TITLE: TOWER OF STRAWS AUTHOR: JACQUIE LAVA RATING: NC-17 CATEGORY: MSR KEYWORDS: FIRST TIME, ALTERNATE POVs TIMELINE: 6TH SEASON THEREABOUTS SPOILERS: "Pilot", "Triangle", "Arcadia", "FTF" and various other Season 6 spots. DISCLAIMER: Well, somebody has to make them plank the livin' daylights outta each other! And we all know CC's not up to it... SUMMARY: It only takes one straw to break that camel's back - or one Fox Mulder! XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX - Part One - At least once in every human being's life, there comes a moment when they have had enough; when that last little bit of something gathering momentum over the years builds into enough of a tower of straws that the final heaping straw just knocks them all into the dust. I suppose I always knew this day would come... when that final something would push me into such a state that I would flatten all the straws. In this instance, my straws were all labeled... with Fox Mulder's name. Six years of being with him. Six years of having a partner in every sense of the word, save one. And six years of having that same partner loom in my personal breathing space; touch just about every inch of my body with hands that should have been deemed illegal on the day he was born... gaze at me with absolutely the most beautiful eyes in the world. Six years of life with Mr. Clueless. I've been a very patient woman, honestly I have. And I have run out of ways to protect my heart from countless bouts of nervous anticipation. At first I just chalked it up to excessive amounts of male-up-close. After all, this is an intensely sensuous man. From head to toe, he exudes it; the very air surrounding him vibrates with it. From the first moment I met him; touched his hand in greeting... I've been building a tower of straws. That first year, I was (at times) some sort of game to him, I think. Oh, I never really challenged him about it; I was too uptight for that. Young and idealistic; needing to prove myself over and over to a bunch of 'Old-School' Feds who treated female agents as nothing more than airheads... well, at least it seemed that way to me. I am now sure I overreacted quite a bit. But I certainly walked into that basement office with 'attitude'... only to be knocked flat on my rounded ass at the very look of him, standing there in shirtsleeves, with those sexy glasses and that hair... that smile... those eyes... that... everything. All during that first momentous meeting, his voice washed over me and I could feel myself tighten inside, my inner protective mechanism immediately erecting a fort around my emotions. And then, in the middle of it all; while I was reeling with the effort of holding myself together with the glue of professionalism - Mulder sent that hooded look my way, and his words may have not reeked of desire, but his low silky drawl sure did. He spoke of belief in the existence of extra-terrestrials... but he may as well have been saying, "Do you believe in the existence of Lust at first sight..." The result was the same. First straw. I refuse to believe my actions that fateful day - the day my straws collapsed - was the result of nothing more than enforced abstinence. Mainly because I refuse to believe that my abstinence was enforced. I never considered myself aloof, icy, prudish or anything else I'd been labeled over the years. But what I did consider myself was selective. My lifestyle was my choice, my selection - mine. I had plenty of opportunities to meet, melt and mate... they were all around me. Men, that is. Remember where I worked... we're talking a man's world here, though the modern woman in me cringed to admit it. There were lots of men in my immediate vicinity. Most of them were decent; some of them were handsome. There were even a few handsomely decent ones. Enough single ones, as well... nice ones. None of them ever came close to Mulder. That was the entire problem, in one economically put-together nutshell. I would walk the halls of the FBI, with my partner at my side - always curved a bit protectively over my smaller self - and women would come out of their offices, and stare. The married ones and the single ones; any age group - they all had a crush on Mulder. He would always smile politely; always ask after somebody's health. Always keep right on walking, with that one strong hand guiding the small of my back. After the first few years, I decided I must be one hell of an actress - because nobody ever suspected how I really felt about the man. Including the man himself, I guess... because he never stopped trying to get my prissy little goat. And I never stopped stacking straws. All too soon it became the norm with us. I would say something completely professional and wholly innocent... and Mulder would hand me a straw. I could tick them off, one by one: "Scully... what are you wearing?" "I just got very turned on..." "Scully, are you coming on to me?" "Let's get it on, honey..." "Hey Scully, should we be picking out china patterns or what?" And my favorite, so to speak; the one that almost broke me... "Marry Me..." It was all I could do to swallow the sudden tears, when he crooned those words into my ear. By then I was firmly entranced with my partner, and fighting a daily battle to stay on even ground with him. Coming up with definitive, suitably-bland responses had become harder and harder. Keeping my hands to myself, other than a longing touch coated in professional caring... so tough to maintain. I found myself wrapping my words in the occasional blanket of ice just to keep my balance and my sanity. Some cases we worked were worse than others; that disaster in Arcadia comes to mind. But even with all the suggestiveness and the double-entendres and Mulder being nothing more than just Mulder... I was able to survive it without allowing my straw tower to topple. Although during those agonizing several days my close proximity to a grinning, teasing Mulder was not easy - I hung onto those straws. I cannot make that proud claim any longer... for my tower of straws just toppled, in the most embarrassing way possible. I should have seen it coming. I should have tightened the grip on my patience and my cool. I know this now. Six years of hanging on; I was an expert at the raised eyebrow and the killjoy manner, when putting my partner in his place. And the remark he made, the physical overture that accompanied it... not nearly as blatant as he'd dished out before, to me. That was the odd thing about it; the odd thing about all final straws. It's not the content so much as that minuscule weight of said straw; the slight momentum of its tiny bulk just enough of an impetus to send the whole thing crashing down. Well, mine sure did. We were outside Skinner's office, of all places - we had a meeting scheduled and he was running late. We'd been up to our earlobes in slides that morning, down in the basement, and I was already tired from too little sleep the night before. The prospect of a 'pop' meeting with our boss when I wasn't at my most coherent - well, I would have liked nothing better than to have refused to go up. In fact I mumbled as much into the general vicinity of Mulder, hunched over a pile of slides; without looking up he mumbled back, "Like we have a choice, Scully." I had dropped the phone back in its cradle and grumbled some more. "He says we've been requested on a case, something shaping up to be an X-file - he wants to see us in ten minutes." I ignored the faint, disgruntled, "Well, Whoopee Pickle" emanating from my partner's mouth and pushed back my chair, reaching for the hairbrush and tube of lipstick I kept in my purse. Tossing a "Back in a minute" over my shoulder, I'd headed to the bathroom on the first floor and stood in front of the mirror attempting to smooth my hair and re-apply my lipstick. I stared into my reflected eyes, noting new lines around them and shadows underneath that were not apparent two days ago... my own fault, for letting my mind keep me awake yet another night. Still thinking back to our last case; still hearing those words of Mulder's echoing in my head: "Admit it - you just want to play house..." Yes, I did - I wanted to play house. I fought like mad against it, as well - knowing that it would have been at best a completely false premise; knowing that for all my wishing and hoping Mulder would never be anything more than the ultimate tease. Sometimes I wondered if he knew any other way to be; that in the protection of his heart and soul, in the guarding of his emotions he had built a little fortress of self-derision all around him. Oh, I knew he cared for me, deeply cared. How could I not? He'd gone to Hell and back to save me, countless times. As a partner, as a friend... I knew. I also knew I couldn't hope that there would be anything more between us than just deep friendship and abiding trust. I wondered - of course I did. After the events leading up to the rescue at Wilke's Land, I wondered. My God, we'd come a hair of kissing, on the lips... how could I help but wonder? But three days after we were back in DC, less than a week after my frostbitten cheeks had begun to heal... we were right back in full-tease mode, as if we'd never left it. The innuendo and the touches, the sexual banter from Mulder and my typical icy response... all the same as ever. Like a bad habit impossible to break - How I had wanted to break it. I would have given anything to break it... but I couldn't. WE couldn't. And I found myself bypassing Mulder's flippant vows as easily as I had always done, finding yet another way to fortify those damn straws, and keep on building that tower. The human animal always finds a way to self-preserve - self- protect. But the tower was so, so unsteady, as it grew taller. Firmly pushing the unwelcome retrospect out of my tired brain, I finished dabbing at my lips and left the bathroom; walked back to the office and grabbed a notebook. Mulder was just packing up the slides; he slammed the file shut and leveled a quizzical glance my way. I shrugged and nodded toward the open door; preceded him back out into the hallway and felt his hand settle in its usual place, at the small of my back. Up to Skinner's office, neither of us saying a word. Our silence was comfortable, as always. And once outside the AD's office, discovering Skinner had been detained - we sat side by side and waited. Kimberly had also been detained in the same meeting and so we were alone in the reception area. I crossed one leg over the other and contemplated the toe of my black pump while Mulder stretched out his long legs and twiddled his thumbs and generally fidgeted, a lot. No more or no less than Mulder usually did - however, this time it really bugged me. Why, I have no idea... but I finally heaved a big sigh, and tapped my fingernails on the arm of my chair in impatience. "Mulder, can't you sit still for one minute?" The fidgeting paused momentarily, while Mulder turned to look at me in surprise at the tone of my voice. We stared each other down for a long moment, before he treated me to one of his quirky, calculated little 'Aren't I Cute' grins of his. "You've never been bothered by my fidgets before, Scully - what's the matter? Didn't get any quality sleep last night because you were too busy dreaming about me, hmmm?" Mulder waggled his eyebrows in my shocked face, before dropping his eyes and looking down at my left knee, still crossed over the right one. His index finger reached out and traced a run in my hose, visible from about two inches above the knee; following it down the path of my calf until it stopped right above my ankle. I sucked in a gasp, just as he murmured idly, "You've got a run in your stockings, Partner..." And as he lifted his finger and moved his hand back onto the arm of his own chair... I snapped. That single digit had been warm and tingling and maddeningly sensuous on my leg; it had actually burned. An innocent gesture. One of many such innocent gestures, I suppose... like pushing stray locks of hair behind my ear, or wiping barbecue sauce off the corner of my mouth. Or fingering my necklace - Just one more innocent touch, an observation, of sorts... Last straw. As I said, I snapped, right in AD Skinner's receptionist's office. Door wide open, in the middle of a typical FBI day, people all over the building, on every floor and milling around the bull-pen... I'd had it. I found myself out of my chair and leaning over Mulder's, face to face, pushing myself into his personal space for a change... observing the suddenly wary look in his eyes with great satisfaction, as I growled at him. "Stop. Touching. Me. Mulder. Stop it. You can also knock off the fucking sexual remarks. Six years of it - enough already. Do you have ANY idea what those remarks do to me? What your incessant touching does to me? Your constant teasing?" I was almost nose to nose with Mulder by this point, noting the way his hazel eyes had widened and darkened, his mouth open in shock. I leaned in another inch, and added, "How would you react if I did it to you, 'Partner'? How would YOU like a hand on YOUR leg..." And I dropped a hand on his knee and started moving it north, up the expanse of wool and the tight muscle it covered, watching his Adam's apple jump nervously... "How would YOU like something suggestive whispered in your ear, something that would make you absolutely crazy?" As I uttered the last few words, my hand reached his wool-covered crotch, and without even thinking about the consequences of my deed, I let my hand cup him, and I pressed down. Hard. When I felt the heat and steel of his erection under my hand and heard the strangled groan Mulder breathed in the tiny space between us, I let go - in a dousing panic realizing just what the hell I was doing... and finding it far worse than any supposed sexual license I had ever thought he'd taken with me. I snatched my hand away and hastily stepped back, bringing my shaking fingers to my mouth in total shock. I could feel my eyes tearing up, as I stared down into Mulder's equally-shocked face... and I turned on one four-inch heel and bolted from the office, almost knocking our boss and his secretary over in my attempt to flee. I ignored his sharp, "Agent Scully!" I fled. I ran out of the Hoover building as if demons snapped at my ankles; flagged down the first cab I saw. As the cab wound its way through downtown DC I replayed it over in my mind... the smell of my aroused partner; the feel of him under my hand - the startled awareness in his beautiful hazel eyes - and I slid down in my seat and dropped my hot face into my hands and stayed in that position, all the way home. It wasn't until the cab pulled up in front of my building that I remembered I'd left my purse and my coat in the basement. Luckily I had a couple of twenties jammed into my blazer pocket, left over from breakfast. I paid the cabbie and ran into the building, detouring briefly to the manager's office to get a spare key. Thankfully he never asked me a thing, just walked me to my door and opened it for me. I locked up behind me and went straight to my bedroom, flinging myself down upon the bed face-down. If I never had to move again, it would be just fine by me... ******************* I may just be the King of Obtuse Assholes. In fact, I'm sure there's an organization out there somewhere, entitled, "King Obtuse Asshole Club", and they're searching for a president. They haven't found me yet, though... but I have a feeling they're getting close. I sat in my car outside of Scully's apartment. I'd been sitting there for about an hour, or two... don't know, I lost track. After she ran out of Skinner's office, leaving me to fabricate a reason for her sudden departure - I've been thinking. Dangerous past-time - me thinking, that is. I try not to do it in depth very often, when we are off-case. It's safer that way. Think of the case, concentrate on the upcoming fray, so to speak... but don't dig anywhere else, that's a good boy. Ignore it; it'll go away. Always has, in the past. Not now, though - and I think, maybe not ever again. I had to wait a full five minutes before I could stand up, and walk out of Kimberly's reception area. Five minutes of willing my body to calm itself, while Skinner stood over me and those damn all-seeing eyes of his bore down on me. Of course the sheet of wire-rimmed glass over each one has never diminished their power to dissect; rather it intensifies those sharp little scalpels. "Well, Agent Mulder? Care to enlighten me? I call you and Agent Scully up to my office for a meeting, and she bolts before it can even begin?" Out of the corner of my eye I saw Kimberly ease her way out the door; probably headed to the ladies room to see if Scully was hiding in there. I found myself wondering the same thing, as I met Skinner's narrowed glare and tried to figure what the hell I could say to excuse Scully's abrupt exit. I could imagine the reaction should I tell him the truth: "Well, Sir... Agent Scully found it necessary to absent herself from the meeting, after an encounter between her hand and my hard-as-a- rock Johnson..." Oh, yeah - that would go over quite well. I fought the urge to laugh out loud with insane purpose, and kept my voice vague and mild-mannered - rather like Clark Kent, I suppose. "Sir, I think Scully was feeling ill from that breakfast we'd had this morning - she ate a shrimp quiche and I'd bet the combination of shellfish and cream - and cheese - just about did her in. I warned her not to eat it, I said to her, 'Scully, if you eat that you'll be sorry' - but I doubt she knew it would upset her to the point of needing to purge it all and really, Sir, she's not bulimic in the least, just needed to get rid of it and everyone knows that purging is the best -" My inane attempt at cover-up was interrupted by a loud, impolite snort from our boss, whose eyebrows had scrunched themselves into one long line of irritation over his eyes. "AGENT! Get a grip! Although I have a difficult time believing that Agent Scully would willingly eat anything so odd as shrimp quiche for breakfast - and I know by agonizing past experience that to probe further will just result in another headache which I would rather avoid this early in my workday, given the load on my desk... I'll just cancel the meeting for now. I assume she went home, correct?" At my helpless nod, Skinner sighed and also nodded, then continued, "All right. Go and check on her. The last thing I need right now is a sick agent. There has been some nasty flu going around; Kimberly was out with it last week. We'll postpone the meeting until tomorrow." With another abrupt nod in my direction, Skinner turned and strode into his office, banging the door closed behind him. I let out a breath I didn't even know I'd been holding and walked over to the door, almost colliding with Kimberly. She smiled up at me and shook her head at my questioning look. "No, I didn't see her, Agent Mulder. Maybe she just went home, if she wasn't feeling well." I nodded and left the reception area, skipping the elevator in favor of running down the stairs. My mind was a total blank, as I reached the basement and walked back into our office. She hadn't come down here, this I saw right away. Her purse and briefcase, plus her coat - all still in place. I scooped everything up and headed for the parking garage, figuring I'd find a way to get her car back to her as well, since it was still parked in its spot. And now I sat, outside of Scully's building, and wondered what in hell I was going to say to her. I'd known for a long time that I've been skating on thin ice with my partner, inasmuch as the teasing and the comments I always make to her. Truly, I was amazed she hadn't called me out sooner. I can be a snide moron, and rude as can be. Self-preservation, perhaps? Oh, yeah. Immature, as well - I have a great handle on my child-like side. A defense mechanism, that's what it's always been. From the moment I first clapped eyes on Dana Scully I have been firmly in protective mode. Protecting my heart, my emotions - me. I never considered myself prime husband material, or solid daddy fodder. I had too many hang-ups, too much excess baggage to unload, and I could never see myself willing to inflict it all on any poor unsuspecting female. I had my share of dating and of trying to balance relationships with a career that was rapidly evolving into a goddamn life quest. I gave up after a series of badly-executed flops. Women and the FBI just did not mix. Oh, I know of agents who have families and outside lives and are wonderfully happy and well- adjusted. I never thought that sort of bliss would be my goal. My mother once called me 'the ultimate loner'. At the time it made perfect sense to me, for my own mother to see me that way. Even when Samantha was still at home with us I was a loner. Sam was the one with little gal-pals; I was the solitary basketball player shooting rims by myself on the school court, in the evenings when everyone was gone. I had a few buddies; I took one girl to the prom. My buddies didn't even know I had a sister, were never invited to my house. The girl I took to the prom... I never danced with her. I merely escorted her and then spent much of the evening drinking punch and listening to the band trying to play disco and failing miserably. My date danced with three other guys and went home with one of them. I broke into the gym and swiped a basketball and shot hoops in my rented tux. Did I mind? Not at all. In fact, I barely noticed. Such is the state of the true loner. That state was challenged severely when I gained Scully as a partner. Suddenly I was accountable for another partner; I'd had them before but not a very successful merging. Even more unsuccessful than my relationship with former partners... my try at having a partner who was also... a partner. Big mistake; one I could not imagine repeating. And yet, when I met Scully and found myself on that initial case with her, I also found myself in danger of letting history repeat itself. Did I panic? Oh hell, yes. I'd been on my own quite a while before I acquired Scully. And within just a few weeks of being her partner I knew she'd be the only partner I would ever want. She challenged me; she took zero guff from me and she grounded me in a way I'd never been grounded before. She trusted me - nobody had ever trusted me like that, in my past... at least, not since my sister. I liked it. No, I found I loved it. I loved her... Scully. I love my partner. I have loved her for a very long time, long before I ever marched down a dim hallway to stop her from leaving me and instead laid claim to one almost-perfect moment of happiness in my life, when I got to barely touch her lips with mine - before all hell broke loose. I love her - and I am so, so bad for her. And I knew that I could never act upon the urges within me, urges that grow in strength each and every day of my life. So I began to play the buffoon early on in our partnership, the role coming naturally to me and cushioning my already bruised heart to a degree of continuing functionality, around her. See, this way I could touch her. I could murmur the most outrageous things to her, under the guise of the fool - and she'd just laugh them off, shrug them away. It became our game, of sorts - and I played it very well. She never knew - never. How much I adore her, would die for just a taste of her love. The proof of my success at the game was put to the test when I, in a weakened and drugged state declared my love for her, right into her face... and her muttered, "Oh Brother", made me realize just how good I was. Too good... because at the one moment in my loner life that I wanted Scully to understand and accept my love - finally know it and embrace it... she didn't believe me, thought I was doing my usual song and dance on her. After that it was just too easy to slip back into my regularly-established role, of funny boy to her straight man. I never guessed how much my long-running idiocy had been affecting her, until today. I forced myself out of my car and walked into her building, grabbing the stairs instead of the elevator. In my hands I carried her purse and her briefcase; over one arm I had her coat. I sprinted up the stairs, eager to see her - but as I drew closer to her door I found myself slowing down. I had no illusions that she'd welcome me into her home at this moment. In fact, she'd probably tell me to go to Hell, or worse... send me home without a glimpse of her lovely face. Send me away without a chance to redeem myself in any form. What form I wanted to take when redeeming myself... well, I wasn't sure. I only knew I couldn't leave it alone. I reached her door and knocked on it with two sharp raps. I pressed my ear to the painted wood and listened for her footsteps. I heard nothing for at least three minutes. I had just raised my hand to knock again when I heard her voice echoing faintly behind the door. "Go away, Mulder." Well, at least she'd used my name instead of 'Asshole'... Absurdly glad to hear her voice, even if it was angered, and relieved to see she'd thought to look out of her peephole first - I made my own voice as soothing as possible and called to her, not above begging to be allowed entry. "Please, Scully... let me in. I've got your stuff with me - and you know you're gonna need your purse sooner or later, not to mention your briefcase. Please... we have to talk about this." I didn't elaborate on what 'this' constituted, for neither of us were stupid people. I leaned my forehead against the door and watched the doorknob, willing it to turn. A full two minutes went by before she spoke again. "Mulder... I can't open the door to you, right now. I can't find the words to explain the lunacy that made me react the way I did, to you. I am very, very embarrassed right now, okay? Please just leave it - please." Her voice was a little shaky, a little broken - and right on the other side of the door. I sighed and slid down to the floor, sitting up against her door frame. I placed my hand on the doorknob and jiggled it a little, to let her know how close I was. I couldn't let this fester and get worse. I couldn't let this become bricks, which could then be used to create a wall that Scully could retreat behind. I couldn't bear for that to happen. I jiggled the knob again. "If you won't open the door, will you at least talk to me, through the door? Please, Scully... I am begging you, to talk to me." "No." My shoulders slumped when I heard that one soft negative float through the wood and metal separating us. I dug in my coat pocket for my cell phone and dialed her number, hoping against hope that she would get up and go to her cordless phone, would pick it up, perhaps thinking it was her mother on the other end... "Scully." I sucked in another deep relieved breath, and spoke quickly. "Scully, don't hang up, please! Don't hang up. Talk to me this way, if you can't do it face to face. Please let me apologize to you..." I heard a long pause, then her voice - sounding so disbelieving, in my ear. "You want to apologize to me. Mulder, what the hell for? I should be doing all the apologizing, Jesus! I acted in a very unprofessional manner. I grabbed your... I grabbed you! God, what must you be thinking!" Her voice broke and I heard several sniffles in my ear. Oh, Scully... I struggled to make her listen; make her see. I let my voice drop to a low murmur. "Scully, listen to me. I know the way you have always perceived the asinine things I say to you, the jokes and the innuendo-laden spew I send your way. You've been putting up with it for so long... and sometimes I feel that I have been dishing it out for so long that I don't know any other way to act. But I started it six years ago because I was afraid you'd get too close to me, find out what Fox Mulder was really all about - and you'd want to run a mile from me. And I needed you so badly - right from the first I needed you. It was easier to keep you close to me if I could find a way to distance you. I'd say something obnoxious and you'd roll your eyes and chalk it up to just another stupid male-soaked remark - and you'd stay by my side anyway. It made me feel as happy as I could ever hope to be, to know that you'd stay with me." The silence on the other end of our fragile connection was deafening, but at least she was listening to me. I took another fortifying breath and continued. "It seems as if all the serious conversations we've had, the deeply meaningful gestures between us - they've been couched in some sort of tragedy. When you were so sick; when my father died - when Missy died. I could touch you then, hold you in my arms and feel your skin alongside mine - and it was somehow okay because it was a comfort for both of us. Once, we almost kissed... and it was a direct result of yet another tragedy - you leaving me. The things I said to you, the way we embraced and that touch of our lips - it was acceptable to us. Sadness ruled our emotions and we could give vent to them, safely. It becomes a different story whenever we're balanced, and happy. I start acting like a jerk and you raise that one eyebrow, and let me." I broke off at the tiny sigh Scully released in my ear. Her voice was equally low and mostly steady, when she replied. "You're right, Mulder. Absolutely right. I let you. I have been letting you, for six years. And each time I let you, I stacked it in a neat pile and let it grow. I was thinking it has been growing rather like a tower of straws. Getting taller and taller, bound to topple over someday - like today. And maybe you've been saying the words but I am solely responsible for the way I have responded to them. And for the way I have expected you to know, as if by magic, what is in my heart when I have never bothered to tell you. For that, I am really sorry." Those last words of hers were very softly spoken, and I barely heard them because I was too busy digesting the first part of her sentence... 'To know as if by magic what is in my heart'... My own heart started to pound furiously and I reached up to twist at the knob again. I put my mouth up against the receiver of my cell phone and my voice was little more than a groaning rasp. "Scully, let me in. I can't do this with a wall between us. I am tired of the walls between us; aren't you? I'm as guilty of erecting them, with my idiotic words and equally idiotic deeds, as you ever were for stacking those straws of yours. Today I ran a finger down your leg because you were sitting so close to me and the need I had to touch you far outweighed the sensibility of taking those sorts of chances in Skinner's office. I could smell you, Scully - and you smelled so good - and I just had to touch you. And I couldn't justify any sort of reason, dredge up any sort of right to touch you, in any serious way - so I made it yet another joke." My voice dropped even more, until I was whispering into the phone; whispering all the longing and all the love in my heart, right into her ear. "I want to have the right, Scully. I want to be able to reach out when you're next to me, and touch you - and have it mean something, to both of us. I want to be able to take you in my arms for the pure joy of it, not because one of us is in pain and the other feels compelled to soothe that pain. I ache for it, to be given the right to hold you close and laugh out loud, right in your ear. I ache more and more every day, for it - please, open the door." I pressed my ear hard to the receiver - and heard silence. Dead silence. A long, drawn-out silence... and I closed my eyes in defeat and put my cell phone down on the floor, beginning to rise to my feet, preparing to leave her purse and her other things there by her door for her to retrieve later... And the door lock clicked - and the sound of the security chain sliding back was suddenly the sweetest sound in the world I had ever heard. I blew out a soft, heartfelt thanks to the Heavens above and placed my hand once more on the knob, and turned it - overjoyed to feel it give under my hand and allow me to push in the door; to enter her apartment - to face my partner, standing there on the other side. ******************** I unlocked the door and I could barely see through the tears clogging my eyesight. I reached out and laid shaky fingers upon the doorknob, afraid to open it... afraid not to. And for one small second I actually thought that once again Mulder was teasing me. That unwelcome and rotten thought was banished as soon as I thought it up. This was a man I had known for six years; that same man who'd saved me time and time again - from the insane mutant and from the most heinous criminal... from cancer. From myself, most of all - From loneliness. Most of all, he'd saved me from that. How could I think he'd be pulling my leg? I twisted the deadbolt with one hand as I slid back the security chain with my other, and took a tiny step back. I fastened my burning eyes on the way the door pushed in, slowly. In some inanely nervous piece of my brain I kept repeating, "Mulder has entered the building..." and my heart pounded in my chest. All this, because the man I'd long ago given that heart to had pressed his face to the outside of my door and had declared his overwhelming need to touch me in joy. How wonderful was that...? I was about to find out. In my open doorway we stood face to face, and stared at each other. I could feel my face trying to break into this huge grin, the kind that would actually hurt when issued. I guess Mulder was in the same condition because his smile was sudden and wide and the stretch of it extended all the way up to his eyebrows. I retreated back a little, and he stepped forward, a lot - and both his hands came out to grasp me, warm hands with damp palms that laid hold of my upper arms and tugged gently, then not so gently - until he'd gained enough of a hold on me to yank me hard against him. Right up against him, shoulder to shoulder and hip to hip... I was off my feet and hanging in mid-air, and I could feel every happy inch of him. I slid my trembling fingers up his chest over his cotton dress shirt, over his wide shoulders and plunged all ten digits into that silky cool hair of his - Suddenly it was too much; his face was too close, those beautiful eyes delving too far inside me. I wasn't ready for this, I panicked to myself! In several short minutes we'd gone from loving friends to probable loving lovers, difficult enough to accept with a locked door between us. I couldn't hold the honesty of the look I was receiving from Mulder; I buried my face in his neck and refused to come out, fighting the tender palm that pressed into my chin and tried to dislodge me. His voice rumbled out in uneven puffs close to my ear. "Scully? You're not chickening out on me, are you? Not now, not after all we've just told each other. Come on, I know you. You're braver than this." I shook my head, hard; refused to budge, sighing when Mulder left that palm cupped around my chin and just went on holding me. I sighed again and let my ragged whisper tickle the skin of his neck. "Not a chicken-out, Mulder... just have to acclimate myself to the altitude up here. It's the first time we've touched just for the need of it, and that need having nothing to do with you getting shot or me getting attacked. I'm not used to it..." It was true. I wasn't used to having a man up against my body and knowing he was there just for me, awaiting my pleasure. I wasn't used to the tender bands of muscled arm that wound me into another's heart; unaccustomed to the sudden right I had, to touch this man. No joking - no tease. No sly innuendo. Just the honesty. So much that I found myself blinking rapidly as if a bright light shone on me. Well, in a way, it did... For long minutes we stood like that, in the tiny hallway of my apartment. Off my feet and inside Mulder's arms, my unlaced sneakers dangling off my feet. No talking, just deep and even breaths. Touching each other - getting to know each other. Learning our skins in a whole new way; a way we'd never before dreamed we'd be allowed to know. A way we'd never let ourselves know - and it was very nice. The smile I'd previously felt breaking on my face got shoved into Mulder's neck, growing and widening there until he had to feel the ridge of my front teeth right on his skin. The foolish grin made me much braver and I was able to pull my face out from its hiding place and actually look up into his eyes. I couldn't help but worry, just a little - what I might find there, in that hazel stare. Oh, God, Mulder... The look in his eyes almost did me in. Nobody in my entire life had ever gazed at me this way. As if I had become their world, their only link to what was good and right. I lost myself in river-clear eyes damp with emotion and it felt so familiar. It felt like home. It was home, for me, and for Mulder too. The silence stretched between us but it was a good silence, so welcome after years of unnecessary banter. This silence was alive with what we were just beginning to fathom, about each other; words were not needed. But touch, and tactile purpose... oh, yes. Most definitely a vital necessity. And just as I knew we were both dying to kiss, I also knew Mulder would not make the first move; would let me set the pace. Somehow I knew. After six years of life with the former Mr. Clueless I figured I could handle that first move. I tightened my arms around his neck and hung on, still off my feet with my shoes falling down. I reached up a little and Mulder leaned down a bit, and the kiss we'd begun all those months and months ago in Mulder's dim hallway was allowed to regenerate, at last. The feel of his mouth against mine, the way those full lips of his clung and rubbed themselves on my mouth almost like a contented cat would rub against the ankles of the human they loved best - God. I wanted it to last forever. It had to last, forever... I'd waited so long for this. Then he opened his mouth and invited me inside, and anything I thought I'd ever known about kissing slipped right down the drain. The one main thought I was able to retain, however, was that Mulder and I had somehow been made to kiss each other. And I marveled at the way I'd managed to exist for as long as I had, in this sorry world - without knowing how supremely well-suited our mouths were, to caress each other. The formal exchange of heat and moisture involved in a kiss; the taste of tongue and the satiny feel of the inner mouth - everything I had remembered about it got trampled into the dust when Mulder and I kissed. His mouth was almost too full and lush for me to handle but oh, how I loved trying. His tongue felt heavenly inside my mouth, and every gentle movement of his lips on mine screamed out at me to see, and accept, his adoration. It was humbling. The tenor of our breathing increased as our passion escalated, and for me it was surreal as hell, to feel that sort of passion for a man. This man... I had never considered myself a passionate woman. Not until now... not until Mulder. The kiss went on for endless seconds longer, before he finally released my mouth and allowed my body to slide down against his, until my feet could reach the floor. I pressed into him and locked eyes with him, knowing with certainty that mine had to be as dark with need, as his appeared in the shadowed hallway mere steps away from my bedroom. As if reading my mind, Mulder started to lead me in that direction, both arms still around me in a warm cradle as he walked me backward - then suddenly he stopped and stared down at me intently. One hand cupped my cheek as his shaky rasp of a voice broke the silence between us. "I want... Scully - Oh Jesus, you know what I want. What I've always wanted and never had the guts to ask for. What I thought I'd never have the right to receive, from you. But I don't want to rush this. I don't want to rush you." I couldn't believe what I was hearing; somehow I had always imagined that if Mulder and I ever became intimate his need would supersede mine and I'd get swept away in the moment. How I'd come by that imagining I have no idea, except I'd long ago figured that passion ruled Mulder much of the time - passion for his work, for his self- imposed quest. Intensity abounded within my partner when it was something he believed in. Why would sex be any different? But he was hesitating - for me, he was hesitating. And that made all the difference; allowed me to set fire to my neat little toppled-over stack of straws. I leaned my cheek into Mulder's palm and managed to squeeze a few words out past the huge lump in my throat. "Mulder, I've been collecting straws for six years. Guarding my heart for at least that long... so used to the joke and the tease that I could never see past it to imagine any other possibilities. With us it was always words and banter - only when we were in pain and hurting would the actions overwhelm the words. Guess I never thought there'd ever be anything else between us. Now that I know there can be so much more... I don't mind being rushed, a little." I could feel the heat radiating from my face as I spoke, and buried my cheek even deeper into Mulder's hand. He chuckled in delight at my confession and curled me tightly into his arms again. Pressing his forehead into mine, he murmured in reply. "Thank you, Scully. For the trust... it means a lot, to me. And now, I need to ask you - do I have your permission to rush you?" Polite the words... hot and melting the look from those hazel eyes. They made me shiver. I nodded and swallowed, hard. "Feel free to rush away, Mulder." I barely got the words out when Mulder grinned widely and proceeded to sweep me right out of my burned-out pile of straws. With arms around each other we waltzed carefully in the general direction of my bedroom, eyes still locked together and not bothering to look where our feet were going. I hadn't stubbed my toe yet and Mulder was still upright, so... I figured we'd be fine. The blinds were drawn at the windows and as we passed them the slitted sun flickered across his face and settled in his beautiful eyes. Never in a million years had I dared to imagine those eyes would look at me this way. So much longing; so much love. I'd been so busy erecting straws based on his words that I'd never really noticed the way his eyes talked to me. I would never make that mistake again; would never be that obtuse, again. My legs bumped into the bed and I sat down abruptly on the edge, my legs naturally falling open as Mulder moved to stand between them. I tipped my head up and watched him concentrating on the serious business of unbuttoning my blouse. Easing the little pearl rounds from their holes; parting the material and observing the way the silk slipped off my shoulders... I saw how intently he absorbed something as simple as clothing removal. I wore one of my nicer bras underneath and I was suddenly very glad I'd thought to put it on that morning instead of the more comfortable, more broken-down number I'd almost grabbed. This one was made of delicate ivory trimmed in champagne lace; wispy and revealing and just so feminine. Mulder's index finger - the one that had traced my leg earlier in the day and had actually started this entire ball rolling - reached out and followed along the edge of lace, over each cup and down over the satin-covered underwire. Just that one wandering finger increased the tenor of my breathing and made me shiver. His low rumble only added to it. "So pretty - so utterly female, Scully. I'm not surprised at all. It's how I'd always imagined you, underneath your so-formal clothes..." His head lowered just a little and the last soft syllable pressed against the swell of my left breast, over the rim of lace. I sucked in a shaky gulp of oxygen and found myself actually trying to pull a Mulder, at a time like this... "You seem to favor the left, Mulder. My left leg for your finger to torture, and now my left breast -" That was as much as I could get out before Mulder raised his head and caught my lower lip with his teeth, biting me softly. My mouth clung to his for endless seconds, gladly accepting such punishment. He licked the bite he'd left on my lip before breaking off the kiss and burying his face between my breasts, mumbling with mock-indignity. "I like the left, Scully. I even dress to the left. If you want, I can prove it..." And he reached for one of my hands and drew it down to the heat and steel I had found hours earlier when my tower had crumbled around my feet, right outside our boss' office. I cupped him gently, letting my palm warm, and in turn be warmed by, his excitement - his desire for me. It was hard to believe I had this effect on him - it had been so long since I'd felt desirable enough to have this sort of effect on anyone. It gave me a sense of power, and I think I liked it... I kept my palm right there and twined my other hand through Mulder's hair, pulling his face to mine; kissing him with newfound aggression. Amazing what a little shot of confidence can do... that, and the man of your dreams moaning into your mouth as he swallows your tongue whole. I leaned backward, dragging him with me as we fell to the mattress in a tangle of bared skin and heat and wet, delicious kisses. ******************** The stuff nirvana could be made of... sprawled over a half-unclothed Dana Scully while she rubbed me into oblivion and managed to caress my tonsils with her tongue. After six years of imagining it, dreaming about it - the reality was so far above what I'd lain awake contemplating, in countless hotel rooms over countless cases within the bracket of too many months to track. I couldn't catch my breath but I didn't need it to function; felt my heart pounding out of control but didn't care if it thumped its way right out of my chest. Somehow she had gotten my shirt buttons undone although I couldn't recall it happening. My bare chest bore down on perfect, lace-coated breasts and it felt incredible but it wasn't enough... I was greedy. I'd been starved of Scully for much too long, never even thinking to assume I'd ever have her in any capacity other than a friend. Actually, greedy didn't really begin to cover what I was feeling. I slipped a hand between our bodies and flicked at the front closure of her bra, watching in fascination as the two halves fell apart and her lovely breasts were revealed to me. I passed a trembling hand over each sweet tip and heard a growling purr emanate from deep within her throat. The sound enchanted me and I decided I had to hear it again, maybe a bit louder this time... I replaced my hand with my tongue and was rewarded with not only more Scully purr, but an arch off the mattress as well. Mmmm... she tasted like heaven. I let my mouth roam everywhere I could reach, over soft-as-silk skin and delicate ribs and the tiny swell of her stomach; until her skirt got in the way and I had to pause long enough to remove the offending garment and the filmy hose with the run in the left leg. Off they came in one quick divesting, leaving a scrap of bikini panties trimmed in the same pretty lace as her bra. A flimsy triangle of satin that hid very little... I curved my hand underneath her hip and discovered to my delight that Dana Scully was wearing a thong. Oh my... Of course, I just had to remove it with my teeth... and got another fierce purring growl and two small hands wound into my hair, holding my mouth over the moist sweet place that until a few seconds ago had been covered by a scrap of triangle-shaped satin. And if I thought her skin tasted like heaven, I found out her feminine heart was twice as delicious. Sweet; soft and creamy and mysteriously rich, Jesus I wanted to drown in her, would willingly submerge my life within hers... I could hear myself groaning raw in my throat but I couldn't stop kissing her, so deeply that I could feel her pulse against my tongue. Under my hands her body was on fire; I felt the heat of her burning me. The fingers she twisted into my hair should have hurt my scalp but I never noticed. My entire awareness consisted of the way Scully tasted, the way she sounded as my tongue pushed her higher and higher. The way I clamped down on my own raging needs, because her response to me was so amazing and something I had never imagined for myself. I wanted it to last forever, for her. When she gasped and shuddered under my mouth, fingers flexing in my hair and body arching a good four inches off the mattress... I felt as though I had achieved a goodly portion of what I wanted her to feel - but not all. There was so much more I wanted to give her. I moved my mouth slowly up her body, over that same tight little swell of her stomach and delicate ribs; trailed my tongue over each nipple and then licked at the dampness between her breasts. Still struggling to catch her breath, still sighing deep in her throat... Scully in post- coital state was too, too gorgeous to imagine. I raised my head and gazed down into her half-open eyes; they were as damp as her body. And just as I thought to myself in amazement that I'd made her cry as she'd climaxed, Scully's hoarse whisper feathered over my ears. "You made me cry, Mulder... nobody's ever made me cry, at a time like this. Nobody's ever - I wouldn't, couldn't let them -" Her shaky voice faded out but those wet blue eyes told me everything I needed to know. Although my body was screaming out for her, to be inside of her, any part of her... I pressed her down into the soft bed and rested full-length upon her, content to touch from head to toe and allow her trembling to ease. So good - underneath me she felt so good. I dropped my face into her neck and loved the way she rubbed soothing fingers through my hair, against my scalp. Her legs curled around me and when she shifted her body just a small bit, re- aligning both of us... that little move was enough to put me into the best position against her, and slip right in. Gently... slowly. Carefully; I couldn't bear to rush this. Scully sucked in a quick breath as I eased myself within, letting it out after I had filled her completely. I forced myself to hold still and cupped her head in my hands, holding her steady for my kiss and the question I had to ask her. "Scully - is it okay - are you -" She nodded and moved her hands up and down my back, wriggling a little beneath me, adjusting herself again, both of us gasping when I slipped even deeper. I swear I could have come, just from the clench of her all around me - not requiring any sort of movement at all; it felt that perfect. I speared my fingers into Scully's soft hair and held her face up for a deep kiss, as I moved within her. And it may have felt wonderful just to suspend myself within her silky warmth... but the double heaven of kissing the woman I loved as we thrust against each other was unlike anything I'd ever felt - Because now it was for love. Now, it meant the world, and beyond - to me, and to Scully. In the silence of her bedroom the love we made between us was pure and honest and so, so good... more honesty than I'd seen in my life, more than I'd ever thought I would want. I had to marvel at the many ways I'd lied to myself in the past, pretending I was happy - pretending I was alive. What a joke - For this was life, vivid and necessary and vital... what I'd had before was just a pale plane of existence. Our eyes remained locked on each other and I found myself fascinated by the way Scully's darkened and glowed with each deep thrust I gave her. The way she clung to me, all of her clasping me tightly as I slipped my hands beneath her hips and tilted them against me. The way our panting breaths mingled in the scarce space between our lips as our movements intensified, grew harder and quicker. And I could feel her tighten around me, her breaths becoming gasping sobs - and I knew she was so close again, right there... I didn't want it to end. Not yet - though my body was screaming for release I couldn't bear for it to be over, yet. I slowed and gentled my thrusts, my hands moving from her hips to cup her breasts as I tenderly kissed her hard little nipples. Slower, softer, gently, gently... she sighed, then moaned small sounds that became raw, disjointed words, uttered above my head. "Ohhh... God, Mulder... I love you so..." ***************** I could feel tears re-building themselves behind my closed lids as those words moaned out of my mouth. There wasn't a way in hell I could have kept them to myself, not at this moment. I was overwhelmed by everything happening to me; by what had occurred just minutes ago when Mulder had brought me to a shattering climax with that mouth of his; the one that needed to be deemed as illegal as his hands. I lay pressed into damp bedsheets with my torso arched and my sensitive nipples assailed by that amazing mouth and I had never felt anything even remotely like it in my life. Within my quivering body a life force was pounding, yet the beat was so achingly tender and each movement was an affirmation and a promise that for both of us, the life force was just beginning. Nerve endings I didn't even know I had were sizzling and tingling, and under my hands a palette made of skin, bone and silky hair shaped itself into a elegantly strong back that bowed over me as the thrusts he gave melted and sustained and empowered me all at once. I had never felt so invincible... I had never felt so cherished and adored. Every tiny piece of that tower I had built over the years - every time I stacked a straw on that ever-growing pile of teasing remarks and innuendo-laden comebacks, tactile touches and in-my-personal- space advances... all of it had led up to this moment. And the build- up just made the surrender all the more precious and rare; even so I refused to allow myself one second of remorse for those wasted years. I knew we wouldn't have been able to handle anything so emotionally- shattering as this force between us; we weren't ready three years ago, or even twelve short months prior to this day. This moment, right now - we were prepared for it. Finally our timing seemed right, for never had I felt anything so beautiful as the way Mulder felt inside me, surrounding me, saturating me. In those final seconds no more words were spoken; I had no breath left with which to speak. I found myself emitting a steady moan as Mulder's hands gripped me hard and lifted me even higher against him; so close, again - right there... And when he tightened up in my arms and shouted a hoarse rasp of release into the kiss we shared, I hung on with both arms and two rubbery legs and rode it out with him, shuddering as his climax fueled mine. The kiss ended when both of us needed to replenish much- needed oxygen, but through half-closed eyes I watched him, watched the expression on his face and the glow of pleasure there, which I knew had to mirror mine. The look of him, right then... God, so gorgeous. I had never seen anyone so gorgeous - When I felt two fat tears brim over my eyelids and run down the sides of my face I wouldn't let go, long enough to wipe them away. Mulder seemed to understand my unwillingness to pull away because he leaned down and smoothed the tears away with his tongue - then curled it around the tip of my nose. I huffed a watery giggle into his chin and he smiled against my forehead as he pressed a gentle kiss there, accompanied by a remark that was pure Mulder. "Gee, Scully - was it that bad? Turning on the water-works twice, now... you're gonna give me a complex." I fisted a weak hand and popped him one on his shoulder, for that smart-ass crack. I squeezed him around the waist with my legs and heard him sigh as he melted down onto me, all hot damp skin and still- trembling muscles. It felt so good, the weight of him upon me that way - I wanted to remain in that position forever, could care less if we never moved. And I mumbled into his neck as his head came to rest on the pillow next to mine. "You know, Mulder - causing a woman to cry upon climax could be construed as a good thing... I'd tell you more but then you'd get a swelled head and there wouldn't be room for both of us on the pillow." I moved my face just enough to see his lips curve into the happiest and most relaxed grin I think I had ever seen. It made me feel wonderful to know that I'd had a hand in that much quiet joy. I reached out and threaded my fingers through his rumpled hair as his body slipped from mine a little and his arms curled me close. I shivered as he whispered into my ear. "I feel good, Scully. Very, very good. Even my swelled head feels good. Every bone in my body is crying out for sleep and I don't wanna. I'm wondering if I go to sleep, I'll discover none of this is real; that maybe I must be dreaming - again..." Through layers of encroaching exhaustion I mustered enough strength to slide a hand over his bare cheek and pinch hard. Over his indignant squawk of "OWWW, Scully, dammit!" - I huffed out a yawning chuckle. "It's real, Mulder. Trust me. You can go to sleep and when you wake up we'll be in exactly the same position as we are now, mostly because I'm too wiped out to do anything more strenuous than snore into the pillow supporting your swelled head." Mulder snickered sleepily and managed to pull the comforter over us before we both began syncopated snoring. I snuggled down into his arms and let myself drift, but before I could submerge myself completely a soft whisper from my partner - now my lover - woke me up in a hurry. "I love you too, Scully - and as soon as I regain consciousness, many hours from now, I'll show you how much..." I smiled and closed my eyes again, feeling very good myself. "Okay... it's a date." Drifting again, snug in the arms of the man I adored... almost asleep... "Scully... I'm glad you let me knock over your straws..." I sighed and burrowed deeper into his embrace. "I'm glad, too." end