Alternatives 5: Afterglow 
By Shannon O'Connor (shannono@iname.com) 
and Brandon D. Ray (publius@avalon.net) 

FEEDBACK: Yah, you betcha. shannono@iname.com, publius@avalon.net 
SPOILER WARNING:  Set immediately (well, maybe an hour or two) 
after "Alternatives 4: Escape," with various small spoilers for 
episodes aired up through "Tithonius." (You could assume most of 
the events of "2F/1S" did happen in this universe, if you wanted 
to, but there are no spoilers herein.) 
RATING:  NC-17, of course. 
CONTENT WARNING: Smut. MSR. Some more sex. General sappiness. (Of 
course, if it weren't for sap, there would be no maple syrup, and 
the world would be a poorer place.) 
CLASSIFICATION:  SRA 
SUMMARY: Mulder and Scully enjoy the rest of their afternoon and 
evening at the hotel ... 

========== 

AUTHORS' NOTES: 

Shannon starts this time ... 

See, Brandon's ragging on me because I wanted this to get long 
enough to go on The Annex. I said when I posted my one novel that 
I'd probably never finish another one, and I wanted to get at 
least half-credit for one. So between my nagging and all the 
feedback still rolling in on the first four parts, he finally 
agreed, and we made it past 200K. Yay! 

Brandon? 

# 

I wish to state for the record that the, er, image from "Eleventh 
Hour" (mentioned below) was NOT my idea ... although I really, 
really like that scene from Rachel Anton's story.  Boy do I like 
that scene.  Mmmm.  Uh, and I also wish to add that I am NOT the 
member of this writing partnership who has a "chair" fetish ... 

("Hey, Brandon" ... "Yeah?" ... "Bite me.") 

# 

SPECIAL NOTE: The authors owe a GREAT debt of literary gratitude 
to Rachel Anton, as we have, er, "borrowed" an image from her 
wonderful story "Eleventh Hour." We'll never look at strawberries 
the same way again. ;) 

Oh ... and, as usual, no marriages or other long term relationships 
were harmed during the writing of this fic. ;) 

And now ...on with the show ... 

========== 
Alternatives 5: Afterglow 
  

I open my eyes to an expanse of bare skin, scattered with a light 
dusting of hair. The skin rises and falls evenly, in time with 
the sounds of Mulder's breathing. 

I'm so very tempted to let the gentle rhythm and the warmth of 
his nearness lull me back into sleep. But there are two things 
that stop me. The first is that sleeping isn't what I want to be 
doing when I'm curled up in bed with him. 

And the second is that I'm hungry. 

It's only natural, I suppose. We did work off quite a few 
calories about ... I twist my head far enough to glance at the 
clock on the bedside table ... nearly an hour ago. And sex has 
always made me hungry anyway. 

I nestle back into Mulder's chest with a soft sigh. This does 
feel so, so good, just to lie here with him, our bodies sated and 
soft, the real world closed away and forgotten for at least a 
while. 

We need this. We've needed this for years, and we've both been 
too stubborn and too scared to make it happen until now. I've 
never been much of a believer in fate, but I'm willing to believe 
that we've always been destined for each other. 

Nothing this perfect could be the result of sheer coincidence. 

But, perfect or no, nature remains nature, and I'm going to have 
to break our embrace. Because now I have GOT to go to the 
bathroom. 

Moving carefully, I slide away from Mulder and off the side of 
the bed. He shifts and turns toward the spot where I was, his arm 
sweeping across the mattress as if searching for something. I 
smile as I step in the direction of the door, looking for the 
overnight bags I know we brought in with us. 

Just as I find mine and pull open the zipper, I hear him speak. 
"Scully?" he says, his voice husky and deep with sleep. 

I glance over my shoulder as I rummage in the bag, searching for 
the robe I know I grabbed from my closet. "I'm here, Mulder," I 
say, turning my attention back to my search and finally getting 
my hand on the slick satin. 

I pull the robe from the bag and shake it out as I stand, then 
slip my arms into it and wrap it around me. The air has a slight 
chill to it, something I didn't feel or at least notice when I 
had Mulder's body heat for warmth. 

Mulder speaks again. "What're you doing?" he asks, sounding so 
much like a little boy that I can't help a grin. 

I turn back toward the bed to meet his half-lidded gaze and feel 
a rush of warmth skim over me. "I'm just going to the bathroom, 
Mulder," I say softly. "I'll be right back." 

He nods, then drops his head back to the pillow, letting 
a sigh escape. I smile again and head for the bathroom. 

#          #          # 

I think I must be having a dream.  I'm lying here in a huge 
four-poster bed, drowsily half awake, feeling totally content. 
Completely and totally content.  There's a warm spot in the bed 
next to me, and Scully's scent clings to the pillow. 

A dream.  It has to be a dream. 

I don't think I want to wake up. 

I burrow a little further into the bedclothes and pull the other 
pillow to my face, inhaling deeply.  Yes.  Yes, it's Scully. 
Scully and lemons and sex, a combination of smells I've only been 
able to imagine in the past, but now here it is.  Maybe this isn't 
a dream after all.  Maybe.  Just maybe. 

"Mulder?" 

Her voice.  No, it's not a dream.  It's real.  She's real.  I feel 
my pulse increase and I take the pillow from my face and say, 
"Yeah, Scully?" 

"Mulder, will you order us something to eat?  I'm starving." 

I smile at that.  So Scully gets hungry after sex.  Another 
intimate little detail to file away -- along with the sound she 
makes when I kiss her neck, the salty flavor of her skin under my 
lips, the pungent scent of her arousal ... so many things I didn't 
know.  So many things I still have to learn.  And god willing I'll 
get to spend a lifetime learning them. 

"Mulder?" 

But right now my Scully needs to be fed.  I smile and call out to 
reassure her, even as my hand is reaching for the phone. 

#         #         # 

I can hear Mulder talking in a low voice as I wash my hands, my 
eyes focused on my own reflection. My skin is still rosy with 
afterglow, my hair a little mussed, my lips plump and slightly 
purpled from our kisses, the royal blue of the robe enlivening 
the color of my eyes. 

I give an enigmatic smile as I flip the water off, and my eyes 
begin to wander across the reflection of the huge bathroom as I 
dry my hands. I can't remember the last time I stayed in a place 
this nice, and I have every intention of taking advantage of 
every single amenity it offers. Including that wonderful whirlpool 
tub, so obviously built for two. 

I'm smiling again when I walk out of the bathroom, just in time 
for Mulder to hang up the phone and glance in my direction. His 
eyes light up when he spies me, then darken as they take in my 
appearance. 

I give him the once-over myself. His hair is still too short to 
be all that tousled, but his skin is just as flushed as mine -- 
and there's plenty of it for me to take in, as he's covered only 
by his own arm. 

At this point, it occurs to me that we never even made it under 
the covers earlier, and the thought sends a rush of laughter 
bubbling up inside me. Mulder shoots me a quizzical look, and it 
takes me a few seconds to fight off the giggles enough to tell 
him what's so funny. He gets it immediately, and lets out a few 
chuckles himself. 

Still smiling, he slides off the mattress and wrestles the covers 
loose, folding them back neatly. Then he slides back onto the 
white sheet and holds out his hand to me. 

I don't hesitate, but I do take my time, sauntering toward the 
bed with my right eyebrow arched high and a tiny smile playing 
deliberately along my lips. I can see his breathing speed up as I 
move, my hands moving to my waist to tug at the belt of the robe. 
The satin parts and slides across my body, uncovering an expanse 
of bare skin just as I reach the bed and stop with my legs 
brushing the edge of the mattress. 

Mulder moves toward me, his legs coming down on either side of 
mine, his hands slipping under the satin and cupping my waist. I 
place my hands on his thighs, kneading gently, and we simply stay 
that way for a few long moments, looking into each other's eyes, 
memorizing everything we see there. 

I inhale deeply as Mulder's hands begin to move, inching upward 
along my ribcage to cup my breasts, still covered by the robe. 
His face moves toward mine, and he brushes his nose against mine, 
once, twice, then again. 

My mouth opens on a sigh, and he takes full advantage, bringing 
our lips together and slipping his tongue into my mouth, just as 
his thumbs come up to brush across my nipples. 

I moan into the kiss, moving my hands higher along his legs, 
still squeezing and rubbing gently. I feel Mulder's hand move 
away from my right breast, creeping down my side and around to 
my back, then pulling me fully against him, his rapidly-growing 
erection pressing against my belly. 

His hand is on my ass now, rubbing my body against his, and I 
return the favor gladly, my hand gliding around to cup and 
caress his left buttock. He groans loudly as I give a 
particularly firm squeeze, and I file that little tidbit of 
knowledge away for later use. 

Our mouths are in constant motion against each other, tongues 
stroking and thrusting, and our hands continue to touch and 
stroke. Mulder gets his other hand wrapped around my neck and 
begins falling slowly back toward the mattress, pulling me on 
top of him. 

His penis is caught between us, and he bucks involuntarily 
against me as I rub my body over him. I lift myself up on my knees 
just a few inches, bracing myself with one arm, giving me just 
enough room to work the other hand in and grip him, stroking 
slowly. 

His hands aren't idle, one returning to my breast as the other, 
still under the robe, moves over my ass and down between my 
spread legs, dipping into the wetness he's created there. His 
long, now slick, fingers continue further up, landing on my clit 
and circling lightly. 

We move together for what seems like an eternity, our passion 
building, with my core hovering no more than two inches above his 
cock. And I'm about three seconds from covering the distance ... 
when, of course, a knock comes at the door. 

"Room service!" a voice calls from outside, and Mulder and I pull 
back and simply stare at each other for a good five seconds before 
we crack up entirely. 

#          #          # 

I said The Beaumont was a classy place, and this is just more 
proof of it:  I've just answered the door wearing nothing but a 
hastily-retrieved pair of blue jeans and no doubt smelling 
strongly of sex, but the room service waiter -- dressed to the 
nines in dark suit, snow-white dress shirt and conservative dark 
tie -- doesn't even bat an eye.  He simply pushes the cart into 
the sitting room and positions it next to the tea table, presents 
the check for my signature, thanks me gravely for the tip I give 
him, and leaves.  No smirk, no comment, not even the slightest 
hint of anything amiss or anything out of the ordinary. 

Like I said:  This is a classy place. 

As soon as the door is closed again I shuck off my jeans and step 
over to the table to survey the feast:  Coldcuts, a large tray of 
assorted fruits and cheeses and a steaming pot of melted 
chocolate. And yes, under that cover is the piece de resistance: 
a chocolate-covered cheesecake with cherry sauce. 

As I replace the cover over the cheesecake I hear a small noise 
behind me and I turn to see Scully standing in the doorway to the 
bedroom. She's once again wearing that wonderful blue satin robe, 
and she has a slight smirk on her face.  For just a moment I'm 
puzzled, but then I notice that her eyes are focused on my semi- 
erect cock, and that simple realization is enough to make it 
begin to harden further. 

I glance down at myself briefly and then back up at her, and I 
gesture at the room service cart and smile and say, "Madame, 
luncheon is served."  I step over next to her and add, "Allow me 
to take your wrap; the dress code here is very strict."  And 
Scully giggles, but she allows me to take her robe from her, 
which leaves us both completely nude, and then I place my hand on 
the small of her back and usher her over to the table. 

#          #          # 

This is a little surreal. Mulder and I are in our normal positions 
as we walk, him a half-step behind and with his hand in its 
customary spot on my back. Only this time, we're missing some of 
the customary accouterments. Namely, our clothes. 

Mulder does seat me, just as graciously as if we were fully 
dressed and in an upscale restaurant. He pulls the other chair 
over until the edges are touching, and then we start in on the 
food. 

If I thought having Mulder feed me breakfast was fun -- not 
mention sensual -- then this is pure decadence. We take turns 
with the food, ignoring the neatly wrapped silverware and napkins 
in favor of fingers for feeding and tongues for any needed 
cleanup. 

Rolled slices of turkey and ham and roast beef are offered up for 
bites, followed by cubes of cheese, with chilled wine to wash it 
all down. Pieces of fruit are added to the mix, some dipped in 
melted chocolate, with a few "accidental" drops allowed to fall 
on strategic patches of skin. 

Mulder finishes licking one of those little spills off my left 
breast and raises his eyes to my face with a little grin playing 
along his lips. I know that smile. He's got something up his 
sleeve. Well, he would, if he was wearing anything ... 

"You know, Scully," he says, almost casually, as he reaches back 
toward the fruit tray. "I've always just *loved* strawberries." 
He picks up a nice-sized one and turns back toward me, rolling 
the fruit gently between his fingers. "And you know they're even 
better with sauce." 

I expect him to dip the strawberry into the rapidly-diminshing 
bowl of chocolate, but he just keeps rolling the berry and 
grinning. I raise my eyebrows expectantly, and before I even 
realize what he's doing, his free hand dips between my legs, 
fingers probing into the wetness there. 

I gasp and jerk at the sudden stimulation, but he pulls away and 
brings his fingers back up, his eyes never leaving mine. He wraps 
those fingers around the berry, spreading my juices over it, and 
then pops the fruit into his mouth. He closes his eyes and gives 
a low moan as his tongue and teeth work on the berry, and I can't 
help an answering moan. 

He swallows, and his eyes open lazily, taking in my reaction. I 
know what he sees: My skin is flushed, my eyes wide and dark, my 
breathing ragged. He knew *exactly* what that little display would 
do to me, and now he's enjoying the results. 

His voice is deep and sensual when he speaks. "I think that's my 
new favorite snack," he murmurs. 

My restraint gives way, and I grab for his face with both hands, 
pulling that mouth to mine. My tongue darts inside, sampling the 
sweet, dark aftertaste of strawberry and me, mixed with Mulder's 
own essence. 

When the kiss ends some time later, Mulder has pulled me sideways 
into his lap, the tip of his renewed erection brushing along the 
bottom edge of my ribs. His mouth travels down my neck to the 
hollow at the base of my throat, and my hands wrap into his hair 
to hold him there. 

Shakily, I ask, "Do I even want to ask where that idea came from?" 

He chuckles against my skin. "Something I read once," he admits. 
"Although that version took a more ... direct approach ..." His 
voice trails off, and I'm flooded with the image of Mulder's face 
between my legs, eating both me and a strawberry at the same time. 

Oh, God ... 

I pull up on Mulder's head, drawing his lips to mine again, and 
dive back in. We're both letting out moans and half-grunts and 
other little noises around the kiss, and I'm just about to move 
around to straddle him when he pulls back. 

#          #          # 

I think I got to her with the strawberry.  I know I got to ME. 

I don't actually remember where I read about that -- I think it 
was on the net somewhere, maybe in alt.sex.stories, but I really 
don't recall.  In any case, I've been intrigued by the idea for a 
long time, but I had no idea just how arousing it would turn out 
to be to eat a strawberry coated in Scullyjuices, while the lady 
herself was sitting next to me, stark naked and obviously aroused 
herself. 

I also had some plans for that cheesecake, but I think maybe 
they're gonna have to wait, because Scully is now sitting on my 
lap and covering my face with kisses and running her hands up and 
down my chest and shoulders.  I do think we have time for another 
strawberry, though, and so I reach around her and grab one off 
the tray and submit it to the same treatment as the first one, 
never taking my eyes from Scully's as I do so.  Then I bring the 
strawberry to my mouth and capture it between my teeth and then I 
simply sit there, waiting. 

I don't have to wait for long.  An intensely erotic smile spreads 
across Scully's face as she leans forward and wraps her lips 
around the other half of the strawberry.  I bite down on it, and 
the juices -- both the berry's and Scully's -- squirt into both 
our mouths. 

God this tastes good, and the flavor is going directly down my 
spine to my cock.  Scully seems to like it too, and her tongue 
darts into my mouth to scoop up her share of the pulp, and for a 
moment we trade that poor abused bit of fruit back and forth 
until finally it's gone. 

We deepen the kiss, and this time when Scully squirms around on 
my lap to straddle me I allow it to happen.  My cock is trapped 
between my abdomen and her crotch, which all in all is not a 
hopelessly bad place for it to be.  I shift my hips slightly and 
rub it against her and we both moan, and then Scully rotates HER 
pelvis and returns the favor. Her hands are tangling in my hair, 
her tongue plunging deep into my mouth, and the taste of 
strawberry and Scully mingling together, combined with the 
renewed scent of our mutual arousal, is almost enough to send me 
over the edge all by itself. 

Then Scully rises up on her knees just a little and she reaches 
down with one hand and grabs my cock and suddenly I'm deep inside 
her.  I'm actually more than a little amazed -- not to mention 
gratified -- at my own stamina and recuperative power, but it's 
got to be because of Scully.  It's the only explanation.  And then 
she begins to move her hips ... 

#          #           # 

If I had any extra brain power to worry about it, I'd be amazed 
at this point that I'm doing this. I have never, *never* been 
this uninhibited during sex. I've done a little experimentation, 
but nothing I've done before has ever had the same kind of effect 
as the things Mulder and I have done. 

I guess I'll have to chalk it up to the man in question. 

His cock is hard and slick inside me as I shift my hips, rotating 
gently around him. Our mouths come back together, dipping and 
tasting in little nips and sucks, and our hands are roving 
aimlessly over all the sweat-dampened skin we can reach. 

I can feel myself building toward another climax, amazingly, but 
some little part of my mind manages to break forth from its haze 
of desire and throw up some statistics. At which point I realize 
that if we finish this off here, chances are it'll be QUITE some 
time before Mulder's up for another round. 

Although I CERTAINLY know better than to couch it in just those 
terms ... 

I stop moving against him, drawing moans from both of us, and 
pull back to focus on his face. He's panting lightly and staring 
at me, confusion written in his expression. 

I smile softly and lean forward to drop a tiny kiss on his mouth. 
My lips still touching his, I murmur, "I think I'd rather do this 
back on the bed ... but first, I think a nice, long soak in that 
whirlpool tub would be in order ..." 

He still looks a little confused, and distracted -- which is 
understandable, given that I'm still impaled on him. So I 
carefully lift myself off his cock and settle back on his knees, 
then dip my head forward for another quick kiss. 

I stand up, a little shakily, and hold out my hand, which he 
takes without hesitation. I smile slowly and say, sweetly: "Would 
you like me to draw you a bath?" 

#          #          # 

For just a moment my insecurities want to persuade me that she 
was pulling back, but really I know better.  And now ... would I 
like to take a bath with Dana Scully?  Why yes, thank you, I 
would. 

In a matter of moments Scully has filled the whirlpool, and now 
the two of us are stepping into it.  And god was this a good 
idea.  The hot, bubbling water feels so good as I lower myself 
into it, and in another moment it feels even better as Scully 
settles down onto my lap. 

Yeah.  This is good.  This is happy.  This is content.  When I 
woke up in that big four-poster bed a little while ago I thought 
THAT was content, but I obviously hadn't done enough research. 
THIS is content.  Content is sitting in a big tub of hot water 
while Dana Scully cuddles on your lap and rests her head on your 
shoulder. Content is knowing that you've made love to Dana Scully 
twice this afternoon, and that you're going to do it a third time 
just as soon as both of you feel like it. 

THAT is content. 

I look down at Scully's face, and I see that her eyes are closed 
and she's breathing slowly and evenly. For a moment I think maybe 
she's fallen asleep, but then her eyelids flutter open and she 
sees me looking at her and she gives me the warmest, sweetest 
smile I have ever seen on her face.  I mean, until ten days ago I 
didn't even know that Scully DID sweet.  But I guess that's just 
a side of herself she saves for intimate and private moments with 
people she loves. 

Moments like this one. 

I bend down and press my lips against hers, and for just a moment 
we share a soft, chaste kiss.  But then her lips open slightly, 
and she runs the tip of her tongue lightly along my bottom lip, 
and of course I cannot deny her admittance.  And so the kiss 
deepens, and Scully turns slightly in my arms seeking better 
access to my mouth. 

Okay, maybe I was wrong again.  Maybe the gentle cuddling of a 
moment ago WASN'T content.  Maybe content is when Dana Scully is 
exploring my mouth with her tongue, while one of her hands 
tightly grips the back of my neck and the other caresses my 
chest.  Having one of MY hands stroking her bare right hip while 
the fingertips of the other hand lightly trace the outline of her 
spine is probably also part of the formula. 

Finally our lips break apart, and Scully pulls her head back just 
a little ways to look up at me -- and suddenly I'm simply 
overcome by emotion and by the enormity of it all. 

Dana Scully loves me.  She really, really loves me.  It's written 
all over her face and in her eyes, and I just can't get enough of 
looking at her look at me.  And I wonder how in the hell I 
managed to miss noticing this look for all those years.  How 
could ANYONE not notice that Dana Scully was harboring those 
sorts of feelings? 

I guess I'll just have to do my damnedest to make up for all 
those wasted years.  And I think I'll start by kissing her again. 

#          #         # 

I've always loved baths. I have that wonderful old clawfoot tub 
in my apartment, and I make every effort to take advantage of it 
a couple of times a week, whenever possible. I keep a whole array 
of bath salts and foam and oils, picking and choosing what I want 
when the time comes. 

But I've just realized all those baths have been missing the most 
important ingredient. 

Mulder. 

I make a quick vow NEVER to take another bath that doesn't 
include him -- one I know I won't keep, but hey, it's the thought 
that counts -- as he leans over to kiss me again. My hand starts 
scooping up water and pouring it down over his skin in an effort 
to give the bath some purpose. Other than foreplay, that is. 

His hands are skimming over my skin now, one still wandering over 
my back while the other comes around to cup my left breast. His 
tongue is soft and warm in my mouth, slow and tender rather than 
hard and frantic, and I find I like it just as much as the 
frenzy of earlier. I guess now that we've gotten the official 
"consummation" out of the way, we're a little more open to taking 
things slow this time around. 

And so I match his pace, moving my hands and tongue at a snail's 
pace so that our arousal builds just as gradually. I want this 
to last a long, long time ... 

#           #          # 

You know, someone should have told me about this a long time ago. 

I don't mean someone should have told me about Scully -- it was 
my job to figure her out, and I even had all the pieces right 
there and front of me and managed to miss it for years and years. 
Some trained investigator *I* am.  No, I mean someone should have 
told me about this ... this ... 

I don't even know the word for it.  It never even occurred to me 
that it was possible, so I guess it's understandable that I 
wouldn't know a word for it.  But I'm sitting here in this hot 
tub with Dana Scully on my lap, and we're quietly kissing and 
touching and cuddling.  Not necessarily taking it anywhere in 
particular, and certainly not in any hurry to get there.  Just 
kissing and touching and cuddling.  It's so intense and intimate 
it almost makes me want to cry. 

It's never been like this for me.  Never.  None of the other women 
I've known have ever been able to offer me anything like this, 
nor even anything close to it.  Not Diana, and certainly not 
Phoebe.  Just Scully.  Only Scully. 

Her hand continues to glide across my chest, touching and 
caressing, stopping to playing with my sparse chest hair or brush 
across a nipple, never quite coming to rest.  The fingers of her 
other hand are tangled in my hair, holding my head in place as 
her mouth browses across my face and neck.  I'm just completely 
passive for the moment, accepting her gift, with one hand still 
gently cupping her breast and the other wrapped loosely around 
her upper torso.  Her soft, round bottom is resting on my lap, 
and my erection is cradled comfortably between us. 

Her teeth capture my earlobe and she nips lightly, causing a 
shudder to race through my body.  Scully gives a low, throaty 
chuckle and murmurs, "You like that, Agent Mulder?"  And then she 
does it again, and again my body reacts, and this time Scully 
shivers slightly, too, and cuddles a little closer on my lap. 

Scully continues to lick and nibble at my ear and neck and 
shoulder, and now my thumb is lightly stroking her nipple.  Her 
beautiful, beautiful nipple.  I'm suddenly fascinated by the 
contrast between the hard nubbin of her nipple and the softness 
of the rest of her breast, and so I run my thumb repeatedly 
across the boundary between the two, reveling in the feel of it 
and causing her to shiver repeatedly even as her lips and tongue 
continue to explore my neck. 

In every other relationship I've ever been in, this would be the 
point where we would adjourn to the bedroom and proceed to fuck 
each other's brains out.  But not with Scully.  I'm so totally 
and completely comfortable with this woman that I feel no 
pressure at all to perform -- and more important, I don't feel 
the usual apprehension at being this close and intimate with her. 

And that's such a profound thing:  To be with a woman and not be 
afraid of her.  It's such an epiphany, and I have to share it 
with her, I have to let her know just how special this moment has 
become. And so I lift my hand from her breast and gently cup her 
chin and tilt her face up towards mine.  I want her to see this 
in my eyes, not just hear it from my lips.  And she looks up at 
me questioningly for a moment, and I realize there are unshed 
tears in my eyes, and I shake my head and smile, and I whisper, 
"I'm not afraid of you." 

#          #          # 

I'm puzzled for only a moment at his words, and then his meaning 
hits me full-force, and I'm struck with the most intense wave of 
love and adoration I've ever felt in my life. 

This is it. Those words have ripped aside the last walls between 
us, leaving nothing but the warm, all-encompassing reality that 
this is *real*. 

I know exactly what his words mean, exactly how he intended him. 
All his life, all he's known of love is its end. All he's learned 
from his relationships with women -- Diana and Phoebe, at least, 
and I'm sure there were others -- is that, eventually, they'll 
leave him, most likely in the cruelest way possible. 

I'm sure he had the same fear about me for a long time. God knows 
I would in his position. But now, he believes. He's broken 
through his own doubt and insecurity and accepted that I'm here, 
and I'm not going anywhere. 

Ever. 

I see the wetness in his eyes, and I can feel my own eyes filling 
as I lean forward, pressing my forehead against his. "You have 
nothing to be afraid of," I whisper intensely. "I would never 
leave you, not in a million years. I couldn't if I tried. I need 
you just as much as you need me." 

He pulls back just far enough to lock our gazes, his hands 
coming up to cradle my face. "I know," he whispers back, his 
voice choked with emotion. "I've always wanted to believe it ... 
and now I *know*." 

I let my tears fall freely down my face. I have no reason left to 
hide them from him. 

He slides his thumbs up to brush the droplets from my cheeks, 
then dips his head to catch the last few with his mouth. My eyes 
flutter shut as he continues to rain tiny kisses over my face, 
brushing across my cheeks, my eyelids, my forehead, all so lightly 
I can barely feel them. 

He backs away, and says, "Scully." So gentle, so tender, as if 
my name were the most precious glass. 

I raise my eyelids to meet his gaze, reading there his every 
emotion. And he says, just as tenderly, "I want to make love to 
you." 

And there is only one answer I could ever give him. 

"Yes ..." 

#          #          # 

"Yes ..." 

She said yes.  At this point that really isn't a big surprise, 
but ... 

She said yes. 

For a moment longer we cuddle together in the hot tub; then Scully 
rises to her feet and turns to face me, holding out her hand.  I 
take her hand and I stand up, too, and once I'm on my feet and 
facing her she smiles and reaches out with her free hand and 
lightly caresses my cock for just a moment, sending a shiver of 
anticipation up and down my spine.  And then we both climb out of 
the tub, and hand in hand, still dripping wet, we walk together 
to the bedroom. 

No words now.  We've never needed many words in our partnership, 
and now we seem to need none at all.  Without ever letting go of 
my hand, Scully pulls back the covers and slips into bed, and I 
slide right in after her, pulling the blankets back up over us. 
And then we lie on our sides facing one another, still holding 
hands, and Scully scoots over until our bodies are barely 
touching, and we lean together and share a soft, erotic kiss. 

Our lips separate after only a few seconds, only to meet again, 
and this time the kiss is deeper, and our tongues meet and slide 
across each other with slow deliberation.  This is not like our 
first time, earlier this afternoon; there is no frenzied 
desperation, no frantic neediness.  This time there is only 
gentle devotion as we prepare to worship each other's bodies. 

At last I free my hand from hers and reach out and trail my 
fingers across her hip.  Her skin is warm and soft, and still 
damp from the bath, and I can feel goosebumps forming as I 
lightly touch and caress her.  And then I slide my arm around her 
waist and gently draw her to me, until there is no space between 
our bodies at all, and Scully sighs and buries her face against 
my shoulder and inhales deeply. 

#          #          # 

Oh God ... I can smell him. And I mean *him* -- pure, unfiltered, 
undiluted Mulderscent, straight from his freshly cleaned skin 
and into my lungs. No soaps, no deodorants, no colognes; just 
*him*. 

I want to breathe this scent every day for the rest of my life. 

And I want to taste him. 

My tongue comes out to run gently over his clavicle, tracing the 
bone from the top of his arm to the curve of his neck. I catch a 
few remaining droplets of water as I move, and I swallow them 
eagerly, as if drinking in his very essence. 

His sigh ruffles my wet hair against my forehead, and his hands 
continue their gentle movements, caressing my back and hips and 
upper thighs. My mouth continues on its slow trek, bridging the 
hollow of his throat with a kiss and then continuing along to the 
other shoulder. 

My hands have joined my exploration, my fingertips drifting in 
tiny whorls across his chest, giving equal attention to every 
square inch. He shivers when I brush his nipples, but I don't 
linger there. I want to feel all of him. 

His hands are roving farther now, stroking up lightly to my 
shoulders, then down to the curve of my ass. One diverges on an 
upstroke to dance down the back of my arm, while the other 
follows the curve of my hip around to my abdomen, pressing there 
gently. 

"Scully ..." My name is a breath on his lips, and I murmur his in 
response, my mouth wet against his left bicep. 

We keep up our infinitely slow exploration for what seems like 
hours, as if determined to memorize every detail of each other's 
body. Hands and mouths run across arms and legs and backs and 
faces until our arousal can no longer be ignored. 

Our skin is flushed and our breathing ragged when I rise above 
him, and he slips inside me as if he's always been there. 

And it feels as if he has. 

#          #          # 

Oh god.  I'm inside Scully again.  I'm inside Scully.  She's 
straddling my hips, a dreamy, other worldly expression on her 
face, and now she's leaning down over me and lightly brushing her 
lips across mine, and it's like an electric circuit has been 
completed, causing my hips to jerk up against her, and we both 
moan. 

Scully apparently takes that as a signal to begin moving, because 
she starts rotating her hips, slowly and sensuously, and oh GOD 
does it feel good.  My hands move to her hips, not trying to 
control her motions, but simply because I have to touch her, I 
have to hold her. She's trailing her fingers across my abdomen as 
she continues to work, her gaze is locked onto mine, and the 
expression on her face -- Jesus.  I almost feel as if I could 
come just from looking at the expression on her face. 

I begin to move my own hips in unison with hers -- not thrusting, 
not trying to increase the pace, but simply joining in with her 
rhythm, reinforcing and feeding it back to her.  And I must be 
doing something right, because her lips separate slightly and her 
eyes slide shut for a moment -- but just for a moment, and then 
she seems to force them open again, apparently needing the 
continuing eye contact as much as I do. 

God, I love this woman. 

The scent of our mutual arousal is everywhere, and our pleasure 
noises fill the room, and all I can see is Scully and the 
beautiful, carnal expression on her face.  And her eyes ... I 
could just lose myself in her eyes.  They're so intense, and so 
very, very blue.  A deeper blue than I've ever seen them, like 
deep, still water.  I feel an almost physical connection to her 
eyes, and that just feeds back on my longing and desire for her. 

God, she's beautiful.  So very, very beautiful. 

Scully begins to quicken the pace, and I go along with her, and 
the wonder of it all is that we're still just enjoying this, 
still just enjoying each other.  There's no sense of urgency, no 
demand for orgasm; just the simple pleasure of being coupled 
together in this most intimate of ways. 

Scully leans down to capture my lips again, and I slide my hands 
up her flanks and around to her back, holding her to me.  Our 
hips continue to move together as we kiss, varying the tempo in 
silent rapport, almost as if we were a single organism.  I feel 
as if we could go on like this indefinitely, eternally hovering 
on the brink, and never need or want to have anything else ... 

#          #          # 

I wish -- almost -- that we could stay like this all the time, in 
this wonderful, pleasurable haze of love and comfort and arousal. 
I feel fully cocooned in Mulder from head to toe, and I don't 
want to give it up. Not now; not ever. 

But our bodies have other ideas, and although we've been 
incredibly slow and gentle to this point, we are gradually 
escalating our movements and intensity. Our hip movements come 
faster and harder in tiny increments, our kiss deepening at the 
same slow pace. 

Finally, after what seems like years, we pass the point of full 
control. I draw my lips away from Mulder's and lean back, 
propping one hand on his thigh to allow me better leverage as his 
thrusts deepen. This angle opens me further to him, and I can 
feel the tip of his cock bumping my cervix with every pump of his 
hips. 

His hands are running up and down my sides, squeezing and 
kneading the flesh along my hips. I bring my free hand down to 
grasp his, intertwining our fingers, and he begins to squeeze 
my hand in rhythm with our movements. 

I let out a moan before I even realize it, and Mulder answers it 
immediately, almost as if he was waiting for me to go first. I 
grin swiftly at the thought, my eyes darting back to meet his, 
and he returns my smile automatically, without even knowing the 
reason for it. 

I think I've mentioned before what his smile does to me, and 
this is just so much ... *more*. I'm close, so close to the edge, 
and that wide, sexy smile of his is almost enough to take me 
right into oblivion. 

Almost, but not quite. And he knows it, because his free hand 
is already sliding across my lower abdomen, honing in on its 
target. I'm still smiling, but when his thumb flicks across my 
clit, the smile dissolves as my eyes close involuntarily, and I 
moan again. 

His hips are practically bouncing on the mattress now as he 
drives into me, lifting my knees from the bed with each thrust. 
I would have lost my balance by now, if it weren't for the firm 
grip he still has on my hand, holding me steady. 

"Scully ..." his voice calls. "Look at me." 

I pry my eyelids up to reveal a somewhat fuzzy but still 
beautiful sight. Mulder's skin is flushed and dotted with beads 
of sweat, but his eyes are focused on my face, reading my 
reactions and waiting for that moment when I reach my peak. He 
doesn't have long to wait. 

A low, guttural sound escapes me as my orgasm builds, as slow 
and intense as our lovemaking has been. My hand automatically 
clenches his tight, and I can hear him offering soft words of 
love and desire through the fog. 

And before the contractions have faded, he's pulled me down tight 
against his chest with both hands and is thrusting raggedly 
against me. It only takes a few moments before his hips jerk and 
shudder, and then he groans loudly. I feel his release nearly as 
strongly as I did my own, so attuned to him that his pleasure has 
become mine. 

Our recovery is nearly as long as our lovemaking, and we simply 
lie there together, breathing hard, his now-limp cock still 
inside me. Neither of us moves for a long time, my hands lying 
motionless on his chest, his still spread across my back. 

When I finally move, I feel lethargic, as if my limbs have been 
weighted. I manage to lift my head a few inches, enough to press 
a single soft, lingering kiss on the underside of Mulder's chin. 

He makes a tiny, contented sound and pulls me even tighter 
against him, and I smile. 

This is where we belong. 

#    FINITO, baby!   # 
  

MORE AUTHORS' NOTES (yeah, we just can't shut up ...): 

And now, we regret to inform our loyal readers that we will be 
taking a hiatus from the "Alternatives" universe. Yes, we know; 
this will be a great loss to the fanfiction community and the 
world as a whole. <g> But a combination of real-life commitments 
and the desire (heh) to work on some other projects means we've 
decided to take a short break. By "short" we mean probably at 
least a week and a half, and probably more like a few weeks ... 
so just think of this as the season-ending cliffhanger ... only 
we're MUCH nicer than CC, and are only going to make you wait a 
few weeks ... ;) 

Just so you know, the main reason for the break is that Shannon 
is about to go out of town on a business trip for a week and will 
be completely computer-less for that time. So please excuse her 
if she doesn't respond to feedback and such during that time ... 
and try not to blame Brandon for it. 

And no, we don't have laptops, although as we discussed on IM: 

BrandonXF: you should buy a laptop.... 
BrandonXF: *I* should buy a laptop.... 
snoconnor: I could BE a laptop ... no, I didn't say that ... ;) 

And as always, we thank you for your support. <g>