The File
By Raine
rain@isomedia.com
Rating: NC-17

Clich‚'s anyone? I've read a lot of stories like this one, so please
forgive me if you have, too. It's just something I couldn't resist doing
for myself.

Disclaimer: Chris Carter, 1013, and/or FOX own the characters of Mulder and
Scully. I'm using them without permission, but mean no copyright
infringement. No money is being made (by me, anyway).

Category: SR

Authors note: I normally hate writing these, but I feel compelled to add one
here.Be warned, this is a piece of MSR mind candy, nothing more. So if you
don't like the idea of Moose and Squirrel doing horizontal dances of any
kind, and/or want a substantial plot, look elsewhere. Far, =far= elsewhere,
in fact.  My friend Jen convinced me to post this, any flames will be
forwarded directly to her. Teehee.Hear that, girl? ;-)

Archive: If you really want to.wherever.
*****************************************************

Dana Scully finished typing for the night, stretching her hands with a sigh.
After ten hours at work doing paperwork, she honestly didn't know why she
felt compelled to open her laptop again at home and start in on her journal.

She smiled slightly as she scraped her half-eaten dinner into the garbage
disposal, flipping the switch to hear the remains being digested in the
steel bowels of the machine. Actually, it wasn't all that complex if you
took the time to think about it. It was easier than girlfriends to confide
in, which would necessitate a social life, and cheaper than a therapist.
Less dangerous as well. Enemies of her or her partner, Mulder, might pay off
anyone she might open up to. She sighed. It wasn't an issue anyway, since
she had no time for anything other than work. Her life, subtracted to its
parts, consisted of career and Mulder, dashes of Mom, and more work.

The petite red head turned out all the lights but the one in her bathroom.
For some reason, she'd developed a superstition about that room. As long as
she left the lights on, she was fine. It was a frivolous fear for a FBI
agent, especially one who'd seen the horrors she had. However, it was nice
to know she could still be afraid, so she didn't question it too closely.
Being afraid meant she was still alive inside. She reached her bedroom,
pulled down the thick covers of her queen-sized bed and curled up into
sleep.

Scully woke sweating, the covers thrown to the end of the bed. The dream
that woke her was the same she'd been having for the last several weeks.
There were a few small variations, but the main portion was unvarying.

She'd thought that recording it faithfully would help purge it from her
subconscious and eliminate the problem, but it didn't seem to be working.
Scully feared the feeling generated by the dreams might be growing past the
ability of her journal to command.

Nonetheless, she padded into her living room to collect her laptop, still in
the oversized Knicks jersey she'd fallen asleep in. It reminded her of
Mulder, although she wouldn't have admitted that was the reason she wore
it. To anything other than her journal, that was. She sat cross-legged on
her bed and began to type, knowing she would pay for it in the morning, but
also realizing there would be no sleep if she didn't express herself
somehow.
XXXXXX
Next day
J. Edgar Hoover Basement

Mulder sat on the edge of his desk waiting for his partner. She finally came
in, uncharacteristically late. Small purple blotches ringed her eyes, and
her manner was more subdued than usual. Dana poured herself a mug of strong
coffee and settled into her paperwork. Mulder observed her movements over
his glasses. Finally, he spoke.

"How are you, Scully?"

She shrugged. "I'm fine, Mulder. What's that?" Scully nodded at the file
in his hands. He glanced down at it and slowly grinned.

"For breakfast, we have a lovely main course of sky-based light sightings
with a delicious side dish of cattle exsanguinations. As a complementary
sauce, we have a rural town and some homey closed-mouthed townsfolk,
including an uncooperative sheriff. Sound tasty?"

She only nodded tiredly, and asked, "Where and when?"

"Today, and Desolate, Montana."

"I still can't believe they deliberately named a town Desolate. Although it
does seem appropriate." Scully remarked after they got back from the site of
the latest `exsanguination'. There were no witnesses to the lights other
than the old woman who originally called the Enquirer where Mulder had
picked up the lead.

The woman died two days before they arrived. They had, in fact, timed it
perfectly to attend her funeral. Apparently, she'd been something of a
local celebrity for her insistent claim that she'd been sleeping with the
ghost of Elvis for the last seven years.

Mulder released a deep breath as he lowered his lanky frame crosswise onto
the hotel bed. "Don't even say it, Scully."

"Say what," She replied innocently, "That the only person who saw the
phenomenon we were here to investigate is buried six feet under with a stack
of Elvis picture clippings and a collectors 45 of `Love Me Tender'?"
Scully's face was placid and staring at the cracked plaster ceiling of the
hotel room. Her voice was musing, thoughtful, her fingers steepled. "Or
perhaps that the cattle `exsanguinations' turned out to be nothing but
some overzealous cow-tippers with new jack knives? Or, better yet, let see,
could it be."

"Enough already." Mulder groaned. "I should never have taken the case, okay?
I should have known that the Sheriff wasn't being uncooperative, just
truthful. Would you like me to say it on my knees?" His voice was mock
pleading.

Dana was thoughtful for a second, and she answered in the same tone. "One of
these days, I'm going to take you up on that offer." Her blue eyes sparkled
with repressed humor. She rose, stretching, hearing her back pop in several
places. "Good night, Mulder."

As Scully exited via the adjoining door she heard, "Sorry lady, one per
customer, come back again." She laughed softly and pulled the door quietly
shut behind her.

Mulder lay back against the headboard of the hotel bed, shifting irritably
against the lumps in the mattress. Finally he got comfortable, and crossed
his long bare legs in front of him, flipping through the channels until he
found one he liked. He kept the volume low so he wouldn't disturb his
sleeping partner.

Shortly, he found himself watching intently as Officer Sarah handcuffed a
very cooperative suspect and spread his legs to be frisked. Thoroughly
frisked. She tossed her mane of red hair over her shoulder as her hands
again checked the now-grinning man for concealed weapons. Well, you could
say a lot of things about Desolate, Montana, but you couldn't fault their
porn, Mulder mused.

The dark-haired man lounged in the dark with his eyes on the screen. Sarah
and the man were both steadily losing clothes. He started suddenly and muted
the TV, thinking he heard something from Scully's room. Nothing. The moment
the volume came back on, though, he thought he heard it again. Moaning.
Again, he muted, and again the sound was gone. He turned the TV completely
off in disgust and frustration and lay in the silent dark.

Finally, he heard it. It =was= a low moaning, and it was coming from Scully
's room. It didn't sound like she was in trouble, just dreaming. A
pleasant dream, from the sounds of it. The sound drifted through the
adjoining wall and made a beeline to his nether regions. He sighed, running
a hand over his tired face. Sleep was now an impossible fancy. Mulder felt
wired, edgy. He mused that he may as well sublimate some of his excess
energy and begin the inevitable report. Skinner would surely demand one
tomorrow.

Mulder collected Scully's laptop from the table next to the window where
she'd left it. He hated carrying his own around. Besides, his partner would
be so pleased that he actually typed out a report that he knew she wouldn't
mind if he used hers.

He flipped the computer open, blessing Whomever lay above that the sound
from Scully's room had stopped. It was hard enough to look at her, day in
and day out, keeping his actions toward her polite and platonic. He
definitely didn't want to know she was dreaming about some other man. He
swallowed hard and forced his thoughts to work.

Mulder stared at the desktop of the small screen, trying to orient himself.
Finally he chose an icon at random. His brow furrowed at the password
prompt. Maybe she was just being cautious in case her laptop was misplaced.
She wouldn't keep anything in there from him, surely. He thought for a
moment, and tried, `Melissa'. No. He thought again and typed, `Spooky2'
Nope. Mulder smiled slightly. Kind of egotistical on his part, anyway. His
slender fingers typed, almost without thinking, `Queequeg'.

He was in, and almost immediately he realized it wasn't what he'd thought.
On the heels of that thought was another, that he had no business wherever
he was. He might even have exited if he hadn't seen his name. Mulder's
eyes went very wide as he read, beginning with the last entry, dated one day
previous.

It happened tonight again. I seem to dream like this more often when Mulder
and I leave on a case than when we're in DC. Maybe it's the strange
environment combined with the stress.I should stop even trying to
contemplate it. I just keep thinking that if I can isolate the factors, I
can control it. The fear I'm beginning to have, though, is that I don't
really want to.

More and more now, they begin to run over into waking life. He and I will be
standing there, interviewing some suspect or witness, when it happens. I'll
picture his large hands running over my body, sliding downward, or I'll
start staring at his full lips. I long to take them in between two of my own
and slip my tongue in between them, tasting him, as I press my body full
against his.

All of my fantasies are getting in the way of seeing Mulder like I should,
as a partner and a friend, no more. God. I can't even feel ashamed anymore.
I need to control myself, if these get much worse, I'm going to humiliate
myself and ruin the relationship we do have. -DS

Mulder flipped backward, hitting the `page up' key until he found what he
was looking for. He squinted at the tiny-lit screen and read intently.
Xxxxxxxxxxx

The next day

Scully emerged from the hotel room, carrying her bag and shutting the door.
Her eyes were again ringed slightly, but her manner was calm as she faced
her partner. He was holding her laptop underneath his arm. One in the rental
car, he offered it to her.

"Here. You left it in my room last night." With that, he pulled out the car
and began the drive for the airport. Scully was too tired to give it much
thought. Sleep had eluded her the whole night. She rested the computer on
the back seat and watched the scenery drift by. Her partner interrupted her
mindless contemplation.

"Did you sleep well last night, Scully? You look tired." Mulder's face was
nothing but sincere.

"Um. Not really, I guess. I kept waking up. You know how it is." Scully
stared fixedly out the window.

"I do, Scully. You know I have problems sleeping sometimes. It's been hard
for me to sleep for a long time. I almost consider myself an expert." He
laughed self-deprecatingly, then asked suddenly, "Was it a dream?" Mulder
watched her reaction closely.

Through her tiredness, Scully was growing alarmed. She didn't like the way
this conversation was heading, not at all, no sir. She answered shortly,
"Yes." Normally, her curt tone would have ended the discussion, but Mulder
kept talking. The intangible sense of alarm grew within her. Mulder's voice
was carefully neutral.

"Oh. Well, you know, sometimes it helps to talk about it."

"Umph." Acknowledgement that there had been a question of sorts, but no
answer in return. Mulder mercifully let the topic go. She pulled out her
laptop again on the flight home when she thought he was asleep. He noted it
and fell asleep for real, his dreams very vivid ones of Special Agent Dana
Scully.
Xxxxxxxxx

Two days later

Scully stepped into her apartment, locking the door behind her. It had been
a long night with the family at her mother's house, a solid four hours of
subtle and not-so-subtle confrontation. `Why do you have to work for the
FBI, Dana?' `Isn't you job dangerous?' `What is it you investigate
again, =exactly=?' `Wouldn't you be making more money if.'

On and on and on from her brothers, especially her older brother Bill. Worst
of all, her mother hadn't raised a finger to stop him. She slumped and
placed her forehead head against the cool wood of the closed apartment door.
The apartment was dark and silent around her. Scully finally looked up and
realized that she must have forgotten to leave a light on. She reached out
to flick the switch.

"Don't." One whispered word. Scully froze momentarily, then pulled her Sig
with one smooth motion from her purse, pointing it in the direction of the
voice.

"You have exactly one second to tell me who you are and what you are doing
here." Adrenaline made her voice harsh and commanding.

"It's me." Scully's eyes were beginning to adjust to the darkness, and she
could see the outline of her partner in the large chair next to the sofa.
She exhaled the breath she'd inhaled what seemed like an hour ago and set
her weapon down on the small table by the door. Again she reached for the
light.

"Leave it off."

This was growing bizarre. Adrenaline was rising again in her. She needed to
turn on the light. This was entirely too much like one of her.Realization
hit Scully with an almost audible thud. She could feel raw fear and a sick
embarrassment grow in the pit of her stomach.

"You know." Her voice was a strangled whisper. "How." She couldn't raise
her inflection enough to make it a question. All feeling seemed to have
drained from her body.

The shape of her partner rose, merging into the darkness so she wasn't sure
where he began and ended. As he drew closer, she saw he was wearing all
black. It was an outfit that she had commented about at some length in her
journal. It consisted of form-fitting black jeans, a black turtleneck, and
black boots. She couldn't see his black leather jacket, but guessed dizzily
that it was around somewhere. She could smell him, the faint musk of cologne
and another, spicier small underneath. Mulder responded, stopping less than
an arms-length from her. His voice was a low rasp, sending shocks down her
spine.

"I was bad, Dana. I read your journal. Didn't anyone ever tell you not to
use names of pets for passwords? It's one of the first things a hacker
checks." He moved a half-step closer, talking into the space between her
lowered head and his. Scully could feel his breath on the side of her ear.
He continued. "Embarrassingly common, Agent Scully. That kind of thing could
be disappointing from someone of your intelligence."

At her silence, Mulder moved even closer. The space between them contracted
to a hand's width. He breathed in her perfume deeply, noting that her
stance was becoming unsteady. He placed a hand on her shoulder, feeling her
shudder in response. He leaned inward further, whispering into her ear. "But
I wasn't disappointed. In fact, I'm kind of grateful." Mulder's tongue
shot out and touched lightly just underneath her earlobe. His lips followed
shortly behind, brushing the same sensitive spot. He continued. "I just wish
I had known before."

Scully's knees weakened slightly, and she swayed into him. Her world
compacted itself to include only his smell and the feel of his body against
hers. Mulder was so much closer than he'd ever been. She could sense the
strength of his lean body underneath the layer of clothes he wore, and the
thought made her pleasantly moist and sensitive.

God, she wanted him. She should be mad that he'd invaded her privacy, but
she couldn't find it in herself to be angry. Whatever had resulted in this
kind of pleasure was fine with her right now. Her skin was covered with
dozens of electric prickles. She couldn't believe Mulder was capable of
causing these sensations without even really touching her. Well, actually,
she could.Hadn't she been dreaming about this very thing for months?

Mulder looked at the petite woman standing in front of him. In the darkness,
he couldn't see her face clearly, but from her silence and breathing, it
was clear he was having an effect on her. Mulder changed his tone,
deliberately speaking in the brisk tones he normally used for work. He
wanted to be sure.

"Do you really want what I read in your journal, Scully? Tell me now, and I
'll leave if that's what you want." He paused, and added more softly, "I
hope you don't though, because I really want you. I have since I met you."

Scully stared up at him, aroused and stunned beyond belief. Her wide eyes
searched his face in the darkness for conflicting evidence to his words and
found none. Her partner simply stood there, waiting with his arms crossed,
head cocked to one side. She shook her head slightly to reinstate the power
of speech, and said, "Yes." Her voice came out in a low, husky rasp.

It was all he needed. In a second, he was on her, capturing her mouth with
his, pulling her into his arms. Scully's arms slipped around his chest as
he pressed her up against her front door, his lips pressing and releasing in
a gradually more brutal kiss. She responded in kind, her need for him even
greater than she had realized. His denim-covered thigh slid between hers,
making the long cotton dress she'd worn ride up. Already, she could feel
him like steel, pressing against her belly.

Mulder hands loosened the jacket she wore, slipping it off her shoulders to
land in a puddle at her feet next to her purse. They drifted downward to her
covered breasts, and backward to unzip her dress. Small sighs of frustration
escaped from them both.

Scully's hands weren't idle. She reached downward to unzip his jeans,
snaking her small hand into his jeans and boxers to grasp his silken heat.
Mulder gasped jaggedly and jerked downward on her dress, sending it the way
of her jacket.

She stood there before him, flushed and gasping in her demure lace
underwear. The only light came from cracks in the drawn blinds, slanting
over her heaving chest, making her skin translucent. Mulder looked at her,
his breathing labored. She was so beautiful, small and unbelievably erotic.
The pull she was having on him was incredible. Of course, it didn't hurt
that she had a physical grasp on him as well. Her small hand squeezed
gently, bringing him back. She stared at him, a wicked grin on her face.

"Well, are you going to stand there all day? Get busy, Mulder." Dana removed
her hand, causing him to groan aloud, and used both of them to help him
remove his pants while he flicked off her bra. His tongue and mouth explored
her exposed full flesh. He grasped one hardened nipple and suckled softly
while his other hand brushed her free nipple with the flat of his palm,
moving it to one angle, then the other. Scully whimpered. Shocks ran down
from her partner's wet mouth to the swollen crevice between her legs,
causing an insistent throbbing.

Their movement became even more frenzied, and soon they were nude. Mulder
could feel her moist warmth pressed against his thigh, causing him to twitch
involuntarily in an effort to find more. He knew he wouldn't last much
longer. They stumbled over toward her couch a few steps, unwilling to part.
Mulder chuckled softly. Or, at least, that's what he meant to do. It came
out as an almost desperate laugh. God, what had she done to him? He picked
Scully up bodily and set her, stunned, onto the couch. He looked down at
her. They locked eyes, and she nodded imperceptibly.

He sank into a tight sheath of unbelievable warmth and moisture, crying out
at the overwhelming sensation. Scully grasped him from behind with her legs,
pulling him as far as possible into her. Her eyes were slit, her mouth wet
and slightly open. Her head began to move, dragging her hair across the
couch as her body arched into the sensation coming from below. Mulder thrust
into her, slowly at first, then more fiercely, grinding her into the couch.
He moved her legs gradually upward until they were both almost screaming
with pleasure.

He rubbed her slick bud as they came together, sending her spiraling over
the edge. She screamed, "Mulder, Oh God.God, Mulder." The feeling of her
clamping down on him forcefully as she came was too much. He jumped over the
cliff with her, groaning, ".love you." He collapsed, attempting with
limited success to keep from squashing the small woman underneath him.

She hugged him fiercely, and after Mulder recovered, he gathered her up in
his arms, moving so they were spooned side by side. The two were silent for
a second. Finally, Scully spoke softly, not turning to look at him.

"Mulder, if you didn't mean.If you didn't mean it, I'll understand. It
was intense, and." She was forced to stop talking as he tipped her chin
gently with one finger. He grasped her lips, initiating a passionate kiss.
When they came up for air, he replied firmly.

"I meant it, Dana Scully. I `ve meant it for four years without having the
courage to say it. Okay?" She nodded, taking his lips and other areas
simultaneously. There would be time to respond more thoroughly later.

-END-
--
"Probably something I ate."- Conundrum the Geek