TITLE: Hard Times (1/1)
AUTHOR: Susanne Barringer
EMAIL: sbarringer@usa.net
ARCHIVE: Already sent to Gossamer. Anywhere else okay with these
headers attached.
CATEGORY: SH
SPOILERS: none
RATING: NC-17 for the general subject matter.
SUMMARY: It's humor. That's all I can tell you without ruining the
fun.
DISCLAIMER: These characters are borrowed from Chris Carter, 1013,
Fox, all the XF people. No money is being made; no infringement
intended.


THANK YOU to Heather Scotland for laughing in the right places and
helping dig me out of the hole of a story with no ending.


Just for fun . . .

___________________


Hard Times
by Susanne Barringer


With an erection the size of a telephone pole, Mulder knocked on
Scully's door. When she finally answered, she was in her nightgown
and robe, and Mulder realized he had woken her.

"Mulder, what is it?" Scully looked rumpled from sleep, yet
concerned.

"I'm sorry to bother you, Scully. Can I come in? I need help."

Scully stepped aside to let him in, then shut the door behind them.
When she entered the living room, Mulder was standing behind a chair.
"Sit down, Mulder. Tell me what's up."

"Uh, I need your medical advice," said Mulder, not moving from his
position.

"Sure Mulder, shoot."

"Um, well, I accidentally took Viagra." Scully had to bite her cheek
to keep from bursting out laughing. Instead, she just gave him one
of her looks.

"You 'accidentally' took Viagra? What the hell does that mean?"

"Please, Scully, this is hard enough as it is without you giving me
that look. The truth is Frohike got his hands on some and gave me a
couple of pills in case I ever needed them. Not that I would, of
course."

"Of course," Scully said helpfully.

"Anyway, I didn't know what else to do with them, so I stuck them in
an empty Tylenol bottle for safe keeping, and then, well, I had a
headache tonight, so . . . " As he stepped out from behind the
chair, Mulder motioned in the general direction of the lower half of
his body. That was about all Scully could take. Despite her
attempts to stop it, the laughter finally came out in a hysterical
burst that forced her to sit down in order to keep from falling over.

Mulder glared. "Scully! Come on, work with me here. Is this bad?
Could this cause any harmful side effects or anything? I mean, since
I took it and didn't need it?"

Scully managed to pull herself together and put on her doctor's face.
She got off the sofa and moved to stand in front of Mulder to
reassure him. "You'll be fine, Mulder. You just might be a little,
um, uncomfortable for a few hours. One Viagra pill won't hurt you."

"Well, see, that's the thing. I took three. It was a big headache."


Scully looked down at the evidence. Mulder looked down. They both
stood, looking. Yes, it was certainly going to be a big
headache--for Mulder anyway.

"Still," Scully finally said after assessing the condition carefully,
with her physician's eye of course, "I don't think three will do any
real harm. The effects will probably go away in a few hours."

Mulder just rolled his eyes. "Great. So, what am I supposed to do
about this?" he asked, waving his hand once again toward his crotch.
"It won't go away."

"I don't know, Mulder. What do you usually do about it?"

"Yeah, I tried that, only to find that the problem . . . reemerged.
Twice." Scully just shook her head in disbelief. Only Mulder could
get himself in a mess like this. All dressed up and no place to go.


"Mulder, why are you and your erection standing in my living room
anyway?"

Mulder stared at her, a true look of incomprehension across his
features. "Scully, I'm suffering a major medical trauma here. Are
you suggesting I came here with some kind of ulterior motive?"

"It's hardly a major medical trauma, Mulder. You'll live. I'm just
asking why you came here at all. The two of you should be back in
the privacy of your home. You shouldn't be waving that thing around
in public."

"This isn't public, Scully. You're the only one here."

"My point exactly." Mulder was confused. There was some kind of
accusation in her words; he wasn't quite sure what he was being
accused of.

"I was worried, Scully. I was afraid I'd done some type of
irreparable harm to myself. I mean, it's been hours and I'm still .
. . " He motioned again toward that rebellious part of his body.

"So? You could have just called me. You didn't have to come all the
way over here. You shouldn't drive in that condition anyway. It
could be distracting."

"I'm sorry. I needed help. You were the first person I thought of."
Actually, thinking about Scully was part of what had gotten Mulder
into this mess in the first place. He had tried thinking about
baseball, aliens, conspiracies, and even Krycek. It did no good;
Scully kept floating back before his eyes and that was all the
stimulation he needed in his exceedingly sensitive state. Now that
she was standing there in front of him, in her nightgown no less, he
was thinking that Scully really did have a legitimate question in why
he had come there. The condition had definitely intensified since
he'd arrived. He must be trying to torture himself.

"Is there a compliment in there somewhere, Mulder? You have a
hard-on, so you think of me?"

"You're a doctor, Scully, for God's sake. Look, isn't there an
antidote for this, something you could give me to ease the, uh,
situation?"

A lot of things she could give him ran through Scully's mind, but she
took the proper route. "Cold shower, Mulder. That's about it.
You're just going to have to wait it out."

"This is unbelievable." Mulder slumped on the sofa, the physical
mark of his accidental ingestion of pharmaceutical drugs waving like
a flag in the air. "I've got the boner of my life and there's not a
damn thing I can do about it."

"I'll get you a cold drink," suggested Scully practically. She went
to the kitchen and poured a big, tall glass of water. While pulling
ice cube trays out of the freezer she couldn't get the image of
Mulder and his little friend out of her mind. Mulder was in her
apartment--ready, able, and it likely wouldn't take much to get him
willing. Her thoughts drifted of their own accord to the bulge she
had seen in his shorts. It looked like a nice, sturdy erection, as
least as far as she could tell--quite promising, in fact.

Suddenly Scully was faced with the biggest moral dilemma of her life.
It had been a long time since she'd had a sexy man with an erection
sitting on her sofa. Shouldn't she take advantage of it? On the
other hand, this was Mulder and there was a lot at stake. On the
other other hand, she knew it was only a matter of time until they
finally did it; why not now? It seemed as good a time as any. Hell,
Mulder was halfway there already. All she had to do was catch up,
which shouldn't take long if he looked anything like she imagined he
looked naked. It's not like he would object or anything. It would,
in fact, help relieve his suffering. Yes, it would be nice of her to
do that for him, help him through this trying circumstance.

By the time Scully returned to the living room with the glass of ice
water, she had pretty much made up her mind that as a good friend and
partner, it was her obligation to help Mulder with his problem. It
might even be her duty as a physician. Okay, so it wasn't exactly in
the Hippocratic Oath, but what did Hippocrates know anyway? He had
probably never had a gorgeous man with a raging hard-on in his living
room, otherwise he would have made damn sure to put it in that Oath.
Yes, it was her duty. She was pretty sure.

"Mulder, take off your clothes. I have a remedy," she announced with
confidence. Mulder yelped and jumped off the sofa, eyeing the glass
of ice water with sheer terror. Scully laughed. "No, Mulder, not
this," she said raising the glass as if in a toast. "Me."

"You?"

"Absolutely. I can help. Honestly."

"Scully, I don't know." Mulder still watched the glass suspiciously.
"Maybe I should just wait it out."

"Mulder, I'll take care of it." Mulder looked at her and she could
see as the understanding of what she was proposing hit him full
force.

"You will?" His voice cracked on the question.

"And I promise it won't hurt a bit," she smiled.


*********

Scully felt something hard pressing against her thigh. Something
besides the obvious. Something plastic. She removed one hand from
Mulder's ass and slid it into the pocket of his shorts. "Oh,
Scully!" Mulder groaned, obviously thinking she was making a run for
third base when in actuality all she was doing was trying to figure
how what the hell was digging into her leg. Scully felt around until
she found the offending item, then pulled it out. Mulder groaned
again. She pulled away from Mulder's kisses long enough to look at
the small bottle in her hand. It was a Tylenol bottle. While Mulder
rained kisses across her neck, she popped open the lid with one hand
and peered inside. She wanted to know how many were left. This was
just much too nice to be a one-time thing, and it would be
unfortunate if the three Viagra Mulder had taken were the only three
he had.

Suddenly, she gasped and wrenched herself away from Mulder's groping
hands. "What Scully? What?" Mulder sounded desperate.

"Mulder, are these the pills Frohike gave you?" she demanded in a
voice very much not the one of a woman on the verge of sexual
surrender.

"Um, yeah. I told you Scully." Mulder reached for her again, but
she stepped back.

"Mulder, these aren't Viagra. Are you sure these are the pills you
took?"

"Scully, don't be ridiculous. Of course they're Viagra. Look!" He
motioned down at the erection poking through his shorts.

"Viagra pills are a lot bigger, Mulder. These definitely aren't
Viagra."

"Then what the hell are they, Scully?" Mulder looked like he was
ready to kill her, the materialization of his greatest fantasy
suddenly disintegrating before his eyes.

Scully tilted the bottle so the pills fell into her hand, then moved
over toward the lamp to examine them closely. She squinted her eyes
while holding a pill up to the light. Mulder bounced on his feet
impatiently. "What are they, Scully, huh?"

"Aspirin," she pronounced with medical authority. "Generic aspirin."


"Oh," said Mulder. His heart fell, his cock fell, Scully's hopes
fell. It was just a general downer all the way around. "Well, that
explains why my headache went away," he said thoughtfully.

Scully nodded in sympathy. Mulder stared at the aspirin in her hand.
"So, how come . . .?" he looked down at his erection which was now
not quite so erect.

"Must've been psychological, Mulder. You thought you took Viagra;
your body reacted as if it had. It's the placebo effect."

Mulder looked disappointed. "That was all in my mind?"

"Guess so," said Scully, picking up her blouse from the floor and
sliding her arms through it. It seemed apparent that her doctoring
was finished for the evening.

"So we're done?" Mulder asked with a pathetic puppy dog look.

Scully glanced down at the medical evidence, now deflating faster
than a bicycle tire impaled on a nail. "Looks like it."

Mulder watched mournfully as his body betrayed him. "I can get it
back, Scully. I swear. Just give me a minute."

"Mulder, ten minutes ago you wanted to get rid of it. Now, it's
gone. I think you've been through enough ups and downs tonight. Go
home and get some rest."

"Another time, then?" he asked hopefully, a bit of bashfulness
creeping in behind his leer. Scully smiled.

"Another time, Mulder."

Mulder grumbled to himself as he headed toward the door, something
about women and Little Mulder and never having the right timing.

"Uh, Mulder?" Scully said as she opened the door to let him out,
"next time you see Frohike, will you do me a favor?"

"Sure, Scully, what?"

"Kick his ass and tell him it's from me."

Mulder laughed. "Believe me, Scully, he's a dead man."

Scully closed the door behind Mulder. Sighing to herself, she
grabbed an erotic novel from the bookshelf and retired to the
bedroom. She had her own raging problem to take care of.

END

____________

Just lay it on me.
sbarringer@usa.net

All my fanfic available at my webpage:
http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Dreamworld/2442