Title: A Piece of the Action Author: Paige Caldwell Feedback: paigecaldwell@hotmail.com Classification: Post-ep for First Person Shooter, MSR, Comedy Rating: NC-17 Spoilers: BIG SPOILER WARNING....FOR FPS Archive: Please do, just let me know where. Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. Summary: What exactly happened in that immersion module of the FPS Facility? xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx "What the hell happened back there, Scully?" When I reach down to open the car door for my partner, my hand grazes her's. That's when "it" happens... again. The mere touch of her is like coming into contact with a live wire. A jolt of electricity sizzles through every one of my nerve endings, particularly the one that is now as receptive as a lightening rod. Startled, I jerk away my hand, splicing the connection between us. "What's wrong, Mulder?" Scully chuckles. "Still a little agitated?" "Agitated?" I tip my cyber shades, offering my most aloof expression. "Does this face look agitated to you?" "But, I'm not looking at your face." "Then what do you mean by `little'?" "Sorry...." Scully leans over and whispers apologetically to the bulge in my pants. "It was just a poor choice of words." I should have swiped the cod piece rather than the sunglasses. Instead of trying to hide embarrassed eyes, I should have been more concerned with shielding more sensitive telemetry. It can't get any worse. Not after what happened inside the immersion module of the FPS facility. A moment later, I realize that I'm wrong. It's worse.... When Scully's trigger-happy finger curls around my "agitation", I give more than just a "little" yelp. How humiliating... my "girly" squeal. "Well, at least you didn't open fire this time," she laughs, blowing imaginary smoke from her fingertip. "Very funny," I retort. "We came, we saw, and we conquered," Scully taunts me as she gets into the car. "Well, at least one us of conquered. The other one of us just came...." "Now that she's done shooting up the danger zone, Scully tries out for the comedy zone," I scoff, slamming the door. "Well, don't give up your day job, Agent." "Why would I? Being partnered with you is entertainment enough," she replies, grinning at me through the window. Rather than walk around the car, I'm tempted to shoulder roll across the hood to remind her of my prowess and warrior-like agility. Problem is that instead of landing on my feet, I'd rather land on top of her. Right there... right now... in the parking lot. I want to dent the hood with the force of my "not so little agitation" and feel her legs around my back inciting me like a pair of jumper-cables. What the hell happened back there? Was it the game's final explosion that fused Scully to me like smoldering metal? Or, was the meltdown of her resolve, where mouth-to-mouth combat became her game of choice? Whatever it was, I knew I'd lost the game when "it" happened. Without warning, every immature hormonal fantasy became one embarrassing reality. To think the Gunmen described Scully as the "girl wonder of virtual mayhem". Hell, she's more like Calamity Jane, reducing me to a bucking bronco that she broke with her very first ride. "Mulder...." Scully impatiently taps the window, shattering my thoughts. "Want me to ride you back to the corral?" "What did you say?" "I said, do you want me to drive you back to the motel?" Suddenly, I feel the incredible need to blast the crap out of something. Gazing at Scully's smug expression, I nod to myself. Oh yeah, she'll do just fine. *********** "Mulder, what the hell are you doing?" "I dropped my keys." "Between my legs?" Inside the car, his hand grazes the inside of my thighs as he fumbles for more than just the keys. "Mulder..." "It's just a little dark in here." "Try taking off those ridiculous glasses," I suggest. "Scully, can you please just push your seat back a little?" he asks. Because he's playing polite rather than obnoxious, I reach for the lever. That was my first mistake. Giving it a quick pull, I find myself in full descent mode. Flat on my back, I realize that he's outmaneuvered me. "Very funny, Mulder." "I thought so," he says, laughing as he digs deeper for the keys. His forearm is methodically brushing the crotch of my pants. "Hey, I think I can feel my way." "Mulder...." "Hang on, Scully." Mulder leans over my lap so his big nose can get in on the act. "Just a little bit lower..." I find myself hanging on, alright. By a "little" thread... Mulder may be rubbing all the right places for the wrong reasons, but he's applying enough friction that I'm about to spark like a flintlock pistol. "Got 'em," he announces suddenly. I can't help but groan in frustration when Mulder dangles the keys over my eyes. "What's wrong, Scully?" My partner grins mischievously. "Still a `little' agitated?" "You know, Mulder..." I snap, "... thong babe isn't the only woman capable of delivering triple spin kicks to your face." "Bring it on," he responds in a challenging voice. "And, bring the thong with you." "Maybe we should have you wear it," I counter. "Can't wear the speedo now that it's your credo." We both laugh at that one. "Why don't we just take this game to the next level, Scully" Mulder proposes. "How?" I snort "By dropping the keys inside my pants?" "Not the keys," he chuckles, wiggling his fingers. "Just a demonstration of my lock-picking techniques." "Does this mean I get to play the Pentagon?" "After seven years waiting for security clearance, I think I'm ready to try the access code," Mulder murmurs as his hand slides down the inside of my pants. Oh my God... Within seconds, Mulder's in "the zone". And, he's re- routing my circuitry with every pulse of his finger. Or, should I say fingers? Talk about digital mayhem. I should have known that his touch would make my adrenaline redline. I think that's why I've been avoiding it. Panting, straining against him, I suddenly see a flash of light outside the window. "Somebody's coming," I gasp. "So I see," he smirks. "No, you dope," I grab his shoulders and try to push him away. "Not me..." "What the hell's going on in there?" a voice reverberates through the window. To be found like this, with my partner's hand down my pants and my five inch heels scratching the glass of the windshield... how humiliating.... The security guard waves his flashlight into our car. Recognizing us, he chuckles and turns discretely away. As he walks back to the facility, I can hear him speak into his radio. "It's just our two action-packed heros," he relays in an amused voice. "Yeah, the moron's still trying to get his ya-ya's off." "Think he means me?" Mulder whispers, his hand still wedged between my legs. "Shut up, Mulder." I squirm uncomfortably, tugging at his arm. "Would you please get your digits off my keypad?" "I can't," he hisses back. "Not until your unlock your knees." Suddenly we freeze, silenced by the guards next words. "Listen, it'll always be a woman's game. The sooner he realizes it, the sooner he'll get a piece of the action." That's when "it" happens. I don't know if it's the mortified look on my partner's face or the fact that his shirt sleeve is caught in the zipper of my slacks. Either way, I begin to laugh. And, it's the tremors of absurd humor that finally push me over the edge. When I begin to howl, Mulder clamps his free hand over my mouth. Stunned, he watches my body convulse with hilarity and released sexual tension. "What the hell was that?" he asks, moments later. "An orgasm," I advise, still laughing under my breath. "Or, as you would put it `an outlet for certain impulses'." "I don't think I like playing with you, Scully," Mulder says, pouting as he starts the engine. "What if I promise you a re-match?" "I think I'll pass." "Mulder, how many miles are we from the motel?" "About twenty," he answers, giving me a side-long glance. "Why?" "T-minus twenty..." I click my tongue like the timer of a stop watch. "Are you offering me a piece of the action, Scully?" "Mulder, I'm offering you the full engagement." When I rest my hand on his thigh, his foot slams the pedal to the metal. We both laugh. The game's not over. It's just beginning.