Date sent: Mon, 16 Jun 1997 20:38:28 -0700 From: Raine I am submitting my story Undertow. Its is in three parts, and I have already submitted the first two. To make this easier, though, I am including all three parts here. I've had problems attaching files lately for some reason so it is below. The only thing I haven't included is a summary. I guess it would be: Scully is having problems dealing with her cancer, forcing Mulder to confront his feelings for her. Here you are : Undertow by Raine rain@isomedia.com Rating: NC-17 Content warning: Not a happy story, cancer, etc, enough said. Spoilers: Post Momento Mori, pre-Demons Classification: SRA Disclaimer warning: Well, I didn't just think up the characters of Mulder and Scully. They belong to Chris Carter, Fox, or 1013, or some wacky legal combination of the three. Although I personally think Scully might have a real problem with that concept, haha. So, don't sue me seems to be the main idea here. Not that I have any money anyway. ************************************************************************************ Moaning. Mulder drifted through a maze of rooms. Bodiless faces floated in and drifted out of his vision, a Samantha that wasn't really, Deep Throat, Cancerman...laughing, mocking his efforts to find the source of the moaning. It had steadily grown louder and more urgent. He knew he needed to find the source, it was vital, he didn't know why, but frantically he floundered onward, the only lighted point in the maze the one he was on, a spotlight, and every point looked like every other point. Finally, he thrashed so violently that he woke up, still trying to run. The sheet covering him was drenched with sweat and twisted impossibly around his legs and waist. He looked around, seeing only the bland tan wallcovering of the Cocoa Beach hotel room he had fallen asleep in. Funny how menacing the picture of the kitten and puppy looked after a really bad one, he mused. Practically rabid, to his eye. He shook his head, breaking the reverie. The moaning was still there. Not a dream. Coming from Scully's room. ****************************************************** Impossibly quick, he lunged toward her with an economy and ease of effort as she ran faster than she would have believed possible, only to fall further behind. He would tear her to ribbons, just like all the other women, she *knew* it, just as she knew how he would enjoy doing it, was thinking about it even now, just as he *knew* what she was thinking. He drank off fear, it made him stronger, but she couldn't stop it, couldn't stop being afraid... his lips split with huge yellow teeth in a wide smile as he persued her. She was alone, she drew her gun, and he fell on her as she pointed and pulled the trigger...too slowly...he raised one hand and ohgodohgod smiled, waving "bye bye"... shiny...knife...she screamed. The next she knew she was woke, swinging blindly, and one of her flailing arms connected with a smack and a cry. Had to, had to get away..Mulder...she had just hit Mulder in the face. He had one arm around her and one was on his cheek. "Well, Scully, I've had lots of reactions from women in bed, but this has to be the most unique." His eyes were concerned, belying his wry tone. She stared at him bewildered. "Are you OK, Scully?" She shook her head. "I...I'm fine, Mulder. I just was dreaming..." "Of Walter Bennett?" No need to say his name, they had spent the last three weeks tracking down that monster. It was another of his techniques to keep the horror at bay. If you can name it, you can know it, if you can know it, the horror is less. But not for Scully. Not tonight, and she thought suddenly, perhaps not ever. Not that ever was that long anymore, she thought suddenly. She forced down the sudden rush of bile that crept up from her gut. He looked at her, his head cocked, studying her. She felt uncomfortable, like a bug under glass, and was reminded suddenly that he was trained to look at emotion that way. Suddenly, as if he could read her unease, he smiled. "Wanna go for a swim, Scully?" ************************************************************************ Mulder half- floated, half- treaded water. He leaned his head back as the undertow preceding the waves alternately sucked and pushed his chest above the surface of the water. The moon was a hair away from full. It seemed impossibly close to the water on the horizon. If only they could get closer, maybe ... He kicked his legs idly and watched. When had he started thinking of even the most obscure things in terms of "we"? It seemed as though she had always been there. He thought back to before she had been buried underground, as he thought of their basement office, with him. Easy enough to see the face of the partners he had gone through, lined up in his mind one by one. Impossible to reconcile emotionally, a time she hadn't been there at his side. he thought, mocking himself silently. He shook himself of the voice and just watched her. Scully breathed in a heady mixture of mist and warm tropical air. It was, she thought, a delivery method for emotional healing. She almost laughed. If only she could stick it in an inhaler like asthma medicine, she'd be a rich woman. She pictured herself, wealthy beyond her wildest dreams, working in the J Edgar Hoover basement... Why did she see herself there? Well, she reasoned, I know I would work, I would go insane otherwise. And where else but the x- files division, where she had dedicated her career? She turned her head and looked at him, bobbing. He was staring at the moon with a look intense concentration. She laughed out loud, a throaty laugh that caused Mulder to turn and gape at her. The story of Mulder's life, she thought. Always looking at the moon on the horizon. She felt enormous affection for him, his hair plastered down onto his head, eyes wide, bobbing up and down in the ocean. Had she ever known anyone as well as this man? Scully reflected that everything she had been through with him had only served to highlight his essential nobility. She could never tell him that...but there it was. He would take it entirely the wrong way if she put it in those terms. She shook her head. Emotional cobwebs. Too many to sort out right now. Had her father felt this way, under the moon, floating on the ocean, his duty for the night over, thinking of his family? She relaxed and just let herself be embraced by the water, watching the stars and moon. Mulder watched Scully stare at the sky and drifted closer. The soft light flowed on her face and the water running up and down the sides of her body in soft rythm. They were far enough out that the waves were soft. Soft. Her short T-shirt had formed to her breasts, the only part of her really out of the the water besides her shorts-clad hips. Shorts up, slightly out of water, back in the water. In the water, out of the water. In, and out...he felt himself growing hypnotized. He looked at something else. *Anything* else... her feet. Her toes stuck out of the water. Small feet, he reflected. Tiny, short toes on tiny feet. How could anyone's feet be so small? How did she walk? He stared at the silvery feet in fascination. Unable to stop himself, he dived. Scully stretched in the water on her back. Almost time to get back, she reflected, before she fell asleep. Scully turned her head. Where was Mulder? Gone, nowhere to be seen. A huge splash right next to her. She sucked in wind, momentarily scared senseless. Luckily her nose and mouth were above water. Every bedtime story her father had ever told her of giant ocean creatures suddenly came back to her, paralyzing, before she saw it was Mulder. "Damn it., Mulder, you scared me." She hated the abrasive tone of her voice but couldn't stop herself. "Sorry, Scully" He really did look sorry, she noticed. Shamefaced even. She looked at him for a moment and relented. "It's allright. You just gave me a start, that's all." He mock grimaced. "Jeez, Scully, I didn't think I looked that bad. Is it the hair?" She grinned in spite of herself, playing along. "No." She looked down. " Mulder, I didn't know you were a foot man." He was clutching her feet in his hands. His hands swallowed them almost entirely. "Um...well, just wanted to make sure you were ok... You know, Scully, you have, um, very small feet." What was that? Embarrassment? She used his grip on her feet as leverage to bring herself closer, bending her knees. He was still holding her feet in a tight grip before he finally let go, treading in one spot as she came at him. She meant to just swim up to him, but the momentum brought her body into contact with his. Her chest collided with his, and in an effort to move herself backward, she succeeded in pulling herself closer, her arms around his chest She let out a small sound of frustration as he looked down at her. A strange half- smile on his face, Mulder adjusted her effortlessly, moving her legs up and around his waist, holding her steady with one hand on the small of her back. She leaned back into the oncoming waves, her legs wrapped around his waist. The current rocked them back and forth slowly. Closer to shore, farther away...she fell into a light trance, a combination of the man she seemed to be using as a chair and the gentle pull of the vast ocean at her back. She tried to resist the pull of the situation she was in, and senced it was a lost cause. ..."Mulder..." she began, shoring up her inner defenses. Her fingers, with a mind of their own, spread out on his bare chest. Cool from the water, smooth...again, she began to drift. Again, she struggled against it. She couldn't let herself be sucked in. "Mulder." "Hmm, what is it Scully?" He curled his arm around her back, bringing her even closer to his face. The small smile on his face slipped away as she slid down his body, and he stared at her, his expression unreadable. She let out a small sigh. He felt solid, *real*. For one of the first times in her thirty-odd years, Special Agent Dana Katherine Scully, M. D. decided that she would rather not think about it, and let the current pull her partway under. Mulder stared down at the woman floating in front of him. Her hair was slicked back by water against her skull. There was one small piece on her cheek...he brushed it away carefully with his index finger, letting his finger move to drift down her cheekbone to her full lower lip. He stared at his finger, fascinated. He glanced up into her wide eyes momentarily before looking back down, this time at her short t- shirt, which had also plastered itself to her form, revealing full firm breasts. *Very* firm. *All* of them. He couldn't stop himself from staring at the two small pebbles in her shirt. It was all he could do not to wrap his hands around them simply to see if they could *possibly* be that hard. Scully was wondering exactly this situation had led to her partner staring at her chest with fascination, like a child staring at a new toy. And she had almost succeeded when he leaned forward. He whispered , "Hey, Scully, are you cold?" His lips were right next to her ear, his breath exhaled softy onto her neck. She shuddered. The breath went all the way down her spinal column deep into the middle of her legs. "Maybe I am" she managed. Her voice sounded almost strangled. She pushed herself away and began to swim for shore. Her limbs felt weak. Her leg muscles trembled as she kicked them out behind her. When she finally reached shore, she called out, "I'm going back, Mulder. I'll see you later." His voice barely reached her from the water. "Yeah, Scully, later..." She walked back up the beach, her legs shaking, Goosebumps standing from her skin in the night air, her clothes running rivulets of moisture onto the sand. She reached the hotel minutes later, and let herself into the room, peeling off her wet clothes seconds after she shut the door. Scully dropped the shorts and t-shirt into the bathroom sink and stepped into the shower with a sigh. The water was almost too hot to stand, and it produced cherry-tomato size blothes on her skin. It felt wonderful. She soaped herself down slowly, closing her eyes and thinking involuntarily of large hands with slender fingers on her back. Moving up her arms, neck, down her chest, grazing her nipples...she heard a sound come from her throat as if from a distance, a low moan. Her hands paused momentarily on their downward path, and resumed. Fingers pressed into her lower belly, slid in between her thighs...that sound again, louder. Fingers now in between her legs, soaping, soaping until she could have been the cleanest woman alive... and she wanted, wanted so badly to feel alive, to forget. Suddenly, she couldn't make herself forget anymore. She wasn't alive, not totally. She was dying, and no matter what she said, no matter what she did, what treatments she endured, it was still there, a stranger, a devil in her body sucking up healthy cells, and producing foul, malignant caricatures. In fact, the simple act of pleasure helped supply it with nutrients... She started to cry under the suddenly scalding water. Sobs wracked her body, her knees folded, and she curled up into a ball, a heaving mass of flesh in the steam-filled bathroom. Mulder stood, frozen outside the open bathroom door. Conflicting emotions flew through him. Arousal, dismay, fear foremost. He wanted to go to her, wrap his arms around her. It was an almost irrisistable pull...but he couldn't. He moved quickly out of her room before he could change his mind, and pulled the door closed softly behind him. his inner voice hissed at him. As he went into his room, he told himself he had done the right thing. Dana Scully would never want him to see her that way, he might as well shoot her in the head. He went to his room and flong himself on the bed. , he argued with himself. He sat on his bed, shaking. He wanted to go back to Scully's room so badly. He knew, however, that the level of weakness she allowed herself was dramatically different than that she allowed him. Through the shared wall between their rooms, he heard the water shut off, and sounds emerge. Rustling sounds...a hair drier. He sighed in relief, and picked up his cell phone. Well, that's it, please send any comments, suggestions, death threats (haha...) to the following: rain@isomedia.com Part two: Undertow 2/? by Raine rain@isomedia.com Rating: This part is probably a PG, perched on a slippery slope. Spoilers: Post-Momento Mori, pre-Demons Classification: SRA Disclaimer warning: Well, I didn't just think up the characters of Mulder and Scully. They belong to Chris Carter, Fox, or 1013, or some wacky legal combination of the three. I promise to wipe all memory of this nasty experience from their minds when I'm done with them. This one's for Jennifer Maurer, who encouraged me to continue this. ************************************************************************************** She thought she heard something over the raging drier in her hand, so she turned it off for a moment, cocking her partially blow-dried head. High pitched ringing. As she walked to the cell phone she had left in her purse, she glanced at the wind-up clock she had placed on the faux-wood dresser. Almost four in the morning. She flipped the phone open. "What is it, Mulder." "Hey, Scully, you weren't sleeping, were you?" "Mulder, you know perfectly well I was not sleeping, these walls are paper thin. What's up?" "I just wanted to remind you, our flight is in five and a half hours." "Mulder, why did you really call." His voice sounded of exaggerated pain. "What, I'm not allowed to remind you? You should thank me, you might have over slept. " "*I* am the one holding the tickets, in case you have forgotten. Therefore I am the one to keep track of our flight time, and perfectly aware." She sounded tired. "Now, in case you have anything more stunning facts to report, like, for example, that they gave us extra towels, I am going to sleep for all of...three hours." Silence. She waited for a second, then said "Goodnight, Mulder." "Wait, Scully...are you there?" "Yes." She was fast becoming annoyed. "Are you alright? This is strange, even for you." "I'm fine. Are...are *you* okay Scully?" She paused, an "I'm fine, Mulder" on the tip of her tongue. *Was* she fine? She felt, actually, about as far from fine as she could imagine right now, emotionally. Physically...her tired brain just couldn't wrap itself around that one now. She needed sleep. "I just need some rest. The swim wore me out." "Yeah, me too, Scully. Will you wake me up in the morning; I don't want to send for a wake-up call this late. That man in the lobby didn't look too reliable." Scully stifled a sigh. That's what she was all right. Old reliable. "Sure, no problem." "Don't let the bed bugs bite, Scully." She could hear his grin through the phone. "Night, Mulder. And Mulder? Next time, use the hotel phone, you know they do provide those for a reason." "Hotel...phone?" He sounded altogether unfamiliar with the concept. "Yes, the big box with the buttons on it? Has a cord? Like a cell phone, only larger? They're *free*, Mulder." "Free...hmm...I see, Scully...any other *free* things you want to let me in on while I'm still here?" In spite of her tiredness, she felt the beginnings of a flush. "Uh, no, Mulder, Goodnight." Mulder smiled as he cut the connection. She sounded a little better, but he was still worried. He'd have to try and talk to her tomorrow. Whether she would want to talk to him about what was bothering her was a different story altogether, though. ************************************************************************************** The woman in the light blue and white shirt and pants knocked on the door once, then once again. No answer, plus no sign, meant she could enter. She opened the door, and was surprised to see a woman sprawled on the bed, asleep. Her red hair spread around the foot of the bed where her head had ended up. The covers were twisted around her small frame. The door opening must have penetrated her sleep, though, because suddenly she was lunging for...a gun on the nightstand. She fell off the bed in the process, not realizing she was upside down. The maid shrieked and slammed the door in her haste to leave, knocking over her cart in the hallway in the process. Cleaner bottles and towels went everywhere. Suddenly, there were *two* of them, with guns, in the hall, staring at her. She started wailing prayers to God above to deliver her from these two armed and obviously insane people. Mulder looked over at Scully, who lowered her Sig in disgust. The adrenaline rush that had shot him out of bed at the sound of the cart knocking over and maid shrieking was wearing off, and his look was bemused. "Do you know what she's saying, Scully?" She shook her head, still wearing a dazed expression. Red hairs were shooting in every direction around her head, and she was still only wearing the huge brown T-shirt she had slept in. He had to stifle the urge to laugh, knowing it would not be appreciated. "Only bits and pieces. Something about 'God...please...crazy'. My Spanish isn't up to that kind of speed." It took them several minutes to calm the woman down. Scully let her hold their badges until she seemed reassured that they were legitimate. Luckily for them her English was about as good as Scully's Spanish, so she couldn't ask them why they had overreacted so badly to a hotel maid. FBI was about all she seemed to comprehend. They sent her on her way with a generous tip. Hopefully the hotel manager didn't understand Spanish either. Mulder sighed. He had changed into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt and was sitting on Scully's bed. "Well, we missed our flight." Scully sat across from him at the table by the window. She had slipped on a pair of jeans under her sleep T-shirt. She began, "I'm sorry, Mulder, you were right, I thought I had set my alarm..." He interrupted her. "Scully, relax. I think we both needed the rest. Even *I* slept, believe it or not." She laughed. "I shudder to think, a fully rested Fox Mulder, unleashed upon society, the havoc, the horror..." Her eyes lit up as she laughed, he noticed. She looked rested herself, happy. "Now, none of that, Agent Scully. I don't think that kind of blatant insubordination has any place in this person's bureau." His voice sounded positively Skinneresque. She laughed harder. Mulder stared at her amazed. He had seen her dry sense of humor; he had also seen her laugh, but never anything like this full-belly laugh. He reflexively grabbed her hand, causing her to stop dead and stare at him. "It's good to see you laugh, Scully. I don't think I've ever seen that before." She looked at him, wide-eyed. Was it really possible that she had never laughed out loud in front of him like that? It seemed so natural. Scully looked down at their intertwined hands. Mulder's hand was large and warm. It felt...safe...and something else. She didn't want him to let go, but every moment he held on made the moment more awkward. Made it mean something different. A charged and electric current that threatened to suck her under. Lose herself. Mulder continued, "I've been worried about you, Scully. You haven't been yourself lately." She looked up and winced. The same thing she had sensed was in his eyes. Pity. It was pity. How could she have thought...? She yanked her hand away, made her voice distant. "I'm fine ,Mulder, like I said last night, I just needed sleep. That's why I overslept." "I'm not talking about why you overslept, Scully. I'm talking about *you*. " She looked up, momentarily shocked. He was perched on the edge of the bed, leaning toward her. His gaze met and trapped hers. "Let me in, Scully. I told you I was afraid of the same thing you are. Why can't you trust me? What can I say to make you understand? You're the strongest person I know, but no one should have to deal with what you are alone. Scully, I don't...I don't want to lose you." She sat there, stunned at the intensity in his voice. His eyes were pleading. The single most horrible thing that could have at that moment happened. She started to cry. ********************************************************************************** Mulder stared at the woman crying across from him. What had he done? He wanted to shock her, make her open up to him...well, he thought wryly, he had succeeded. He had succeeded in making Scully weep. He ought to be proud of himself, big man, making a woman with cancer break down and cry. What kind of idiot was he, anyway? He did the only thing he could think of. He gently put his arms around her and sat her on the bed. They sat there like that for several minutes, his arms around her as she cried onto his shoulder. He whispered, "It's okay, let it out, Scully, I'm right here. You can trust me, I won't let you fall..." She slowly collected herself. "I...I'm sorry, Mulder, I don't know what..." "Stop apologizing for your feelings, Scully." He broke his eyes from hers, went and got her several tissues. He sat down beside her again as she honked and sniffled. Finally she met his gaze again and smiled wryly. "Thanks. I guess I should call the Bureau, huh?" Mulder got up again, smiling slightly. "That's okay, I'll do it, Skinner is used to this from me, anyway, it'll make him more comfortable inside if he's able to start his day off right by chewing me out." Not that he would, anyway. Skinner owed him a few at the moment. He sat down on the other side of the bed and picked up the hotel phone. Scully's eyes widened as she watched. It shouldn't have meant anything, but somehow...it did. In the years they had spent together, she had noted the changes in herself from her contact with "Spooky". She would count them, like a growing child would count scabs on their legs. With morbid fascination and a kind of pride. She couldn't see how she had changed him, however. His theories were as incredible as they always were, his habits were the same, what she knew of them, anyway. Everything the same. Until now. She hadn't known she needed to see it, but she had. She had managed to impact him somehow, and the thought made her feel very good. Dana shook herself. She was getting punchy again. Why on earth...her blue eyes widened as a thought occurred to her. A thought that had occurred to her before in the four years with Mulder, but one she had managed to dismiss or rationalize. She couldn't manage either now. Scully stared at him, listening to his voice. "Yes, sir...yes...I still need to call the airline, I just thought I'd let you know...I will...yes, sir, okay, goodbye." he turned to tell Scully what was going on. She was standing at the foot of the bed looking at him wide-eyed with an unreadable expression. No, not unreadable... maybe startled? Probably just reading her wrong, she *had* just cried. "I'll call the airline." Scully opened her mouth, closed it. Opened it again. "Mulder, don't." He looked at her, puzzled. "Why not?" "I..." She looked at him with an unreadable stare. "Mulder, did you mean it, what you said earlier?" "Yes, I did, Scully." He didn't need to ask what she was talking about. Mulder found himself lost in her eyes as his partner started across the floor toward him. She had to find out. She knew Mulder well enough, he wouldn't do anything if he didn't feel the same, maybe with a woman he didn't know, but not with her. She knew it would be the end of their partnership if she was wrong, but that was a distant and unpressing matter next to the feelings she was allowing to surface for the first time. She felt the rush pull her under, and this time she let herself go. Mulder watched as Scully stopped before him. She put her hands lightly on his shoulders and stared at him, her eyes heavy-lidded. He still couldn't recognize that look, what was she...she licked her lips involuntarily. Suddenly the haziness of her eyes made perfect sense. "Oh, god," he whispered. She bent down, tilting her head slightly, her eyes closed. Her scent surrounded him, musk and almost a tangy smell, citrus or berry, he thought. Her lips pressed softly on his, then released. He felt almost a physical tug in his pants as her body pulled away. "Has it been so long, Mulder? You look confused." She had opened her eyes slightly, and was staring at him a combination of worry and amusement. As if she hadn't quite decided which was appropriate. "Uh...his voice wouldn't obey him. He swallowed and tried not to focus on the impact of the physical sensations on his body. He said quietly, "Why, Dana?" She looked him dead in the eyes. "Because I love you, Mulder. I...don't have time to lie to myself about how I feel anymore. Whether I'm sick or not. You helped me realize that, Mulder." She knew now, no matter what happened, that she was making the right decision. It was time to stop lying, because no matter how well intentioned it was meant, it was still not the truth. ************************************************************************************ It's wrong, its mean, but I'm stopping here, this part is getting out of hand. Any comments appreciated...please please please, don't make me beg, damn, I guess I just did. :-) Part three: Undertow 3/3 Raine rain@isomedia.com Rating:NC-17 Spoilers: Post- Momento Mori, pre- Demons Classification: SRA Disclaimer: The characters of Dana Scully and Fox Mulder aren't mine, they belong to Chris Carter, Fox, and 1013. No copyright infringement is intended; no money is being made. Author's note: My first attempt at smu...eroti...this kind of thing. Please be kind. ************************************************************************************** Mulder stared at the petite woman who stood in front of him. Her feet were planted almost at shoulder level and her small arms were crossed in front of her middle. She looked as if she was bracing herself for a strong wind-or a blow to the solar plexus. Her eyebrow was slightly raised. It would have been an overall impression of strength, if defensive, if he couldn't see the look on her face. Scully looked frightened. More frightened than he had ever seen her. She looked at the floor, biting the corner of her mouth. Letting him know without words that she was waiting. He realized he was focusing on these details to keep from thinking about the bomb she had just dropped in his lap. The huge, silently ticking bomb between them. "Because I love you," she'd said. So certain, looking into his eyes. He looked down at the floor, causing his already unruly hair to fall over his forehead and partially obscure his eyes. *Was* she certain, though? The smug little psychologist in his brain, the one he normally managed to keep a tight lid on, piped up happily with a carefully tallied list of all of Dana Scully's losses in the time she had known him. Her father (the voice was having a field day with that one). Her abduction and loss of her sense of safety. Another kidnapping, this time by Donnie Pfaster. Salt into an open wound. Her sister, Melissa. Her cancer. And that's just for starters, the voice added helpfully. Add to that the threats to her worldview, her faith in knowledge through science. With a life so in upheaval, was it any wonder she would look for an anchor? And who else but the man who was responsible for most of these horrible things? The partner who just a moment ago sat down beside her on the bed and watched her weep? What all this information boiled down to, though, was pretty simple. Scully couldn't possibly love him. If things were different he would be the last person on earth she would think about in bed at night. The vivid image this thought placed in his mind sent a momentary shock down his spine. What was he doing, torturing himself with these thoughts? He needed to tell her, explain to her that she was just displacing her feelings. If all these things were true, he reflected, then why was explaining them to her the very last thing he wanted to do, right after gouging out his own eyes with a plastic knife? These thoughts ran through his mind in the minute he sat there in silence. Finally, he looked up to meet Scully's gaze, shielding himself and shoring up his inner defenses. He would need them. He was about to do the hardest thing in his life, tell the woman he loved why she didn't return his feelings. As Mulder met Dana's red-rimmed eyes, he felt his hastily built defenses crumbling. He knew he had to say something now, or he would lose the inner battle. She was so beautiful, even standing there in that huge T-shirt and blue jeans, auburn hair still rumpled, bare feet with painted toenails. Red. He felt himself drift. He couldn't do this. Mulder took his feelings for Scully and applied a liberal dose of guilt and self-incrimination. His fault. His fault she was crying. That she had cancer at all. He was helping her for once, keeping her from a huge mistake. "Scully, sit down." Dana looked at him. He could see the pain in her eyes, and he knew, suddenly, that none of his words were necessary. He had already answered her unspoken question. Blue eyes met hazel. This time he was the one to look away. Her voice. She sounded so sad. Had she sounded like this when she told him about her tumor? He didn't think she had. God, what was he doing to her? His guts twisted. "No thanks Mulder. I don't really think that's necessary. I had something to express, and I voiced it. Nothing you can say will change it, and nothing I can add will alter how you feel." At that, he looked up and saw the pleading in her eyes. Tell me I'm wrong, that look said. Tell me you love me. It passed so quickly he could almost imagine he hadn't seen it. He thought that might be a good idea for his sanity. "Dana," Mulder began softly,"You don't understand. You've been through so much, it changes how things...impact you." He fumbled for words, stumbling over his own tongue. All of his considerable eloquence was rapidly flying out the window. He fought to continue. "It's natural, really, um..." If he had been able to force himself to meet Scully's eyes, he would have seen her expression change from stoic acceptance to shock to pure fury. Her voice hissed, interrupting him. "Mulder, that is the most sanctimonious pile of...*bullshit* I have ever heard. You say that I only *think* I love you? That I cannot presume to have reached the state of enlightened sophistication that Fox Mulder, in his wisdom, has obtained about what *my* feelings are? Cut the crap, Mulder. Underneath that prepared speech you're trying to deliver, all I see is a scared little boy, afraid to love, but mostly afraid to *be* loved. I can accept that you don't love me, Mulder, but what I cannot and *will not* accept is you lying to yourself about why you are pushing me away." The bright sunshine slanted in through the window, lighting her pale skin with a luminous glow, causing her dark furious eyes to flash at him, and her hair to glow like a saint's halo above her head. She was gorgeous. Mulder stared at her, his mouth open. He had expected many things, but not this...passion, this anger. How could he have thought that this stunning, strong, intelligent woman in front of him wouldn't know her own mind? He inwardly groaned. Mulder was lost. Scully loved him. The reality of that penetrated, and it floored him. He loved her, knew now that he had loved her for a long time, perhaps forever. He thought, he felt, that this depth couldn't just come into creation, but was lying there, an underlying ocean of feeling to be tapped when exactly the right person, the right soul came. This image shattered the flimsy intellectual defenses he had constructed. He looked at Dana, standing in front of him, and he knew that if he didn't do something he would lose the most important thing in his life, and he would lose her forever. Scully had her fire up, and she was prepared for a fight. She was even ready for Mulder to storm out, or, worse, to leave quietly, with a gruesome pity disguised as respect for her feelings. What she was not prepared for was a Mulder who put his hands on her shoulders, just as she had done to him what seemed a lifetime ago. Then to lean in towards her. Instincts took over and she closed her eyes and breathed in deeply of his scent. Mulder grabbed her earlobe with his lips and tugged gently, sucking. She gasped as shocks sparked down her spine, weakening her knees. She fought to keep her head. Why was he doing this to her? Suddenly, she remembered. Cancer. Wrenching herself away from the pull of his body was bitterly hard. "I don't want your pity, Mulder." Her voice sounded breathless underneath the harsh tone. Mulder moved closer into her personal space, so close she could feel the hum of electricity between their bodies. She began to overheat in spite of the loose T-shirt she was wearing and the low roar of the air conditioning unit on high underneath the window. He put a finger underneath her chin, bringing her face up to see his expression. "You don't have it, Dana." He bent down and pressed his lips softly into the hollow of her collarbone, breathing deeply. Mulder moved his hands to her upper arms and pushed her gently back to the wall. She let him. Suddenly it didn't seem important to struggle against the barrage of sensations. Pressed against the wall, she felt his tongue and lips trace patterns sideways to the hollow of her throat as a finger traced the low neckline of her baggy T-shirt. Another hand reached around her and slid between her bottom and the wall while his body pressed her. She could feel his hard length moving against her thigh as he moved upward. She gasped. Scully could feel the surge of moisture between her legs. Her knees weakened further, and she was thankful she was pressed up against him, or she might have slid down the wall to land in a puddle on the floor. She heard Mulder's voice, against her ear, his breath moving in and out, the warm pull of it making her even more aroused, if that was possible. She didn't even care about the conversation they had before. Thoughts of pushing the man in front of her to the floor and stripping him ran through her passion-hazed mind. "I want you, Dana. All of you. Do you understand?" She managed to whisper, "Shut up, Mulder," just seeing the glint of confusion, then amusement in his eyes before she kissed him. There was nothing gentle about the kiss this time. Her lips pressed against his, and she felt his tongue slide in, tasting her inner cheek and dueling with her own. His lips pressed so hard they threatened to hurt. His body pressed her harder against the wall. Scully was thinking seriously of redefining her position on clothes. They were definitely getting in the way here. She groaned aloud. He'd made her more aroused than any man she'd ever been with, and all they had done was kiss. She was in way over her head. Wanting to return the favor, Dana reached under Mulder's shirt, running up his smooth chest. Yes, he unquestionably had too many clothes on. She ran her fingernails lightly up to his neck, and back down to graze lightly over his small erect points of flesh. He moaned. She repeated the motion, grazing her nails around to his back, where she dug in briefly as she deliberately thrust her hips upward into his. Mulder ripped Scully's shirt over her head, then his own. Her full breasts swayed momentarily in reaction to the upward jerk of the fabric. He swallowed. They were firm, smooth and ivory-pale with reddened puckered nipples. Beautiful. He leaned down and took one in his moist mouth, lightly skimming their hardened surface with his front teeth before sucking softly. She let out an inarticulate cry and involuntarily jerked up against him again. Mulder felt his body begin to rebel. He wasn't going to be able to make this last longer than he could rip the rest of their clothes off and get inside her if she kept making that...sound. As he moved to her other breast he wondered if she would make a noise like that when he...his thoughts trailed off as Scully unzipped his jeans. One small cool hand snaked its way inside his boxers and grasped his turgid penis. "That's dangerous, Scully," he managed, gazing at her flushed cheeks and moist lips. She gave him a look of total self-satisfaction and said into his ear, "I know." Her hand found its way further downward to grasp his balls. He lost all of the already tattered self-restraint. Her jeans, then his. His boxers on the floor next. He pressed her hard against the wall, bruising her face, mouth, and neck with marks of possession. He could feel her there, slick against his leg, sliding. They made small sounds as they pressed together. Mulder pulled away momentarily, looking down at the small siren in front of him. She stared up at him, smiling, breathless, her red hair tousled, and in that moment he knew he would die or kill rather than have anyone separate them ever again. "Mulder, you are taking just too damn long," she whispered, wrapping her hand around his thick and straining length. Sliding up, sliding down. Oh lord, he was in trouble. "Don't you want me to...?" he managed. "Somehow I don't think that's going to be a problem this time...Fox." she said teasingly. He lifted her light mass up and against the wall as he slid into her tight warmth. She cried out. "Oh god, Mulder..." as he filled her completely. His scent, the feel of his body, inside her made her feel complete like she had never been, pieces she had never even known were missing suddenly clicked into place. She moaned in despair as he left for the first time, only to return seconds later, sandwiching her between the smooth surface and his warm flesh. Her legs tightened around his waist, pushing him further inside of her. This time he was the one supplicating God. Mulder walked over to the bed, Scully wrapped around the upper half of his body, kissing an stroking him. He heaved their joined mass onto the sheets and still-tangled covers. He began to pound into her slowly at first, then faster, pushing her legs upward onto his shoulders. He pushed some of considerable moisture upward to rub gently on the sensitive nerve ending between her legs. She cried out, thrashing underneath him, her legs tightening their almost painful hold on him. He could feel her clench around him as he slid in and out. The world began to lose focus around the edges until he could only see her, and he knew he was close. Scully screamed his name over and over again as explosions of sensation rocked her body. Mulder cried out in return as she threatened to crush him with her pulsing grip. He lost it, spilling out into her, clutching her ass as he jerked into her over and over again, crying her name in echo. They laid there side by side for a moment after he rolled off of her, catching their breath. Finally, she spoke in her primmest voice. "Sir, I think I'm going to have to bring you up on charges. You have grossly overstepped the bounds of professional behavior." The contrast between the image of her spread out nude beside him, smiling, and her voice set off waves of laughter in Mulder. "What, it wasn't professional enough for you? I just need practice, please, please, give me another chance." His mock-pleading tone set off giggles in Scully as she curled up beside him. "Well, I might put off calling my attorneys if you acquiesce to a few simple demands..." "Tell me, I'll do anything, I swear." She started laughing again. "*Anything*?" Mulder looked at her and suddenly reached over, putting his arms around her, kissing her deeply. Finally, he responded. "I love you, Dana. Anything." Her eyes widened, and she smiled. "Then put on your clothes so I can take you back to DC and have my way with you." He nodded in understanding as he got off the bed. "Oh, and Mulder?" "Umm?" "Next time, I'm on top." ************************************************************************************* Oh, I guess I should address a couple of things here. In my world, Mulder and Scully don't need a condom because in my world there are no STDs or other nasty consequences. Hell, in my world they actually have sex, so if I can pull *that* off, I ought to be able to eliminate some pesky diseases... Also, Mulder is not colorblind in this story. I finished part one before I read someone's comment about taking a stand on this red-green colorblind issue. Having thought about it, I think my stand is to consider it a moment of temporary insanity on CC's part. How could Mulder have a partner with hair that red and not be able to appreciate it? Like someone else said, it's a waste. Funny in a way, but still a waste. That's it! Hope you liked it. I know I had a blast writing it. All comments are welcomed at rain@isomedia.com