TITLE: FUCKING IN THE WOODS AUTHOR: RACHEL BOYCE E-MAIL: keyup@aol.com -------- DISCLAIMER: 1013 and CCarter own it all, I'm just, er, f**king with the characters, for fun and not profit CATEGORY: humor primarily, NC-17 for sex and the F-word, but hey I'm a sedate married type, it's not too wild COMMENTS: well, this is neither romance ("I've always loved you too, Fox") nor slash ("oak-hard", "throbbing") but instead my weird little way of getting the characters together. I was trying to be true to them, get their voices down, so I had to give them a couple complementary sexual quirks to push 'em over the edge. In a strange way, it proves I'm not a 'shipper, because I just can't see it without my twist of how Scully gets so hot when she... and then Mulder always wants to... ah, just read it. It's all meant to be funny. oh, and if you want to e-mail me, it may be difficult to reach me at this address, since it's not my account. But I'll try and I'd love feedback. leader space for the folks bailing out now... XXXXXXXXXXXXXX Dana Scully set down the scalpel and pressed 'Record.' "The third victim has also suffered multiple stab wounds to the back. It's difficult to be certain, but at least thirteen different marks can be distinguished. Other evidence suggests, however, that these wounds were inflicted after death. Cause of death - unknown." Her hand began to tremble and she set the recorder down quickly. Peeling off the bloodied gloves, she moved to the sink and began to scrub. Scully met her own eyes in the mirror and let out a deep breath. She took off her eye protection and blotted the perspiration on her brow. Her cheeks were flushed, and she pressed her cold hands against them. The cell phone began to ring. Irritated, she dug it out of the trenchcoat she'd flung over a chair hours before. "Scully?" "Mulder, where are you?" she snapped. "Sounds like you've finished with the autopsies, hmm?" Mulder's voice was smugly amused. "Yes, I have." Scully mustered her professionalism. "All inconclusive. I'll get the test results tomorrow though. The Forensics lab closed early here." "Good. In the meantime I have been doing a little investigating. I have something I want to show you, Scully." "Oh." "In the woods." In the woods, indeed! Mulder knew her all too well. Three autopsies back to back... "Scully, are you still there?" That damned self-satisfaction. "Mulder...," Scully reached beneath her lab coat and pulled at her moist panties. The wretched things were sticking to her. Maybe she should stop shaving. "Wait for me, Scully. I'll pick you up in five minutes." *** The woods, at dusk, were gloomy and silent. Wet leaves underfoot muffled the sounds of their passage. "...how else can you explain it?" Mulder was insisting, as Scully sighed. "Mulder, it's getting dark. Let's get back to the car." "Come on, Scully," Mulder stopped to peer at her expression in the dim light, "You're just reacting to the stress of those autopsies." "Stress!" Scully burst out, "And then being dragged through the woods for," she glanced at her watch, "A good forty-five minutes!" Mulder was grinning. "And now you're going to say...you like my impatience." "I do, Scully. Very much." He was reaching out to her, sliding his hands under her suit. His chilled fingers rolled her nipples erect. "Mmm...Mulder...," her arousal was returning, "Everything is dripping wet. Why can't we..." "Mulder, why can't we just go to the hotel?" he mimicked her, turning her around to face a tree. "Put your hands up. C'mon, Scully. Spread 'em for me." Mulder leaned over her, his mouth on her neck as he undid her pants. "Why can't you wear skirts like you used to?" "Because then, you'd complain about the stockings." Now he was shifting her trenchcoat to the side and undoing his own zipper. The air was cold on her bare ass. In a moment he was pressing against her, warm, hard. "Oooh, Scully, you're already wet." "Yes, well, shaved, I'm always wet." "Maybe I should tell Frohike." "Tell Frohike and you're a dead man." "Scully, um, can you...lean forward a bit? Shift your hips...is there something you can stand on?" "Dammit, Mulder. I'm already wearing these ridiculous three-inch heels for you! You're the one who always insists on doing it 'in the field,' or the woods, or parking garages..." She broke off as Mulder pressed harder and abruptly slid inside her. He wrapped one arm around her hips and leaned into her. Scully groaned. Mulder knew how she liked it, knew her like nobody else. He wasn't perfect, but he was the best thing she'd had since she and Jack used to pull out all the morgue drawers and go at it there on the floor. "Don't forget, Scully," Mulder murmured into her hair, "You're the one who thought of the trenchcoats - warmth, privacy, easy to brush off the leaves..." "Harder, Mulder!" Mulder gripped her hips and fucked her as hard as he could. His fingers on her clitoris spun her into ecstasy. As Scully came, her knees began to wobble and Mulder had to hold tightly to come inside her. For a moment they stood together, gasping. Mulder pulled away and, wet leaves or no, Scully wrapped her trenchcoat around her and sat down with a thump. "You'll stain that coat," Mulder warned. "With this kind of relationship, dry cleaning's a bitch anyway." She watched Mulder peel off the condom and fold it neatly into a tissue. "Why don't you just toss it into the shrubs like every other teenager out here?" Mulder stopped. "Oh, leave my genetic material lying around in the woods?" Scully rolled her eyes. Mulder helped her to her feet and she began to pull her clothes together. "You know," Scully smiled, "My mother keeps asking why we don't get together." "We are together, Scully." "This is not 'together', Mulder, this is fucking in the woods." "You mean more to me than anyone else, Scully. Why don't you hear me when I tell you this? I trust only you." "Then tell me, Mulder, in all honesty, that you and Agent Krycek didn't..." Mulder stared at her defensively. Scully raised her eyebrows. "You spent quite some time together, out in isolated areas like this..." "And you haven't done Skinner?" "Once, Mulder, and that was before we heard he was married." Mulder turned away and headed down the hill to the car. Scully hurried after him in the near-dark. His cell-phone rang. "Mulder," he answered, controlled. "Uh-huh. Where?" Scully couldn't see his expression as he leaned over to unlock her door. "No, that's fine. We'll follow up." She waited, listening, as Mulder walked around to the driver's side. "Yeah, we'll meet them there." He pocketed the phone. "Two more victims were reported in an abandoned warehouse. Anonymous call-in. The sheriff won't be able to get there for another half hour. You with me, Scully?" They were silent, two shadows in the darkness. Warehouses were Mulder's favorite, after forests. Mulder ran his hand over his hair. "Maybe I should get a second opinion from the County Coroner. Get him to do these two new autopsies for us. Maybe he can find what you missed." "Get in the car, Mulder." "Tell me you love me, Scully." Scully opened her door and the interior light went on. Mulder was grinning.