"Frustration" (1/2) MSR NC-17 Date: 1999/10/21 Frustration by Beduini (1/2) Catgory: A, MSR Rating: NC-17 for explicit sexual content and some colorful language. Spoilers: Just about everything that has happened so far to get them to this place. Direct references to events or characters in the Pilot, Fight the Future, Quagmire, Squeeze, The Host, Memento Mori, The Jersey Devil, Triangle, How the Ghosts Stole Christmas. Did I leave anything out? Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully are not mine. Chris Carter invented them, David and Gillian gave them life and they legally belong to Fox. Thank you all for sharing - I'm not making any money out of this and I intend no copyright infringement. Archive: Kimberly, as always. Anyone else? Please ask. Note: This is so old, it pre-dates my current hard drive. It's been heavily re-worked for the 'modern era.' I STILL have issues about "Why don't they?" and "What's stopping them?" - Other than, "Because Chris says so." I want answers, damn it! Thanks for Marty for the beta. I was going to dedicate this lurid little tale to Mr. Chris Carter. But then I thought...nah. He should write his own. Frustration by Beduini Unfortunately, it is almost a collective ideal for men and women to be as unconscious as possible in the ticklish affairs of love. But behind the mask of respectability and faithfulness the full fury of neglected love falls upon the children. You cannot blame the ordinary individual, as you cannot expect people to know the attitude they ought to adopt and how they are to solve their love problems within the framework of present-day ideals and conventions. Mostly they know only the negative measures of negligence, procrastination, suppression, and repression. -Carl Jung, "Analytical Psychology and Education" It had been one of THOSE days. It seemed that every time she turned a corner someone was coming from the opposite direction and they nearly collided. It was impossible to walk anywhere without having to stop behind someone or swerve to avoid walking into someone stopped in front of her. Every time she stepped into the elevator it was jammed with people, someone always brushing against her shoulder, or, if they were particularly tall, their shoulder bumped against her head. She could swear Agent Kislan from the bullpen had purposely cupped her ass a few times as well - all under the pretense of being in a crowded elevator. Of course, she couldn't prove it, so other than throwing a piercing glare she had to stand there and pretend it didn't happen. One of the hazards of proving herself an equal in the FBI boy's league. Sighing, she picked up a file from the desktop and the contents slid to the floor. Every thing she picked up that day she promptly dropped on the floor at least once. Dana Scully might have been the picture of cool but underneath she was seething. It was all she could do to keep from ranting at the top of her lungs in frustration. Her partner had been in her face all day, which in and of itself was no unusual event. It usually didn't bother her to be so near to him constantly. Truth be told, she rather depended on it - it was her one small luxury considering Mulder showed very little interest in her as a woman, unless violating her personal space served his purpose when telling one of his little jokes. Today, however, was entirely different. She was restless and frustrated, and try as she might, she couldn't will her mind over matter. He would stand a little too close when they spoke or lean over her with a file while she sat typing on her laptop, his close proximity constantly pressing against her. Even the air was pressing against her. It was hot and humid, much too hot and humid for October, and in the basement of the Hoover building it never felt like the air conditioning reached below 80 degrees. The only good it had going was that it was dark and underground. It was HIS idea that they work on their case notes together in his office today, she remembered grudgingly. Scully felt stifled, and today seemed to be the culmination of the increasingly restless feelings she'd been experiencing in the past few weeks. The tension between her and Mulder during this current investigation was tremendous. They held conflicting opinions and although it was not unusual for them to disagree in such a manner considering their long history together, it was unusual for her to avoid discussing her opinions with him. Scully knew that Mulder had picked up on her restlessness and hesitancy to openly discuss her theories about their most recent case. He had been covertly trying to crack her resolve all week. She knew all of his methods and this time he was purposely trying to get a reaction out of her with his constant invasion of her comfort zone. His background in psychology served him well but she'd be damned if she was going to let him get away with pulling his psychoanalytical crap on her today. He was persistent, however. In the middle of this Thursday afternoon in October Dana Scully had finally had enough. She took off her glasses, pushed back from her computer and fixed her cool gaze on him. "What are you doing?" She asked, issuing a silent challenge for him to keep doing it. He looked up, eyes owlish behind reading glasses, his face a mask of boyish innocence. "What do you mean?" "Look, Mulder, I won't have you engaging me in another battle of subterfuge and hidden context while you feign ignorance about your deliberate actions." He smirked with the success of his directive. "I don't know what you're talking about, Scully." She stared at him a moment, running her tongue along her upper molars. "You know, Mulder, you hide behind your laconic mask, but ever since you came in this morning your actions have been screaming for acknowledgement. Well, now you have my full attention. So let's have it." "You know Scully, you're cute when you're irritated." "Mulder!" He stood up, walked around his desk and stopped just in front of her. He put his hands in the pockets of his trousers, rocked back slightly on his heels and bit his lip contemplatively, all the while his eyes were on her, watching for any indication, any silent language that would give her away, giving him an opening. Seeing only controlled irritation, he decided to scrap the approach he'd been considering and come clean. "Alright." He said, crossing his arms defensively. "The last few days you've hardly spoken - about the case - or otherwise. My attempts to draw you into a conversation have continually fallen flat and, call me paranoid, but I think you've been avoiding me." She shifted, but her arms remained crossed and she continued to stare at him. Mulder stepped closer to her, his tone sarcastic. "Last time I checked, Scully, we were still partners. I thought that after all that we-" lest they go off on a tangent, he quickly changed threads - "I assumed that communication was always our strong point, but maybe I'm wrong." She stared past him, pressing her lips together as she considered his declaration. "Mulder, we've worked together for seven years and more often than not we've had conflicting opinions. All the while we've carried on this unspoken conversation wrought with..." she circled her hands in the air to illustrate her point, "...with innuendo and cryptic meanings that sometimes make sense, but more often than not don't mean anything to anyone but you." "What, you don't like my jokes?" He asked, deadpanning. She huffed impatiently. "For once I'd like to see you come completely above board. Lay it all out on the table in plain view, up front, from the beginning." His look was incredulous as he blinked at her. "Look, Mulder, to a certain degree we both enjoy debating the intuitive versus the scientific approach as it relates to our cases. Most of the time we work well together and I trust you implicitly without question. Beyond that, we're friends." "Yeah, so?" "So? So what, Mulder?" "So, what does that have to do with the fact that you think I'm dishonest?" "I didn't say you're dishonest, Mulder. I'm just asking you to tell me outright if you have something to say to me rather than hinting around and using body language to see if I can figure out what the Hell it is you're trying to say." They stared at each other a moment, then she dropped her eyes and turned away from him. "Forget it." "You brought it up, Scully, you tell me what it is you want me to say." She sighed. "Nothing. There's nothing to say. Forget I mentioned it." The truth be told, she had hoped he would follow her reasoning and he would answer with something more personal. Like why he was always in her face or asking her questions like 'is this turning you on?' Maybe not the breathtaking 'you made me a whole person' that he once confessed, but something close. Because this...whatever it was...between them had been there for the better part of the seven years they'd been partnered. Because of it she'd allowed him to do things like trick her out to investigate a haunted house on Christmas Eve of all nights, but they never overtly discussed it. IT. As in, what 'it' was between them that made them more than friends or work partners but less than romantic partners and less than lovers. Two categories of relationships that have produced very few results in the past seven years. Mulder blinked at her a moment, then walked back around his desk, gathering papers into a pile and shoving them into a briefcase. "Obviously, there's something bothering you. When you're ready to share, let me know." Scully hunched slightly and her hand came up to cover her eyes. She was tired and was suddenly regretting letting her emotions rule her head. Sighing in defeat she straightened, pushing the hair back off of her forehead in the process. "Look, Mulder, it's been a long day. We're both tired and I don't even know what we're talking about anymore." Despite the oppressing heat, the temperature felt like it had dropped twenty degrees. His voice was polite, controlled. "Fine. I'll see you tomorrow." He took off toward his car without looking back at her. She watched him until he disappeared around a corner, then sighed and headed back to her own office to pack up. When he reached his car Mulder paused at the driver's side door, put his hands on his hips and muttered, "Shit." He ran his fingers through his hair and clasped them behind his head. Bending back at the waist, he looked up at the ceiling and closed his eyes. "Shit shit shit shit shit!" Thirty minutes later Scully sat in her car in the parking garage, finally free from the constraints of other people, at least for the moment. She couldn't appreciate the freedom - her conversation with Mulder kept playing over and over in her mind. It had quickly gotten out of hand and it was her fault for bringing it up, or not bringing the entire subject out into the open, regardless of how much the prospect of rejection scared her. If the shoe had been on the other foot, how would she have responded? How could you assign words to such an important part of your life? Mulder had felt attacked, it was evident by the way he closed himself off to her at the end. Why did she bring it up? They had been dancing around the issue of physical intimacy, that is, THEIR physical intimacy, for so long, it was second nature for them to bury their emotions before they rose too close to the surface. And there was a myriad of emotions involved, of that she was certain. But that kiss that almost happened in his hallway when he told her she made him a whole person - it had been mutual, hadn't it? Despite Mulder's confession and the look she thought she saw in his eyes as his lips came toward hers she wasn't sure anymore, so many things had happened in such a short amount of time. Perhaps it was a moment of weakness, or maybe it was the emotional stress that caused them both to act out contrary to their usual behavior. Perhaps it was one last effort on Mulder's part to keep her from walking away and leaving him truly alone. Okay, she didn't really believe that. She used to be very astute about men and their intentions, but seven years with Mulder had turned everything upside down. Maybe she had merely imagined all of the things she thought he had done or said in the last seven years that made her think that he felt the same way about her as she felt about him. The truth was, she really didn't have a clue anymore. She was in a state of suspended animation where she and Mulder and their feelings about each other were concerned. An emotional netherworld, where nothing was declared and nothing was denied. One step forward, two steps back. Parallel lines, side by side, always travelling in the same direction, the distance between them growing incrementally smaller and smaller, but never to bisect. Scully leaned her head back against the car seat and closed her eyes. It was not the way she would have chosen to fall in love. They certainly were unusual in every sense of the word. What other people do instinctively Mulder and Scully discuss, dissect and debate. It was their modus operandi. It was entirely possible that their time, their window of opportunity had come and gone. Barring any alien intervention, government conspiracy or mutant flukeman, their private lives were decidedly separate. Any discussion of physical intimacy - say the word, Dana, SEX - at this point would probably only be a discussion about somebody else's sex life. Somebody involved in one of their cases, perhaps. That familiar nagging voice of insecurity that had lived inside of her head since she was a teenager managed to make itself heard at moments of weakness and it completed her train of thought. Sure, he cares about you. The same way Bill cares about you. Just like a little sister. That annoying thought brought her out of her contemplation. Realizing she had been sitting in the middle of the Bureau parking garage nearly half an hour, she shook her head to clear out the negative voice and willed herself not to slide into self-deprecating thoughts. Besides, she had errands to run. Throwing the car into gear, she pulled out of the parking structure and went on her way. Fox Mulder was considered the best profiler that the Bureau had seen in a very long time. He had a natural talent for getting inside the heads of criminals and figuring out what makes them tick. He had applied his talents towards people that he encountered outside of the criminal realm as well, but when it came to Dana Scully, he couldn't do it. Not that he SHOULDN'T do it or WOULDN'T do it, but he COULDN'T do it. Second-guessing her was next to impossible. Sitting on his sofa half shrouded in darkness, the light from his aquarium cast a soft shadow across the right side of his face. The room was quiet except for the sound of the aquarium filter. This was his preferred method for contemplation. He knew her well - as well as anybody. In some ways, probably better than she knew herself. In other ways, not at all. Her need to apply scientific and logical motives to his fantastic theories in any situation was a given. The way she became one Hell of a ballbreaker whenever she became passionate about an injustice was to be expected. And entertaining as Hell, when she wasn't focusing it on him. Her compassion and softness when she was dealing with children and comforting someone in pain was automatic. He'd been fortunate to enjoy that side of her himself many times. And yet, she could still completely catch him off guard. Like today - her behavior was baffling. Clearly she was uncomfortable with him on this last case. But there was something else...something he couldn't quite place. The tension was so heavy you could almost smell it. There had always been tension. Since the day they met, the air crackled around them with sexual energy. There was a moment during their first case when he almost acted on it - during a power outage when she had come to his room, frightened. She disrobed and stood before him in just her underwear, asking him to examine the red bumps she'd discovered on her lower back. She was so small but curved in all the right places and covered with this incredible alabaster skin that was so soft and he'd just stared at her for a moment, speechless. When he'd pulled his head out of his ass and determined that the bumps were nothing more than mosquito bites she'd thrown herself into his arms out of relief and the result was a shot of electricity that went straight to his groin. She smelled great, was so young and innocent and eager to please and it was so tempting to take advantage of her then, the darkness and candlelight and her trembling in his arms rousing the basest of instincts in him. He was - is, after all, merely a man. But too quickly she had regained her composure. Still, she ended up on his bed, covered in a blanket in the flickering candlelight listening intently while he sat on the floor recounting the horrors of his childhood and the abduction of his sister. That was how they first began to trust each other. Their first year together they slowly got to know each other, becoming accustomed to the patterns of their individual styles and learning to meet each other halfway, respecting the fact that they had differing viewpoints. She was a fine investigator and possessed an incredible mind that sometimes frightened but never ceased to amaze him. He had suspected that she was attracted to him the way a co-ed was attracted to a worldly professor early in their partnership, but he respected and admired her and their partnership too much to bring sex into the equation. Regardless of how much her brilliance and her round little ass turned him on. Well, there WAS an attempt at the beginning of the Jersey Devil investigation, when he'd asked her if she wanted to get a hotel room and spend the weekend with him in an Atlantic City... Merely a man. As the years progressed, their individual paths became one path and the obstacles thrown in their way had taken their toll, both emotionally and physically. The differences between them - controlling and yielding, logic and faith, pure and corrupt had melded together into one, each completing the other, making it impossible to determine where one of them started and the other ended. She was the only person in the world whom he truly trusted and respected unconditionally. She was as vital to him as air and water. Somewhere along the way, Dana Scully transformed. She was no longer the soft little tight-ass goody-two-shoes with a pony tail and idealistic trust in her science and in the system. She was a beautiful woman, thinner and harder, impeccably dressed and wearier for the journey. She'd seen more deformity and atrocity and injustice than anyone deserved to see in ten lifetimes. The loss of loved ones, a bout with cancer and the death of a child who was maybe her last chance at having a normal life had left their imprints on her emotionally as well. She had become more protective of her feelings, closely guarding her heart and more frequently preferring solitude over the shallow company of casual friends and acquaintances. There was a serene stillness in her as well. In the beginning she had sought a normal life with a stable husband and the possibility of kids, but slowly her options had been taken away from her, either by unknown forces or by choices she had made for herself along the way. She accepted the fact that her life had become their work and watching his back as much as his life was their work and watching out for her. She stopped looking up to him and became his other half. The ying to his yang. His equal, in every sense of the word. He was in love with her - there was no doubt. Exactly when he realized it isn't clear to him, but somehow his feelings of lust and friendship and trust turned into the deepest respect and finally the need to become one with her, mind, body and soul. He thought that it was only a matter of time before they scaled the last wall between them, their journey together surpassing the final boundary of intimacy, culminating in the most ancient of dances. It wouldn't happen in the spur of the moment - Dana Scully did not respond well to change, especially in her very orderly, controlled personal life. But he felt that they had been slowly growing towards something more tangibly substantial. He had just been waiting for her to let him know that she was ready. And then today she says that he gets on her nerves. That is essentially what she had said, isn't it? Well, she gets on HIS nerves sometimes. As he mentally replayed the incident, her last statement stuck in his mind. She wanted him to tell her something. Pondering the moment, he thought that it wasn't exactly her words so much as the expression that passed through her eyes and the sad lilt to her voice that gave her away. His photographic memory replayed the scene - she looked lost, almost afraid - a look she didn't wear well. The longer he thought about it, the more it didn't make any sense at all. She wanted him to tell her something. Everything out in the open. She was tired of trying to figure out his 'innuendo' and 'cryptic meanings.' Shit! He came to realize that in her own roundabout way, his partner had told him that she was ready. She had asked him to confirm his feelings, asking him if there was more to them than just friendship. He told her once how much she meant to him, that she made him a whole person, and they moved towards each other, lips nearly touching but denied by one little insect. The enormity of their situation upon their return from Antarctica overshadowed all else, but he assumed that he had made his feelings about her clear in that brief moment. She didn't know that he relived that moment every day because he'd never told her, wishing that they could have just melted into each other and none of the rest of it had ever happened. Well, except for seeing the spaceship. Too bad she didn't remember that part, either. Anyway, he had wanted to bring them back to that moment of tenderness, but his uncertainty kicked in before his logic and he could never find the right time to bring up the subject. He told her he loved her once since then, but he was on medication, which was the only reason he had the nerve to do it, and she didn't take him seriously. She wasn't ready, he'd thought. And here she had been the one to bring it up today, but he was so consumed with his own fear about why she had been pushing him away of late that he didn't pick up on it until it was indeed too late to act on it. He leaned back against the sofa, the darkness enveloping him. After all that they'd been through, she thinks I don't want her, he mused. Their situation was almost laughable if it wasn't so tragic. He knew he had to be completely honest with her. Without subtext or wisecracks. And he was going to have to go all the way back to the beginning. End Part (1/2) Bedu...@geocities.com http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Starship/9769/Main.html "Frustration" (2/2) MSR NC-17 Date: 1999/10/21 Frustration by Beduini (2/2) Disclaimer in Part 1 Opposites can be united only in the form of compromise, or irrationally, some new thing arising between them which, though different from both, yet has the power to take up their energies in equal measure as an expression of both and of neither. Such an expression cannot be contrived by reason, it can only be created through living. - Carl Jung, "Psychological Types" The traffic should have been light as it was well past the evening rush hour, but road construction had caused several long delays. Every stoplight she hit was red, and every stretch of road without stoplights on every block seemed to be packed with brake lights. As a result, her errands took much longer than they should have and she and her foul mood didn't reach her apartment until almost ten p.m. She walked up the front steps of her building, looking wistfully at the dark window of her unit. It had been nice, the few months that she had Queequeg. A little furry face waiting in the window as she walked up the steps, and the yapping and dancing that followed once she walked through the door. She'd felt safer then, not having to scan the apartment for signs of intruders as she'd grown accustomed to doing since the night early in her first year with Mulder when Eugene Tooms attacked her in her bathroom, trying to extract her liver with his bare hands. Poor Queequeg. The loss of her pet still hurt when she thought of it, but maybe some time she'd get another dog to keep her company. As she opened the main door to her building she could see his tall, unmistakable figure leaning against the wall near her apartment door. Her partner was still wearing his work clothes, although the tie had been untied and the top two buttons of his shirt were undone. Even after a long day in intense heat and a hint of five o'clock shadow masking his face he managed to look like something out of the pages of GQ. She was always aware of his looks but tonight instead of inspiring admiration it only made her more irritated. He looked up as she entered the hallway and in the dim light she could see his trademark puppy-dog expression. Given her previous train of thought there was an irony in there, somewhere, but she was too tired to dwell on it and instead let it pass as she focused on controlling the aggravation coursing through her veins that the sight of Mulder suddenly instilled in her. "You didn't answer your cel phone, Scully. I was getting worried something had happened to you." Walking toward him, she let out an involuntary sigh. "You have a key, Mulder. Why are you standing in the hallway?" It was more an admonishment than a question as she'd come home to find him waiting for her inside her apartment on more than one occasion. Good thing he wasn't tonight, though, because that would have really pissed her off. He didn't answer, but the look on his face told her that he had something on his mind. He probably had another lead that he had to investigate this very minute. He would convince her to go with him as always, keeping her out well into the middle of the night and probably ruin another good pair of her shoes. Damn it. Sighing again, she reached into her coat pocket and took out her keys. She kept her gaze on the ground beneath her feet, her mouth silently working as she gathered her thoughts. After a long silence she looked up at him expectantly - he looked edgy and the muscle in his jaw was twitching. She sighed for the third time and leaned in to unlock the door. But before she could get the key in the lock, the keys slipped from her fingers. Letting out a frustrated breath, she crouched down to pick them up just as he crouched down next to her to help, once again too close to her as their fingers grabbed the keys at the same instant and their foreheads cracked together. Touching a hand to her forehead and raising her face up to glare at him, she saw him staring at her intently. Snatching the keys from his fingers, she stood up and jabbed them into the lock. He stood and resumed his place against the wall - he even leans gorgeous, she thought with annoyance. "I've been thinking about what you said, Scully, about my inability to say what I mean-" Scully let the keys hang in the lock and closed her eyes. "I shouldn't have said anything, Mulder, let's just forget about it, alright?" She let out an impatient huff. "Look, I'm tired. It's been a rotten day, a particularly long week and it's only Thursday..." "But that IS what you think, isn't it?" A little sarcasm had crept in to his voice. Of course, he wouldn't be Mulder without it, would he? "Mulder..." she wore a look of impatience and started to fumble with the lock, her frustration quickly reaching its boiling point. "Scully..." Mulder reached over, his left hand tenderly covering hers on the doorknob. She raised her eyes to his, in the silence she could hear his breath coming in through his nostrils. Neither one broke their gaze, the tension between them swelling oppressively. She let out a breath in hope that some of the tension would leave with it. "Mulder..." He licked his lips, moving ahead before she could finish. "I have something that I need to tell you that might change your mind." Mulder's hand came up to her caress her cheek and slid into her hair, resting at the back of her neck. All of a sudden she could feel a humming inside of her, growing in volume, and she tensed. "What are you doing?" She asked nervously, stiffening. The last thing she needed right now was Mulder touching her. He kept his hand on the back of her neck, his forearm resting on her shoulder and his eyes holding hers intently. "Just hear me out, alright?" She sighed, closed her eyes and nodded, and he continued. "Do you remember the day we met, Scully? You came into the basement office and introduced yourself to me..." The hand that was covering hers on the door came up to cup the other side of her face, preventing her from moving farther away from him. She stilled, uncertain of his motives, but strangely okay with it. "Yeah, I remember." She replied, her mouth suddenly dry. "That was the first time we ever met...but it wasn't actually the first time we'd ever seen each other." Mulder brushed his thumb against her cheek, probably removing a stray eyelash. She didn't even want to think about how she looked at that particular moment as Mulder kept talking. "I was told that you were going to be assigned to the X-Files before you were. The day before we met I was at Quantico consulting with Mark O'Donnell. He'd asked me to come down and speak to a few of his students about profiling and the work we did in the BSU." As he spoke his hand lightly tangled in her hair just above her neck, rolling the silkiness against the pads of his fingers. He could feel some of the tension start to leave her shoulders and it strengthened his resolve to finish what he had started. "I took advantage of the invitation so that I could find out a little about the woman who I would be working with. I spoke with a few people, called in some favors and I got quite a lot of information, including a copy of your thesis. When I'd finished with O'Donnell I went by your office." His monotone voice was low and soothing, and she felt herself relaxing as he droned on. "I'd seen your picture in your file and I had every intention of speaking with you that afternoon. Then, as I was leaving the building, I saw you. About fifteen yards away, walking toward me. Tiny – sorry..." he smiled, "...PETITE - wearing a fitted blue skirt cut just above the knee and moderately high- heeled shoes that showed off the curves of your legs. It was warm that day - but not like today. You had this horrible plaid blazer slung over your arm and I could see the movement of your hips as you walked, your hair swaying with each step as you approached. And young...Jesus, you looked like you were about thirteen." Mulder paused, looking into her eyes. He desperately needed her acknowledgement, but forced himself to go on when she just stared back at him as if she were in a trance. "Before you reached the place I was standing, someone else stopped you and spoke to you. I couldn't hear your conversation. But you smiled." Mulder smiled at the memory. "God, you smiled that incredible full-faced smile that you so rarely use these days, Scully, then you walked right past me without even looking at me." His voice seemed to grow rougher, more intimate. "At the time I thought you were cute, not beautiful like you are now, but there was something else that drew me to you...an air about you that was intelligent and self-reliant. Do you know how sexy that is, Scully? I've seen your awareness when men notice you, but you really have no idea the extent of your power over us. Do you KNOW how beautiful you are?" She drew in a breath, still staring at him. Did Mulder just say what she thought he just said? She thought she was losing her ability to think rationally. If she could think rationally, this wouldn't all be so confusing. Mulder's steady drone and his petting weren't helping any. Rationality suggested that maybe her blood sugar had taken a dive. It had been a long time since lunch. She had to regroup, try to maintain her control. Drink some juice, maybe. But Mulder forged ahead. "I followed you back into the building and wasn't more than a few steps behind you when O'Donnell came out of his office looking for me. He said Blevins wanted to see me ASAP back at the headquarters. When I turned back around, you were gone." Looking into her eyes again, he finished his story. "As I drove back I thought about you. I was angry because I was convinced that they were sending you to distract me, an intelligent, attractive, young woman to gain my trust and gather the ammunition they needed to shut me down." He shrugged. "Then I met with Blevins and he told me to expect you the next day." Scully pulled back and looked into Mulder's face, taking in his serious expression. She didn't doubt him - her office at Quantico had been down the hall from O'Donnell...she used to walk by there every day. It was plausible. There was a long pause and she opened her mouth to speak, then stopped, considering everything he had just said to her. When she finally spoke, her voice was low and throaty. "They did want to use me to shut you down, Mulder." Mulder laughed nervously, looking up to the ceiling. "But you didn't let them." He looked directly into her eyes. "You didn't let me, either. I was egocentric, sarcastic, condescending, taunting - 'spooky' - I even tried to intimidate you with my size and masculinity by standing much too close to you. You didn't budge, not an inch, throwing your stubborn confidence right back at me. You knocked me right on my ass, Scully." She looked into his eyes and she was unguarded, totally trusting. "All this time, Mulder. You never told me. Why?" A look came into his eyes that was almost fierce in its intensity. Adversely, his voice grew softer. "I quickly realized that your moral standards were too high to do someone else's dirty work and I respected - I RESPECT you for it. But I didn't ever tell you that when I should have. Some days I was sure that you were on to me. Jokes and innuendo were the only things I had to protect myself with." When she replied, her voice was softer, too. "Protect yourself from what?" He looked down. "I don't know." He smiled with self-deprecation, then looked back at her. "Losing control of the situation. Losing your respect. Trying to have my way with you and getting slapped with a sexual harassment charge." He laughed once, nervously. "I can't explain it. But I meant every word that I said to you before Antarctica, Scully. You saved me." She drew a hasty breath and looked at him with openness and acceptance. 'It was YOU who saved ME, Mulder,' she wanted to say, but then he bent forward slowly and dragged his lips lightly along her cheek, barely touching them against her skin. He stopped just above her mouth and pulled back a little, whispering, "Tonight when I was thinking about our conversation earlier this afternoon I realized something. I told you once that you make me a whole person, and you took it literally. I didn't only mean your science, Scully. I meant it in every way. Mentally, spiritually..." He paused, looking at her. "...physically..." he felt her shudder and his voice dropped to a husky growl. "Does that surprise you? I've wanted you for a very long time, Scully." Scully blinked slowly, took in a deep breath and slightly tilted her head, first to the left, then to the right, trying to process everything that was happening between them. He'd actually done it. Mulder had said it out loud - laid it all out between them. He couldn't take it back and she couldn't ignore that it was there any longer, either. His words hung heavily in the air and all she could think about was that she desperately wanted to kiss him, wanted him in every way possible. And as she accepted her desire, her head began to clear. She stood perfectly still, drawing out the tension as their mouths delicately balanced millimeters away from touching, their warm breath mingling and playing over the other's in phantom kisses. Finally she leaned in and captured his lips with hers, a flicker of déjà vu causing him to hesitate, expecting the unexpected to come between them once again. There was nothing but her soft flesh and he returned her kiss firmly, her lips responding to his as he drew her closer. Her hands came up around his neck as mouths opened and tongues slowly began exploring, growing bolder and pressing harder until the lack of oxygen forced them apart, both seeking air. Scully began nipping at his neck and sucking on his Adam's apple, rubbing against him in a way that left him completely unnerved and in no doubt of what she wanted. His eyes flew open in shock. So much for slowly easing into this. Some part of Mulder's mind knew that they had to get to the other side of her apartment door while he still had full possession of his actions, before they gave Scully's neighbors the show of a lifetime. Glancing around the hallway in between kisses to see if anyone had caught the preview, he reached over, turned the keys that were hanging forgotten in the lock and pushed the door open, his arms around Scully gently guiding her inside. In the moment that it took him to shut the door behind them she had pressed into him, the force of her petite frame knocking him up against the door with a thud that resounded off of the inside walls of the dark apartment. So this was how it was going to be, he thought to himself before all higher thought left him. Her mouth covered his and she continued to press her lower body against his as her hands moved across his chest. She tore at the buttons and the tail of his shirt, all the while they kissed passionately, memorizing the taste, scent and feel of each other, adding new layers on top of all of the other layers that made the whole of their memories. His fingers worked at the buttons on her fitted jacket, his hands slipping under her thin blouse, caressing her taut abdomen. Her hands were inside his shirt on his chest, running up and down his pectoral muscles, his muscular back, over his shoulders and around his biceps. They caressed every inch of available skin, barely audible sounds emanating from the backs of their throats as their tongues dueled greedily for control, neither one allowing the break in contact so that the loosened garments hanging off of their limbs could slip to the floor. He tangled his fingers in the hair at the back of her head and placed the other hand in the small of her back, pulling her head back and crushing his mouth against hers as he nudged one knee between her thighs. He slid his knee up until it pressed firmly against the juncture of her legs and moved his hand on her lower back down to cup her buttocks. He pressed her hips down against his thigh as he continued to kiss her deeply and her legs began to give out beneath her as she broke contact with his mouth, gasping at the contact. He caught her, holding her upright as she reflexively rocked against his thigh, closing her eyes and moaning as she felt a rush of wetness at her core. In that moment of weakness, Mulder took advantage of his height and strength, gaining control over the situation. He flipped her around so that she was pressed back against the door, pushing her jacket and his shirt onto the ground before his hands began their renewed exploration of her upper torso. Scully reached for the waistband of his pants, working the buckle of his belt undone and sliding her fingers between the fabric and his skin. Mulder sucked in a breath of air as her fingers made contact with the skin of his abdomen and lightly brushed against his erection. He grabbed her wrists, placing them against the door on either side of her head. Moonlight shone through the open slats of her living room blinds, illuminating the room and their bodies with strips of light. Their eyes locked again, sharp and hungry while their chests heaved in the struggle for oxygen. There was no need for words - their eyes communicated everything while they breathed ragged breaths. They held each other's gaze, each waiting to find out if the other would move to the next step. In the moonlight Scully's blue eyes were dilated to near black with arousal. Her expression changed from one of hunger and possession to one of complete trust and submission, willingly giving up the last of her control. It was a look he'd never forget, his mind and body responding immediately to her incredible gift. Releasing her wrists he reached down and pulled the hem of her ribbed silk blouse up over her head. Then, he removed her bra and her hands fell to her sides, bracing against the door as he ran open-mouthed wet kisses across her neck, over her shoulders and down the middle of her chest to her breasts. His hands came up behind her shoulder blades and she arched her back as he laved his attentions over the freed mounds of flesh, nipping and sucking at the hardened nipples. She gave herself to sensation, biting her lip and her head rolled to the side, an undisciplined streak of red falling across her face. He continued his descent down her body, leaving her wet skin tingling in the night air. Slipping his hands inside the waistband of her trousers and crouching down, he pulled them down to her ankles. He lifted each foot, first removing her shoes and stockings and then the trousers, planting wet kisses up her calves, over her knees, around to the inside of her thighs and slowly ascending as his hands came up under the panties to knead the firm spheres of her derriere. She watched him through heavily lidded eyes as if she was drugged, and exhaled a breath, her head rolling to the other side as she licked her lips in anticipation of his ascent. Intently watching her face, he tucked his fingers under the elastic of her panties and placed a soft kiss over the thin triangle of satin, then slowly pulled down until the last garment lay at her feet. He sat back, taking in the entire vision before him. It was breathtaking. The look in his eyes told her what he wanted and he lifted one of her thighs, draping it over his shoulder. Her hands pressed flat against the door in anticipation until her fingertips grew white, an audible moan escaping her lips followed by his name. He'd fantasized about hearing her say his name that way as long as he'd known her. From deep inside of him a growl rose up in response and he plunged his tongue into her, hungrily tracing all of her folds and valleys while the stubble of his face burned the skin on the insides of her thighs. Scully cried out at the combined sensations. He was insistent in his technique and as she felt herself spinning towards release she spoke to him in between gasps, "You, Mulder. I want you." Mulder rose to his feet with an animal grace, hastily tearing off his remaining clothing, his erection bobbing between them in anticipation. With a sharp intake of breath Scully reached out a hand and stroked the length of him, causing him to throw his head back and suck in a gasp. He covered her mouth with his, sliding a hand down the back of each of her thighs then lifting her off the ground. She hooked her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck as he reached under her thigh to position his rigid sex against her moist opening. She closed her eyes at the initial contact, exhaling as he slowly lowered her down, their slick skin sliding together until she was impaled upon him. Shuddering and moaning from the tightness of their joining, they looked into each other's eyes, acknowledging their new intimacy as their weight shifted slightly against the door. Then, they both experienced a moment of clarity. Their mouths met again slowly, deliberately, their tongues mimicking the movements of their joined lower bodies. They took their time, caressing and prolonging the moment until once again the passion overwhelmed them and they kissed more urgently, increasing the tempo, their thrusting becoming sharper and quicker until the need to concentrate on their lovemaking was too great. Mulder broke the kiss and laid his forehead against the door above her shoulder, clenching his eyes closed while in his fever he repeated her name as a mantra... ...ScullyScullyScullyScullyScully... Her face was nestled into the crook of his neck, biting at the soft flesh under his jaw. He could feel her inner muscles contract around him and her fingers digging into the muscles in his back as she neared her release, clenching him inside of her like a vise. The latch and hinges of the door protesting from the repeated pounding, he exploded inside of her with a few unintelligible sounds that resembled her name. He continued his thrusting as his orgasm resounded through him, the blood roaring in his ears. As the last waves were leaving his body he thrust into her one final time, grinding his pelvis against hers. She stiffened, his name huskily extended from her lips, her head flying back against the door as her contractions throbbed around him. Mulder could feel all of the strength that he'd had in abundance just a few moments before start to leave his body and his legs began to twitch with strain. Scully kept herself wound around him tightly and he wrapped his arms around her securely, turning them and sliding to the floor, his legs sprawled out in front of him. With a contented sigh he closed his eyes and laid his head against the door, holding her trembling body as the last tremors of her orgasm subsided. Thus they remained in silence, still coupled, holding and listening to each other's breathing slowly return to normal. Scully relaxed her hold on him and she slid down his body the few inches to the floor, her bottom hitting the wood softly. She let out a slight grunt, partially from the impact, partially from the loss of their connection. She raised her chin and looked up at Mulder, their eyes meeting and holding. There were tear tracks on her cheeks, a few coppery strands of hair clinging to the wetness. His eyes registered his surprise. A look of concern crossed Mulder's face and gently moved the hair out of her face. He spoke in almost a whisper, his mouth dry and a knot forming in his throat. "Did I hurt you?" Her voice was thick and heavy and slightly amused at his assumption. "No." She swallowed, and a smile crossed her lips. "I'm quite happy, thank you very much." Mulder drew a quick, deep breath of relief with the revelation and confirmation that he'd pleased her. Sexually. Smiling, he raised his hand up to stroke her cheek, then slid his fingers through her hair to the back of her head and pulled her against him in a tight embrace. With an uneven breath, he declared in the softest, quietest voice, "I love you, Scully." She held him a while, then pulled back from the embrace and tucked her legs under her into a kneeling position, bringing her up to almost eye level with him. Affectionately, she placed a hand on either side of his face and looked into his eyes. As they stared at each other they both saw the joy of the realization and the incredulity at what they had finally done. Their faces broke into toothy grins as they began to chuckle. Scully leaned in and kissed him sweetly, chastely. "I love you, too." Shifting and looking lovingly into his eyes once more, she rose to her feet with a wince. A mischievous glint came into Mulder's eyes while she stretched stiffly as he admired for the first time the full unadulterated view of her bare back side. "What's this? Getting old on me, Scully?" Over her shoulder, she gave him the patented Scully look. "I just used muscles I haven't used in years, Mulder." Mulder's eyes grew dark and distant at her confession, hearing her voice the truth that mirrored his own. For seven years they had worked together as friends and spent the rest of their time alone. For all of her self-control she was beautiful and alive and just as human as he with the same needs and desires. All of that time wasted without telling her how he felt about her. No wonder she became frustrated. A sense of guilt passed through him and a confession rose to his lips. "Scully, I - " She closed her eyes and shook her head. He stopped speaking, looking up at her with regret. Her voice was very soft. "Don't say anything, Mulder." "You don't know what I was going to say." "I have a pretty good indication based on the look on your face." She smiled at him, letting him know that she wouldn't change a thing. He held her gaze for a moment, then his male instinct reminded him that the woman he had lusted after for over seven long, frustrating years was standing in front of him buck naked. He looked her over once, then again, the familiar warmth of arousal already beginning to swell inside of him. She stood still, watching him with the trust of a child as he shamelessly appraised her, letting his eyes roam over her curves and angles, the most private parts of her body. There was no embarrassment and nothing to hide - he was her partner, her friend, and now her lover. She allowed him his pleasure, observing with delight the subtle mix of awe and lust playing over his face while the tip of his tongue slid across his lower lip. The growing evidence of his new arousal and the revelation that she had inspired it started the warmth to spread inside of her again as her pulse quickened. "See something you like?" She asked, amused. His gaze returned to her face and his eyes locked with hers. No matter how beautiful and alluring he found the rest of her, his very essence began and ended in Dana Scully's eyes. His look of pure love changed to a leer as he deliberately drug his eyes down her body, resting on the bright curls just below her abdomen before returning to her face. "Did you know that my favorite color is red?" Her eyebrow rose and she feigned surprise, but started laughing and couldn't quite pull it off. "Although..." he continued as he licked his lips, "pink is a close second." "Mulder!" As they grinned at each other, she remembered her thoughts in the garage earlier that evening. So they had made love and the only time they spoke was to say each other's name. Not given names, but surnames. No dissertations or dissection of the subject. It was as it should be. Of course, that didn't mean that they wouldn't pick it apart later... Mulder broke the silence, coaxing her out of her reverie. "Hey, Scully-" "Mmm?" "Whenever you're ready, we've got seven years worth of catching up to do." He was beaming with love and afterglow and sporting an enormous erection. She grinned back at him. "I thought that was a physiological improbability." She said, pointing at his groin. "Didn't your mother ever tell you it's not nice to point?" He said, taking mock offense. "Not in THIS context, no." He shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. "Are you complaining?" He asked with a touch of impatience, just a little self-consciousness. "On the contrary. I'm applauding." She replied with serious sweetness, extending her arm and holding out her hand to him. "C'mon. I know someplace much more comfortable than cold hard wood." "Just remember I'm working off seven years of frustration here, and you're just adding to the stack." He said as she helped him to his feet. "We'd better get started, then." He grinned like a fool, giddy with the knowledge that he would never be able to second-guess Dana Scully...and that he preferred it that way. He grabbed her around the waist, pulling her up against him and rubbing against her. "By the way, is my body language deliberate enough for you, Scully, or should I be more direct and tell you exactly what I have in mind?" She laughed, remembering her rant from earlier that day. Mulder was all over her personal space, in the most personal of ways, and she didn't mind at all. In fact, now she couldn't get enough. "In this case, Mulder, I'd prefer to be surprised." She paused for effect, making him wait. "Next time, however..." He leaned down and silenced her with a kiss. Fin Bedu...@geocities.com http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Starship/9769/Main.html