TITLE: At the End of the Silence AUTHOR: Lydia Worth EMAIL: hushidh@usa.com RATING: NC-17 for sex and lots of it. Oh, you want PLOT?? Sorry, you're in the wrong room. ARCHIVE: Sure, why not? Just send me a line telling me where it's going, and make sure my name stays on it. RATING: NC-17 for sex and lots of it. Oh, you want PLOT?? Sorry, you're in the wrong room. SUMMARY: Smut and sex and erotica, oh my! CATEGORY: MSR MY NOTES: My first XF fanfic. If you've seen my site, you know it's not my first fanfiction ever. God, this was fun. Sure made Calculus a lot easier to bear. DISCLAIMER: You know the drill. Like this is good enough to get sued over... FEEDBACK: Please. Flames will be returned in kind. I'm at hushidh@usa.com. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ She read the statement, lips pressed together in thought, tucking a strand of red hair back behind her ear. Approving, she drew a pen from the holder on the desk and scratched her signature on the bottom line. She laid it neatly on top of the "Out" pile and began to leaf through the confidential findings report regarding their last case. "Morning, Scully," Mulder said, walking into the office and laying his briefcase down on his desk. "Afternoon, Mulder," she replied dryly, looking up as he finished taking off his coat. "Nice of you to join us." "The power went out in my building. My alarm clock reset." He snapped open his briefcase and began shuffling through the papers. "Not much of an early riser, are you, Mulder?" she asked, eyeing the clock. "I had a late night." He stored the briefcase under his desk. "You don't look so wide awake yourself." She sighed, taking off her glasses and folding them. "I had trouble sleeping. It must be the holiday." "Labor Day hardly counts as a stressful holiday, Scully. What's really bothering you?" He absentmindedly began leafing through a pile of case facts. "Oh, I don't know. Nothing important." He left it at that and started on the paperwork. A hand on her shoulder startled her from the case report. Scully looked up to see Mulder standing beside her. "It's past six. What are you still doing here?" "I wanted to finish these autopsy findings. Is it really that late?" She glanced at the clock. "Guess I lost track of time." She composed her things into her briefcase. He put his hand on hers to still her. "Scully, you're shaking. Are you sure you're all right?" "I'm fine, Mulder. I've just been having some trouble sleeping lately." She slipped her coat on and buttoned up the front. "Insomnia?" "Nightmares." She gathered up her belongings, tucking her glasses into her bag. She stopped, opened her bag wider and began digging frantically through it. "I forgot my keys." She sighed, closed up the briefcase. "I took a taxi here this morning because my car's in the shop. I must've left them at home." "I'll drive you home. Help you break into your apartment." He smiled. She sighed again. "Thanks, Mulder." There was actually no need to break into the apartment. Scully always kept a spare key taped at the bottom of her briefcase, and she "remembered" right before Mulder went to break a window. She didn't know why she'd kept quiet. For some reason, she just wanted to see him. Mulder, for his part, still had a set of keys for her apartment, but he didn't say anything. He didn't quite know why. For some reason, he just wanted to see her. "Would you like to stay for dinner?" she asked, hanging up her coat. "It's no trouble." "Thanks." He took off his coat and hung it next to hers. Scully threw together a small dinner for both of them, and Mulder helped with the dishes. It was comfortable, familiar somehow, and she found herself smiling as he joined her in the living room with two glasses of red wine. "The Outer Limits, huh?" he asked, sitting next to her on the couch and handing her a glass. "Nothing like taking your work home with you." Scully said nothing, taking a sip of wine and letting it warm her throat and stomach. She slipped a sidewise glance at her partner, who had taken off his shoes and had one stockinged foot up on the couch. He took a long, slow sip of wine and closed his eyes as he swallowed. Something about that action made her cheeks heat. She disguised it by sipping from her glass. The episode ended. Both of them just sat there for a while, watching the commercials and finishing the wine. Mulder took both their glasses into the kitchen at last, yawning and stretching as he went. Scully watched him casually, appraising him with a loose affection not entirely unaffected by the strong wine. "Thanks for dinner," he said upon returning to the living room. He walked over to her, moving to drop a light kiss on her red hair. The motion startled her, and she looked up suddenly. Instead of his kiss falling on her head, it fell directly on her lips. Mulder pulled back instantly, but not before they each felt the electric shock that sparked from the kiss. Their eyes met, locked and held. He leaned back in, slowly this time, and she didn't move as his mouth approached. A brief tingle slid down her spine as his lips met hers. He tasted like wine. His lips parted, drawing in her breath, slanting his head to the side to draw her closer. Long before she had had enough, he pulled away. Scully looked up at him, standing so as to be at eye level. She broke gaze first, turning away and facing the back wall. He came up behind her and pressed his mouth against the back of her neck. She shivered involuntarily as he traced a wet path up to her ear. It felt so good; she didn't want to pull away. She knew she had to, or else she wouldn't ever move, but he moved back before she had to decide. A light breeze brushed her back as he walked away from her. She turned when she heard the springs of the couch squeak as he sat down. He looked at the darkened television screen, hands folded in his lap, leaning forward with his forearms on his knees. She stood still, arms crossed, watching him. "What kind of nightmares?" he asked, not looking at her. She turned away for a moment, then padded over to the recliner and curled up in it, folding her legs under her. "They're always the same," she said quietly. "I'm standing in a dark room. I feel...hands. Fingers." She swallowed, blushing a deep crimson. "Mouths. On me. I can't see anything. I can't move." "And these are...nightmares?" Mulder asked, raising his eyebrows. "They keep me awake." She couldn't tell him the truth, that they kept her awake because they were the most erotic experiences she was having, but the small grin creeping over his face said he already knew. "It's not funny, Mulder," she said weakly. "It's disturbing." He opened his mouth like he was going to say something else, but wisely closed it again. He stood up and walked over to the window, hands thrust into his jeans pockets. She waited only a moment before going to stand next to him, arms folded. He had nothing to say, that she knew, but standing there next to him called up turmoil that she thought was buried. He turned to face her, hands coming out of his pockets and hanging at his sides. His mouth opened once, twice, and finally he just licked his upper lip. "It's not all about the sex," she said mildly, trying not to meet his stormy eyes. "It sounds a lot different to say it aloud. It's unnerving. It's not horrifying. Well, I'm sure you figured it wasn't horrifying. It just...it keeps me up." She looked up, and that was a mistake. His eyes were dark, deep and captivating. He was close enough for her to smell his aftershave. She stepped back a pace. He followed her. Her blue eyes were just so beautiful, so clear; her skin looked so soft. She drew him in. "Do you want me to stay?" he asked softly, low in his throat, almost a growl. "Just in case you have any more nightmares?" His hand went behind her head, fingers burying into her thick hair. Her momentary vulnerability stirred some darkness within him, some powerful emotion he couldn't describe. Her strong Scully mask slapped on, covering the vulnerable, weak part, but that only seemed to draw him even more. And then he was kissing her, roughly, fiercely, his lips parting hers and tongue plunging possessively between them. She was murmuring something into his mouth, but from the way her hands clutched at his shirt, Mulder didn't think it was a protest. His hand molded to her breast through the material of her blouse. Her murmurs stopped, hands frozen where they clutched his shirt, and her body went still beneath his touch. He didn't know how to take that as he slowly twisted her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Suddenly, and all at once, the resistance left her body, and her knees weakened. She moaned loudly into his mouth. Mulder had never heard anything so erotic in all his life. He pinched one nipple tightly and then began stroking the other. They tightened into pebble-hard peaks beneath his caresses. The rational part of Scully's mind was having a field day. (What the hell are you doing? You were just talking about your sex dreams with Mulder, MULDER, and now you're practically fucking him? Have you lost your mind?) Okay, so her mind didn't exactly form sentences. In fact, she was having trouble finding a coherent sentence anywhere in her repertoire, but the red flags were blazing. She ignored them. When they finally broke the kiss, it was for air. Mulder moved instantly to her neck as his fingers frantically sought the buttons of her blouse. "No." She hated speaking the word more than he hated hearing it, but there was pain with the disbelief in his eyes as he slowly looked up. "No?" "Not like this. Not in the living room, on the floor, half-dressed." She closed her eyes. Mulder was uncertain what he would see when she opened them. His hands slid from her breasts to his sides, hanging limply, his jeans uncomfortably tight in contrast. Her hand caught his wrist. He looked at it, surprised, as if it were an entity unto itself. Then he looked into her eyes. They were open now, and rejection was nowhere in sight. "Not like this," she repeated. "Not here." A slight smile flickered and was gone. "Come to bed with me." He walked like a man dreaming, letting her lead him into the bedroom. She undressed herself in front of him, piece by piece, and Mulder realized there was an exhibitionist Scully he had never seen before. His hands went to his own clothing. He left his shirt in a pile on the floor with his pants, suddenly self-conscious as he revealed his now-taut boxers. He looked down at himself, a little sheepish, wondering what in the world he was doing. When he looked up, Scully was naked. She let him look at her, arms by her sides, breasts heaving as she breathed in and out. His eyes darkened, fists clenching and unclenching as he looked her slowly up and down. He licked his lips. "God, Scully," he breathed raggedly, and his tone made her blush. She was beautiful. Her breasts were plump with her arousal, dusky coral-brown nipples drawn tight. She was slender, petite, but her figure made him catch his breath. She stood with her legs slightly parted, giving him barely a glimpse of the secrets behind the copper curls that he so ached to run his fingers through. He slid off his boxers. She gazed at him without embarrassment. His shaft was hard, pulsing slightly, large and proud against the forest of dark curls. She could hardly bear to look away. Scully wondered briefly what he would taste like, and her inner muscles clenched with the thought. He took two steps toward her and lifted her off the ground. She gasped in surprise. He fell with her onto the bed, kissing her lips and then drawing back to kiss her neck and chest. He took one nipple into his mouth, and she cried out at the sensations. He suckled her hard, firmly, but never hard enough to hurt. It made her ache. He moved to the other breast and used his fingers to tweak the nipple his mouth had just abandoned. She tasted so good. Scully was flying. She wanted this like she wanted nothing else. Completion. Release. A good, hard fucking like she had never felt before. He reached down and cupped her. Electricity surged through her. His long fingers grazed her swollen bud; then he slid two inside her. He flexed them apart, stretching her entrance, then curled them upward to press against her g-spot. "Oh, God!" she called, mindless. "Oh, please, Mulder!" Mulder was in heaven. The woman he had loved for so long, wanted for so long, was writhing beneath him and calling out his name. Her throaty cries made him get even harder, as did the feeling of her hot tight core clenching around his fingers. Just when she thought she would go mad with pleasure, he stopped. She sobbed out in frustration. Mulder lifted his head. Her eyes were open, her hands buried in his hair. "Touch yourself," he whispered. A tremor rushed through Scully. "What?" "Touch yourself, Dana." He nuzzled her ear. "Let me look at you. Show me what you like." Scully suddenly felt very, very naked. And shy. But when it became obvious that he wasn't going to touch her, her arousal won. She slid her right hand over her belly and through her curls, then brushed her fingertips over her clit. Her hips bucked off the bed suddenly, and Mulder thought he would explode right there at the look of intense pleasure that washed over her face. She reached the other hand down and slipped two fingers inside herself. "Oh, Mulder..." He bit his lip as she continued to coo and sigh. Dana Scully, F.B.I. special agent, partner, friend, staunch and professional in every circumstance, was pleasuring herself in front of him. "Do you do this, Scully?" he whispered, taking a nip at her earlobe. He didn't need to ask; the practiced way her fingers rolled and circled was all the answer he needed. "Yes," she whispered softly, face a mask of bliss. "Do you think of me?" His hand circled her breast. "Every time," she murmured. His erection throbbed at that response. "Let's see if I can give you something new to think about," he whispered, before lowering himself between her legs. He pushed her knees up to either side and removed her hands. The murmur of disappointment was unmistakable. He smiled. Her eyes were closed; she wasn't watching him. He lowered his mouth to her. Scully's eyes flashed open instantly. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Her hands balled up fistfuls of sheet as he lifted her legs over his shoulders with both his hands under her bottom. His tongue slid inch by inch into her warmth. She tasted so fucking sweet, he thought, and she smelled heady and musky. He loved the smell of a woman aroused. His upper lip brushed her bud, and she pressed herself against his face. He licked her tiny bud and sucked at it as she cried out and whimpered with each stroke. Scully thought she was going to die; the pleasure was so exquisite. "I need you," she pleaded breathlessly. "Oh, God, Mulder, please!" He was never one to refuse a woman's pleading, especially not Scully's. He moved up to kiss her again. She took his swollen shaft in her hand and guided him into her. Mulder's eyes were open as he buried himself inside her. And she was looking right back. He felt like a virgin again as he penetrated the sweetest length of tight wetness he had ever known. Scully could only sigh as the length and breadth of Mulder's beautiful shaft slid to the hilt inside her. He moved slowly at first, trying to make it last. For her part, Scully knew it wouldn't take long. She was so close already. He reached between their bodies and began stroking her bud in small circles, eyes never leaving hers. Her moans got louder. Mulder pressed harder and faster, stroking furiously. Scully's blue eyes fell closed and she clenched around him, holding fast, nails digging into his back. She came first, mouth open and eyes closed, head thrown back, her scream silent but present in the arching of her back and the furious clenching of her muscles. She bucked against him, beginning to cry out repeatedly as she rode the last of her orgasm. He came immediately upon seeing the expression on her face. He ground himself into her, covering her mouth with his, kissing her as he emptied himself inside her. A few final, hard thrusts, and he collapsed on top of her, catching himself on his forearms and resting his head on her breast. He could hear her heart pounding as she panted for air, one hand limply resting against the back of his head. An immense peace settled over Scully. There was none of the guilt or regret she thought she would feel. It felt right. Comfortable. Familiar. She couldn't imagine a more perfect place for them. At last, Mulder lifted his head and looked into Scully's eyes. She swept a lock of hair off his sweaty forehead. He smiled at her, tenderly, and kissed her slowly, deeply, warmly. Then he rolled off her and gathered her into his arms. She felt so small, so fragile, even though he knew she was solid steel. Her head nestled into the crook of his neck. "I love you." The words tumbled out of his mouth, unbidden. They hung in the stillness like storm clouds threatening rain. Scully was silent, thinking, trying to figure out what to say. "I..." she began. Mulder placed his fingers over her lips. "You don't have to say anything." She removed his fingers and rolled on top of him, pressing her mouth to his. He didn't need her to say it. Just having her there was enough. His body twitched. Mulder was suddenly uncomfortably aware of her nakedness straddling his hips. His body woke slowly to the sensations. A slow smile broke out over Scully's face. She shifted her hips a little, and Mulder's breath caught. "Doesn't take you long," she said, smiling. He grinned back at her sheepishly. But Scully didn't move again to entice him. She carefully lay herself on top of him and rested her head on his chest. The motion was tender. His arousal waned, protectiveness taking over, and he enfolded her in his arms. "Stay with me," she whispered into his neck. Mulder kissed the silky top of her head and relaxed back against the pillow, closing his eyes and allowing himself to drift off to sleep. She was there when he woke up in the morning. She lay on her stomach next to him, arms up by her head, mouth slightly open in sleep. He looked at the clock. It was only 6:00 am. The sun was peeking through the blinds, shining on Scully's back, and he had an urge to kiss every inch of that skin. Scully woke with a start when she felt a warm mouth on the nape of her neck. She jerked upright, grabbing for her gun on the nightstand, before the previous night's events came flooding in on her. Mulder could see a trace of her smile as she lay back down on her stomach. He kissed a slow soft path down her spine, leaving a row of goosebumps. Mulder outlined the ring of her tattoo with his tongue. She shivered. Scully let him trace her back with his fingertips and tongue, her eyes slipping closed. Mulder studied her body. She was beautiful. Just looking at her made his heart race. He traced his fingers over the curve of her bottom, then the crease of her thigh. Her legs parted as she relaxed. He let his hand dip down between her thighs and outlined her folds with his fingertips. She was so soft down there, soft and warm and slowly growing wet. He smiled. She let him arouse her, the heady feeling intensifying her groggy early-morning sleepiness until her eyelids were too heavy to keep open. Mulder pushed her legs a little farther apart and began fingering her in earnest. He dipped two long fingers inside her and pressed against the walls. He pushed down against the area of spongy tissue right below her pubic bone, and Scully arched back into his hand with a whimper. He turned his hand palm-down so he could rest his thumb on her clit. He flicked it gently over the swollen nub, continuing to press down on her g-spot. Scully tightened her fierce grip on the pillow. She wasn't awake enough to resist the wild sensations overcoming her still- sensitized body. She tried tokeep a coherent thought in her head, to no avail. Finally she just let herself go. She arched her back and pressed herself into him further. Mulder could feel her getting close. Her muscles were quivering around his fingers, and he could see the tip of her tongue pressed against her upper lip. (She did that last night, too,) he thought, and filed it away in his mind under the heretofore-empty list of "signs Scully is approaching orgasm." She was moving against him in a rhythm by then, riding his hand and moaning shamelessly, head twisting on the pillow. He circled his thumb on her bud once, twice, and she came. Scully cried out as the orgasm overtook her. She made little hiccuping sobs, words flowing freely. "Oh, God, Mulder...oh...oh, yes! Oh, oh...I love you..." Mulder's heart stopped in his chest. He watching the orgasm drain her body until she lay limp and sweaty on the pillow. His fingers made a soft sucking sound as he removed them from her body. Her words just rang over and over in his head, and he didn't know if they were orgasm-induced nonsense or the way she truly felt. Either way, it made him warm inside. Eventually she rolled over and looked at him, a lazy smile on her face. He grinned back. Scully had that afterglow about her, the glow that said, "I got lucky." She looked radiant. "Sex is very becoming on you," he said, dropping a kiss onto her nose. "You should try it more often." "Is that an offer?" she asked devilishly, sitting upright. Mulder couldn't help watching the way her breasts pushed out into the morning air. He wanted to taste them, so he did. Once nipple, then the other. When he lifted his head, her eyes were closed, and she was smiling. "What happens now?" he asked. She opened her eyes and raised an eyebrow. "I mean, now, now. We get up. Then what?" Scully looked right into his eyes. "We go to work." He nodded. "And...this?" He gestured to the rumpled sheets, the piled clothes, the scent of sex hanging heavy in the air. "It stays." She was Scully, then, professional, hard-edged Scully, determined Scully, the consummate put-together woman, even if she were sitting naked as a jay in front of him. "We keep it." Mulder read the flash in her eyes. It said that there was too much on the table, that she had been laid bare, that there was no going back. All he could was nod. They didn't need to mention that it would be difficult. In their gaze, they exchanged fears and doubts and insecurities, and when they were done, all that was left was their own truth. They were meant to stay together. At the end of the silence was a kiss. It lasted a moment, but it felt like forever. Scully got up and walked to the bathroom to take a shower. "Scully..." Mulder began, then hesitated. She turned around to face him. "When you...were coming, you said something." Her expression of questioning didn't change as he continued. "I mean, it probably was nothing. Just a spur of the moment thing. It's...it's nothing. Forget I said anything." He looked down. Scully still stood there, questioning look on her face, for a long moment, puzzled by his response. "Mulder," she said at last, and he looked up. "Mulder, I meant it." A smile passed quickly over her face, and she disappeared into the bathroom. Mulder just sat for a few minutes, then smiled at last. 'Scully, wait," he called, jumping to his feet. "I'll join you."