Mystery Date By: Diana Alexander dmulder@flashmail.com Rating: NC-17 Classification: SR Summary: Scully's got a mystery date... but who is it? Disclaimer: Do I haveta? I don't even use their names that much... *whine* Oh, all right... *straight-face* Fox Mulder and Dana Scully are the property of Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, and Fox Broadcasting. No infringement is intended. Storm Austin, for her slight mention, is the property of the author, Diana Alexander. Author's Notes: Okay, so this was a challenge from a friend of mine. Okay, so it was more like a dare... *grin* You asked for this, Christina. You know I can never resist a challenge. More notes at end of the story. Anyway, would y'all *please* send feedback to me at dmulder@flashmail.com * * * * * I pulled the dress out of the closet. It was dark green and made of a velvety fabric. I had bought the dress a long time ago, back when Storm and I were in college. I was so much wilder then. In fact, the last decent date I had was back then. Until now. I didn't believe it when he called me up and asked me if I would join him for dinner at one of the more fancy restaurants in the Annapolis area, but I accepted without even thinking twice. I had allowed myself to get so bogged down with work that my mind was circulating around work and sleep, and nothing else. This would prove to be an interesting and pleasant change. A *very* pleasant change if things went according to plan. I looked at myself in the full-length mirror as I started to apply my makeup. The off-the-shoulder dress embraced my body like a lover, and I liked the effect it had. With a laugh, I had to admit that I looked good. Whether he would feel that way would be another story altogether. I hoped so. After running the brush through my hair and slipping on my heels, I noticed the time. I was due at the restaurant in less than thirty minutes, and I was running late. Picking up my black purse and the car keys, I headed out the door after switching on my answering machine to catch any messages that I might miss tonight. An enigmatic smile crossed my lips as I softly closed the door behind me. Tonight would be quite a night. I could *feel* it. I felt a nervous knot form in the bottom of my stomach as I made my way out to my car. It wasn't a bad thing, I thought to myself. It could only be called a delicious anticipation. My fingers drummed nervously on the steering wheel as I got caught in traffic. Of all the times to be stuck in chaotic traffic, I swore. Then a memory of the man I had agreed to meet for dinner tonight doing similar things came to my mind, and a smile curved my lips. He would wait. He would always wait. Finally, I arrived at the restaurant, about ten minutes late. I checked the mirror nervously again. I wasn't normally this picky about my appearance, but nights like this happened so seldom for me. Normally, I keep this part of me hid far away, lost in a professional and doctor facade that he could shatter with a well-placed look. I sighed, and climbed out of the car, squaring my shoulders. I approached the matre'd and gave him my name. He smiled, and bowed slightly. "Come this way, madam. Your table is waiting." A smile graced my lips as I followed him into the dimly lit dining room. Soft romantic music was playing, and it wasn't too crowded, which was surprising, considering that it was a Saturday night. National Date Night for the entire nation was tonight, and this classy restaurant was nearly empty. I noticed the lit dance floor, and wondered if I would end up there before the night was over. Then I saw him. His eyes drifted worriedly to his watch, then our eyes met across the room, and it seemed as though electricity jumped at the contact between us. I slowly approached, and sat down in front of him. "You're late." "Traffic problems." "Oh, sure. That's what they *all* say," he grinned at me teasingly, and I couldn't help but smile in return. We ordered, and while waiting for our dinner, we engaged in quiet conversation about how my job had gone that day, and how his had. Finally, the dinner we ordered arrived, and we ate our meal, sharing glances in a sort of silent flirtation. It had been so long since I had done anything like this that I thought I had forgotten how. After the dinner plates were taken away, we sat for a while, not talking, but sitting there in a sort of silent communion when he asked me in a low voice, "Would you care to dance?" "I'd enjoy that, I think." "You think?" he arched an eyebrow like I often did, and extended a hand to pull me out of my chair, escorted me to the deserted dance floor. A soft jazz melody started, and he pulled me against him as though he was trying to meld us into one body, as it seemed as though we were already one mind. "You know," he told me as he ran his hands over my shoulders and back as we swayed to the music. "You look really beautiful tonight. How did you know I love velvet?" "I didn't," I confessed to him with a smile that I tried to hide. His voice lowered, and it felt like he was seducing me with his words. "Velvet feels so good when it's against your skin... velvet and satin." As he moved to nibble on my earlobe, I speared my hands through his hair, and tried to pull him away. It was a rather difficult task, but finally, I deterred him enough so that I could kiss him. We moved together on that dance floor in movements that were half dance and half anticipation to what would happen, eventually, though hopefully we could make it off the dance floor and away from the restaurant. Despite all the things I said to myself about this night, my inhibitations were still in place. No matter how much I was enjoying this, I do not think that I would want everyone in this restaurant to be witness to what could possibly be the best lovemaking session I've been a part of for quite some time. Finally, he pulled away, and breathed slightly raggedly before speaking. "Shall we take this someplace a bit more... private?" he asked me, and I nodded, unwilling to break this rare mood by speaking. We moved back to the table, and he gestured to the waiter, who accepted his credit card and moved to take care of the check. My eyes widened as I looked up at him, and he just smiled in a "don't ask, don't tell" fashion. I picked up my purse from the table and after retrieving the Visa card, he took my arm in his, and guided out of the restaurant. I noticed several envious glances from women in the restaurant, and unconsciously, my arm tightened on him. *Mine,* I declared silently. When we got out to the parking lot, he anticipated my pulling away, and whispered in my ear, "Please, let me take you home. I want to. I can drive you by to get your car in the morning if you'd like." I parted my lips and swept my tongue across them, since they seemed awfully dry. He turned to face me, and moved a thumb across them. I took it in my mouth for scant moments, then pulled away and whispered my answer to him, "All right. Take me home." His eyes drifted shut, and he sighed before opening them again, and he slowly slipped his arm into mine, and guided me toward his car. Like a gentleman, he opened the door for me, and allowed me to get seated before closing it and going over to his side. This was so far away from my everyday routine that it felt like a dream, but we did this sometimes, just to get away from it all, and I admit that I love the mystery and the seduction that weaves around us. I never noticed that my eyes had closed until I felt a velvety soft touch against my left cheek, and I turned my head to look at him. He was offering me three long-stemmed red roses. He had been brushing one against my cheek to catch my attention. I must say that it worked quite well. "I saw these tonight, and I thought of you. The red colour, like fire... that same fire that I know burns within you, underneath that facade that you show to the rest of the world." That fire that he brought out in me started in the pit of my stomach, anxiously waiting for the opportunity to burn out of control for him alone. The tension settled between us as he started the car and drove us away from the restaurant and towards my apartment. Finally, we arrived at my apartment, though it seemed to take forever. He once again went through the motions of escorting me from the car, then, for a moment, I thought he was going to pick me up and carry me to my apartment as if I was his bride and he was carrying me to the bedroom for our first night together as husband and wife. He merely smiled, and escorted me there as he had from the restaurant. Taking the key away from me, he unlocked my door, and followed me inside. There we stood, face to face, and then he went down on one knee before me and took my hand in his, kissing it gently. He spoke quietly, "I just want to look at you." He reached up and pulled the dark green velvet from my shoulders, pushing it past my hips, and when it puddled on the floor, I stepped out of it, and shoved it to one side. That was out of character for me, but at this moment, I didn't care. It was just me and him in the moonlight. After a few moments, I felt his hands move up my thighs to my hips and he slowly rose from his kneeling position. His hands hovered over my breasts for a moment before moving to my shoulders again. It was almost as he was trying to memorize the shape of my body with his hands. He pressed his lips against mine then, and then begged for entrance, which I granted willingly. For endless moments, we stood there, locked in this embrace, as though we were trying to meld our bodies together and make them one. Finally, the laws of nature dictated that we needed air, so I broke the kiss, and tilted my head backwards, allowing him access to my neck, which he took advantage of. "Tell me, Dana, do you want to make love on the hard wood floor, or would you prefer your bedroom?" "The hardwood floor has virtues," I told him with a teasing grin. "However, I think the bed has even more virtues for the moment. It's soft..." "Like you..." he commented, and began to move me towards the bedroom. "What are you doing?" "Escorting you to the bedroom, of course." I stifled a girlish giggle at that, and before I knew it, I felt the back of my knees bump against the mattress, and I was slowly lowered to the surface. He lowered his mouth to my ear and nibbled at the earlobe. Finally, that damn man had stopped talking long enough to use that mouth of his for ... better purposes. I moved my hands up and clenched them in his hair about the same time his hands moved downward to release my breasts from the strapless bra I had worn to compliment the dress. He looked amused as he tossed it in the general direction of the chair. "You look good in green." "You look good in nothing," I responded as I moved my hands to unbutton the dress shirt. "What do you say we do something about that?" "Well," he responded as he moved between my spread legs, "we could do that, but that would cut my fun short," he pouted down at me, and I felt the sudden urge to take that lower lip in my mouth and nibble on it a little. So I did. I wrapped my legs around his hips, my arms around his neck, and devoted a great deal of attention to him. I turned the tables on him, and he didn't know how to react, so he just moaned and thrust his fingers through my hair, knocking it out of the careful style I had put it in for tonight. I didn't care in the slightest. I was having too much fun. While my lips were busy toying with his, my hands were unbuttoning his shirt and shoving it off his shoulders. I pressed my chest against his, and moved against him in a familiar rhythm. He pulled his mouth away from mine again and shook his head. "No, not now. Not like this. I told you. I wanted to have my fun with you first." With that, he untangled my legs from his waist, and laid me down upon the bed, moving to kneel in between my legs so he could hover over me dangerously before moving to wrap his lips around the erect nipple begging for his attention. All at once, I forgot about any of those teasing intentions I had held only moments before, and thrust my hands through his hair, holding him there. While his mouth was busy driving me crazy, his hands continued the job. They brushed down my ribcage, tickling and teasing. I started to squirm against him, and he pressed his hands flat against the satin-covered bones of my hip, then pulled his mouth away. "Now, don't do that. If you continue, this will be anything but a slow seduction." "Maybe I don't want a slow seduction." "But--" "I know I told you that I wanted it slow, but this entire *night* has been a seduction. We can continue this... later," I allowed my voice to trail off suggestively, and I could tell that he got my meaning, since he allowed his hand to trail between my legs. I arched up against him, and he smiled wickedly. "No," I shook my head. "No teasing..." "Oh, why not? Teasing is fun." I slowly moved my hand to cup him through the dress pants he still wore, and he groaned. A slow smile crossed my face, and I nodded in response to his comment, "Yes, teasing *is* fun, but don't you think it would be more fun if you stopped teasing?" "Um," his voice had dropped into this husky tone that sounded really good on him, "maybe." Slowly, I undid the button, and carefully unzipped the pants he wore, sliding them and his briefs down so he could kick them off. Returning the favor, he hooked his thumbs in the satiny green panties and pulled them off. At last, we were skin-to-skin and I relished the contact. After savoring the contact, I rolled on top of him again and straddled him. Teasing both him and myself for a moment, finally, I felt him inside me. It was a good feeling, and one I hadn't felt in quite some time. In fact, the last time I felt this way was the last time I agreed to go on a date with him. Funny how these things work out. When I had just gotten used to the intense feeling of him inside me, he began to move slowly, building the tension in both of us to a boiling point. Then, maddeningly, he stopped. I could have killed him. The thought definitely crossed my mind. I won't say that it didn't. I glared at him, and he grinned at me. "I told you that I wanted to tease." "And *I* told *you* 'no teasing.'" With a slight laugh as I pressed at his shoulder, he started moving again, quicker, moving us both to the edge again. I once again wrapped my legs around his waist, and this time, he didn't stop me. When we peaked simultaneously, I screamed his name and I heard my name on his lips. Slowly, we came back to earth, and I curled into him, feeling like I wasn't going ever going to move away. I mumbled a tired, "Love you..." "Love you too..." He wrapped his arms around me and we both drifted away into slumber. * * * * * The next morning, I awoke on top of him. He was running his hands through my hair, seemingly fascinated by the way it fell across his bare chest. I moved against him slightly, and felt the resurgence of his arousal. I opened my eyes, and he was grinning down at me. "Hey, Scully, would you think less of me as a man if I told you that I was kinda excited right now?" "Mulder, if you were any more of a man, the world would be in serious trouble." "Oh, really?" "Really... now shut up and put that tongue to work, Mulder." "Yes, ma'am." After that, no more words were needed for quite some time. * * * * * -End- More Author's Notes: Oh, c'mon, you didn't think I'd set Scully up with somebody *else* other than Mulder, did you? You know me better. *snicker* I apologize for any out of character actions Mulder might have taken part in, but if he was in character, that would have given away Scully's mystery date, now wouldn't it?