TITLE: First Times AUTHOR: Lara Means E-MAIL: LaraMeansXF@aol.com WEBSITE: http://larameansxf.tripod.com/ RATING: NC-17 CATEGORY: MSR CLASSIFICATION: SRA SPOILERS: Little tiny ones for everything up through Season 6; specifically for the Pilot, Fire, Lazarus, Anasazi, Pusher, Wetwired, Memento Mori, Small Potatoes, Redux II, Travelers, The End and Dreamland II. SUMMARY: Scully forces Mulder to deal with the Eddie Van Blundht incident and gets more than she may have bargained for. (Set immediately after Small Potatoes.) DISCLAIMER: "The X-Files" is copyright Twentieth Century Fox Television and Ten Thirteen Productions. The show, its premise and characters were created by Chris Carter and are used here without permission. No copyright infringement is intended, no profit will be realized. (I've also borrowed the name of a character from Carter's "Millennium" as a pseudonym. Same disclaimer applies.) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "I don't imagine you need to be told this, Mulder, but... you're not a loser." "Yeah, but I'm no Eddie Van Blundht, either." A slight pause. "Am I." A statement. Not open for discussion. (Shit. Did I say the wrong thing?) He walked on, picked up the pace a bit. He didn't hold the door for her, but he did wait by the car for her to catch up. He didn't speak on the drive back to the office. Neither did she. She didn't know what to say. (It's been a month. We've got to talk about this.) Back in their basement office, he busied himself with paperwork while she thumbed through the latest issue of the Journal of Clinical Oncology. Neither of them acknowledged the elephant in the room. After a long while she glanced over at him -- he was staring off into space, a pencil in his mouth. "Mulder?" He seemed a little startled. "What?" "You've never asked me about what happened." His eyes flicked to hers, then flicked away. "I read your report." Ah, yes. Her report. Wherein she had to explain -- for the record, for their boss -- that she'd shared a bottle of wine and intimate conversation with a suspect who somehow looked exactly like her partner. She didn't bother to mention that the man she thought was her partner was about to kiss her when the *real* Mulder kicked her door in. Besides, the AD himself had sat across the desk from him earlier -- and apart from two unfortunate spelling errors, *he* couldn't tell them apart either. Even so, Skinner had fixed her with a long, hard, intense stare after he read her report, and she had turned several colorful shades of red waiting for his reply -- which was simply, "Thank you, Agent Scully, that'll be all." Scully blushed anew at the mention of it. "Mulder, you know there was more to it than that." He looked at her now, something unreadable in his eyes. Something hard, and a little hurt. "Don't tell me you turned in an incomplete report, Agent Scully." "Mulder..." "Look." He stood abruptly and strode to the filing cabinet. "The case is closed." A file drawer yanked open. A folder pulled. "I don't want to discuss it." Slam. Stride. Sit. Open. (Fine. You don't want to deal with it, I'm certainly not going to force you.) They passed the rest of the afternoon in silence. The next day wasn't much better. They exchanged good mornings, briefly discussed a case Skinner wanted them to consult on, asked each other questions about their expense reports. At 4:53 p.m., he started making packing-up noises. She knew she had to say something. Anything. "So Mulder. You have plans for tonight?" His eyes narrowed a little. "Probably what I do most Friday nights -- order Chinese, watch a couple movies, fall asleep on the couch." "How's that different from the rest of the week?" She smiled a bit, teasing, waited for him to tease back. He didn't. "The rest of the week I order pizza." And he was gone. (Damn. Why is he making this so hard?) Parking the car outside his apartment building, she felt a little flutter of nervousness. She'd made sure *not* to wear the same sweater she'd worn that night, instead choosing a deep shade of blue. She knew he liked her in blue. (What if this backfires? How can we hope to get past Eddie Van Blundht then?) She almost didn't get off the elevator on the fourth floor, but the old lady going up to six had seen her push the button. She slowed as she neared his apartment, the butterfly wings in her stomach flapping like crazy. She took a deep breath and knocked. "Scully. What's up?" He was barefoot, wearing those soft well- worn jeans she loved, and a dark brown brushed cotton shirt that brought out the gold flecks in his eyes. Those eyes that looked at her now with suspicion and mistrust. She smiled a little, not-so-suddenly hesitant. "Nothing. I just... thought I'd drop by. Is this a bad time?" He just looked at her, evaluating her. Then he stepped back and held the door open. As she came in, he spied the bottle of wine she had tucked behind her. "What's this?" She held it out to him. "It's called wine, Mulder. Made from grapes, fermented a little..." He took the bottle as he closed the door behind her. "Chardonnay. That should've been your first clue." He walked into the kitchen without looking at her. She blinked at him, realization dawning. Van Blundht had brought a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon. Mulder didn't like Cabernet -- in fact, they were both partial to Merlot when they drank red wine. She'd missed that detail that night -- and the thousand times she replayed it since. She'd grabbed the bottle of Chardonnay tonight because she knew it was his favorite. She followed him to the kitchen, leaned in the doorway as he searched for a corkscrew, his back to her. "You're right. I should've noticed." He paused as she said it, then found the corkscrew. He opened the wine without a word, grabbed some glasses -- then he finally looked at her. "After you." He waited for her to go into the living room ahead of him. He sat next to her on the couch and poured wine for them both. She took a sip -- it was chilled and crisp, and it warmed her throat going down. Mulder gulped his as if it were a shot of whiskey. He was back to avoiding her gaze. "What are you doing here, Scully?" "I thought we could talk." He refilled his glass. "If I say 'about what,' are you gonna say 'Eddie Van Blundht'?" "No." She hoped that came out as firmly as she intended. "Okay then." He raised his glass to his lips, sipping more slowly this time. "About what?" She let out the breath she'd been holding. "You. Me." She looked over at him. "Us." He steadfastly avoided looking at her. He just sipped his wine and said, "That's what you talked about with him? Us?" (What, you can talk about him but I can't? Screw that.) "How long are you going to punish me for this?" "How exactly am I punishing you, Scully?" Innocence dripping with sarcasm. But she'd had enough. "Fuck you, Mulder." She stalked toward the door. "If this is how you want to play it, fine. You'll have my request for transfer on your desk first thing Monday." "Scully." Her hand was on the doorknob. "Don't." There was a different quality to his voice now. "Please." She waited, not moving, not looking at him. After a moment he spoke again, his voice thick. "You were sitting there, about to kiss him. How was I supposed to react?" (*Finally*.) She leaned into the door and sighed. She turned slowly -- he still wouldn't look at her. "From where I was sitting, Mulder... I was about to kiss *you*." He looked up at that, his eyes narrow, his voice hurt. "That why you jumped a mile when I came in?" "When you kicked my door in, you mean?" She sounded more harsh than she intended. She took a deep breath, tried to calm down. "No, Mulder. I jumped... I jumped because you were in two places at once and my brain couldn't process that right away." He didn't say anything for a moment, looked away from her again. "Besides, you'd been drinking, right?" His voice had an accusatory tone now. "Yes, Mulder, I'd been drinking. But later..." "Later what, Scully?" Softer now, but still not the Mulder she knew. She squeezed her eyes shut. "Later..." She sighed, frustrated. "I let him fool me, Mulder. I'm an intelligent, educated woman, and I was no different than Amanda Nelligan thinking that Luke Skywalker was the father of her baby. I felt so... stupid. Ashamed. And..." (And what, Dana? Go ahead, tell him.) "Disappointed." She opened her eyes and looked at him, to find him watching her intently. "Because it wasn't you." He blinked at her, opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. After a bit he found the words. "You *wanted* it to be me?" "Why else would I have been sitting there talking to you -- *him*?" He looked away, didn't say anything for a moment. Then... "What did you tell him?" There was an almost sad vulnerability in his voice now. Scully's heart was tight in her chest. (Mulder, you precious idiot, it's not about him. Can't you see that?) She shook her head, took a few steps into the room. "I don't want to go there, Mulder. I'd rather start fresh -- with the real thing." That got a trace of a lopsided grin from him. She joined him on the couch, held out her glass for him to refill. Some time later they'd finished half the bottle of wine and learned that... ...Mulder was sort of a jock in high school, lettering in both baseball and basketball. Scully wondered idly if his basketball team had worn the same tight shorts the boys on her high school teams had worn -- then she shivered at the thought of him in a snug-fitting baseball uniform. Even in his mid-thirties, Mulder still had an athlete's body. She loved to watch him move, to imagine his muscles rippling beneath the wool blend of his Armani trousers... Scully shook off the image with difficulty and made Mulder promise to find his yearbook, which was in storage somewhere in the basement of his mother's house. ...Scully was something of a wild woman in college, partying and sometimes running with a dangerous crowd. Having grown up a Navy Brat, not to mention a Good Catholic Girl, college provided her with an opportunity to rebel that she grabbed with gusto. Mulder was stunned to learn that, as a freshman, she'd been in a college production of "Hair" -- nude scene and all. His eyes traveled up and down her body, and she had the distinct feeling he was trying to see through her clothes. She smiled and tossed an innuendo his way -- that seemed to stun him almost as much as the image of her naked at nineteen. ...Mulder was very lonely after his sister was taken. This revelation didn't come out in anything specific he told her, more in the way he talked about his childhood, both before and after Samantha. She knew his parents had divorced shortly after it happened, but she hadn't known the depth of his pain and isolation. That's when it started, she realized. The guilt. His parents cut him off emotionally, so his twelve-year-old mind decided it was because he was responsible for Samantha's disappearance. Knowing this made her heart ache for him. ...Scully had almost married Jack Willis. She met him while still at the Academy, where he was one of her instructors. He was older, her first post-college, post-med school boyfriend, and she was mesmerized. "It wasn't until after I graduated from the Academy and was no longer his student that I realized how controlling he was." "I can't imagine anyone controlling you, Scully." "Jack certainly tried. He had a very specific vision of what our life together would be like -- the white picket fence, four or five kids, and me as a stay-at-home mom." Something flickered across his face that she couldn't read, but he quickly shook it off. "He met you at the Academy. He didn't realize you were serious about your career?" She shook her head. "It got to the point where he threatened to give me a bad performance review if I didn't quit. That's when I ended it." She was silent for a moment. "That case we worked together a few years ago -- that was the first time I'd seen him in nearly a year." Willis had died on that case. Mulder put a hand on her arm to comfort her, but she just shook her head again. "It's not like that anymore, Mulder. I mean, I'm sad that he's gone, but... Now I just file Jack Willis under Dana's Stupid Mistakes." "Can't be much in that file." "One or two things." He took a sip of wine. "I've got you beat, then." She looked at him, questioning. "Mulder's Stupid Mistakes file is subdivided - - People, Places, Things. There's even a hierarchy in the People category." "Bet I know who's number one." He waited, a slight smile on his lips. "Phoebe Green." Mulder laughed softly. "Phoebe's right up there -- number two, in fact." He grew quiet. "Did I ever tell you why I broke up with her?" She shook her head. "She cheated on me -- often. But the proverbial last straw was catching her in bed with my best friend." "Oh, Mulder..." "Then she told me she'd only been with me to get to him." Scully took his hand, and he held it tightly. He consciously lightened his tone. "That's when I saw her for the manipulative bitch that she was and dumped her ass." "Smart move." She gave his hand a squeeze, and he held on. After a moment... "Who's number one?" He let go of her hand, leaned forward to refill their glasses. "Now *that's* a story." Then, softly, "You sure you want to hear it?" "If you want to tell it, Mulder." He looked at her and nodded, sipped his wine. He stared into the glass and grew very quiet. "You almost got married. I actually did it." If he'd been looking at her, he'd have seen the stunned surprise on Scully's face. She didn't say anything, just waited for him to continue. "It was right before I found the X-files, when I was with Violent Crimes. I had just started to remember things... about Samantha. But it was before the regression hypnosis." She'd heard the tapes, knew how vulnerable he was then. But she wasn't prepared for what he said next. "She was with the Bureau. She was my partner." (Wow. That explains so much, Mulder. Why you flirt but won't cross your own imaginary line. Why you won't let either of us get close.) "She seemed really interested in what I was uncovering. All those unsolvable cases. She was a believer." (And I was a skeptic they sent to spy on you.) "So we got married." He laughed softly. "Seemed like a good idea at the time." He didn't say anything for a long moment, so Scully did. "What happened?" "She was reassigned. Europe, international terrorism. We didn't know for how long. So, rather than try to maintain a long- distance marriage that didn't have any real basis other than the work, we ended it. The whole thing lasted less than six months." He was still leaning forward, elbows on his knees. Scully reached out and rubbed his back lightly, then laid her head on his shoulder. "Later on I figured out that her transfer was because of me. We worked well together. They wanted to slow me down, so they got rid of her. I worked alone for awhile -- then they sent you." Her hand was on his arm and he laced his fingers with hers. They'd been touching each other more in the past year, since the Modell case. Since he'd put his weapon -- her life, and his -- in her hands. "You were a surprise, after her. Her polar opposite. And mine, really." He glanced at her then. "I knew why you were sent, even if you didn't at the time." She cocked an eyebrow, and a faint smile played at his lips. "To rein me in. To prove me wrong. But they didn't expect us to be so good together." He turned to look at her, stared into her eyes. "Yes, Agent Scully... you were quite a surprise. To everyone." She gave him a little smile, then brought the subject back around to him. "Was she your first love?" He gave out another soft laugh. "I don't think she qualifies as a love, first or otherwise." "You married her, Mulder. You must've felt something." He seemed to think about it a moment, then shook his head. "No." His eyes locked with hers and his voice went serious. "In retrospect, Scully... I didn't feel anything." The intensity of his gaze unnerved her. She shook herself mentally, tried to lighten things again. "Then who was your first love? Phoebe?" He got the message, and his eyes released her. He leaned back on the couch and grinned. "Cindy McKenna. Eighth grade." He wiggled his eyebrows at her. "There's just something about Catholic girls..." She smiled, blushed a little. "How 'bout you, Scully, who was your first love?" She leaned back too, sipped her wine. "Mr. Noble. My seventh- grade art teacher." He raised an eyebrow, a bemused smirk on his face. "Never pictured you as Lolita, Scully." "It was a harmless schoolgirl crush. He was gorgeous, though." (Looked a lot like you.) She glanced at him, a wicked grin on her face. "So... who was your first lover?" He choked on his wine. "What?" "Was it Cindy McKenna in the eighth grade?" A slow grin played at his lips. "I was precocious, but eighth grade's a little young, don't you think?" "You're avoiding the question, Agent Mulder." "No, it wasn't Cindy McKenna." He didn't continue. He just looked at her, amused. "Come on, Mulder..." Scully picked up the bottle of wine, leaned toward him to refill his glass. Her lips close to his ear, her voice dropped to a near whisper. "Tell me about your first time." She thought she felt a shiver run through him as she pulled away. She looked into his eyes, and she could've sworn they'd gone a little darker. "Her name was Allison. Allison Cavanaugh. I was fifteen, she was seventeen." "An older woman." "In the very best sense of the word." He paused, letting the memory play out in his mind. "After my parents divorced I spent summers with my father, usually at the house in Rhode Island. He was never there, of course, so I was on my own a lot." While he talked, Scully shifted on the couch, facing him, leaning in to him. He unconsciously shifted too after a bit, their knees touching. "Allison lived next door -- I was a lost cause the moment I saw her." "Beautiful, huh?" He nodded. "Tall, willowy, blonde..." "Not your type at all." A hint of teasing in her voice. He grinned. "Well, these days I'm partial to height-challenged redheads who carry big guns. But back then..." He sighed an exaggerated sigh, bringing a laugh from her. "So you were a complete idiot for this girl -- how did she feel?" "She didn't even know I was alive. It may be hard for you to believe now, Scully -- especially after hearing about my jock days -- but at fifteen I was pretty much a dork." She gasped playfully, and he smiled. "But Allison had a brother, he was fourteen -- I don't even remember his name now, but he became my new best friend." "So you could be near her." He nodded, lost himself in the memory again. "Allison used to sunbathe on their deck every day. She wore the tiniest bikini I've ever seen. I used to drag her brother outside all the time, just so I could look at her." Scully could almost feel his breath as he sighed, they were so close. She idly stroked his arm, her eyes glued to his face. "I was on major hormone overload the whole time. Just looking at her... I got so..." "Hard?" She said it lightly, but he didn't respond right away and she wondered if her teasing had gone too far. Mulder just smiled, a barely disguised hint of sensuality there. "I was gonna say aroused, but that works too." She grinned, and he continued. "Finally her brother got tired of fronting for me, so I lost my excuse to go over there. A few days later I'm sitting on my porch, reading or something equally dorky, when suddenly a shadow falls over me. And there was Allison. In these little short-shorts and a halter top and those long legs... I looked up at her and said hi, I think my voice cracked. And she said, 'Hi. Wanna fuck?'" Scully burst out laughing, and a hand flew to her mouth. "You're kidding!" He laughed too, shook his head. "It was so unexpected, that word from those lips. Somehow I croaked out a yes, she took me by the hand, led me to my bedroom, and she..." "Initiated you?" He glanced up, smirked. "Fucked me six ways from Sunday." And they both dissolved into a fit of laughter. "From that moment on, whenever our folks were away, we did it. Her bedroom, mine -- once in my dad's study. I'm sure that was me acting out. Her brother must have found a new friend, 'cause I don't remember seeing him again the rest of the summer." "What happened in September?" "I went back to my mom's, I think Allison went off to college... I never saw her again." He paused, smiled. "God, she taught me so much..." He looked up at Scully with a seductive grin. "Of course, I've added to that knowledge over the years." "I'm sure you have." "Care for a demonstration?" She smiled demurely. "Maybe later." Mulder looked pleasantly surprised. He leaned over to refill her wine glass. "Your turn." She raised an eyebrow. "I showed you mine, now you show me yours." "Mulder, are you coming on to me?" "Well, yeah... but I still want to hear about your first time." She smiled, took a sip of her wine. Stared into the glass for a long while. When she finally spoke, her voice had a trace of bitterness to it. "Mine wasn't anywhere near as pleasant as yours." She was silent again. "Scully?" Concerned, Mulder reached out and turned her face to him. There were a few tears in her eyes, and she willed them not to fall. "Hey... It's okay, you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." She shook her head. "No, I started this game." "Doesn't matter, if you don't want to..." She turned and pressed her lips to the hand that cupped her cheek, then took a deep breath. "Paul Manning. I was seventeen, he was eighteen." Mulder's hand dropped to rest on her thigh, and he caressed her arm with the other. "My junior prom, his senior. The prom was at this hotel, and Paul and his friends had chipped in for a room -- they told all the parents it was because they didn't want to drive home late, but..." "Paul had a plan." Scully nodded, sipped her wine, went on. "We'd done some things already -- or rather, *I'd* done some things..." "High school boys. They give the rest of us guys a bad name." She glanced at him, saw his small, gentle grin, went on. "Nobody told me what happens the first time a woman has sex. Apparently nobody told Paul, either." "Oh, man..." "He kept asking me if I was ready -- how the hell did I know, I'd never done it before. He just... pushed inside me, and he kept doing it, and it really *hurt*. And when he was finished and he saw... he... he was livid. He yelled at me, accused me of, of lying to him..." She broke off, suddenly embarrassed to be telling Mulder all this. He took her hand, and she knew it was okay. "He stormed out, I just lay there crying. I took a cab home, told Ahab that Paul got drunk -- if he'd known the truth, he'd have had him keel-hauled." "I'd have helped." Scully looked into his eyes. He meant it. Mulder's sense of righteous indignation had been sparked. She smiled at him, squeezed his hand. "Ahab would've liked you, Mulder." "You think?" She nodded. "Not as much as Mom does, of course." "Your mom likes me?" "My mom adores you." He looked a little awed. "Wow. I've never been adored by anybody's mom before." "Mulder, you are definitely adored by Maggie Scully." She paused a bit. "She's... she's really grateful for all the times you've been there for me. Especially now." (Since the cancer.) They just sat there awhile, leaning close, fingers entwined, his hand idly caressing her thigh. Finally... "I wish I'd been your first, Scully." She glanced at him, wondering where that came from. His eyes were soft and he smiled gently. His hand came up to touch her face. "I wouldn't have forced you to do something you weren't ready for. I wouldn't have yelled at you, or walked out on you. Scully, you... you deserve to be held... caressed... loved." His thumb smoothed across her cheek, his fingers traced her ears. They drew closer, and their lips came together in a soft, tender first kiss. She laid her forehead against his, felt his breath on her face. She unconsciously, nervously licked her lips, as did he. "Mulder..." "It's just a kiss, Scully." (No, Mulder. It could never be 'just' anything with you.) "I should go..." But she didn't move. His hands still cupped her face, and he drew her to him again. This second kiss was more charged than the first, and his tongue teased at her lips. Her own tongue darted out to meet his, and the effect on her was electric. She opened her mouth and drew him in to her, sucking on his full lower lip. He traced his tongue along the roof of her mouth and she moaned. His hands slipped into her hair, fingertips kneading her scalp. She brought her own hands up to his face, felt the stubble of his beard, the outline of his jaw. Finally they ended the kiss, both of them breathing heavily. Again, they stayed very close, still touching. "You should go, Scully..." She opened her eyes, stroked her fingers at his temples until he opened his too. "Don't want to." "No?" She gave her head a little shake. He smiled softly. "Good. 'Cause I don't want you to either." His smile faded a bit. "But I don't want you to do anything you're not ready for." "I want this, Mulder." She reached up and smoothed his hair. "I want you." He pulled her closer, covered her mouth with his. Their tongues danced, swirled. (God, the taste of him... he tastes like wine, and kung pao, and something else, something... Mulder. I could do this for hours... days...) His mouth left hers and she whimpered a bit, but the whimpers turned to moans as he trailed kisses down her neck. He nipped at her earlobe, tongued her ear, sucked at her throat. "Oh god Mulder... oh..." She felt him smile as he nibbled, felt his lips move as he spoke. "You like that?" "Can't you tell?" "I think I need a little more convincing." He shifted, headed toward the other side of her neck -- grazing her collarbones and the notch where they met her breastbone along the way. Scully groaned and arched a little, and she felt him smile again. "Yeah, I guess you do like that." He slipped his fingers under the neckline of her sweater and gently massaged her shoulders as his lips trailed back up to her face. Her hands roamed over his neck, his shoulders, his arms. But she needed to taste him again. She turned her face toward his, nudged his lips toward hers, plunged her tongue into his mouth. Then she began kissing his neck as she had been kissed -- and she heard him moan a little. "Scully, that... oh... umm..." "What's the matter, Mulder?" She smiled. "Cat got your tongue?" A husky laugh escaped him. "You had it a minute ago." She tore herself away from his throat, looked him in the eyes. "Can I have it back?" "Come and get it." His voice was rough, filled with barely concealed passion. They came together again, devouring each other. Her hands found the collar of his shirt -- the top buttons were open, revealing a nice expanse of his throat. But she wanted more, *needed* more. She needed to touch him, to feel his skin under her fingers. She fumbled with the remaining buttons while their mouths stayed joined. He brought his hands up to help her and they pulled apart. Together they finally got his shirt unbuttoned, and he moved to do the same with her sweater -- she nudged his hands away. "No. Not yet." She tugged at his shirt, pushed it off his shoulders and tossed it aside. They sat there facing each other on the couch, breathing hard. Her eyes took in his chest, and she sighed. "What?" He sounded a little nervous. "Too hairy, not hairy enough, what?" She smiled, not taking her eyes off his torso. "Mulder, I've seen your bare chest before. I shot you once, remember? Nursed you back to health?" "Yeah, but... that was Doctor Special Agent Scully. My partner." He swallowed hard. "This time... now it's different." (It *is* different now. I've kissed him, tasted him. Told him I want him. Everything changes from here on out.) She nodded. Took a deep breath. "It's different. But it isn't." He looked puzzled. "Mulder, you're the most beautiful man... You just don't know what you do to me." "What I do to..." "*Years*, Mulder... I can't tell you how many times I've wanted to lay my hands on those crisp white shirts... tear off those hideous ties... just let the buttons fly." "Scully, I had no idea... You don't like my ties?" She felt a laugh bubble up in her throat and he smiled. Then he took her hand in his and laid it on his chest. She could feel his heart beating, strong and powerful. She stretched her fingers up to touch the scar from her bullet. She moved toward him, gently placed her lips there. She felt rather than heard him sigh as she slid her lips across his chest, ran her fingers through the light dusting of hair. Her nails found his nipples and he groaned. She hummed a little and her mouth replaced her nails. "God... oh... Scully..." She smiled against him, thrilled that she could elicit such a response from him. She kept nipping and licking and sucking until he hissed and arched his back, buried his hands in her hair. "Christ, Scully..." "Didn't think you were a religious man, Mulder." "You'll make a believer out of me yet..." She pulled her lips away from his chest, ran her hands over his toned abdomen. He kissed her again -- a deep, soul-searing kiss -- then stared into her clear blue eyes. "My turn." A tiny grin played at her lips and she started to unbutton her sweater. He covered her hands with his, then pushed hers away and took over the task. Her sweater unbuttoned, she shrugged out of it and dropped it on the floor near his shirt. She sat before him, naked from the waist up except for her bra, a wisp of blue lace and satin. She reached around behind her to unhook it. "No." Mulder's voice was rough. He swallowed, licked his lips. Then, in a near-whisper, "No." She stopped and smiled a bit, thinking he wanted to take it off himself. But he simply reached out almost shyly and touched her breasts through the satin and lace. His touch was so tentative and gentle that she shivered under his fingers. "God, you're beautiful." She smiled again as he traced along the top of her bra with his thumbs, both of them meeting in the center. Then his fingers splayed out over her breasts, palms covering her nipples. He squeezed a little and they both felt her harden beneath his touch. "Mulder... that's..." His hands moved to her back and he unhooked the bra, slipping the straps off her arms and dropping it to the floor. Then he returned to caressing and fondling her breasts, lightly tracing her nipples. "That feels so nice..." "Just nice?" "Better than nice..." "How much better?" "I don't know, Mulder, I can't think with you doing that." "You think too much anyway, Scully." He kissed her lightly on the lips, then moved down her throat until his lips grazed the top of her breast. She moaned and arched under him as his tongue swirled around her nipple. Her fingers were in his hair and she held him to her, his fingers doing to one breast what his tongue and lips were doing to the other. Her head fell back and he slipped an arm around her waist to steady her. She was breathing deeply now, her breasts rising and falling, his mouth moving with her. He took her nipple between his teeth and she cried out -- he lapped at her with his tongue, then sucked her into his mouth. He shifted, and lavished the same attention to her other breast. (My god, Mulder... I knew you had an oral fixation, but *damn*...) He released her breast and began working his way up her throat to her lips. Her hands found his jeans -- she tugged at the waistband, got the top button undone. "Up. Stand up." Her voice was husky. "My, my. Aren't we demanding." "Yes. Stand up." He got to his feet, and she joined him a split second later. He started to unbutton his jeans but, as he had done with her sweater, she pushed his hands aside. "My turn." She had a wanton look in her eyes that matched his own. Scully's hand slid along the bulge in his jeans, feeling him grow harder at her touch. A groan escaped his lips and his breathing deepened as her nimble fingers took their time with the button fly, his cock twitching as each button was unfastened. "Scully, are you trying to kill me?" "'Course not. That wouldn't be any fun." His groan became a growl as she undid the last button, giving his erection some relief from the tightness that had confined it. She touched him through the silk of his boxers and he hissed out a word. "Fuck!" Scully smiled. "All in good time, Mulder." He shook his head as she shoved his jeans off his hips, revealing... "Mulder... are those... little green alien heads?" He nodded, eyes closed. A tiny laugh escaped her lips. "Scully, laughter at this point generally isn't conducive to a guy's ego." She caressed his ass, squeezed him a little -- he shivered at her touch. She still had a smile in her voice. "Can't help it. I think they're cute." "My ties are hideous, but my boxers are cute?" Her fingers encircled his cock through the silk and she began to stroke him. "Maybe it's what's inside them..." "Oh god..." She stroked him slowly, deliberately. "Mulder..." She got very close to him, her lips at his ear. "Have you ever... touched yourself... and thought about me?" His eyes flew open and he sought out her face. Her hand kept up its slow pace on his cock, and he glanced down to watch her. Breathing deeply, he nodded a little. Her fingers found the opening in his boxers and slipped inside. They both shuddered as she wrapped her hand around the silky steel length of him. He could feel her breath on his ear. "Do you just *think* about me, Mulder? Or do you imagine it's my hand stroking you..." She moved her hand slowly, up and down. His eyes fluttered shut. He tried to speak but couldn't. "My fingers gripping you..." Those fingers tightened around the base of his cock and a strangled cry escaped his lips. She drew her hand up the length of him, fingers tracing the ridge along the underside. "My lips wrapped around you..." Her thumb caressed the head of his penis, capturing the droplets of moisture there. He was trembling now, eyes squeezed shut -- then she felt his hand tighten on her wrist. "Stop. Now." She did as he asked -- demanded -- understanding what he wanted. She gently released him and stepped back a bit, just looking at him. He stood very still, eyes closed, fists balled at his side. He was still breathing hard, and his tongue darted out to lick his lips. He was willing himself to slow down, to fight his need. After a few moments, he opened his eyes. He focused, found her face. His eyes were dark with passion, hunger. (The way he looks at me... god... I could drown in those eyes...) His eyes locked with hers. He took off his jeans, then his boxers. Scully couldn't help herself -- her eyes drifted lower, widened at what she saw. She'd seen Mulder naked once or twice, but always in a medical context. But now... "See something you like?" His desire was evident in his voice, too. For her part, she couldn't seem to form a coherent response, so she just nodded. She began to sink to her knees, wanting -- needing -- to take him in her mouth. He caught her mid-movement. "Oh, no. No no no. You do that and this'll be over a lot quicker than I'd like." She looked up into his eyes again, saw a hint of a leer there. "My turn." His hands drifted from her shoulders over her breasts, trailing down her stomach to her jeans. He tugged and pulled her closer, unbuttoning the top button. Then he slowly drew the zipper down, revealing lacy blue panties that matched her bra. He eased her jeans over her hips and down, then traced his fingertips along the edges of her panties. He stepped closer, moved behind her, his erection pressing into her lower back. One arm went around her shoulders and he caressed her breasts, the fingers of his other hand slipped under the elastic of her panties. She shuddered as he brushed the cinnamon curls there, then ventured lower. His long middle finger stroked her slick folds and he brought his mouth close to her ear. "God, Scully, you're so wet..." She shivered, then cried out as he slipped his finger inside her. He slowly withdrew it, then just as slowly he slid it into her again. She moaned, held onto him. He held her tight to his body, stroked and teased her nipples as his finger moved in and out of her and the heel of his hand ground against her clit. "Did I do that to you? Are you this wet because of me?" She threw her head back against his shoulder, her eyes snapped shut. "God, Mulder... yes... you. Only you." He kept up that maddeningly slow pace -- in, out, in, out -- kissing and nibbling on her neck and pinching her nipple in the same rhythm. "Do you know what that does to me, Scully? To know that I make you wet?" (His voice... turning me inside out... god Mulder I'm on fire...) He quickened his pace a bit, brushed his thumb over her clit. She hissed, dug her nails into him, thrust against his hand. "Do you get this wet when you touch yourself..." His whisper got even softer. "...and think about me?" Her knees buckled and his arms tightened around her. She whimpered as he slowly withdrew his hand, and he whispered in her ear again. "Shh... it's okay... we just need to reposition." He knelt down to remove her jeans and panties, then he lifted her off her feet and took her back to the couch. She lay back, looking up as he leaned over her. He kissed her lips, then began to blaze a trail further south. He tongued her navel and she jerked against him. His mouth moved lower on her abdomen, and he felt her stiffen under him. He stopped, looked up at her. She licked her lips, looked a little apprehensive. He moved up her body, eyes on hers. "Scully?" "You... don't have to do that." His eyes never left hers. "I don't." (Smooth, Dana. Now he thinks you're frigid.) She shook her head and swallowed hard. "Not if you don't want to." "What if I *do* want to?" She had to look away from him. "Mulder... I know most men do that because they feel they have to, not because they want to. Besides, I've never really..." "Never really what?" She didn't look at him, didn't answer him, but he knew. "Never come that way?" After a moment she nodded, still not looking at him. (Yep. Frigid. No wonder they call me the Ice Queen.) "Obviously, your past lovers weren't paying attention in class." She looked up at that and saw his gentle smile. She let a laugh come out, thankful for his slightly warped sense of humor. He lay down on the couch next to her and spoke very softly, stroking her face. "Despite what my video collection might lead you to believe, I'm not the most experienced guy in the world. And I haven't done this in a very long time." He paused as she absorbed this bit of information, then went on, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But Scully... I was in class every day." She raised an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth twitching in a tiny grin. "There are things about you I want to know... things I can only find out this way." "Like what?" He drew her close, his lips at her ear. "I want to taste you, Scully." He tilted her face toward him, looked into her eyes. "I want to make you come with my mouth." She shivered at the words, at the passion and intensity behind them. He smiled and kissed her -- a long, slow kiss, their tongues exploring every crevice of their mouths. He pulled his lips from hers and rained soft kisses down her throat, to her breasts -- again he took a breast in his mouth, swirled his tongue around the nipple. She gasped and arched against him, tangling her fingers in his hair. He nuzzled the underside of her breasts, moved lower still until his mouth was at her navel. He flicked his tongue again, and again she hissed, her body jerking. He shifted, lapped at her navel, pulled and sucked gently. "Mulder... god that's so..." He kissed his way further down her body, toward his goal. She tensed a bit when his chin brushed her damp curls -- he shifted again, moving away from her center and down to her thighs. With his fingers and his lips, he massaged her inner thighs, opening her up to him. As he moved closer to her core, her breathing grew rapid, her hands clutched at the leather cushions. His own pulse quickened as he tentatively kissed her opening -- she shuddered violently and he breathed in her scent. His tongue caressed her and she began to writhe. "Oh god oh god... Mulder what are you doing to me..." She felt him smile against her skin and he swirled his tongue around her clit. Her hips bucked -- he slipped an arm around her waist, reached for her hand. She tangled her fingers with his and held on tight. She opened her eyes and stole a look at him, ran her fingers through his dark chocolate hair. (Mulder... that's Mulder doing this... my Mulder... oh sweet jesus Mulder...) He nibbled and licked and sucked everywhere but that little bundle of nerves, teasing her, bringing her closer and closer to the edge. He parted her with his tongue, dipping inside her, in and out, as his finger had done before. Her head snapped up, then back again. She was panting now, one hand clutching his, the other buried in his hair. She was close... Finally, finally... he took her clit into his mouth. He tongued it gently, sucked slightly... and she was gone. "Mulder! Oh god Mulder..." Her body went rigid. She gripped his hand and her hips thrust against him. He kept his mouth on her as the orgasm rocked her body, shudders and spasms rolling through her. She murmured his name over and over... After a while he slowly moved up to lie next to her again. He held her as the last waves of her orgasm swept through her, whispering in her ear... "Scully... you're so beautiful... I never imagined..." He placed a gentle kiss on her cheek and she turned toward him. She was still breathing hard, but she opened her eyes to look at him. "Mulder..." Her eyes fluttered shut as she tried to slow her breathing. "I've never... never come that hard. Ever." She dragged her eyes open and smiled weakly. "Admit it -- you were the teacher's pet." He let out a chuckle and kissed her again. She drew his tongue into her mouth, moaning as she tasted herself. He moaned in response and deepened the kiss. She felt his erection pressing hard against her, and together they shifted. She parted her thighs, once again opening herself to him. He positioned himself above her, the tip of his cock at her opening, then he looked deep into her eyes. (He can't still be uncertain, can he? Of course he can -- he's Mulder.) She reached up to touch his face and smiled gently. "Mulder. It's just us. You and me... finally..." She wrapped her legs around him, moved her hands to his shoulders. His eyes grew darker as his passion overtook him, and he slid into her. "Finally... Scully..." She gasped at the sensation and he slowed his movements, pulling out almost completely, then pushing in a little more. Finally he was fully inside her and they were both very still for a moment. He leaned down close to her. "You okay?" She nodded a little. "It's just... it's been a long time." He kissed her, smoothed a lock of hair off her forehead. He leaned on his elbows next to her head, his hands gripped the armrest beyond her. He kept his eyes locked with hers and stayed very close as he began to move. She shifted her legs higher around him and matched his movements. They quickly found a rhythm, for now keeping it slow and deliberate. "God Scully you feel so good..." As delicious as this easy pace was, though, Scully wanted more. She wanted to feel him pounding into her. She needed to feel him come inside her. She had to give him the same dizzying release and intense pleasure he'd given her. She subtly changed their rhythm, and he got the hint. Partly, anyway -- he was still holding back, denying himself what he needed. What they *both* needed. She tightened her inner walls around him -- his eyes rolled back in his head, eyelids fluttering shut. He began to thrust harder, faster. The friction of his pelvic bone on her clit was exquisite, and she felt another orgasm building. But still he held back. (Talk to him, Dana. Let him know it's okay.) "Mulder..." Nothing. His eyes were tightly shut, his pace steady. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, her nails scraped up his back. "Mulder." Still nothing. She snaked an arm around his neck and pulled herself up off the couch until her lips were almost at his ear. She whispered... "Mulder, do you trust me?" She dropped back to the couch as he stilled his movements. He opened his eyes and tried to focus. She could tell he wasn't with her yet, so she said it again. "Mulder. Do you trust me?" His eyes found her, locked with hers. "Scully, you are the *only* one I trust." "Then let go. It's okay. I'm here, I've got you. Let go, Mulder. Trust me." She whispered... "Come for me, Mulder. Come inside me." His breathing grew deeper as he began to move inside her again. His eyes never left hers as his pace increased. She tried to keep up, but Mulder was driving this train now. His thrusts were harder, deeper, faster. He rose up off his elbows, hands clutching the armrest above her head. He was pounding into her now and he was close, so close... "Scully... oh god..." Once more, then again, then... He shuddered violently, his head back, his face contorted. She couldn't tell if his expression was one of pleasure or pain, or some heady mixture of both. He whispered her name almost reverently as he emptied into her for what seemed like forever. (Oh my god look at him... he's so beautiful...) His head fell forward and he gave one last reflexive thrust -- with that movement she came again, gasping his name. His arms began to tremble and she smoothed her hands over his shoulders, drawing him to her -- he collapsed on top of her. She tightened her legs around his waist and wrapped her arms around him, holding him close. For reasons she couldn't quite grasp, she started to cry. She let the tears flow, not trying to stop them or wipe them away. Soon she felt him shudder in her arms, then felt his hot tears on her shoulder. She held onto him and whispered soothing sounds in his ear. After a long, long while, their tears subsided. He shifted to lie alongside her, and she turned to face him. They stroked each other's faces with trembling fingers, dried each other's tears with feather-soft kisses. He smiled and whispered her name again. "Hmm?" "Nothing, just... Scully. I like saying your name. I like touching you. I like kissing you." She smiled and kissed him. (I like kissing you, too.) "Mulder, can I ask you something?" He nodded. "Do you have an actual bedroom?" He suddenly looked a little shy. "Um... I have a room in which most people would keep a bed, yes." "What do you keep in there?" "File boxes." "How many file boxes, Mulder?" "Eighty-seven." Her broad smile became a laugh, one he joined in. "I never had much need for a bed... till now, anyway." They kissed again, enjoying the new pleasures of being close. After a bit... "You do have a bathroom, right?" "You've been in my bathroom on a number of occasions, Scully. Why?" "Mulder, between us we killed a whole bottle of wine. I've gotta go -- don't you?" "Ladies first." She planted a kiss on the tip of his nose and untangled from him. "Hurry back." She smiled and moved off. The light in the bathroom was too bright after the dimness of the living room, which would be dark even if most of the lights weren't off. Scully studied her reflection in the small mirror over the sink -- her makeup was smeared, her hair was a mess. She found herself wondering what Mulder saw when he looked at her. Did he really think she was beautiful? She ran some warm water in the sink and leaned over to wash away the remnants of her makeup. But before she could, a bright red drop hit the water. Scully's head shot up and she stared in the mirror. Her nose was bleeding. (Shit. Shit shit shit. Breathe, Dana. It's just... overexertion. That's all. We were burning a lot of calories out there and I'm just... just... going to die.) Her breath caught in her throat as a tear slipped down her face. "Fuck." A knock at the door. "Hey, Scully, you okay in there?" "I'm fine, Mulder. I'll be right out." "I know I was being chivalrous before, but I really gotta go now, so..." "I'll hurry." She tore off some toilet paper and wiped the blood from her nose. She dropped the bloody tissues into the toilet -- it wouldn't do for him to find them in the trash, he'd just worry. She drained the sink and splashed clean, fresh water on her face, then looked deep into her own eyes in the mirror. (Okay. I'm going to die. So be it. But I will not die with regrets, with things left unsaid or undone. I want to be with this man. With Mulder. I want to make him happy. I want to be happy with him.) She dried her face and ran damp fingers through her hair. She tried to smile and found it almost convincing. When she opened the door he was leaning against the wall, naked, arms folded across his chest, a goofy grin on his face. Her heart swelled when she saw him, and she reached up to kiss him. "All yours." "There's an offer I can't refuse." "I meant the bathroom." "Oh. Right." He stepped past her, then turned back. Worry flickered in his eyes. "Scully, you okay?" She smiled. "I'm fine. I'm gonna get some water, and I'll meet you on the couch." He nodded, closed the door. She walked into the kitchen and poured cold water into a tall glass, drinking deeply, trying to fend off the dread that had overtaken her in the bathroom. She stepped into the living room and stopped in her tracks. There were two fluffy pillows at one end of the couch. Two soft blankets were draped there, one turned back. The empty wine bottle and their glasses were gone -- she hadn't noticed them in the kitchen, but they were probably there. She moved further into the room and noticed he'd folded their clothes and set them on a chair. One of his tee shirts lay across the back of the chair -- a gracious gesture, in case she wanted something to sleep in. (Oh, Mulder...) She felt him behind her, but she didn't turn. She couldn't right now. If she looked at him, her heart might burst. "Is this okay?" She nodded, brought a hand up to stroke his face. "I wanted you to be comfortable, Scully." Then, uncertainty in his voice... "If you were planning to stay the night, I mean." She turned to him, her eyes shining, and drew her thumb across his lips. "I'm not going anywhere, Mulder." He leaned into her touch, pressed his lips to her palm. He reached for the tee shirt, but she shook her head. She took his hand and led him to the couch. He reached down to pull back the covers. "You want the inside or the outside?" "Outside, I think." He kissed her hand then slid between the blankets, pushing himself against the back of the couch and holding the covers open for her. She set the water glass down and joined him, her back to him, snuggling up close to him. He draped the blanket over her then slipped his arm underneath it, wrapping her in his warm embrace. He gently kissed her neck and she sighed. There would be no more thoughts of death tonight. "Scully?" "Hmm?" "I'm sorry I was such a jerk about... everything." "It's okay, Mulder." "I just... I guess I got jealous." She shifted in his arms, turned on her back so she could see his face. "Mulder, listen to me. You're such a beautiful, brilliant, passionate man. Eddie Van Blundht can't hold a candle to you. To the man you are." She laid a hand on his heart, felt it beating. "He might've looked like you on the outside, but there's no way he could imitate you on the inside." He smiled rather shyly and dipped his head to give her another kiss. She deepened this one, their tongues dancing in each other's mouths. When they separated, she turned over and spooned with him again. She heard him sigh -- the happiest he'd ever sounded. After a moment... "Scully?" "Hmm?" "I'm glad..." He trailed off, then... "I..." She turned a little, trying to see him, but he stayed out of her line of sight. "Mulder? What?" He didn't say anything else right away, then... "I'm glad I was the first to... to make you..." She quivered at the memory of his mouth on her, of his head buried between her thighs, of her shuddering orgasm. She felt the stirrings of arousal begin again, and she brought his hand up to cup her breast. He caressed it and kissed her shoulder, glad she understood. "So am I, Mulder." He smiled, content to hold her and touch her with no thought to anything else. After a moment... "Scully?" "Hmm?" "If we can do this again, I promise I'll buy a bed." "Can I help you pick it out?" "Uh-uh. I'd rather surprise you." "That sounds dangerous." "I'm thinking maybe a waterbed. One of those big monsters, with a mirror..." She elbowed him in the ribs. "Ow! I said maybe." And they shared an easy laugh. As if they'd been lying together and talking through the night all their lives. After a moment... "Scully?" "Hmm?" "When you came over here tonight... did you intend for this to happen?" "Mulder, I'm not that conniving." She felt him smile against her shoulder. "All I intended was for us to talk." She brought his hand to her lips, kissed it. "But I'm glad that's not all we did." "Me too." He nuzzled her hair, breathing in her scent. After a moment... "Scully?" "Mulder, you talk too much." "I know. Allison used to say the same thing." She smiled in the dark and waited for him to continue. Instead, he started over. "Scully?" "Hmm?" He paused a minute. She wasn't sure what to make of that until... "I love you." Her eyes widened. Her heart was pounding. She could feel his heart keeping time with her own. She didn't say anything -- didn't know what to say just yet. Then, incredibly, he went on. "You don't have to say it back if you don't feel it. I just wanted... I needed to tell you." She felt his arms tighten around her and he kissed the back of her neck. She was so overwhelmed she couldn't speak -- could hardly breathe. His head settled next to hers on the pillow and his breathing slowed a bit. It didn't seem to bother him that she hadn't responded -- but it bothered her. She loved him, had loved him for a long time. Why didn't she tell him? What was she afraid of? Her mind went back to that moment in the bathroom -- the abject terror she felt at the sight of her blood in the water, the tissues she flushed rather than risk him finding, the immense sadness that overcame her when she accepted her fate. Then she remembered the rest... (I will not die with regrets, with things left unsaid or undone.) She felt a tear slip down her cheek. Her hand was tangled up with his, so she brought them both up to wipe it away, kissing his in the process. If he felt the wetness on her face, he didn't react. "Mulder?" "Hmm?" (No regrets. Nothing left unsaid, undone.) "I love you, too." She felt him smile in the dark. He planted another gentle kiss on her shoulder. "Now who talks too much?" She smiled too, and drew his arms tighter around her. And she realized... (That's the first time I've ever said that and meant it.) She loved him. He loved her. They would be together for as long as they had. And if some miracle happened, if she survived this illness... they just might be together forever. Unless he bought a waterbed. END ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ AUTHOR'S NOTE: Small Potatoes was part of FX's Thanksgiving Day Marathon, and I was inspired. A good Vince Gilligan script always inspires me. (Wait, that's redundant...) Anyway, the timeline for the end of that episode always troubled me -- would they *really* wait a whole month or more without talking about it? Well, yeah, they probably would -- but when they finally opened up to each other, there'd be an explosion of emotion. THANKS TO: The extremely talented writers, both pro and am, who constantly inspire and challenge me to be a better writer than I am. Dasha K for her excellent "how to write smut" piece, which can be found at her website. My real-world buddy Cheryl for indulging my new obsession and giving this little story a first read. ATXC denizens Nikki, ROz H, Rae and EPur for giving it a second read. And Rae again, for planting the sequel seed. Lara Means -------------------- "Admit it. You just want to play house." -- "Arcadia," written by David Amann