DISCLAIMER:  All homage to CC and the writers of the X-files.

RATING:  NC17, 99.9% relationship 0.1% X-file.  vague spoilers.

STANDARD PLOT DEVIATION:  Scully -brothers, +cat.


Trump
by S. K. Harrell



Thursday  27 June 96
12:07 am
Scully's Apartment


Mulder sat across from Scully on the shadow-flecked linoleum floor, 
his back against the dishwasher.  The hurricane lamp threw eerie 
shadows around them, flickering silhouettes of a tribal dance.  A 
flash of lightening lit the room long enough for Scully to clearly 
see the pensive look on Mulder's face.  It was his turn to discard.

"I said, 'it's your turn, Mulder."  Scully braced herself at the loud 
clap of thunder, then cocking her head to one side, she peered 
up into that mysterious dark face of his.  He looked sullen, and 
a million miles away.  "Hey..." she ventured.

There came another brilliant flash, quickly followed by a thunderous 
roar that shook the apartment, rattling the window panes.  Scully 
heard a faint popping sound from some distant corner of her 
home, and she wondered what appliance had been destroyed.  
The storm was right above them now.  

Mulder stirred at the rumble.  "O, I'm sorry.  My turn still?"

"Yeeeesss,"  It really wasn't like him to be so forgetful.  Spacey yes,
but forgetful, no.  "Get with the program, already,"  Chiding him 
only resulted in a tight smile.  More concerned, she asked, 
"What's wrong?"

Mulder laid down the Ace of Spades, the card that he knew she'd 
been waiting for.  "Nothing," he said.  "Just tired, I guess."  He
folded his cards up in one hand, looked at Scully, then let out a big sigh.  
He was ready to go home--had been for an hour now, having 
finished going over all of their expense reports, _and_ dinner.  
The storm was hellacious, twister warnings all around them.  
They'd been playing Spades for 45 minutes, Mulder in his 
trench coat, obviously anxious to depart.

"I know you're tired, but I also know something is bothering you 
besides that...What is it?"

Mulder pursed his lips, eyes still on her face.  He shook his head.  
'This is it,' he thought.  'There won't be a better opportunity.'  So 
he just blurted it out.  "Don't go to the coast this weekend."  There. 
He had said it.  He watched for a reaction.

Not sure what to make of him, Scully stammered, "What?...Why?  
Why shouldn't I go this weekend?  We've been planning this for 
weeks..."

"Because I don't want you to," he interrupted, gaze locked, stomach 
knotted.

Scully's heart immediately went into convulsions, though she wasn't 
really sure why.  'O shit.  He's gotten some warning, or a threat 
or something...'  "Why Mulder?  Get to the point.  What's going 
on?."

He tossed his cards on the floor, and looked back at her.  The storm 
raged outside, and Mulder realized he was actually glad that the 
electricity was out.  He didn't know if he could have told her this 
in plain sight.  "Because I don't want you to.  I just don't think it's
a good idea, that's all."

Scully laughed.  "O, Ok.  I see.  Well, that settles it then.  I won't 
go cos Mulder said not to."  She shrugged her shoulders and 
shook her head.  "What the fuck is that shit?"

Mulder shifted his weight and stretched his legs out in front 
of him.  He folded his hands in his lap and said, "I just don't think 
it's a good idea.  You..."

"Yeah, you said that part already..." she threw in.

"You don't know this guy well enough, just to go off with him for 
the weekend..."

"Mulder!" God he could be so patronizing sometimes.  "The guy's 
name is Ian, and I can't believe you just said that!  I am utterly 
shocked and disappointed in you."  She glared at him, completely 
taken aback at his audacity, and further enraged by the fact that 
he just sat there, letting her yell at him, nonchalantly waggling his 
fingers over the globe of the lamp.  "I thought we were over 
that shit, you feeling responsible for me, and all, and besides, 
where do you get off..."

"I'm in love with you."

"...telling me what I can and can't..."

Mulder kept his eyes fixed on the flame, afraid to even look in her 
direction.  He felt an acidic surge in his middle, and his stomach 
began to digest itself.

Scully felt like someone had just punched her in the stomach, hard.  
A wave of nausea passed over her, and in the awkwardness of the 
moment, she didn't know what to do.  She looked from Mulder to the 
discard stack.  Then laying down a two of Clubs,  she looked at him 
and said, "You took all the tricks..."  He looked at her, bewildered, but 
eager.

She knew he was waiting for her to respond.  Casting her eyes downward,
she felt her throat begin to tighten.  And even though somewhere, some 
tiny part of her was jumping up and down and squealing, she felt sick. 
He had just complicated things beyond anything she had ever 
wanted to deal with.  Scully knew that sooner or later she was going 
to have to resolve her feelings for him, in her own time.  
Alone.  But now she sat across from him, speechless.

The only sound was the rain coming to a slow patter on the roof, and 
distant, subsiding thunder.  Mulder felt like he had just hurled
himself off of a cliff, only there was no inevitable plunge into oblivion, just
suspension, nothingness, staring into water--the realization that 
he was going nowhere.  He saw her begin to cry, and he was astonished. 

He expected her to talk back, rationalize that his feelings were 
based on having stayed in such close proximity to her for the past 
3 years, explain calmly, in that we-can-still-be-friends-tone that 
she was with Ian now.  'Why the hell is _she_ crying?'  He was 
caught completely off guard.

"Scully?...I love you.  Nothing means as much to me as you do, and 
I know that I have no right to ask you not to go away with Ian this 
weekend, but it's killing me, and I had to say something..."

Ian?  Ian!  She hadn't even thought of him.  Hell, he was just another 
something to have to resolve at some point.  It had been going really 
well with him, going out and having really nice dinners.  And he was 
reasonably fun, so, a few weeks ago when he first asked her to go 
with him to his house on the bay , she said, "Sure.  It sounds like
fun."

And she had not been secretive about the fact that they were sleeping 
together.  Why should she be?  She and Mulder talked about those 
things as casually as she talked with her girlfriends about her
fingernails.  They had overcome that taboo early in their relationship, 
she and Mulder.  Although, it had been a little uncomfortable at first.  She
liked that about him, and it made her feel closer to him, in a way, knowing 
what he liked and all...

Tears streamed down her face, and she wiped them away with the 
back of her hand.

"I've wanted to tell you a million times, and I know this is a really 
fucked up time to bring it up..."  She sat there crying, her head in 
her hands, and Mulder felt like a real shit.  

"I've never known a woman like you.  I've never known _anyone_ like 
you.  You're just...incredible..."  He reached for something to say, any 
words in his mind to try to get a response from her, to know how she 
felt, to know what he had done to make her cry.

He was being so sweet, and that was not something to be taken 
lightly from Fox Mulder.  She knew he meant every word, and she 
felt like a total bitch for not jumping on him right there in the
kitchen, and laying one on him.  God, but he was beautiful...

Mulder leaned in to her.  "Do you love Ian?"  'Do I really want to 
know this?'  He gritted his teeth, and knitting his brow, he studied 
her closely.

At that she looked up at him suddenly, taking a deep breath.  Mulder 
backed away, not knowing her intentions.

She recognized the feeling of being up shit creek, doomed no matter 
what she did.  Either way, it was about to break.  She wiped her nose
on the shoulder of her t-shirt and met his gaze straight on.  She liked
Ian.  She liked fucking him, but she knew this love thing would come
out eventually.  And here was Mulder, hanging on her words, before 
she even spoke.  "No,...no, I don't love him."

She saw relief flash across his face, as he fell safely into his 
water-filled ravine.  Her guts wrenched tighter at his relieved sigh.

Scully re-positioned herself, folding her legs up under her, then she 
leaned back on the cabinet.  She rolled her eyes.  'What am I doing?'  
"I love you, Mulder.  I have no reason to deny it.  You are my best 
friend.  I haven't had a relationship like this with anyone
else.....I've been in love with you...for a long, long time."  She wiped 
her nose, and looked down into the hurricane lamp.  Shaking her head, 
and with a low laugh she said, "I've been in love with you since about 
15 minutes after I walked through that basement door."

She smiled back up at him, trying to overcome the tears that had 
started to flow harder.  Mulder moved toward her, but she put her 
hand up, warding him off.  Not wanting to destroy the moment, he 
obliged.

She sniffed loudly, and said, "I wanted to tell you at first, but it
just didn't feel _right_ to me..."  Her chest was heaving, but she made 
sure to speak slowly.  This was it, and she didn't want to be 
misunderstood, or god forbid have to repeat anything.  It was 
all she could do to speak now.  "I didn't know how you felt, or
if you even thought about me..."

"I did.  I do," he offered.  'How did I not see this?'  Mulder 
shuddered to think that his instincts had failed him so.

"...So I just let it go."

His heart sank.  He was elated, because at last he knew the 
answer to the question that had perplexed him continuously for 
the past few years, but he was saddened as he began to 
understand the nature of her hesitance, her tears.  It wasn't 
someone else that he had to compete with--it was her.  'After 
all, this _is_ Scully I'm dealing with.  The Queen of Restraint.'  
It was a nicer title than some he had heard around the Bureau.

Her voice husky, she said, "I was afraid... to risk our friendship 
for anything.  It means that much to me, _you_ mean that much to 
me.  I was afraid for things to change, so I thought it was better to 
keep it to myself and just let things be."

She spoke very slowly.  "I'm still afraid of our relationship
changing...hell, it's changed drastically in just the past 20 minutes..."
She threw her hands up, and shrugged her shoulders at him.

She was right.  Mulder felt a tension settle between them, like the 
dampness in the air, a tension that he had not felt since those first 
few cases, when he wasn't sure who's side she was on, when she 
was insecure about him protecting her.  They had come so far since 
then, their relationship transcending anything he had ever thought 
possible with another human soul.  They had come so far, to this.

"Our relationship is perfect."  Her voice smooth and hushed, she 
softened before him.  "We talk about _every_thing, we fight, we 
support each other, we hang out together, we kick each others' 
ass when we need it...It's never been that way with anyone, not 
even my family...so open, so limitless and ... unconditional..."

They both pondered that one for a few minutes, her words ringing 
truth in Mulder's ears.  

He had grown closer to her than he had ever planned, or even 
wanted to, at first.  

She wiped away the remnants of her tears, and smiled sheepishly 
at him.  "It's like, if I had a brother, I would want him to be you, 
but it's even better than having a brother..."  That really struck a 
chord in Mulder.  He felt a brotherly kinship to her from the 
beginning, to the point that he had problems admitting to himself 
that he was attracted to her.  Scully was a substitute sister for him
--she was the same age as Samantha would have been.  It was 
became more than a mental association for him, and he was just 
sick about it for a long time.  But Scully was so open about things 
like that, so accepting, that without even knowing, she had helped 
him feel better about it.  He still felt that brotherly bond, and now
it nothing but thrilled him to think of sex with this young, beautiful 
woman in front of him.

Moving the hurricane lamp from in-between them, he slid up against 
her, scattering cards all around them.  He took her face in his hands, 
and he pushed her hair away from her face.  She tried to turn away 
from him, but he gently brought her face back to his.  "One time, a 
long time ago, you told me that you have fantasies about having a 
brother, and having sex with him..."

She smiled at him, feigned embarrassment, and pulled his face 
away from his hand.  'God I forgot about that.'  Her head was 
reeling.  Nodding, she said, "Yeah,"  then after a few seconds, "I 
have a _lot_ of fantasies."

Mulder's cock stiffened just hearing the words, a divine concession.  
They had some sex talks, but he wanted to know all of her fantasies,
to _do_ all of her fantasies.

God, if he only knew what she had thought about him.  He would
think she was the one that was the pervert.  For all of his sordid 
pornographic endeavors, Scully knew that his sexual experiences 
all bent to the _straighter_ side.  She had often thought about 
how she could change that facet of his schema.

He turned her face to him again, his thumb brushing her bottom 
lip.  "Am I in them?"

He was so close to her, he wanted to kiss her.  He had been that 
close to her before, sometimes when she held him--those times, 
working bizarre cases, sleeping in cold little dive motels, when 
the nightmares would come...  She would croon to him as she 
held him, wrapped together in a blanket, telling him everything 
would be ok.  She soothed him beyond any peace he had ever 
known, even as a child.  Those times, few though they were, 
that Scully allowed herself to be held by him, after her 
abduction, after Pfaster.  It had been slow in coming, her 
turning to him for emotional support, but inevitably, she had.

He had been that close to her before, and every time, he had been 
completely aroused.  And he had painfully concealed it, not wanting 
to disturb the moment, not unlike now.

"Yes."  Her lips curled into a smile for a split second, and she 
shifted her gaze back to the floor.

Mulder's cock throbbed with pain, completely engorged with 
blood.  It made him dizzy just to feel it rub against the fabric 
of his trousers.  It was always like this when he thought of her.  
His fantasies.

He knew the magnitude of the situation for her.  And he knew that 
he was far from in the clear.  When Scully feels strongly about 
something, she asserts her position immediately.  When she is moved 
by something, she secludes herself and her feelings, she hides.  This
is what he was up against, and there was no strategy to combat it.  

"I'm not going to squeeze you about this...I don't want it to be that
way."  He put his arms around  her and hugged her close.  "Just 
don't shut me out, Scully.  I know this is really strange..."

"There's just so much..."she started,  "...so much at stake.  
Everything, Mulder, literally everything is stacked against us 
having an intimate relationship.  It always has been."
Mulder could feel her anxiety growing, and he was struggling to 
bring things back into focus.  "You know as well as I do that we 
can do _anything_ together, and that includes making a 
relationship work.  We're damn good together."

Scully didn't respond, so he pulled her close again.  "I love you, 
Scully.  No matter what, I love you."  He pulled away to look at 
her, and she nodded in agreement.

Kissing her on the cheek, he rose, and she heard the front door 
close on his way out.

Scully sat, still on the linoleum, the sounds of her crying mingling 
with the steady shower outside.  There were no silhouettes of tribal 
dancers now, only her huddled form looming on the wall above her.



Saturday  29 June 96
1:43 am
FBI Headquarters


Mulder sat, bent over his desk, reading, twirling a pen in his left 
hand.  The office was dark, except for the lamp over his desk, and 
the straining lamp from Scully's small desk, so he didn't see her small
figure as she came toward him.  She didn't want to startle him, but she
wanted to watch him as long as she could, observe him without him 
knowing, try to get some feeling for where to start.

She could tell, even looking at him from behind, hunched over and
shirttail out, that he had spent a rough last twenty-four hours.  She 
took another step toward him, careful not to make a sound.  As she 
was about to take another step toward him, he whirled around, Scully 
freezing in her place.

There she was.  Barefoot, in a floral slip dress, her hands clasped 
behind her back.

"I didn't hear you come in."  He removed his glasses, rubbed 
his eyes, then ran his fingers through his hair.  He sat forward a 
bit, his frame stiffening.  

"I didn't mean for you to...I didn't expect you to be here, but 
when I went by your apartment and you weren't..."  'Cut the small 
talk,' she told herself.  How had she managed to turn into such a 
chicken shit between here and the car?

"Have you been here since this morning?"

He nodded, punctuated with a soft "yeah."  He leaned forward, 
his elbows resting on his knees, then looked up at her, squinting.  
"What's up?  I thought you were gone..."

She shook her head.  Scully, ever-conscious that they were 
never _really_ alone in the basement, had thought  a lot about 
what she wanted to say to him.  That's all she had done for the 
past day, that and try to think of how to explain things to Ian.

She didn't really feel like she owed Ian much of an explanation, 
since they never really were an exclusive 'thing'.  She had made it 
clear to him that she was not interested in a relationship, so she 
didn't concern herself with having to let him down easy.  She just 
called him and told him that she wasn't going to be able to go with 
him this weekend, that she was going to take some time to herself.  
Ian didn't quiz her about it, which was a relief.  She didn't know what
she would have said to him if he had, and she had devoted all of her 
energy  to figuring out what she was going to say to Mulder.

But what _was_ she going to say to Mulder?  And when was she 
going to say it?  He thought that she would be gone for the weekend, 
so technically she could take the _whole_ weekend to think about 
things...



To Scully that had seemed an enormously small eternity.

Having a personal relationship with Mulder called everything into 
question:  her job, her career, her sanity, moreover, her relationship 
with her best friend.  Scully didn't want to leave the department, but 
she knew that she could always find refuge in forensics.  She didn't 
want to leave the X-files--it was her calling now, just as it had 
always been his.

What she couldn't stomach was the possibility of losing him.  She 
wanted him, she fantasized about him, watched him walk, and 
constantly sized him up.  But she had gotten used to cataloging all 
of those little details away in her mind, taking care to keep them 
separate from their relationship, initially because he expressed no 
sexual interest in her, and eventually because she knew that such 
feelings could drive a wedge between them.  It really had very little 
to do with work.  Then as now, she knew that she loved him.

So that's where she was, and that's what had been going through 
her head since he left her apartment.  After she cried everything that 
was in her out, she scrubbed the bathroom top to bottom, 
wondering how they would be able to work together in such a 
relationship.

All through cleaning out the refrigerator and washing the dishes 
she contemplated the Bureau's policy on fraternization.  She knew 
that they would get rid of her long before they would Mulder.  
Even if most of them thought he was a kook, she was still a 
female, and she would get the axe first.

While she walked through the apartment dusting and resetting 
her storm-traumatized clocks, she thought about how strained 
their relationship would be if she continued to deny her 
feelings for him.

As she uncabled her newly fried VCR from the tv, she had visions 
of a terrible spat with him, and saw herself leaving the Bureau of
her own accord.

While she was eating breakfast, she remembered the times that she 
had been hurt, her body violated and broken.  And she remembered 
how he was the only one that could calm her, really speak beyond 
her listening, to the madness that was churning and festering inside 
her.  He stilled her, and she had not meant for him to.

As she mopped the kitchen floor, she thought of his crooked smile 
and how utterly brilliant he was.  He was a sensitive cad, relegated
to a life of sunflower seeds.

In the shower she heard him saying over and over "having a brother, 
and having sex with him..."  It took her breath away to think of him 
thinking of her.  Recalling the time he told her that he and Phoebe 
had done it doggie style in her office, Scully felt no jealousy, only 
the overwhelming desire to feel the sharp corner of mahogany 
rhythmically dig into the tops of her thighs, her breasts pressed 
flat against a desk blotter.

Putting her car into park, she pondered the fact that she just wasn't 
ready to give him up, for any reason.  She knew she had to be 
careful, conspicuous.  She was ready for whatever lay ahead.

But what was she going to say?




"Why don't you come home with me?"

He didn't blink, and Scully thought that he didn't hear her.  He 
slumped back in his chair and took a long look at her.  She 
approached him, and kneeling before him, she placed her hands 
on his knees, sitting up on her heels.

Mulder became completely alert, the hairs of his skin rising under 
her touch.  He was dazed, as in a dream, the room blurring, and 
her voice strange and muffled in his ears.  But he was keenly awake.

Looking up at him, barely above a whisper, she said, "I love you.  
Please come home with me."  He dropped the pen on his desk, 
but made no other movement.

It was apparent to Scully that she was going to have to make the 
first move, and she did, gladly.

Standing, his eyes still locked on her face, she leaned to turn off 
the lamp on his desk.  As she bent in front of him, her dress rode 
up just high enough for Mulder to glimpse her pantiless bottom.  
His breath caught, and his cock hardened.  He wanted to fuck her 
right there, pull her down onto his cock, and just fuck her.  But he 
knew that would be too careless.  They could never do anything 
so daring, to put themselves in jeopardy.

She stepped back to face him, and he was on his feet immediately.  
In the dim light she made out a look of amusement on his face, as 
he sucked in air between his teeth.

"Let's go," she said, touching his cheek.

She turned to lead him away, but Mulder grabbed her, and 
swooped her up in a desperate, passionate embrace.  He pulled 
her to him, roughly forcing out her breath.  Her arms sneaked 
around his neck, and she stood up on her tip-toes to draw closer 
to him.  He held her in a strong embrace, his hands resting on her 
hips.  He pressed his cock against her pelvis, a low moan escaping 
her lips.  Traveling slowly, his left hand snaked under her dress 
and cupped her bare bottom.  Scully's core melted into hot liquid 
as his hand roughly caressed her buttock, kneading her flesh.  
Slowly, his hand traveled lower.  Stooping slightly, his fingers 
sought her wet little sex.  Mulder closed his eyes and buried his 
face in her hair while he explored her smooth, shaven folds.  
Scully's whole body tensed, focusing all of her senses on his 
fingers dipping inside her, dabbling in her juices, his hot palm 
pressed flat against her anus.

He pulled away from her, his hand leaving a cool wet trail as 
he lazily brushed over the small of her back.  Taking a step back, 
he touched her lips.  Scully's tongue darted out to lick her wetness 
from his fingers, the tips of which she sucked between her lips.  
He moved close to her mouth and inhaled the aroma of her pussy, 
while her mouth tightened around his fingers.  Withdrawing them, 
he licked the remaining liquid from his hand.  Turning his attention 
back to her, he pressed his forehead to hers, and with his pouty 
crooked smile said, "Let's go."




Saturday  29 June 96
2:07am
Scully's Apartment

He was so tired, working long hours all week, and the stress of this 
whole ordeal had taken its toll on him.  She knew that from the time 
he left her apartment in the wee hours yesterday morning, until she 
walked in their office a few minutes ago, he had tortured himself into 
an obsessive frenzy.  Though he was completely focused on her, Scully 
could see fatigue in his eyes, his posture.

"Will you let me do something for you?"  She took his hand and pulled 
him toward the bedroom.  "Something really special?"

She had a look about her that he had never seen before, a confident, 
empowered look that told him he was going to like whatever it was 
that she was going to do.  Hell, even if it was something he wouldn't 
like, he was up for it.  He nodded.  "I don't care _what_ we do," he
said, kissing her.

Scully pulled away and looked up at him.  "Do you trust me completely? 

I won't do anything that you won't like, and if you don't like
something, tell me and I'll stop. Ok?"

"Ok," he responded.  Although he was curious, he wasn't the least 
bit affected by her words.  Nothing could touch the bliss he was
feeling.  He pursued her further, kissing her, molding her thinly clad breasts 
in his hands.

Scully tried to focus all of her energy on getting him in the bedroom, 
momentarily detaching herself from the tight, wet knot of her middle.  
He was so into her, and she was so excited that she considered 
forgetting her little offer and just letting him fuck her in the living
room, clothes and all.  Then, in-between ferocious kisses and gesticulations,

she glanced at him.  She took one look in his tired, sexy eyes and 
knew _that_ was the way it was meant to be.  She wanted it that way, 
and so would he, once he caught on.

Inside her bedroom, Scully turned on the small lamp beside her bed.  
Reaching into her night stand, she took out a piece of sheer fabric.  
Placing it over the lamp, the room was muted into a collage of glowing 
hues.  She also took out of the drawer a small bottle of oil and tossed
it onto the bed.

Mulder's curiosity skyrocketed.

"Lie down," she instructed.  He obeyed immediately, and Scully 
admired his compliance in light of his obvious unsuredness.

She slid her dress down her small frame, feeling his eyes on her.  
Then stepping over the tiny remnant, she climbed onto Mulder.  
Feeling the roughness of his clothing against her bare skin excited 
her as much as her divine nakedness aroused him, for as she 
straddled him, he sat up, latching onto her nipple.  Gently, lulling
her into his arms, he began rocking her bottom against his straining cock.

Fighting her own instinct to ride his eager hips, she pushed him firmly
onto his back and whispered, "No.  Not yet."

Met with no resistance, she took his hands in hers and guided 
them above his head to the cool iron headboard.  "Keep your 
hands here..." she said, raising an eyebrow," or I'll stop."

He nodded and said, "I promise," as he raised up to suck a tiny 
pink nipple into his mouth.  Scully wanted to pull away, as this 
wasn't part of her plan.  But it felt so good, the sucking, his lips 
pulling on her flesh.  She paused there, her hands covering his as 
they gripped the metal railing, her breasts dangling over his face.  
She closed her eyes and arched her back.  Mulder removed his 
hands from the iron, and pulled her to him, sucking harder.  In 
defiance, Scully sat back on her heels, extracting her breast from 
his mouth with a tingly smack.

"No," she said.  placing his hands back on the iron.  "We have 
plenty of time, Beautiful."

Mulder groaned his dissatisfaction, but saw in her eyes imminent 
promise.  He had played sex games before, but he had _never_ 
been on the receiving end.  It excited the hell out of him that he 
was being dominated by a woman--far more than he could have 
ever imagined.  It thrilled him even more that it was Scully.  It was 
delicious, the sight and feel of her on him.  He almost came 
thinking of pushing into her.

"Be still," she commanded.  Her voice was soft and hushed, but 
he knew she meant business.  And he was in no position to disavow.

She straddled his mid-section, completely naked.  Mulder couldn't 
take his eyes off of her sex, its pouty swollen lips unobscured.  It 
looked silky soft, a tiny tangle of auburn hair just above.  He longed 
to touch it, to gently separate its folds and probe his findings with
his tongue, inhale her musky aroma.  God, he loved the smell of her, 
her hair, her skin.

But she would have none of that now.

Quickly, she worked off his clothes, pausing only as she peeled 
his trousers away from his body.  She lingered to tease herself, 
as much as to tease him.  Slowly she revealed more and more of 
the thin furrow of dark hair on his abdomen, growing thicker and 
wilder as she neared his crotch.  She sucked in her breath as the 
pink head of his cock protruded.  Scully stilled, admiring its
fullness.  She looked from his cock to his eyes and saw Mulder chewing at 
his lip.  She tingled, knowing that he was going out of his mind, and 
that she was responsible for it.  Turning her attention back to his
cock, she admired its tip, glistening with pre-cum.  Quickly, deftly she 
licked the liquid from him, her tongue barely touching the tiny 
opening.  Mulder groaned and ran his hands through his hair, leaving 
it standing wildly on end.  Scully, aware that he was growing 
impatient, pulled away from his body.  When he established that 
his hands were again in place, she slid down to his feet and stripped 
away his remaining clothes, intentionally avoiding looking at his cock.

After all, she was teasing herself as well.

"Roll over."  He did what she commanded, then reached to arrange 
his engorged erection beneath him.  "Nooooo," she reprimanded, then 
purred "I do have handcuffs, you know."  A low chuckle rose from 
the pillow, quickly stifled as Scully cupped his scrotum in her hand.  
He raised his hips as she reached beneath him, firmly grasping his 
cock and planting it against his stomach.  Her cunt contracted the 
second she felt his swollen cock.

Scully slid up the length of his body, positioning herself so that her 
tiny sex was pressed against the small of his back.  Warming the 
bottle of oil in her hands, she spread the slippery film over his 
shoulders.

His back was beautiful, and she savoured the sinewy feel of his 
shoulders beneath her hands.  Some people were attracted to butts, 
some were attracted to eyes, but Scully was a sucker for nice 
shoulders and shoulder blades.  She thought Mulder's divine.  She 
closed her eyes and imagined herself kneading away the tension of 
the last few days, the pent up frustration of the past few years. 
Scully imagined herself working magic.

She worked her way down his back, firmly rubbing his tight, perfect 
ass.  Sliding down to sit over his legs, she massaged his thighs.  
Carelessly, her fingers brushed against his scrotum, and she smiled 
when he sucked in his breath.  She finished rubbing the length of his 
body, all the way to his toes.  Then, standing at the foot of the bed, 
she took in his beautiful naked form.  He had been quiet almost the 
whole time, letting her tend to him, allowing himself to take from her.
He was completely relaxed, his breathing slowed to a steady rhythm.

Scully laughed to herself, wondering if he had fallen asleep.  She 
wouldn't have blamed him, really.

Moving gently so as not to disturb the trance she had induced, she 
made her way back onto the bed.  Poised between his legs, she 
began the ritual.  The only part of her body that she allowed to touch 
him was her tongue, and she lapped at his exposed balls.  He moved 
to turn over, but before he could react, Scully licked him again, this 
time, her tongue making a trail from his scrotum, up the crease of his 
perfect buttocks, to the tiny pink mouth there.

"O my God," he moaned into his pillow.  Mulder lost all composure.  
Her tongue was blistering, swirling around and around his anus.  He 
had never felt anything so exquisite.  Her tongue, pushing, her teeth 
nipping, her mouth sucking and pulling at the tender flesh.  He began 
to move his hips, pushing his cock into the mattress.  His whole body 
screamed for release.

Scully was getting hot listening to his moans and watching him fuck 
her bed.  "Not so fast," she whispered.  She left his anus only to 
pinch his right buttock.  His hips halted, and Scully resumed.  She 
looked at the small hidden opening, blowing her breath at it, cooling 
the irritated skin.  It was then that she realized what was happening: 
she was seducing Fox Mulder.  And he was loving it.  She rubbed 
her cheek in the soft crevice of his buttocks, reveling in the intimate
position they were in, the emotion of the previous night flooding 
over her.

Mulder ached to be inside her, if only for the satisfaction of
_knowing_ that he was fucking her.  But it felt so good, her mouth there, licking
and prodding him.  He shivered at the sensation, the thought.

She knew he wouldn't oblige her much longer.  Moving quickly 
but taking great care with her actions, she spread her saliva over 
his anus and slid her little finger inside him.

"OGOD."  The words pushed from him as she pushed into him.  
Finding the tiny gland that sat behind his cock, she pressed on it, 
caressing gently.

Mulder's body became putty.  Every muscle, every fiber in his body 
was alive with searing sensation.  It was as if she was stroking all of
his body, all at once, tingling, pressing him on.

She removed her finger and gave the little opening one last stroke 
of her tongue, the sour taste of him lingering.  Moving to his right 
side, she pressed her wet pussy against his thigh, massaging the 
lips apart to let him feel how much she wanted him.  She melted 
listening to his muffled murmuring.

"Turn over."  He was totally compliant under her hands.  Their gaze 
met, and she smiled, absolutely full of him.

She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.  Her hair was 
mussed, her lips were slightly swollen and red.  Finally able to see 
her during their lovemaking, he gave his body over to her manipulation 
and just watched _her_.

Scully appeared transfixed at this first full sighting of his cock. 
Had Mulder been more conscious, his ego would have been greatly gratified. 

She re-positioned herself between his thighs, then guided them to a 
raised position with the soft pressure of her hands behind his knees.  
His cock was so engorged that it hurt when she grasped its base.  
Firmly cupping his balls in one hand, she worked her other hand up 
the length of his cock, milking droplets of pre-cum from its tip.  Her 
hand felt good caressing his scrotum, while she busily extracted liquid
from his cock.

Taking up the bottle of oil again, Scully poured it over his cock, 
saturating his black curls and the mattress.  Mulder watched the 
beautiful creature above him.  He watched her watching her hands 
work his cock.  He had never seen a woman take such pleasure 
in stimulating another.  She showed no shame about it whatsoever, 
just as he had always known she wouldn't.  Scully was passionate 
about everything she did, the present was no exception.  And Mulder 
knew that later, she would just as passionately give herself over 
to his subjection.

Raising his thighs a bit higher, her hand sought out his anus, and
inserted a well-oiled index finger.  Feeling her in his core catapulted him from

his thoughts, his eyes still on her.  She bowed to his cock then, and 
licked away the salty liquid that she had drawn to its tip.  Scully
licked her lips as she again tugged firmly from his shaft up to the now red
head of his cock.  She lowered her mouth to him, and with their eyes locked,
she took his head into her lips.  This for Mulder was the intersection 
of his mind and body, the point where his brain left Scully, and his
body knew only her sucking and probing.

He watched her go at him, felt her subtle retreat each time he neared 
orgasm.

When his head finally dropped to the pillow, and his hands tore at 
the bed clothes around him, she knew that he had had enough.

As he whispered her name over and over, she pulled him into her 
throat, and sucking his cock hard against her tongue, he came into 
her, his anus convulsing around her finger.  Scully let his cum
accumulate in her mouth and drip down his crotch so that she could later lick it 
from his sweaty body.  Scully extracted her finger from him, using 
both hands to render all of the pearly liquid.

He let her lick at him, spent and trembling, until he could take it 
no more.



Saturday  29 June 96
3:36am
Scully's Apartment


Grabbing her wrists, Mulder pulled her up the length of his body,
turning to rest her on her side.  "I think you've killed me," he said, kissing
her, tasting himself.  Their arms and legs entwined, his mouth alternated 
greedily between her lips and her nipples, possessing her.  Roughly, 
he parted her thighs, and planting his knee between them, he probed 
her wet sex.

Watching him suckle at her breasts, between clenched teeth she said, 
"Bite."

No sooner had she uttered the word than he trapped a nipple, biting 
and twisting it in his teeth.  Scully arched her back, forcing her
breasts up to him.

"Can I use my hands _now_, Scully?"  A contented smile played over her 
lips as she felt his flacid cock press against her leg.  He would have
plenty of time to get the best of her, and that's exactly what he was going to
do.

"Yes, Mulder."  She couldn't help but smile at his forged boyish 
charm.

Without another word or warning, he rose above her and deftly flipped 
her onto her stomach.  Scully landed hard against the mattress, her
breath temporarily escaping her.  Her heart beat with restless anticipation,
pleasantly surprised at his readiness to manipulate her, to shape her body to the
form best suited for her pleasure.  It thrilled her that he was allowing
himself to dominate her--the gentle, soft-spoken Mulder.  It just wasn't his way.

On his knees beside her, he slipped one hand under her abdomen and the 
other on her hips, raising her bottom to a lovely heart shape.  Moving 
behind her, he rubbed his cock in her wet patch, and though she had 
sapped the life from his tired sex, the wet heat sliding against his
flesh stirred him, saturated his hair.  He shuddered, thinking of plummeting 
that wetness.

Muldered admired her cunt, pink and glistening, framed by her supple 
thighs.  He ran his hands up her legs, over her hips and the swell of
her bottom, his thumbs meeting at the cleft of her smooth shaven folds.

Scully was conscious of every move he made, his hands feeling her, 
Mulder's hands feeling her.

Spreading her lips, he pulled at her pink labia, massaging them in his 
fingers.  He pursed his lips, watching his fingers explore her sex,
inside and out.  He examined her tiny opening, still guarded by a little
fleshy triangle.  Fascinated, he touched his tongue to the remnant, savoring
it, all the while inhaling her scent.

The heat of his breath on her exposed pussy sent chills down her spine.

Pressing his tongue against the precious opening, he lapped from her 
cunt to her clit in one broad stroke.  He sucked at her lips, sliding
them through his teeth, pulling, their color deepening to blood.  Then he 
sucked at the little clit, his lips firmly planted around its base, his
tongue lapping at its head, fingers burried.

Scully fought the urge to writhe, to pull away.  Instead she trembled, 
trying to stay still.  "Mulder..."

His breath caught when she said his name.  It was foreign, low,
wistful.  He hadn't realized how much he wanted to hear it. 

Raising to his knees, he observed her acquiescent form.  He knew
exactly what she wanted.   But unsure, he felt compelled to ask.

"What?"

No response.

"Tell me what you want..."

Silence.

Then biting her lip, she whispered, "Spank me."

A twinge of anxiety rippled through Mulder, though he had anticipated 
her response.  He knew that she liked to be spanked.  It just sort of
came up in conversation one day, just like he knew that she hated eating
apple peel.  Spending almost every minute of the past three years together, 
eventually such miniscule details were disclosed.  Occasionally, he
joked that he owed her a few spankings, and she would respond, "Then 
I must owe you thousands."  It interested him, but it did nothing for 
him sexually.  If anything, it turned him off, mixing sex with such a
barbaric gesture.  Mulder just could not picture himself doing it--giving or
receiving.  It just seemed so archaic, so un-Scully.  

And he knew that she knew he was skittish about it.

So when she raised her bottom, and he struck it with the flat of his
palm, he didn't know what came over him.  The powerful momentum pulling his 
hand, the sweet second when flesh connected with flesh, then the slight
shimmy of her crimson bottom as he withdrew.  He did it again and
again, and every time she moaned, spurring him on.  Varying rhythms,
intensities, his hand hot and tingling, lingered, sometimes molded to the curve of
her bottom.  Scully's moans were reduced to whimpers as he stung her
buttocks, pink imprints of his hand lingering on her flesh.  He felt the heat
radiating from her.  Leaning down, he pressed his cheek to her buttock, pausing 
to smell the fragrant skin there.  He kissed her flesh, slowly drawing
his lips away, then traced the curve of her ass with his tongue.

A primal surge of adrenaline rushed through his body, spear headed by
his hard cock.

It was more than power, dominance.  It was the fact that she trusted
him enough to let him emit this seemingly violent expression, and because 
of that, he trusted himself to take her to the level of ecstasy she
desired with no pushing, no subjection.  She wanted it, and he freely, lovingly gave
it.  

And finally he understood.

Her resistance caved the more he spanked her, and Mulder slid his 
hand under her abdomen to support her hips, her pussy fully exposed.  
Then, eyes fixed on her pooching lips, he delivered hard stinging slaps
to them, the tips of his fingers dabbing in her juices.  He slapped her
there, quick, tingling slaps, her bottom wriggling beneath his hand.   With
one good slap, her lips parted to reveal the wet red flesh that he had
irritated.  Seeing the liquid collected at her opening, he wiped it away with his
tongue, spreading it throughout his mouth as he swallowed.

Scully shied away from his hot mouth on her already smoldering flesh.  
Then looking over her shoulder, she said, "Fuck me, Mulder... Please
make love with me now."

Heeding her words, he aligned himself behind her and rubbed his cock on
the smooth bare lips of her pussy.  He pushed inside her, slowly
working his cock head in then drawing out, testing, teasing her.  Pushing his
way inside her, her tight little sex enveloped him.

It had been a long time for them both.  Mulder winced as his engorged 
cock was pressed and formed to her.  Tension fled Scully's body as he 
loosened her, the sweet, familiar pangs of pain-tinged ecstasy.

"I want to see your face..." Mulder whispered.  He withdrew his cock, 
pausing only again to examine the bit of flesh that had permitted his
entrance.  Bending, he kissed it, then turned her onto her back.

Sitting on the bed, he pulled her onto his lap, his hands settling on
her hips, eyes locked on hers.

Scully sat on his cock, her head back, biting her lip each time he
nudged her cervix. 

Reaching down, Mulder stroked her clitoris, the base of his cock sealed
at her opening.  He watched her ride him, felt her hips undulating over 
him.  He wanted nothing more than to be part of her, her rhythm, her 
pulse.  Raising his hips, he pushed into her, not wanting any distance
to come between them.  He focused completely on the head of his cock and 
the pressure around it, pushing it exactly where she directed.

Scully worked her muscles around him, gripping and massaging him.  Her
arms wrapped tightly around his neck, delighting in the rough friction
of her nipples rubbing in his chest hair.

They fucked like that for a while, Mulder wanting to hold out as long
as sanely possible.  But Scully rode him harder, desparate to release the
energy trapped in her groin.

When finally she came, her body froze, her nails slashed at his back, 
and she bit into his shoulder, muffling what would have been without 
doubt, a scream.  Softly moaning, her mouth returned to his, and they 
kissed as her liquids trickled down his balls.

Pushing her onto her back , Mulder's thrusting subsided, as he caught 
his breath.  Drawing her tiny feet up to his shoulders, he nibbled 
her toes and ran his tongue over her delicate arches.  He almost came, 
feeling her cool toes against his face and in his mouth, his cock still
burried in her hot pussy.

Watching him worship her feet, Scully laughed.  She knew it was ill-
timed, but it was quite an unusual scene he made.

Mulder sheepishly sucked a little toe.  He shrugged, "I can't help
it..."

"I know that about you," she said, looking askance at him.

"How did you know?"  He thought he had been smooth in playing off
his only true fetish.

"I'm an observant partner," she said, winking.  It was true.  She had
caught him staring at her feet several times, but had politely
refrained from commenting.  So instead, she always wore fantastic shoes to
tease him, cleavage a must.

"Indeed you are," he purred.  Long ago he had incorporated into his 
morning routine scoping out Scully's shoes.  And he always found an 
excuse to perch on the edge of her desk, chatting, while fawning over 
her flexed arches and pointed toes.

Ego eased, he pressed her feet together, and retreating from her cunt,
he slid into the opening formed by her arches.  Reveling in the rough
sensation, he pumped a few more times between her feet, then raised
them back to his shoulders.

Mulder turned his attention back to Scully, spread before him,
beautiful and insatiable.  He knelt over her, stroking his cock, while she
observed.

Arms around her, his hands resting under her head, he fucked her then, 
hard and deliberate, invading her, matching her ferocious rhythm, until
her cunt again convulsed around his cock.  This time, his own tremors 
accompanied hers, bathing their crotches in warm, sticky cum.

Collapsing onto her, they lay panting.  After a few moments, Mulder 
raised over her, watching as he pulled himself out of her.  Then
rolling them onto their sides, Mulder kissed her again, this time more tenderly.

Propped up on his elbow, he looked over her form, smiling as his eyes 
reached his bright red handiwork of her bottom.

"I never knew it could be like this..." he whispered, stoking her hair.

Scully smiled.  "You were fabulous..."

"...for a brother," he added.

She balked at his chagrin, then laughed.  "And this is just the
beginning..."

Mulder's expresion turned gravely serious.

"So...you're sure about this?"  he asked.  

"Mulder!"  She shoved his shoulder.  "YES, I'm sure!"  She was still
laughing, but she couldn't believe her ears.

He cowered and said, "Well, you didn't actually _say_, so I just 
wanted to make sure we were...you know...coming from the same place..."

"You're such a woman..." she quipped.  "...And what place would that
be?"

"I love it when you're sexist."  

He laid his head on the pillow beside her 
and sighed.  He never felt like he was good at handling moments like
this, moments that he was stripped of everything cerebral and was reduced
to an emotional nerve.  These moments had been few, but profound.

"I'm just really glad that you're not at the bay this weekend."


end