Title: Backstop Author: Fialka fialka@t-online.de Rating: NC17 Category: M/S Summary: smut biscuit Spoilers: eh, not really, unless you have no idea what happened at the end of The Unnatural Archive: Auto-archives, Gossamer OK. Others please write for permission, though I generally give it. Disclaimer: Don't own them, just borrowing, promise to put them back in a reasonably unmutilated state. First Posting: 31 Jan 00. Feedback: Yes. Feed me. More candy: http://welcome.to/TheCandybox The real meal - The Annotated X-Files Study Guide: http://smart.issexy.com Notes: Yup, it's PWP, post-ep Unnatural, and everybody's done it. Tough. We're grappling with the end of a monstrous casefile and we all needed a little fun tonight. --------------- It's a clear night, and the balls they hit into the sky are exploding like stars. At least that's what they seem to be doing. Scully isn't watching where they come down, she's too intent on just hitting them. Too intent on Mulder, crouched behind her, fitting his tall, gangly body to her neat, compact one. He's hunkered so far down his knees are going to be history tomorrow, but she's quite impressed by the lasting power of his thighs. Quite impressed with the great lump of him that rubs curiously against her bottom, as if wondering whether she's got those black silk panties on tonight. She doesn't, of course. That would have been far too obvious. And would have required foresight. Maybe what's truly impressing her is the knowledge that they've been doing this for half an hour now, and Mulder has made no move to do anything about that curious lump. She's beginning to wonder if he really wants no more than this, just to stand close and hit some balls, forget about their twisted lives for a while. "That's the last one, mister," shouts the kid. He goes running off to collect the balls, while Mulder straightens at last, his evidence trailing up her lower back, nestling against her waist now that he's standing erect. Er, so to speak. She smiles, hiding her face against her own shoulder. Her mind's grown dirty in the last half hour, far more daring than she's ever been. She could waste a lot of time now, asking herself why they're doing this. Why after almost seven years of circumspect distance she is now standing in the circle of his arms, fully aware of how mismatched they are in size since he's pressing himself into a part of her anatomy that's a good foot from the place she'd like to have him. Yeah, she could waste the time. Or she could push it. They're still holding the bat together, and she marvels at how delicate her hands look next to his. They've always looked quite strong to her before. Or is it that his hands look unusually ... well, unusually big? She moves against him and feels him groan through her back. Wrong side, she thinks lazily. She thinks maybe she's dreaming, or she's gone crazy, or simply come home, as the song goes, to a place she's never been before. She lets go of the bat and turns to face him. He has his panic face on; not that she hasn't expected that. He opens his mouth and closes it, clearly asking now what? I don't know, she answers with her eyes. What do you want, Mulder? His mouth opens again. I want...I want...oh Jesus, Scully, I want to fuck you senseless. I want to be so far inside you I'm looking at myself through your eyes. She laughs softly. She's standing so close to him now the tips of her breasts are just barely pressing against his chest. Do ye now? she teases, in her grandmother's soft Irish accent. He doesn't get that, of course, but he gets the sparkle. Get the intention as she puts her hands on his hips. "Hands before hips," she whispers, moving him so that she's polishing that curious lump of his against her belly. "Hips...gk-" Mulder choking in surprise has to be the most delicious sound she's ever heard. She wonders what other strange sounds she can coax from him tonight. The kid is still around somewhere so going down on her knees is out of the question, and Mulder is just too damn tall to kiss for long, not unless she wants to wake up with whiplash. She's either going to have to climb him like a tree or get him lying down. Soon. Now. She runs her hands up his body and twines her fingers together tight behind his neck. The next gratifying sound she hears is the bat dropping carelessly to the ground as Mulder's supposedly brilliant mind finally gets with the program. "Up," she commands, and he complies, lifting her from under the arms like a child. She swings her legs around his waist and locks her ankles together. And now? his eyes ask, for once, perfectly level. Oh, I just wanted to see the view from here, she smiles. He settles her more comfortably into his arms, and suddenly it all grows serious. She's got Mulder between her legs, his lips barely an inch from hers and this is it, this is really it, one more inch will change their lives forever and suddenly she's scared. "Tonight's the night," he sings to her, his voice tweaky and off key and so beautiful she could cry. "It's gonna be all right." She kisses him before she can change her mind. ---------------- When she comes back to her senses she's pressed against the backstop. Mulder is hard and hot between her legs, his tongue soft and warm in her mouth, and he's holding her cradled in the palms of his hands. She wants to make their clothing disappear, wants to throw a cloak of invisibility around them. Wants him inside of her, pounding any second thoughts out of her head. She has to turn away to break their kiss and his mournful little whimper slides hot and wet into her ear. She feels him sagging and realises he's misinterpreted her gesture. So quick to give up when it comes to her, so easy to hurt. She rubs her hand along his jaw. He's as smooth as morning, as smooth as the hope that it might matter. She kisses him again, little butterfly kisses against the rounded end of his nose. She's about to say yes, anywhere, just not here, when they're suddenly plunged into darkness. She looks over his shoulder. The lights are out, the basket by the pitching machine is full, the kid is gone. She looks down at him. Down, hmm, it's rare she looks down on anyone older than twelve, let alone a standing Mulder, and she likes the perspective. She's sure he's just had the same thought she has, but he's waiting, ever the gentleman, to let her walk first through that door. She can't remember the third line of the song so she sings him the fourth. "Ain't nobody gonna stop us now." Her voice is as flat as ever, but his smile is her spotlight and she feels, for one fleeting moment, like Kiri Te Kanawa. She unhooks her legs and he lets her slide back down. She's looking up at him again, the way she always does, though tonight she's got even farther to look because she's worn flat shoes. From now on, every time she looks up at him from this angle, she's going to see him like this, gazing at her with heavy eyes, tongue unconsciously caressing his bottom lip. He looks absolutely delicious. He looks the way she's always wished he would look at her, though till this moment she'd have cleaned the Gunmen's den naked rather than admit it. She reaches for his belt, licking her own lips in anticipation. "Do that again, Scully, and we're over before we start," he groans, and it's true, he's suddenly grown huge, pressed tight against his jeans. She laughs and puts her hands on him, turning her face up to the moon so he can see her tongue very clearly as it circumnavigates her open mouth. "Scully!" She's got him in her hands now, thank goodness for button flies that spread open as easily as her own legs did just a moment ago. And will again soon, if she's got anything to say about it. "Don't even think about it," he gasps, his hands in her hair, pulling her back as she leans forward to inspect the merchandise. "You know, you've got it backwards, Mulder. Usually when a man holds my head like this he's moving it in the opposite direction." "I'd have ten seconds, max." His hands turn soft, combing her hair back. "Come on, Scully, gimme a chance." His hands are on her face now, and what is in his eyes is deeper than anything she'd ever imagined. For me? she breathes, astonished. "Yes," he says, out loud, against her mouth. He kisses her again and this time she is drowning beneath the sea of him, drowning until something deep inside her stops fighting, accepts that this is how it ends. She finds herself opening, letting him flood her senses, her body ebbing and flowing to his touch. She finds she can breathe underwater. She finds she never wants to surface. When she does she realises that her trousers are somewhere down around her ankles, and she is making a noise embarrassingly close to a human purr as his fingers slip and slide between her legs. Somehow he's managed to unwrap his present first, as he always does, before she's even gotten the ribbon off hers. "No....no fair...starting without me," she gasps, trying to remember which muscles will keep her knees from folding up. He chuckles into her ear, then follows it with his tongue. "I had every intention of taking you along." "Then you better let me see what you've been hiding all these years." Now it's his turn to be embarrassed. "You've seen the goods, Scully." "Never in their full glory." She reaches inside his jeans with both hands and coaxes him out. And stares, blinking, at the full Monty. Or rather, the full Mulder. It's a little bit daunting. All she can think of to say is, "Wow." "Doctor Scully is impressed?" he asks, jerking his muscles so he dances a bit. "Doctor Scully's seen bigger, but not with her name on it." She looks up, about to say something to tease him further, but once again she's stopped by the raw emotion in his eyes. She watches him, mesmerised, as he draws her underwear down her legs, carefully guiding the whole thing, trousers and all, over her shoes. Then he's kneeling on the ground, gazing up at her with a look that could only be called adoration, wiggling his own clothing if not off, then suitably far enough down. "Hold on," he says softly, and she reaches above her head, as high as she can. She grabs on to the fence as he stands, hooking his arms behind her knees and lifting her off the ground. He's on his way in now and her body is staging a brief and hopefully futile protest. She could say she's out of practice, but the truth is she's never had much of this kind of exercise, not nearly enough, and what she's had has never involved this kind of Olympic level gymnastics. She climbs another few inches up the fence, giving him a clearer path. "Scully, I don't-" he starts. "Stop now and I swear I'll break you in half," she orders, kicking her heels against the small of his back. His hips suddenly jerk hard, thrusting him past the barricade. She'll have to threaten him more often, he seems to like that. For right now, though, he's here, and it's just one long, slow, glorious slide home. She opens her eyes and smiles at him. He draws in a long, deep breath, holding himself very still. "I could come just looking at you," he whispers. She whispers back, "Don't you dare." His lazy grin turns to surprise as she tightens around him. "Mulder," she says firmly, "I'm not much help in this position. You're going to have to make some effort if you want this to go anywhere. Remember hips before hands?" "Hips. Hmm." He is teasing again, his seriousness banished, and she's grateful to be able to close her eyes and just feel him, moving slowly in and out. "Like this?" No. He's going to lull her into a stupor if he goes on like this. A delicious, sensuous, langorous stupor, but a bit dangerous when she's got her knees up around her armpits, and she's hanging from a chain link fence. "Since when do you drive so slow, Mulder?" "Ah. Agent Scully wants to put the pedal down." She opens her eyes. "Agent Scully doesn't want anything at the moment, thank you, but *I* could do with -" He pulls almost fully out then thrusts in hard, quite effectively silencing her. "Hips before hands," he murmurs, serious again. His hands are in the fence now too, driving her higher as he thrusts again. She bites down on her lip to keep from screaming as he hits something deep inside, something that responds with unashamed, ass-wiggling pleasure. "Hips before hands." He thrusts into the same place and she lets her lip go before she bites through it. "Mulder..." Oh god, he's looking at her, watching her face as he does it again. She should be embarrassed, she should be - No, this is GOOD, this is just unbelievably good - And again. And again. She hears sobbing and she thinks it's herself, crying as he reaches inside of her, reaches for the one thing she won't give, can't give, has never given and "Please," he's begging her, "Please, Scully, trust me," and he's so good, and he's THERE, and she opens her eyes, and it's him, god it's him, tears running down his face, and he's looking at her and she lets him see YES, lets him see right into that private place she's been guarding her whole life and now that he's THERE he'll think that it's HIS, but it's already HIS, god it's always been HIS, and he's always been THERE, and it's good that he's THERE, yes right THERE, he was YES, always THERE, always YES, always YES, always "GO, let it GO, Scully, YES, let it-" YES, Mulder, YES, I just, MORE, Mulder, YES, it's so GOOD, it's so GOOD it's so YES it's so YES MULDER YES MULDER YES YES YES - And she's coming, coming so hard that her mind, for the first time in her entire life, goes utterly, blissfully, mercifully silent. When she comes back around, it will take both of them to pry her hands from the fence. ---------------- She's wondering what will happen now that she has apparently screamed her head off with him exploding inside her, a detail she is certain he's going to tease her about for the rest of his life. "I'm sure I didn't," she insists, though frankly she doesn't remember. "I think I was passed out over your shoulder by then." He smiles at her sideways. They're dressed and he's sitting beside her, trying to massage some feeling back into her hands. "If that was you unconscious, we'd better soundproof your bedroom." He kneads the stiff, tiny muscles of her fingers and for once, she is not tempted to mentally name them. "Just in case you decide to stay awake the next time we do that." She waits for the panic to set in, terror of the assumption that there will be a next time, that it will be in her bed. Instead, there is only a vague tickle of anticipation, deep inside, in the place where she can still feel him. There's one ball the kid forgot, one that practically came down on their heads. She rises, scoops it up, hefts it in her hand. Time to come clean, she figures. She steps up to the plate, picks up the bat. She doesn't need to turn to be certain Mulder is watching. She can feel his gaze. It's like his touch, warm and soft and slightly awkward. She gets a one-handed grip on the bat, and a nice wide-legged stance, smiling at the picture she must make. Then she tosses the ball in the air and swings, expertly, hitting a pop fly out to center and over the fence. She turns to meet Mulder's astonished face. "I did have two brothers," she grins, deeply proud of herself. To be honest, she wasn't sure she could still do it. "You tricked me," he pouts. "Yes." She leans over and kisses him, marvelling at how easy it is now to do this. "If I'd known what it would lead to, I might have done it years ago." "And here I thought I was seducing you," he answers, chasing her lips as she moves back. "I think we finally seduced each other." He nods in that slow, solemn way he has and reaches for her hand. She lets him pull her down to curl in his lap. "So, partner," he says, but she hears his question. There are still tear tracks in the dust on his face and she licks her finger to rub them away. Whatever happens now, she knows that she was once loved by a man who cried from the sheer joy of being inside her. If that's not a miracle, she doesn't know what is. "So, partner," she answers, and she smiles. And he smiles. And it's as simple as that. -------------- --------------