Title : Intersections in Realtime II Author : Kelly Moreland k_a_moreland@hotmail.com Archive : Anywhere, just tell me. Spoilers : None really. Rating : NC-17 Category : RST/MSR Summary : picks up where 'Intersections in Realtime' left off. You should probably read that one first. Feedback : is what keeps me writing. k_a_moreland@hotmail.com Disclaimer : In the big inning, CC created M & S, and the fans saw that it was good. Then CC proclaimed 'Let them have any fun, and I will sue you!' And the fans saw that this was bad, and did it anyway! ;-) Authors note : Finally got around to making a sequel to Realtime 1. :-) xxxxxxxxxxxxx The state trooper had called a tow truck and then had to leave for a domestic disturbance call. Scully had said nothing more about her partner's remark, but she was still thinking of it when he spoke. "So, who was the guy in your dream?" he asked. "Nobody," she lied. "Just a guy." Mulder grunted, and nervously drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. Scully picked at lint on her suit coat. "I am sorry," he said softly, breaking the silence that stretched between them. "How long have you been doing that Mulder?" She didn't have to define 'that'. He knew what she meant, his little calendar. "For three years," he answered hesitantly. She laughed, and shook her head. "I thought that one week out of the month we could stay around the office more. You know, catch up on paper work." He sounded apologetic. "And I never figured it out," she laughed softly again. "I never meant for you to. I wasn't trying to go easy on you, I know you hate the very thought of that. I just knew you didn't feel well around then, so I thought...," he trailed off. Their tension had smoothed out for a few minutes, and he didn't want to say anything to revive it. "It's all right, Mulder. There has just never been a guy who knew so much about me, at least one who I wasn't intimate with. It's a little unnerving." "Sorry," he said again. "There's the tow truck," she pointed out, and wasn't surprised when Mulder leaped from the car to meet the driver. After a moment, she got out and joined them. Mulder turned to her as she walked up, looking decidedly uncomfortable. "We'll have to ride back to town in the truck," he said. "Ok," she shrugged, not understanding the problem. "Scully, his truck has bucket seats," he waited for the implication to sink in. Who ever heard of a damn tow truck with bucket seats, he grumbled to himself. "I'll ride in the car," she offered. "You know that's illegal; not to mention unsafe," he disagreed. "Then I guess I get to ride on your lap." Now she knew why he was so flushed. "I guess so." He looked like he'd just swallowed a bug. A big one. The driver backed up to their car and hooked it up. By unspoken agreement, neither said anything more about the seating arrangements. Mulder had glanced inside the cab of the truck, trying to find an alternate solution, but couldn't. "Just about ready?" The driver, a young man of about twenty, asked as he was securing their car. "Uh, yeah." Mulder replied. He swung into the truck, then held his hand out to her. She took it, and climbed in. The only way for her to do this was to sit sideways on his lap, and even then she had to duck her head slightly. She put her left arm around the back of his headrest, and squirmed trying to get comfortable. This is hell, Mulder thought, but it's exquisite hell. With her arm behind his head, the side of her breast was scant inches from his face. He tried not to look at it, but couldn't stop himself. It occupied most of his field of vision, and all of his attention. Scully wiggled again. "Sit still," he hissed. It was bad enough to have her cute little bottom nestled on his lap, but when she moved it nearly drove him out of his mind. "Just trying to get comfortable," she muttered with a slight grin. "Yeah, right." The driver got in, and started the engine. The drive back was long. Twenty minutes long. Which, Mulder reasoned, was nineteen and a half minutes too long for the sake of his sanity. Every bump in the road caused Scully to be bounced harder against his lap, and there were a lot of pot holes in this section of Pennsylvania. And damn it, they seemed to hit everyone of them. By the time the truck finally came to a stop under the awning of the garage, Mulder was close to either losing his mind, or having the best orgasm of his life. He couldn't decide which. The driver jumped out of the truck, and went to unload the car. "Well," she said when they were alone. "That was .. ah, interesting." Mulder swung the tow truck door open quickly. "Scully, get off my lap." His teeth were clenched, and a flush was creeping up his neck. "Actually I kind of like it here," she teased, before being rudely interrupted. "Now!" He growled. "Yeah. I suppose I should. I'm already going to have a bruise on my hip," she chuckled, as she swung down out of the truck. She waited for a second, but he made no move to follow her. "Are you coming?" He fixed her with a sardonic look, thinking 'damn near'. He jumped down from the truck and walked passed her quickly, heading for the mechanic's office. He could have sworn he heard her laughing as the door swung shut behind him. She was not laughing when he came back out with the news. "Tomorrow afternoon?" She gaped at him. "I even flashed my badge. We're stuck," he sighed disgustedly. "This is like a damn Greek tragedy." "I don't even have a change of clothes, do you?" she asked, breaking into his fate-cursing reverie. "No. We should have been back at the office hours ago. I didn't have any idea...," he trailed off with a sigh. "Fuck," Scully muttered softly. Mulder spun around to stare at her. "Is there at least a motel nearby?" She asked, looking down the street and seeing nothing to give her hope. "Did you just say fuck?" Mulder asked, in an incredulous tone. Scully glared at him, then scanned down the street in the opposite direction, ignoring the question. "Did you ask about a motel?" She prodded. "Yeah. There's a bed and breakfast, about a mile down the road. Did you just say fuck? I've never heard you say fuck." He was actually grinning. "The company I keep must be rubbing off on me," she snorted back. He pursed his lips. "Now I'm bad company?" "I didn't say that. If you were bad company I wouldn't have hung around this long, now would I?" She challenged him. "I guess not," he smiled. "Let's go get rooms, and something to eat. I'm about to starve." "Me too." It was well past seven when they walked into the Greencastle B & B. The rain had stopped, but fate still wasn't smiling upon them. "I can't believe this." Mulder grated under his breath as they walked up the stairs. "It could be worse," she sighed, trying to hide her own annoyance at the latest turn of events. "How?" he laughed harshly. "There could be no rooms, instead of just one," she replied. Mulder didn't answer. They had reached the door, and he unlocked it, swinging it open. Scully burst out laughing in sheer joy. "I'm going back and sleeping in the car," he said, shaking his head and backing away from the open door as if the hounds of hell were in residence there. "Go ahead, I'll stay here," She answered, eyeing the queen- sized, four poster bed with something close to adoration, and brushing by him. Mulder grumbled under his breath and followed her into the room. "You don't think it's beautiful?" she asked, turning around slowly to look at it. "It's great, if you're Martha Stewart," he grimaced, looking about the room. "Wait a second," he whined. "There's not even a TV in here." "How -will- you survive," she chuckled, stepping into the huge bathroom and sighing deeply at the claw foot tub in one corner. Mulder heard her comment, but chose to ignore it, as there was a soft tap on the door. He opened it to see the proprietor, Mrs. Wyndham, holding a heavy tray. He took the tray and thanked her. She informed him that breakfast was between seven and eight the next morning, and bid him good night. Mulder set the tray down on a table in the corner, and started uncovering dishes. "Scully, you hungry?" he called over his shoulder. "Starved. What have we got?" She pulled up a chair on the other side of the table and looked the plates and dishes between them. "What don't we have?" he laughed softly. "Oh, another bed, clean clothes, a toothbrush..." She rattled off the list until he held up his hand. "I meant food-wise." That was the one point she couldn't argue. Food was not a problem. There was baked chicken, German potato salad, peas, carrots, corn, and something that smelled suspiciously like apple cobbler. "I think I've died and gone to heaven," he sighed after the first bite of his desert. "If this is heaven, I'm going to check out the competition," she joked, not ready to admit that a full stomach had made the awkward situation a little more bearable. "Mulder, we need to work something out," she said after they had both leaned back from the table, too full to eat another bite. He shook his head quickly, "I'll take the floor, Scully. You sleep in the bed." "How comfortable do you think you'll be down there?" She eyed the hardwood floor with doubt. "Well, there's only one other alternative," he smiled, not sure he could handle the thought. "Just stay on your side, or I'll shoot you," she shrugged. "I love it when you talk rough, Scully." She rolled her eyes at him dramatically. "Now for the big question," he leaned across the table, his eyes dancing merrily. "Who gets first dibs on the bathroom?" Scully pulled a quarter out of coat pocket, and held it up. "I'll flip you for it." Mulder won the coin toss, and emerged from the steamy bathroom forty-five minutes later, wearing only his slacks. Scully tried not to stare, telling herself not to be silly; it wasn't like she had never seen him shirtless. "Uh... I know you don't have a change of clothes," he said hesitantly, "so, I thought you might want something to sleep in." He held out his dress shirt to her. "Thanks Mulder," she said, feeling herself blushing. She made a hasty exit to the bathroom. When she was gone Mulder slipped out of his pants, and folded them neatly for the next day. He drew back the covers on the bed, and tried not to think about who he'd be sharing it with. It was big enough, that wasn't the issue. The problem was, after the dreams he'd been having, sleeping in the same bed with Scully would be heaven and deadly ground at the same time. He got settled in, wearing just his boxers, and folded the covers neatly over his lap. He picked up the files, the whole reason for this horrible mess, and put on his glasses to read through them. At least they'll take my mind off Scully, he thought to himself. It worked perfectly, until she stepped out of the bathroom wearing nothing but his shirt. He swallowed a sudden lump in his throat, remembering something he'd heard a long time ago: 'Nothing is as sexy as a woman wearing a man's shirt.' His libido agreed completely. Her reaction was well masked, but much the same. She didn't expect to see Mulder propped up in that four poster bed reading the files they had picked up earlier that day. He must have no idea how sexy those glasses are on him, she thought, walking over to the other side of the bed. She didn't say a word, just climbed into bed, mentally kicking herself for not letting him take the floor. It would have been a lot safer for both of them. She curled on her side, facing away from him. "You're going to sleep this early? It's not even ten o'clock." "Mulder, there's not much else to do," she laughed. "I can think of a few things," he replied, his voice low and wistful. "Mulder," she put an edge to her voice, using the one word as a warning. "Scully, I'm shocked," he gasped with exaggeration, and nudged her in the back with one of the file folders. She rolled over quick, and glared, until she saw what he held out. She sat up, propping on a couple of the pillows, and took the file, thinking 'anything to take my mind off this'. After an hour, she was yawning too much to read anymore, and closed the file decisively. "Sleepy?" he asked, when she laid it on the bed between them. Scully nodded, sliding down between the sheets, and adjusting the pillow under her head. "Night, Mulder," she said through another yawn. "Sweet dreams, Scully," he smiled, stacking all the files together on the nightstand, and turning off the light. As soon as he said dreams, her eyes were wide open. She lay still and silent on her side of the bed, all hope of sleep banished by one word. He shifted around on his side, settling into a comfortable position after a few minutes. She waited to hear his breathing fall into a sleep rhythm, so she could relax, but it didn't. "Are you asleep?" he asked softly. "No, Mulder. I'm still awake," she whispered back. "I thought so." "Why?" "Usually, you're snoring by now," he chuckled. "I don't snore." "Yes, you do. But it's a soft, feminine kind of snoring." "Thanks. That makes me feel -so- much better." She rolled onto her back, and saw he was propped on one elbow, watching her. "What?" She asked. "Nothing," he grinned. "I was just thinking that my shirt looks better on you, than it does on me." "Go to sleep, Mulder," she gruffed, hiding a smile, "And sweet dreams." It was still a long time before either one of them drifted off. He could feel silky skin against his chest, a warm, soft body that felt familiar, that felt so right. He ran his hands over her, touching everywhere. Her soft sighs and moans only heightened his pleasure. He moved to cover her slowly, kissing her eyes, and cheeks, and lips, feeling her quiver slightly beneath him. She arched up and he felt her heat, her wetness, pressing against him. He ground his hips into her, impatient with the thin barriers between them. He shoved his boxers down, kissing her still, as she slid her panties off. The feeling of her skin against his was enough to make him break the kiss. "Mmm.. Scully," he moaned softly, his erection nudging at her restlessly. Her legs hooked around the backs of his thighs, and he slid into her easily. "Ohhh," she gasped softly against his cheek, her legs pulling him closer, deeper. His movements were slow and deliberate, savoring each stroke in and out of her body. Her fingers danced along the line of his shoulders, scraping lightly with her nails. Her hips lifting to meet his slow, sure thrusts. ".. love you," she whispered breathlessly to him, as their bodies tensed and strained against each other. He opened his eyes, and looked down at her face, her expression sublime in the early morning light. "I love you, too," he sighed as a shudder ran through him. He sped up as an all-consuming pressure built within him. "Mulder," she called out softly, squirming and twisting beneath him, urging him faster. He drove harder, feeling her body pulsating around his, feeling how close she was. He looked down at her face, her eyes still closed in sleep, and froze. "Scully," he groaned. She arched and moved beneath him, poised on the edge. "Scully, open your eyes. Please, open your eyes." He gasped raggedly. Her eyes fluttered open slowly, as she still moved beneath him, searching, seeking. "Don't stop, Mulder. Don't ever stop," she moaned softly. Her words tore away the last of his restraint, and he thrust into her deeply. She climaxed around him and a moment later, he followed; her name a whispered prayer on his lips. He rolled onto his side, when he could move again, and pulled her tight against his chest. "How long have you been awake?" he asked hesitantly. She laughed softly before answering. "Longer than you have." He looked down at her, half in amusement, half in shock. "Scully, did you seduce me while I was asleep?" "No. You seduced me, while -you- were asleep. I just let you get away with it," she laughed, kissing his chest lightly. "No, you did it. I'm too much of a gentleman to do something like that. It was you. It's your fault." She bit his nipple. "Oww! OK, it was me. I did it. Stop with the teeth," he grinned, twisting away from her a little. She scooted closer to him again, and he wrapped his arms around her, holding on forever. "Much better than any dream," he sighed after a while. "I agree," she murmured sleepily, her eyes closing. "Hey, does that mean -I- was the guy in your dream?" he grinned. "Does it mean -I- was the woman in yours?" she countered, opening one eye to peer up at him. "You always have been, Scully," he answered, tenderly kissing her forehead. "You always have been." Fini~