Christmas in Silver
by Dasha K.
dashak@aol.com
Please archive at Gossamer. If you'd like to archive this
anywhere else, please ask permission first. I'll say yes,
most likely.

Summary: Silver is a good color on Mulder. A wholesome
tale that follows Jennifer Stoy's "Christmas in Space."
Rating: NC-17, children begone!
Classification: SRH
Keywords: MSR
Spoilers: Dreamland II
Disclaimer: Angels we have heard on high, that I do not
own Mulder and Scully.

Stay tuned to the end for a bonus recipe.

Santa will put you on his "nice" list for next year if you
send feedback to dashak@aol.com

This mind-cookie is my sadly belated present to the
delightful and precocious Jennifer Stoy, who asked Santa
for this. You have been a very, very good girl this year,
Jennifer.

This is a follow-up (written with permission) of Jennifer's
story "Christmas In Space," which you can find at her site
at http://members.tripod.com/~j_stoy/writing.html. You
don't have to read her story to understand this one, but
you should read it anyhow. It's a goodie.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

The silence in the car was thick and sweet as they returned
from the House of Pies. Mulder tried his damnedest not to
sneak glances at Scully, who sat in the passenger seat with
a box of French Silk pie in her lap, a present for her
mother.

After parking near Mulder's building, they awkwardly stood
by her car. He wondered, with a fair amount of frantic
energy, if it was now permissible to kiss her. As if
reading his mind, Scully grinned. "Mind if I come up?"

He found himself repeatedly nodding like an imbecile.

Upstairs, Mulder switched on the lights of his garish
little tree. "Can I get you a drink?" he asked, his own
mouth dry as sawdust.

Scully shrugged out of her wool coat and lay it on the
chair. "Do you have any wine?"

He grinned. For once he was prepared. "Better than that,
Scully, I have a bottle of champagne in the fridge."

Merriment flashed in her blue eyes. "Why don't you bring
it to me in the bedroom . . ." He felt his knees turn to
the precise consistency of lime Jell-O on a warm summer
afternoon.

In the kitchen it seemed to take an eternity to get the
bottle of Cristal out of the refrigerator, to fill the ice
bucket (another mysterious new acquisition of his) and find
two flutes in the cupboard. Sure, the glasses said "Mazel
Tov Larry and Janice," a souvenir of his cousin's wedding,
but they'd have to do the trick in a pinch.

On the way to the bedroom he fought an irresistible urge to
sing "Let's Get It On," deciding Scully probably wouldn't
appreciate him channeling Barry White for her benefit.

As he crossed the threshold of his new seraglio, which had
been decorated by forces unseen (but forces that believed
just a bit too firmly in the Playboy Lifestyle), he nearly
dropped the tray on the floor.

Ohmyfuckinggodimustbehallucinatingcausenowaycanthisbeforrea
lnowwayinhell . . .

Scully, his steadfast partner, she of the severe suits, was
lounging on her side on the godawful waterbed. Better than
that, she was lounging in a dark green lace bra, matching
bikini panties and black thigh-high stockings. Stockings
with black seams running up the back.

Mulder was sure he'd faint, since all of the blood meant
for his brain had decided to take a trip south. "Sc-Scully
. . ." he stammered, managing to set the tray down on the
dresser with a loud clank of glasses.

Her voice was low. "Are you going to gawk all night or are
you planning on opening the champagne?"

He shook his head, attempting to clear it of the cobwebs
that had formed and with shaking fingers unwrapped the foil
and twisted out the plastic cork without shooting it off
into a dark corner of the room. I should be so lucky, he
thought, all too aware of the growing bulge in his pants.
He didn't even want to think about how long it had been
since he'd last gotten laid.

The champagne was poured into the glasses and he only
spilled a little bit on the round tray. He crossed the
room to her with trepidation, certain that at any minute
Scully would morph into a bounty hunter.

Instead, Scully took the glass from him and made a purring
noise after she took a wallow of her champagne. "Classy,"
she said, licking her lips. "You got Cristal."

Mulder simply stood there, glass in hand, gaping at her
lush cleavage in the lace bra and the few auburn curls
peeking over the edge of her panties. This was better than
the Playmate of the Year, ever more fun than his well-worn
tape of "Lesbos A Go-Go." For this was 3-D--he could hear
her soft breathing, smell the sweet spice of her perfume
and watch her slightly rounded belly expand and contract
with her breaths.

Gingerly, he sat on the edge of the bed and took a swallow
of his wine. A soft hand touched his shoulder. "I'm not
going to bite," she chuckled. "At least, not yet."

His mouth fell open and his dick surged against his pants.

Scully sat up and clinked her flute against his. "To
Christmas," she said.

"To Christmas," he replied thickly.

Turning to see her face, he noticed the sly expression.
"Do you know what would really be fun?" she husked.

He had to fight like a madman to keep his tongue from
hanging out like a Golden Retriever.

Scully sinuously stretched toward the head of the bed and
reached for something underneath one of the pillows. His
breath caught in his throat. Were there hallucinogens in
his water supply?

Between her slender fingers dangled a pair of handcuffs.
Scully's FBI-issue cuffs. Mulder had to fortify himself
with a slug of champagne.

"Scully?" he managed to croak.

"Yes?" She leaned closer.

"What was the first thing you ever heard me say?"

One cinnamon eyebrow arched. "Something about the FBI's
Most Unwanted, Mulder."

Relief flooded through his veins. She wasn't a mandroid or
a shapeshifter after all. "Just checking to make sure
you're you," he said.

"Seems to be the motif tonight." With a fey tilt of her
head, Scully fixed one cuff around his right wrist.

"You got all those lovely gifts for me," she breathed into
his ear, sending undignified chills up his spine. "Now
consider this my present to you. That and the cashmere
sweater I have for you back at my place." Scully pushed
him in the chest and the bed started jiggling like mad.
God, he *hated* waterbeds. In fact, he was worried he
might get seasick when the action started. Swiftly, Scully
affixed the other cuff to the handle of the bedside table.

While unbuttoning his shirt, Scully said, "Now I've got you
where I want you, Mulder. I'm in charge now." She ran her
pink tongue across her bottom row of teeth. "You'd better
be a good boy."

Oh yeah, he'd be the best boy she'd ever seen if she just
didn't stop removing his clothes. He lay in his unbuttoned
shirt, the cuffed arm still wearing cotton and shut his
eyes as she unzipped his pants and drew them off his legs.

"Nice," she murmured as she ran a fingertip along the
length of his erection through the fabric of his boxers.
"I think I'll have to take a closer inspection."

Trying to be helpful, Mulder lifted his hips so she could
slip his shorts off. He looked up at her, suddenly
apprehensive. What if she didn't like what she saw? He
wasn't one to do much comparison-shopping in the locker
room, but he was fairly sure he had a decent-sized penis.

Scully bit her lip and then smiled down at him, her cheeks
pink. "This is what you've been keeping from me all this
time? Naughty man, you should have spoken up sooner."

He could have sworn it grew another inch, right then and
there with her words.

She straddled him, just above his erection, and pushed the
silky green straps of her bra down to her shoulders.
Mulder wondered if it was possible for his eyes to
permanently pop out of his head as she undid the front
clasp and her breasts sprang free.

"So, this is what you've been hiding under those suits all
this time?" he said, deeply proud he had managed to get a
whole sentence out. Her breasts were bigger than he'd
expected, round and full with deep rose nipples. Much,
much better than the pair he'd conjured up from time to
time in the shower.

She leaned over him and smiled, but he caught a moment of
hesitation in her eyes. Oh, don't chicken out, Scully, he
thought, not after all this time and after you've gotten me
naked and chained to my bed. And for one nauseating second
he imagined it all was a horrible practical joke on her
part.

A thoughtful look passed on Scully's face. "Hmm," she
said, wrinkling her brow. "Now that I've got you where I
want you, what shall I do with you?"

A thousand options flipped through Mulder's mind, most of
them involving the use of her mouth. He shrugged
helplessly. "You could kiss me," he suggested.

A slow smile bloomed on her face. "Ah yes, it is rather
strange that I have you handcuffed and naked but we haven't
so much as kissed yet."

Mulder nodded. She leaned down and he could smell the
champagne on her breath. His throat constricted as she
pressed the silk of her lips to his own in a chaste little
kiss. She sat back up. "Like that?" she asked.

He gulped. "I was hoping for more."

"Impatient man," she laughed and moved her face to his
again. This time her mouth opened and her tongue slipped
in his mouth, sending an electric current straight to his
groin as their tongues slid against each other. Mulder
wondered where she had learned to kiss with such sensual
casualness as his free hand moved up to her soft neck to
press her in deeper to his mouth.

So this is what he'd been waiting for all. It seemed to be
worth the wait.

Scully pulled away from his lips and he found himself
whimpering with the loss of sensation. "Very nice," she
said. "That in itself was good enough for a Christmas
present."

Her words made him grin like a fool.

With a small sigh, Scully slid off his body and stood up.
"Where are you going?" he whined.

"I'm still hungry," she said and stretched. He stared at
her in befuddlement. After all the years of waiting, when
things were just looking up for them, Scully wanted
something to eat?

"I'm going to the kitchen," she said and headed out the
door.

If she takes off and leaves me here, cuffed to the bed, I'm
going to kill her, Mulder thought. But somehow, he knew
she wasn't that cruel, not after his earnest confession of
love earlier in the evening. She wouldn't do that to him,
would she?

End 1/2
Dasha K.

Admitting your fanfic problem is the first step...


Christmas In Silver by Dasha K. (2/2)
This story is NC-1- kiddies are not welcome here.

Feedback to dashak@aol.com

Disclaimers and all that in Pt. 1


It seemed an eternity and a half before Scully returned to
the bedroom. Alone in the room, Mulder fought the urge to
reach down with his hand to touch himself, to relieve the
horrible ache in his groin. Finally, Scully padded back in
the room, with a plate in hand.

"I forgot about the pie. I need a chocolate fix," she said
and sat on the edge of the waterbed.

"You're torturing me, I hope you know." He struggled to
sit up and touch her, but found, like Tantalus' grapes, she
was maddeningly out of reach.

Slowly, she licked French Silk off the tines of a fork and
grinned at him. "I know. Isn't it great?"

He threw back his head and groaned in frustration.

"God," she said in a moan, "they really know how to bake at
the House of Pies. Which makes sense, given the name."

His voice a threat, Mulder said, "Scully, did you really
come up here tonight to eat pie?"

Her finger dipped down into the whipped cream on top of her
pie and she licked the filling off her index finger in
deliberate slowness. "I can't help it, I love pie. I love
you too, but I need pie right now."

He bit his lip, wanting to strangle her and ravish her at
the same time.

A tiny smile curled Scully's lips. "Do you want a bite of
my pie?"

Pie isn't what I want to taste right now, he thought, but
he nodded.

Again, her finger went into the chocolate filling and she
brought it to his mouth. Like a greedy child, he sucked
the sweet goo off her finger. He had to admit it, it was
damn fine pie.

"Do you like that?"

He again nodded, finding speech suddenly out of his grasp.

"Do you want some more?"

Another nod. My, he certainly was the master of
conversation.

Scully fed him another bite of pie off her finger and this
time he held it in his mouth, sucking desperately at her,
enjoying the sweet-salt combination of chocolate and flesh.
After he had had his fill, he said, "I like the pie,
Scully, but I think you taste better."

Her eyes opened wider. "Do you want to taste more of me?"

"God, yes."

She put the half-finished plate of pie on the bedside stand
and moved on top of him again, surrounding his body with
the softness of her thighs. His uncuffed hand, of its own
blind accord, moved up to stroke her breasts, cupping and
circling them each in turn. Scully threw her head back and
let out a soft sigh. Her nipples hardened under his
fingers and he longed to taste them, to feel their hard
points under his twitching tongue. As if reading his mind,
she moved in closer and he caught her left nipple between
his lips and she cried out at the sensation. This is
heaven, he thought, this is where I could spend the
evening, making Scully moan with just my mouth. He moved
his lips to her right nipple and found it just as delicious
as the left.

"So good," she crooned. "Do you know how wet I'm getting?"

A low thrill ran through Mulder's body and he came as close
as humanly possible to coming in a most undignified manner.
Don't even think about it, he told his penis, I didn't wait
six years to come all over her stomach like I did with
Angie Daley in the tenth grade. I'll never live it down if
I do that, so just calm yourself down and settle in for the
evening. Luckily, his penis seemed to listen to him for
once.

Scully shifted up a bit to kiss him, her mouth warm and
chocolately. He seized the opportunity to push her panties
down with his hand and brush against the dark red curls of
her mound. She was no liar, his hand slipped between the
folds of her vulva to find her slick as oil. "Touch me,"
she said into his neck, her tongue finding the sensitive
spot just underneath his earlobe, making him jerk as if
electrocuted. His fingers found her clitoris swollen and
hard and he slowly pushed it back and forth, her hips
urging him on, along with the little noises she continued
to make while sucking on his neck like a little Bela
Lugosi.

Even though he knew Scully wanted to be in charge of
things, he couldn't help saying, "Scully, I want to eat
you." God, that sounds so crass, he thought, but his mouth
needed to feel her, to taste her, to finally have that
knowledge.

She looked down at him, face rosy and eyes glittering. "I
can't refuse an offer like that," she said with a judicious
nod of her head. Lifting herself off his body, she eased
her panties all the way off and moved up. His heart was
beating madly as she straddled his face, her hands reaching
to brace on the headboard and her nylon-covered thighs
brushing along his neck.

Finally, finally, he thought, as his tongue traced the
outline of her wet cunt. Better than chocolate, much, much
better. In fact, she was the ultimate treat, savory and
syrupy, like French toast with bacon and even better,
because breakfast normally didn't make Scully buck her hips
into his face and make strangled sounds in the back of her
throat. And breakfast never involved her juices running
down his chin like butter and his fingers moving in and out
of her hot passage. Nope, Scully was far tastier and
better than any French toast and he vowed to have her for
breakfast every morning, starting the following morning.
Scully was just the thing to start his day.

Now he understood what his mother meant when she said, "It
is far better to give than to receive." Then again, what
kind of pervert thought about his mother while going down
on Dana Scully? Mulder re-applied himself to the task at
hand, stifling a grin.

Mulder heard her breathing quicken and under his tongue her
clitoris seemed suddenly bigger, fatter. "Don't you dare
stop," she threatened between pants and he took her warning
seriously, since he *was* the one in restraints. Stealing
a glance upward, he saw her head tilted back, her eyes
squeezed shut, a look of either pain or ecstasy on her
face. He decided the smart money was on ecstasy and felt
proud of himself. He remembered past lovers who looked as
if they'd rather be filing their nails while he went down
on them. Perhaps he had finally learned how to do it
right. Thank God for the "Joy of Sex", Dr. Ruth Westheimer
and Dan Savage, he thought. All those hours of research
were paying off.

With a sharp inhale of her breath, Scully came, contracting
around his fingers, her back stiffening, her legs quaking
around his head. It all came out in a sighing sound,
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhgoddddddddddddddd . . . " and he had never
been so happy to hear those words in his life. A smile
broke across his face as she slid down his body. Mulder
barely noticed his arm was starting to ache. A little pain
when he had made Scully come? Ache-schmake, a little
aspirin later and he'd be good as new.

Scully slid her damp and silky body across his, making him
shiver. "That was incredible," she said, her eyes
mischievous. "Definitely worth the wait."

Their mouths crashed together, their tongues, now good
friends, twining.

This makes it all worthwhile, he thought, mind suddenly
gone serious. The pain, the loss, now we're together and
for now, the world is as it should be.

Scully shifted her weight, and suddenly her pubic hair was
brushing against his patient cock. "Now?" he asked, his
voice coming out higher than he had wanted it to sound.

After swirling her tongue around his nipple, she lifted her
head and looked down at him. "Now."

With a quick shift of her bottom, he was suddenly in her,
buried to the hilt. Their eyes locked in astonishment.

Mulder was ashamed to find tears springing to his eyes. "I
never thought-" he gasped.

Tenderly, her hands brushed his hair. Scully nodded. "I
know, Mulder."

And then she began to move up and down on him, first with
tormenting slowness and caution, and then with a decisive
thrusting movement that made him bite his lip with the
sheer sensation of it. Then there was the sight, Scully,
his Scully now, moving up and down on his cock, her chest
flushed and her nipples a deeper red now, her hand moving
between her legs to touch herself, her head lolling from
side to side.

So this is why partners weren't supposed to have sex, he
thought, he was never going to be able to get any work done
with her, knowing what she looked like at such a moment.
He didn't even dare glance up at the ugly-ass mirror on the
ceiling, for fear of coming right there. The mirror would
have to be saved for another occasion.

And again, Scully came with that delicious shuddering
motion of hers and he felt his own pressure begin to reach
unbearable levels. Think of Julia Child naked, he thought,
think of Frohike's mother. But it was too late, he'd been
keeping himself in control for far too long. Mulder's eyes
shut and he felt the pulsating waves rushing through his
body, pleasure deeper than he could have imagined possible.
He might have shouted her name, too, but he wasn't entirely
sure, since all he could hear was a roaring in his ears
like the surf on the Cape.

And then he came back to a sort of reality, where he and
Scully were now lying together, sticky and sweaty and
smelling wonderfully of sex. She lightly kissed him. "I
love you," she said, her eyes serious.

He smiled. "I love you too," he said. "But if you really
loved me, you'd do something for me."

Again, the famous eyebrow. "What's that?"

"Unlock me, my arm hurts."

Scully's mouth opened. "Oh shit!" She sat up and smacked
herself on the forehead.

Mulder's mouth opened. "Oh shit, what?"

She shook her head rapidly from side to side. "You're
going to kill me, Mulder," she moaned, her face now beet
red. "I left the keys in the office."

He shouted in dismay and-

The room twisted and twirled and became the inside of
Scully's Corolla. She was in the driver's seat and they
were parked outside his building. "What the hell?" he
said, his heart pounding away, sweat suddenly beading his
forehead.

Scully ruffled his hair with her fingers. "Mulder, you
fell asleep almost the minute we left the House of Pies.
You were having a dream, and a mighty good one, if I do say
so." She pointedly looked in the direction of his crotch
and he noticed just how visible his erection was under the
glare of the street light.

"Oh God," he said, face turning red.

"It's okay," she said and smiled.

They got out and awkwardly stood by her car. He wondered
if she'd mind if he kissed her.

Scully smiled and looked downward, a shy look on her face.
"Mind if I come up?"

He nodded, and a grin spread across his face. "Of course
not," he said. "But why don't you bring the pie up with
you?"

END

My thanks and appreciation to Sharon and PD for beta
services rendered and being picky in all the right ways.
And also, to the Houston Gang (Alanna, Gwen and Kirsten)
for buying me a wonderful French Silk pie for my birthday
from, you guessed it, the House of Pies.

And Miss Stoy, where is *my* Christmas present? ;-)


Bonus recipe!

Tastier Than Scully French Toast

8 slices of stale French bread
4 eggs
1 cup of milk
2 T of Grand Marnier
2 T sugar
tsp. Vanilla
tsp. Salt
2 T butter
Confectioner's sugar, sliced strawberries and oranges for
garnish

The night before, place the slices of bread in a baking
pan. Mix the rest of the ingredients except the butter and
garnishes together and pour over the bread. Cover and
refrigerate overnight. Go off to bed with the partner of
your choice and have a very nice time, indeed.

In the morning, wake your lover up in that *special* way.
Roll out of bed for a nice shower and brush your teeth
until they sparkle. Head off for the kitchen where your
lover has thoughtfully made coffee and have a cup while
frying the bread in hot butter until crisp and brown on
both sides. Serve hot, sprinkled with the sugar and
garnished with the fruit. Go back to bed with your lover
and spend a lazy morning with the newspaper.

Serves four, but you aren't that kinky. Are you? <g>

Bon appetit!

All feedback gratefully received at dashak@aol.com



Dasha K.

Admitting your fanfic problem is the first step...

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