisted face. "Is that what you want, Scully?" "Yes, yes. . .please. . .don’t tease me anymore, Mulder. . ." Her voice was broken, tortured, and she seemed near tears. "Oh, please, I need--ahhhhh!" She broke off into a sharp cry as his tongue flicked lightly against her wet, protruding clit. A second later, it was gone. "I didn’t hear you, Scully." Mouth millimeters away from her, he teasingly allowed his lips to just barely graze her flesh as he spoke. "Tell me." "I. . .oh God. . ." "Tell me." She was panting now. "I. . .please. . .I want. . .I want your mouth on me. . ." He flickered his tongue over her again, just a split-second of sensation. "Where, Scully? Where do you want my mouth?" His tongue darted out once more, and she swallowed a soft shriek. "Oh, God. . .there. Right there. . .please. . ." "Here?" Employing just the tip of his tongue with the utmost delicacy, he traced over the tip of her wildly throbbing peak. "On your clit?" Scully was practically sobbing with desire, her head tossing back and forth on the pillow. "Yes, oh God, yes. . ." "Ah." He teased her for a brief moment more, then paused. "And what do you want me to do with my mouth, Scully?" "Please. . .lick me. . .please. . ." Holding the lips of her pussy open with one hand, he traced over her wet and pulsing opening with the other. "And do you want my fingers here, Scully? Inside you?" He slipped the tips of two long fingers just inside and flicked his tongue over her clit again. "Do you want that too?" "Dear God, Mulder. . .please. . ." "Say it, Scully. Do you want me to fuck you with my fingers?" "Yes. . .oh, yes. . .please, Mulder. . .I need. . .I have to. . ." He smiled. "You have to what, Scully?" "Please Mulder. . .I can’t stand it anymore. . .make me come. . ." "You want to come, Scully?" "Yes. . ." "You want me to lick your clit? Suck on it? Fuck you with my fingers until you come on my tongue? Is that what you want?" His fingers edged into her a bit more, and she spasmed around him, a hairs- breadth away from climax with just that tiny bit of stimulation. "Oh, God. . .yes, yes. . .make me come. . .please, Mulder. . ." He pulled his hands away from her and sat up. "No." It took a moment for the word to penetrate, but when it did, her answer was a wail of frustration. He smiled again. "I told you that you’d know your punishment when it happened. Do you understand now, Scully?" She moaned and twisted against the restraints, but he was unmoved, refusing to return to the center of her sensation. Gradually, she fell limply against the bed, moaning softly as she felt his long fingers stroking over the insides of her thighs. "Your passion is beautiful, Scully," he said quietly, his hands trailing over her flesh. Lightly, he caressed her nipples as he spoke. "I wonder if your surrender can be any more stunning." Bending his head, he pressed a soft kiss to her neck as he continued to stroke her breasts. "I want that, Scully. I want to see you give yourself to me completely. I want your surrender." Reaching up, he slipped the blindfold off and leaned over her. "Look at me, Scully." Slowly, her passion-drugged eyes opened, and she caught her breath anew at the intensity in his gaze. "Your body belongs to me." He spoke softly, hypnotically. "Mine." She drew a deep, shuddering breath and closed her eyes. "I know." "Scully." The thread of steel was back. "Look at me." She turned her face away, fighting herself as much as him with the last shards of her self-control. "Let it go." His dark, silky voice curled into her, settling somewhere deep in her abdomen and fanning the flames already burning dangerously hot. "There’s no way out. There’s no way to fight. You belong to me." She knew that. Oh, dear God, she knew that. She knew that he could, he would, do anything he wanted with her, to her, and there wasn’t a thing she could do to stop it. For the first time in her life, Scully understood what it was to be completely powerless before another human being. Had that person been anyone but her partner, she would have been terrified. But it was Mulder, the one person she trusted above all else. She was safe. She was free. And far from being frightened, she was more violently aroused than she ever thought she could be. For these moments, he owned her. She would feel nothing but that which he wanted her to feel. "Tell me," he commanded. Her eyes slowly opened. "I’m yours, Mulder," she whispered. "Give it to me, Scully." His voice was soft, demanding her total submission. "Anything." She stared up at him as if in a trance. "Anything. . ." "Anything?" His long fingers teased over her clit and she cried out, pleading with her eyes as he hovered over her. "You know I can keep you on the edge as long as I want. I can tease you all night long if I want. Or I can make you come. . .if that’s what I want." He stroked her again, more firmly this time, and she pushed her hips up to meet his hand. "I can satisfy you, I can make you scream and shake. . ." His touch lightened again, tracing her sensitive flesh over and over with the lightest of pressures. ". . .or I can just toy with you. Taking you to the brink over and over, never letting you come. If that’s what I want." Bending over her, he gazed into her eyes, his mouth barely touching hers as his fingers stilled their taunting movements. "And what do you want, Scully?" His full lips grazed her as he spoke. She was lost, burning under the heat of his stare. "I want. . ." She broke off, sucking in a deep breath as she realized helplessly that there was only one answer that mattered. Her will was his, and the words flowed out of her before she could stop them. "I want what you want." Something darkly victorious flared deep in Mulder’s eyes as he slowly nodded. "I want it all, Scully," he whispered, tracing her lips with his tongue, and for a moment, she could taste her own desire. "I want it all." Gently, he replaced the blindfold over her eyes and left the bed. She had no time to wonder what he was about, because almost immediately, she felt his warm, wet mouth caressing her nipple, licking and suckling rhythmically. She arched to his mouth, then jerked as she felt something smooth and cool playing in the wetness between her legs. "Toys, Scully," she heard him murmur against her. "Just an enhancement." A moment later, she groaned deeply as she felt the cool, rigid thickness begin to press slowly into her. Hungrily, her flesh gripped it, feeling the hardness assuage some of the emptiness begging to be filled, but the promise of relief stopped just inside her throbbing opening before gently pulling out. Her hips bucked, trying vainly to pull the object deeper inside. He set up a gentle suckling, a perfect counterpoint to the slow, frustratingly shallow thrusting between her legs. "Does that feel good, Scully?" His whisper was hot against her flesh. He was suckling on her other breast now, nipping and teasing, and she gasped her approval. "You’re not to come, Scully. No matter what I do to you." The sound mutated into a whimper of protest. "Not until I give you permission. Do you understand?" A sudden deep thrust into her aching flesh punctuated the question, and she nodded tightly, lips compressed. "Say it, Scully." Another deep penetration forced the words out on a sharp moan. "I understand. . ." He laughed softly. "Good girl." He shifted between her legs, his free hand parting her flesh once again. He stilled the motion of his hand, leaving the thick shaft lodged deep inside her, and his teasing mouth hovered above her. "Now don’t forget." Gently pulling back the hood of her clit to expose the ultra-sensitive bundle of nerves, he rubbed his tongue lightly over her throbbing peak. Scully shrieked softly at the sudden hammer blow of sensation and threw back her head, every muscle in her body tensed. Broken moans flowed past her lips as he teased and taunted her with his wicked tongue, by turns stroking, feathering, and stabbing at her clit, never quite hard enough to stimulate the forbidden orgasm. Higher and further he drove her, and when the gentle, shallow thrusting began again, she couldn’t help the shudders that wracked her body as her climax loomed closer, but still frustratingly out of reach. Dimly, she was aware of gasping out incoherent words between her sobs of pleasure, but she couldn’t seem to comprehend what she was saying. Mulder did. She was begging. Piteously, helplessly, unashamedly, she was pleading with him to let her come. "Yes," he breathed, letting his breath flow over her. "Now I want it. Come for me, baby. Come on, Scully. Come for me." With a flick of his wrist, he pushed the shaft deep inside her with one hard thrust and spun the base. It sprang to life, vibrating harshly within her depths at the same instant that he surrounded her wildly throbbing clit with his lips and sucked, rubbing his tongue firmly against the underside. It was sensory overload, and it hit Scully hard. Something deep inside her snapped, and she began to scream. Uncontrollably. Ceaselessly. Almost as if she were trying to escape the blinding intensity of her sudden climax, she struggled violently against the restraints, bucking and convulsing. Orgasm after orgasm ripped through her, shaking her helpless body harder and harder, and still she screamed, crying out Mulder’s name over and over with every climax. "That’s it, Scully. Keep coming. . .don’t stop, darlin’. Let me hear it." Quickly, he pulled the vibrator out of her and plunged his fingers into her instead, first two, then three, thrusting them in and out rapidly and forcefully, while his tongue worked faster, forcing her to yet another peak. And still she screamed her pleasure with every thrust of his hand, every stroke of his tongue, as she begged him not to stop, to keep making her come. "Oh God please Mulder I can’t stand it fuck me I need to feel you fuck me hard and fast I need it please don’t stop I’m coming oh my God I can’t stop coming Mulder please fuck me now please I can’t take anymore. . ." Suddenly her legs were free and Mulder was kneeling between them and ripping off her blindfold. She gasped at the taut passion tensing his features, his fierce arousal triggering yet another orgasm, just from the sight of his face. Quickly, he pulled her thighs over his, spreading her wide as he thrust savagely into her, gasping at the heated wetness that sheathed his hard cock, her muscles massaging him tightly as she spasmed around him. "Oh, God!" she shrieked, bucking under him. "Yes oh yes. . .oh God. . .harder. . ." she pleaded brokenly as he began pumping in and out. Air hissed between his teeth as he gave in to her demands, pounding into her fiercely. He leaned over her, pressing her bound wrists to the mattress above her head, trapping her with the weight of his body, using the leverage to slam his heated flesh into her harder and harder. "Yeah, Scully," he growled, sweat beading on his forehead with the effort of holding back his own imminent climax. "Keep on coming. . .God. . .so hot, so tight. . ." He thrust deeper, rotating his hips, and she writhed and jerked under him as yet another orgasm wracked her body. "Oh, yeah, Scully," he panted, moving faster and harder, sawing in and out of her with a ferocity that threatened to rend him in two with the intensity. "God, you’re beautiful. . .don’t stop, Scully. . .one more time. . ." He was certain that was all he could handle; his passion was boiling dangerously, and his control was slipping through his hands like a wet rope. "I can’t. . ." She was gasping, her body burning, flooding as he urged her higher with the hot, insistent thrusts of his cock. She felt herself grow taut, an awful tension knotting deep in her womb and growing tighter with terrifying speed, and she felt certain her heart was about to explode. "Mulder, please, I can’t take anymore. . ." "You can." Blindly groping on the mattress next to her hip, he quickly found what he sought. He forced his hand between their bodies, and flicking the vibrator on high, he pressed it to her exposed clit. The wailing scream that erupted from her lips was too much for Mulder, coupled as it was with the sudden unanticipated sensation of her pussy vibrating as it clutched tightly around his swollen, distended flesh. With an animal cry of his own, he hammered wildly into her, meeting her fiery response with his own explosive release. A white haze descended over his field of vision as his climax burst out of him, piercing his body with spears of tearing pleasure. Scully opened her eyes at the ultimate peak of her passion just in time to see his face twist into a rictus of ecstasy as finally he gave in to demands of his own body. Overcome by the savagely beautiful sight of Mulder totally abandoned in his orgasm and the realization that her passion had brought him to that point, she convulsed one last time, uttering his name on a final, panting scream before darkness swept over her. FBI Headquarters 8:06 a.m. Scully paused in the hallway outside the office door, her hand on the knob. How was she going to handle this? There was a part of her that felt utterly humiliated. Not by how she had behaved; after all, Mulder had certainly entered into the spirit of things with as much abandon as she. And had enjoyed it equally, judging by his obvious pleasure in the role he had taken on, not to mention his rather explosive reaction to the entire scenario. It was that she woke up alone. That made her feel cheapened in a way she hadn’t expected. She supposed that it shouldn’t have bothered her so much. After all, she and Mulder hadn’t exchanged any vows of emotional commitment; it was a purely sexual experience and they both knew it. She had expressed a fantasy, and he had fulfilled it; fulfilled it beyond her wildest expectations, if she were honest. She wouldn’t have traded last night for the world. And Mulder. . .well, he was spectacular. She had always been attracted to him, and as a lover, he was something she never could have anticipated. He knew just what to say and do, almost as if he were inside her head and knew what she was thinking better than she did. Just what one would expect from a partner. But now she had to face him, and she didn’t know quite how to behave. This wasn’t your typical morning after, on a number of levels. Would he think less of her, treat her as inferior, now that he knew how easily he could control her? They had been equals before. Scully had the awful fear that now, he would never look at her in quite the same way again. She laughed mirthlessly. She certainly would never look at him the same way again. She didn’t think she’d ever be able to glance at him without remembering how he looked in the grip of his passion, ecstasy contorting his features. But what message was she supposed to get from the way he slipped out of her apartment when she was asleep? When she opened her eyes after what she surmised was a few hours after passing out, he had disappeared, and all traces of their earlier activities had been erased. She must have really been gone, she mused; he had even managed to change the sheets. The scarves, the props, everything was removed, the only trace of his presence the lingering aroma of his aftershave and their mingled passion lightly scenting the air. Briefly, she had given in to the luxury of tears. She was lost in the aftermath of one of the most shattering experiences of her life, and she wanted him with her. Oh, for God’s sake, Dana, she reprimanded herself sharply. It was what it was. A hell of a night. Now stop dithering and open that door. "Morning, Scully." Mulder looked up briefly from the file he was studying as she entered the room. "I put coffee on, if you want to take your chances." He frowned and made a notation in the margin of the casenotes in front of him. "This doesn’t make any sense," he muttered, flipping back a few pages and apparently re- reading an entry. "Mulder?" Her voice was hesitant. He glanced up again, and she was startled to realize that there was no intimacy in that look, no knowing glitter, no hint of the dark stranger that had invaded her apartment, her body, and her soul last night. Blankly, she tried to focus on his words. ". . .in the last seven months over ten different states. And if you look at them on a map, here. . ." He got out of his chair and showed her the pushpins signifying the incidents against a diagram of the East Coast. ". . .they form a perfect Star of David. Except this one, back in 1992. . ." "Mulder…" Scully was at a loss, but she felt like she needed to say something. He glanced over his shoulder at her. "Is something wrong, Scully?" Honest concern shaded his voice, but it was. . .was. . . That was it. He was simply behaving as if last night had. . .never happened. The color drained from her face and to her horror, sudden tears flooded her eyes. With a hastily muttered apology, she grabbed her purse and fled the office. Dimly, she heard him call her name, but she never paused. She heard his footsteps behind her, and she broke into a near run, ducking into the stairwell to elude him. His footfalls passed the door and she heard him call her name a few times, then curse quietly under his breath as he turned, clearly heading back to the office. She waited another minute or two, just to be safe, then put her hand on the door latch. Suddenly, she gasped at the feeling of a strong hand on her shoulder, spinning her around and pinning her against the wall. "Dammit. Don’t run away from me, Scully." She held her body rigid, glaring at him icily. "Let me go, Mulder." To her surprise, he did, stepping back and running a hand through his hair. "Scully. I’m sorry. I know we need to talk. But this isn’t the time or place for it, and I thought. . .well, I guess I thought it would make things easier if I. . .if we. . ." "Pretended nothing happened? You thought that would be easier?" She laughed harshly. "I’ll give you one thing, Mulder. You’re a hell of an actor. But I guess I knew that, right?" He closed his eyes briefly. "Don’t, Scully. Don’t punish me because you have issues with what happened. I guess you never considered that I’d have issues too, huh?" That startled her. "I don’t. . .what do you mean?" "Jesus, Scully." He shook his head in bewilderment. "I enjoyed that whole caveman bit entirely too much. And I’m supposed to be a reasonably enlightened, nineties kinda guy. How do you think that makes me feel? To know that somewhere, I obviously really get off on wanting to control a woman." He focused on her face. "Wanting to control you. My partner. You think I like figuring out that I’m a sexist bastard on top of it all?" "Boy, you sure do jump on any opportunity for guilt. Are you sure you’re not Catholic?" "Jewish. Same thing." She nodded and sighed. "Mulder, you don’t. . .look. You have nothing to feel guilty about. And you’re right about something else. This isn’t the time or the place for this discussion. Certainly not in a stairwell in the Hoover Building. Let’s just. . .maybe we should come back to it later, okay?" He glanced away and nodded his assent, and silently, they made their way back to the office. FBI Headquarters 2:43 p.m. With a peculiar sense of déjà vu, Scully once again jumped when her computer beeped. Slowly, she clicked on the "message waiting" icon with a sense of foreboding. She sighed. Damn the man. He could be so sweet sometimes. Unexpectedly, tears prickled behind her eyes as she thought back to how she had felt waking up alone. Angrily, she turned her head and dashed them away quickly. But not quickly enough. Mulder cursed silently. He hesitated, then decided to be honest. She shook her head, typing furiously. He pursed his lips, unsure how to react to that. She laughed aloud at his punctuation, realizing that she perhaps had been less than clear to her easily guilt-stricken partner. A slightly embarrassed smile spread across Mulder’s face, an expression which widened at her flushed features. Clearly, Scully was briefly reliving a particularly pleasurable moment from last night. She sobered slightly and chewed her lip. Dammit. He had put her on the spot in a way that could get very uncomfortable, just when things seemed like they were looking up. How to handle this delicately? "Oh," he said softly, raising his eyes to meet hers. "Alright, Scully. If that’s the way you want it." There was no censure in his tone, but she saw a flash of hurt in the hazel depths of his eyes. Before she could say anything, he clicked off his computer and turned back to his file, effectively ending the conversation. That’s the way I want it, she assured herself stoically, opening her own file. Then why does it feel like I just made a big mistake? Because she had been prepared for him to be angry, not hurt, she realized. Since the beginning of this whole roller-coaster, Mulder hadn’t once acted like any other man she knew. Why did she continue to judge him by that yardstick? At least three times over the next few hours, she opened her mouth to try to tell him what she was frightened of. Once, she even got as far as saying his name, but his blank stare convinced her to simply mumble something unintelligible and drop her gaze. At least three times over the next few hours, Mulder looked up and studied her proud features, longing to explain that he hadn’t been making a cheap pass and taking her acquiescence for granted. Once, he even got as far as turning the computer on to send her a note, but couldn’t find the words, and gave up without trying. It was an extremely quiet afternoon. Finally, mercifully, it was the end of the day and with a quiet goodbye, Mulder threw his coat over his arm and left for home. She stared after him wistfully. So that’s the way it’s going to be, she thought sadly. No more banter, no more stupid jokes. Why couldn’t I just have kept my mouth shut? Following her partner’s example, she picked up her coat and left, heading for home. Mulder’s home. Arlington, VA 6:58 p.m. Mulder pulled the door open at her soft knock and looked down at the top of her bent head. "Hey." She didn’t answer, but looked up at him mutely with eyes that told him that a million emotions were warring in her head. Maybe a million and one, but the frontrunner was fear. "Come on in," he said, brow furrowing in concern. Putting a hand on her back to guide her, his frown deepened. "Scully, you’re shaking. Are you okay?" He started toward the kitchen for the coffee. "What’s wrong?" Her hands fisted at her sides. "I can’t fall in love with you, Mulder," she blurted out suddenly. He froze and his head whipped around to stare at her. "What did you say?" "You heard me. That’s why I. . .dammit, Mulder. No one, I mean no one, has ever come close to making me feel what I felt last night. Do you think for one moment I wouldn’t want to experience that again? Of course I want to make love with you again. That was what you were alluding to this afternoon, wasn’t it?" He nodded, a bit unsure of himself. "It was. But I didn’t mean to imply--" "I know you didn’t." She cut him off with a wave of her hand. "I like to think I know you better than that. It’s just that it wasn’t only what you did to me, exactly. It was you. And that’s when I realized the problem. What you did was phenomenal. . .it was amazing, Mulder, don’t doubt that. . .but what made me react the way I did was that it was you doing those things to me." She began to pace. "Mulder, I was halfway there before you ever laid a finger on me. If we made love again. . .without the psychological protection of my fantasy life to buffer it. . .I’m going to fall in love with you." "Would that be so bad, Scully?" he asked softly, watching her agitated movements from the kitchen doorway. He was picking his way through an emotional mine field here, but if he could make it to the other side, the rewards would be worth the agony of the trip. Halfway there before I ever laid a finger on her. Christ. I’d be scared, too. With sudden insight, Mulder realized the root of her fears the instant before she expressed them. "I think it would, Mulder." Bravely, she faced him and her fears head on. "Without getting into all the reasons why a relationship between us is a bad idea, like the X-Files, our jobs, my brother, Skinner. . ." He arched a brow. "I thought you weren’t going to get into any of that." Pointedly, she ignored him. "How suicidal would it be, do you think, to fall in love with a man who can control me so completely?" Unshed tears glistened in her eyes. "It’s not fair, Mulder," she whispered. "Why do I finally find what I’ve been looking for, only to realize how wrong it is?" Mulder was thoughtful. "Let me see if I understand you, Scully. You’ve been looking all along for a man who can control you, and now that you’ve found him, you’re not sure if you want that. . .because it’s me?" "No, that’s not--" She trailed off in exasperation. "Do I have to spell this out for you, Mulder?" "I think you do." He studied her gravely. "We’ve misunderstood each other, and ourselves, enough over the past few days." He leaned against the doorjamb, purposely keeping his stance casual and unthreatening. "This is important to me too, Scully. I don’t want to screw up and hurt you again." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "So. Spell it out for me. What, exactly, have you been looking for all this time?" She gazed at the far corner of the room for long moments, as if coming to a decision, then looked him straight in the eyes. "You." He caught his breath at her expression. "I’ve been looking for you." "Scully. . ." He was awed. "I lied to you, Mulder. I’m not halfway there. I’m in for the whole nine yards." She took a deep breath and released it. "I’ve been looking, and waiting, for you." He swallowed, concentrating on controlling the shaking in his hands. "But?" He let the word hang in the air. "But it’s wrong, Mulder. I can’t do it. Not after the other night." She turned her back on him, wrapping her arms around herself. "I’ve worked too hard to become my own person. You don’t know how hard it is, Mulder. Not just at work, but my whole life, to be surrounded by big, strong men. My size just made things worse. Part of why I fell in love with you was because you were one of the first men to treat me like an equal, not like ‘the little woman’. You didn’t give me lip service that you were treating me that way, you just did it." She sighed. "That fantasy. . .it’s so politically incorrect it makes me sick. I’ve never let that bother me before, because it’s always been just that. A fantasy. A fantasy about you, in fact. I’ve never let it disturb me that I’d want the one man who recognized me for who and what I was to turn me into a sex object. In the abstract, it was just an exciting idea. But in reality. . ." She hugged herself tighter. "It’s terrifying. "And I know that you don’t think of me that way. It isn’t that you did anything wrong. It’s me. . .and how totally I gave in to you. On one level, it was exactly what I wanted. But on another, it just showed me that in the end, you would always win. It’s like you said. I belong to you." She turned to face him. "And I can’t afford to belong to anyone but myself." "Scully." He hadn’t moved, but he held himself tensely, searching for the right thing to say. She was frightening him on a very elemental level, because she was too calm. He knew her. She had already made up her mind, and if he didn’t act very fast, he was going to lose his chance. But how can I say the right thing when I don’t know what the right thing is? In the end, he opted for the truth. "Scully, I’m on real shaky ground here. You’re not the only one who strayed into political incorrectness last night and seemed to enjoy the experience. But that’s not really the point." He paused and glanced away. "Would it embarrass you to talk about last night a bit more directly?" She blinked, taken aback for a moment. "Uh, no. I guess not." "You said earlier that you didn’t think I intended to hurt or humiliate you, but that doesn’t mean that I didn’t. Did I?" "No!" Her answer was instant and definite. "Not at all. Not once." "Okay." He chewed his lip for a moment. "I know there were times that you were afraid of what you were feeling, of what was happening. I didn’t stop because you didn’t use the safe word, but. . .Scully. Were you afraid to say it? Afraid of what I would do?" "N-no," she replied hesitantly. "I guess, honestly, I didn’t because I didn’t want you to stop doing what you were doing. And I knew you would. I never doubted that." "Okay. The things I made you say. . .that you belonged to me, that you would do anything, that your body was mine. Did those things. . .were you. . .I don’t know how to say this. I know how it sounds right now, in the light of day. But last night, did you feel objectified? Did I push you too far, using your body against you to make you do something you really didn’t want to do?" His voice softened, but she caught the undertone of genuine distress. Scully searched his face, and realized there was more going on than a sophisticated logical progression. Yeah, Mulder was leading up to something. But he was truly worried, and was seeking reassurance. It was a relief to know that she could honestly ease that fear, at least. "No, Mulder. If I’d really wanted you to stop, I would have said the word. You have to believe that." He shook his head. "I think I manipulated you, Scully. Think back. I had you in such a physical state that you would have said almost anything. You—" "Mulder, stop it. That is completely not true. If I had wanted—" "So what are you saying, Scully? That I wasn’t really controlling you, after all?" "Yes, dammit! I made the choice to let go. When you asked me to surrender, I did, because. . ." She broke off and stared at him, astonished at what she had just revealed. "Because I trusted you," she finished softly to herself. Mind racing, she worked it through. "I didn’t feel controlled, I felt free. I didn’t have to do anything. I didn’t have to worry about pleasing you because you set me up so I couldn’t. I didn’t have any choice, it’s true, but. . .I didn’t have any choice because you were. . .oh, my God." She broke off in consternation and realization. Mulder remained silent and motionless, watching her. She raised stunned eyes to him. "Everything you did, every move you made, every word out of your mouth, it was for me." He nodded, his gaze never leaving hers. "It was for my pleasure and benefit. You took hours and hours to make love to me. . .to give me the fantasy I wanted. . .even what I didn’t know I wanted. It was all for me." She couldn’t believe she hadn’t figured this out before. "I was helpless, yes, but only in the moment. You did nothing but what would please me; in fact, you did only what would please me." "You really believe that, Scully? Honestly?" She shook her head. "It’s amazing when you think about it, but yes, I do." "If that’s true, do you want to rethink who the sex object is here?" he asked quietly. She was shocked speechless by his comment. "You get the point, Scully, don’t you?" For the first time, he moved, dropping his arms and walking slowly over to her. "We both got pleasure out of what happened last night. Like you, the roles we played, the game, the fantasy. . .that was only part of it for me. What made it so incredible was you. As scared as you were of being controlled by me, when it was over, that’s how scared I was of my possessive feelings for you. "The way you responded to me--God, Scully. Something animal inside me came out. All I could think was that I would have done anything you wanted to make you keep reacting like that. And the more I did. . .even though I’d never felt that way before, never wanted to be that way with any woman before. . .the more I said and did, the wilder you got. I couldn’t help what I did. I’ve never felt so out of control in my life and it terrified me, because I didn’t know if I was going too far. I didn’t know I could be like that." He searched her face and saw the understanding there. "You were controlling me just as surely as I was controlling you. "So let me tell you what I didn’t get around to telling you last night. . .or this morning, or this afternoon, or for the past God knows how long, because I’ve always been too scared to admit to you what you just did to me." He touched her cheek. "I belong to you, Scully. I’m yours. Anything you want. . ." His fingertips shook as they traced the outline of her lips, now parted with wonder. "I want what you want, Scully." His voice was as soft and gentle as his touch. "I’ve been looking for you. . .and waiting for you. . .the one woman who’s my exact counterpart. My match. My equal. Someone who’s as strong as I am, and who’s brave enough to trust me with that strength. Last night only confirmed what I’ve known for years. It might be scary as hell, but I’ve finally found what I’ve been looking for, and it’s more right than I could ever have dreamed." He lowered his head and kissed her lingeringly, with an aching tenderness. "I’m begging you, Scully," he whispered in a voice choked with emotion. "I love you, and this is right. Please, tell me you believe that. . .it’ll make all my fantasies come true." At last, her eyes overflowed as he kissed her again, stopping her response with his caress. She melted in his arms, her mouth moving under his sweetly and tenderly as he held her close. His mouth clung to hers for an extra second as she pulled back to look up at him. "Yes." He brushed his hand through her hair as he studied her face carefully. "Yes, what, Scully?" She smiled through her tears as she pressed a kiss to his wrist. "Yes, I believe you. Yes, I love you." She kissed him again. "Yes, anything." With a wide smile and a happy laugh, he hugged her tightly. "Good, ‘cause I feel a bit of caveman comin’ on." She gave a startled yelp as he swung her high in his arms and spun her around once before he began to walk through to the bedroom. "So, Mulder. . ." She began to trace her finger over his ear, grinning at his sudden shiver. "These fantasies of yours. . .don’t drop me. . ." She ignored his muttered ‘then don’t do that’ and continued, "do these fantasies have anything to do with my tying you up this time?" "Hm. Interesting idea, and it sounds like fun, but I’ve always pictured you in this cheerleader outfit--" "And here I always thought you would be the harem girl type." "Nah. I look like hell in chiffon." "That remains to be seen, Mulder." "Don’t even think it, Scully." "I don’t know, Mulder. I have a lot of fantasies." "Scully?" "Yeah, Mulder?" "Shut up and make love to me." "Yes, sir." His growl was cut off by her passionate kiss. This time, it was Mulder who did the begging. . .which was just the way they both wanted it. This time. And the next time. . .well, neither one knew what would happen. After all, for two people who deal in extreme possibilities every day, who could guess what their fantasies were going to be? And as a worn-out Mulder pointed out to a blissfully sated Scully, part of the thrill of fantasy. . .and love. . .is not knowing what’s coming next. Which was just the way they both wanted it.