Title: Unknown I (1/2)
Author: Maddie Hayes
hayes_maddie@hotmail.com
Category: MSR (kinda), RST
Rating: NC-17 big time (sex, sex, more sex)

Part 1 of 2
Spoilers: "Fight the Future"

Summary: Scully ventures into some unknown territory.

Archive: Please archive at Gossamer and Xemplary with my thanks, as
long as my name remains attached and the story unchanged.

Disclaimer: Scully and Mulder belong to Chris Carter and 1013
productions; if they belonged to me, I probably wouldn't need to write
this. No intention for profit here- that would be way too productive,
even for me.

A special thanks to Suzanne Bickerstaffe, who patiently argued with
me about the truths of human physiology and offered some very solid
advice along the way. Also thanks to Rachel Anton for taking the time
to read my first efforts at fanfiction and to remove me from the world
of thought brackets.

Feedback: Please. I'm new at this- so tell me what you think. Love
it? Hate it? Write and tell me why. <hayes_maddie@hotmail.com>
***

12:59 am
The phone was ringing. Scully was waking from a very deep sleep.
She was sure she was still trapped in a dream sequence, not sure
exactly what that sequence was, but knowing it was making her feel...
well, feel intense. As the phone's obnoxious rings were seemingly
getting louder, she opened one eye and noticed how she had her second
pillow clasped firmly between her thighs. The phone rang again and she
grimaced, opening both eyes and rubbing them sleepily with her fists.

Dammit, she thought. It was Friday night, her clock read 1:01, and
she wanted to continue going wherever she was going. Whatever she
was doing, because she felt very, very aroused.

Ring.

Fuck! Her FBI side then kicked in, as it always did, and she groped
for the cordless on her bedstand, almost knocking it across the room
but managing to fumble it into her bed and press "talk."

"Hello." She realized the word came out more as a low moan, but she
did not care.

There was a long pause. Almost too long and she considered hanging up.

"Scully?" Her name, Mulder saying her name, and she could have sworn
his voiced cracked. "Scully, it's me."

"Mulder?" Her voice still lower than usual. "Do you know what time
it is?" The ritual question.

"Yes."

She quickly became more alert, abandoning her pillow, worried that
something must be very wrong for him to be calling her this late. On
a Friday. "Mulder, what is it? What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry to be calling you this late. Something has just come up,
something really important. I need your help." She could hear Mulder
nervously drumming his fingers in the background. His voice sounded
different, more urgent than usual. "I need you to meet me somewhere.
Now."

Scully was definitely awake now. "Is someone in trouble? Did you get
a tip?" She was now sitting up and stretching out her legs.

"I guess you could say that. Listen, Scully, I don't have time to
give you the details. I don't think it's a dangerous situation, but I
really need you there." He emphasized the word really. "Here's the
address."

Scully repeated the information he just gave her. "431 King Drive?"

"Yes."

"Mulder...wha.." She was startled to hear that he had hung up the
phone. What the hell? She wasn't sure if she should be totally
freaked out, frantic that he was in danger somehow, but then she
remembered that he had assured her, somewhat, that this was not a
dangerous situation.

She jumped off her bed, got her gun, pulled on a pair of FBI sweats,
a t-shirt and tennis shoes, deciding to move quickly anyway. She
couldn't help but smirk at how many times her sleep had been disturbed
by that voice, and how many times she had to leave the comfort of her
pj's to go on some strange night hunt with him.

Here we go, she thought as she rushed out her door, locked her
apartment and felt the warm night air as she ran to get into her car.

* * *

On her way over to this mysterious address, Scully found herself
thinking a lot about the past weeks. Actually, the past months. Her
relationship with Mulder had always been strange. But lately it had
been, well, awkward. Both agents had been acting a bit edgy, tense,
and she thought she knew why.

What was it? Of course the practical reason should be their wacked-out
caseload. Her mind raced through many of the intense cases they had
been working on lately, fully realizing that wasn't it at all....

She knew when it started.

Ever since they had gotten back from the Arctic. Even before that.
Well, actually, it was that moment in the hallway - it had really
surprised her. Shocked her. She wasn't sure if her shock came from
Mulder's declaration as to how much he needed her, the look in his
eyes, or the fact that he almost kissed her. Really kissed her.

Scully told herself it was the look. That is what she thought about,
at the time, anyway. His eyes looking darker than she could ever
remember, singly focused on her. His eyes wanted her. She had never
forgotten that look. It always made her catch her breath, each glimpse
of it made her feel a bit woozy, as she had back in that hallway.

Of course, in the hallway, she had responded - before she could even
think about it, she responded... and then the pain, and waking up,
naked, quivering in Mulder's arms in a very dark place. Not where she
expected to wake up. That was for sure.

She felt a certain creepiness come over her, inevitably from the
memory of that room, the hazy memory of him carrying her through
that eerie space, and up, up towards the whiteness of vast amounts of
snow, and safety. It was so surreal, thinking back to that moment,
lying in a field of white. Not sure if she was dead, but feeling
Mulder beside her as a reminder that she wasn't.

Scully knew that the experience had irreversibly changed them. She
thought that eventually they would have to talk about it. But, in
typical Mulder and Scully fashion, they had immersed themselves in
their work. It appeared, on the surface, that everything was back to
normal.

But it wasn't. Not even close.

"Shit." She slammed her hand on the steering wheel as she realized
she just missed her turn.

* * *

When her car pulled up to 431 King Drive, she was somewhat surprised.
It was a big Victorian house, set on a hill. Serene. What could this
be about? she thought as she got out of the car. Her hand reached
around her back to make sure she had her gun. She did.

She also noticed that Mulder's car was across the street. Where was
he? She certainly expected that he would be here, outside, waiting
for her.

"This is so strange." She said it out loud, as the bright full moon
guided her steps across the lawn. Scully climbed the stairs to the
porch.

"Mulder?" She said his name loudly, almost angrily. "Mulder, where
are you?" She walked around the porch, looking. Seeing nothing but
shadows, she crept around the back of the house, still looking for
him.

No sign of him out here.

Beginning to get a little worried, she decided to go in the house.
Arriving at the large dark wood front door, she jiggled the handle.
It was open.

Where is he? She stepped inside this house, noticing a faint musty
smell as she went inside. The same kind of smell that a summer home
has when you return after winter. It was a beautiful old house,
sparsely furnished, with very masculine oriental rugs covering most
of the floors. Large wooden antiques lined the hallways, not quite
lived in but not abandoned either.

"Mulder?" She said his name again, her voice echoing down the vast
hallway. No response. The light from the moon flooded in through the
tall windows, and she was glad because she did not bring in a
flashlight.

Remembering his words that this was not a dangerous situation, she
tried to keep her worrying down to a minimum, and began to explore
the house. She guessed it was a five bedroom, 1800s era house. She
walked into the living room, kitchen, parlor, (was it a parlor?) and
saw no sign of him.

Dammit Mulder, where are you? She saw a beautiful staircase, and
decided that there was nothing downstairs and to continue the search
upstairs.

She again thought how strange the situation was. His car was out
there, but there was no sign of him anywhere. At the top of the
stairs past the landing she saw a hallway with many doors. She
walked towards the one door that was slightly ajar, and stopped
at the door frame.

"Mulder?" Again, nothing. Her eyes swept over the room, noting that
there was less light in there. She stepped inside.

Abruptly, she felt hands roughly grip her shoulders and quickly pull
her backwards. How could I be so stupid? she thought frantically,
realizing that there were arms around her, restraining her wrists,
preventing her from reaching her gun.

Her throat tightened, as she felt the same fear she always did when
someone constrained her. The arms encircled her middle, tightly,
making it nearly impossible to move.

"What the hell..." a hand gripped her mouth, cutting off her sentence.
She squirmed, her back up against this man, hearing his quick
breathing.

She stood there, trapped for endless minutes, no sound in the room
but her muffled breathing and his.

Then she felt it. The arm that was so tightly around her lower
middle, was beginning to rub over her stomach. Gently. It was not the
hand of someone that intended to harm her.

Without a conscious thought, she began to feel a warmth within her.
The hand still was covering her mouth, and she felt his breathing on
her neck.

I should feel fear, she reminded herself. This was not a safe
situation. Why was this person holding her like this? Touching her?
Even more importantly, where was her reaction coming from? She
pressed backwards firmly, not sure if she was trying to harm or
arouse. A pressure in her lower back indicated the latter.

Scully could smell him; she knew it had to be him. The way he was
touching her, the way she was responding. She knew these hands;
the touch was familiar. Wasn't it?

Slowly the lower hand crept up her chest, and massaged her breasts.
Firmly, maybe even a little clumsily. Scully squirmed again, somewhat
disturbed that she was actually enjoying it. Is this a stranger's
touch? Or was it a stranger? No, it couldn't be. It had to be him.
Her mind was not processing anything else at this moment.

The lower hand was still exploring, more urgently, smoothing over
her stomach, running over her curvy hips, reaching around and touching
her ass, the area between her legs, firmly, never stopping and feeling
long enough for the touch to satisfy this heat, but certainly long
enough for her want it.

Scully realized the hand covering her mouth was becoming more and
more distracted, and she absentmindedly licked the palm, slowly
drawing circles with her tongue, tasting the sweat on his skin. She
heard his low groan, his voice, a moment passed, and then his lips
began to suck her neck, hard. It was then her turn to moan, and she
realized that both hands were now groping her body, as his tongue
was licking the side of her neck, the back of her neck. The air
moving around them found these wet places and sent a shiver down her
spine.

She was not so surprised to find that even with this new freedom, she
made no motion to scream, or break away from this embrace.

Her head was spinning, she felt like was back in her bed, with the
pillow between her legs, back in that dream, but now, these hands,
they were driving her crazy. His hands.

She looked down and saw the outline of them in the poorly lit room,
encircling her breasts, rolling her nipples through her t-shirt
between the long fingers. A pinch with one hand, as the other hand
firmly ran down the front of her, pressed to her pelvic bone, making
those maddening circles, the tongue was now in her ear, probing, the
lower hand broke from its incessant circling, moved down between her
legs, taking two fingers and pressing through her clothes knowingly,
finding the wet heat between her legs, pulling her sweats tightly into
that space.

It was unbearable for her. Just as her hand made its way to encourage
this exploration, something in her snapped. Finally, she became
flooded with uncertainty. Doubt. Instead of allowing herself to guide
these now actively stroking fingers where she really wanted him, her
hand quickly went behind her back and grabbed her gun from its
holster.

Jumping about a foot and spinning around, she screamed "What the
FUCK is going on here!"

She stood there, pointing a gun at this shadowed figure, and imagined
the scene. Here she was, and she was breathless. Her hair most
likely standing on end, her neck and god knows what else totally wet
from this assault. The only thing that made sense: her hands firmly
holding this gun, pointing at this unknown or known captor.

She saw the figure raise his long arms...her eyes strained to find a
feature, his mouth, his eyes, anything. She couldn't find anything
familiar. Instead, she just saw a slow movement of his trembling
hands up in the air, in the surrender, I give up position.

"Now I want you to keep your hands up, and walk slowly, in front of
me, slowly to the window." With her gun pointed to the back of his
head, the figure began to move, slowly as directed, to the window.
She noticed he was clad in a black leather jacket, he was wearing a
black stocking cap, blue jeans, black shoes.

Scully didn't recognize the jacket. She came to a quick realization
that maybe this wasn't him, and the subsequent horrifying realization
that she melted for a stranger. A rapist.

Shit. What if she was wrong? Anger welled up insider her, she felt
more tense than she ever felt in her entire life, and what was worse,
she was beginning to feel embarrassed by her blatant stupidity.

What is WRONG with me? The question kept running through her mind.
She quickly moved closer to this stranger, her hands still shaking,
but putting a little more pressure on the trigger of the gun.

"Now listen to me, closely." She was nearly screaming now. "I want
you to turn around, slowly, when I count to three."

Amazingly, the figure shook his head. Shook his head no.

"NO?!" She yelled. She moved forward to press the gun into his back,
nudging him. "Are you going to change your answer, you bastard? Move
or I'll shoot, I swear to god!"

There was a long pause, and the figure began to turn, slowly but
surely, pulling his hat off as he did. Before she knew it, he was
facing her, the light barely falling on his features. The first thing
she looked at were his eyes, and she noted that they were closed.

Then his mouth, pressed into a firm line. His shoulders were slumped.
His breathing low, controlled.

It was him.

She couldn't fucking believe it. Yes, she could. The heat from her
core was now making its way up her back. She was shaking
uncontrollably, all over.

"MULDER!" she screamed, tossing her gun to the floor, afraid she
would use it if she kept it in her hands.

He opened his eyes, reluctantly, to see her fist traveling at great
speed to his face.

The blow almost made him lose balance and she saw him grip the
windowsill to keep from falling.

"YOU SON OF A BITCH! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU
ARE DOING?"

How could he do this to her? She saw blood running from his nose;
instead of feeling pity, she attacked him again, pounding her fists
against his chest, pummeling him, punching anything she could find.
Her fury finally made him lose balance, and both of them went tumbling
to the floor, barely missing her gun.

She was now officially out of control. She didn't know where this was
coming from. Her unanswered passion channeling into fury? Her fear
turned into anger? Who the hell knows, she thought, but right at this
moment, she couldn't stop this anger. She was slapping him, wanting
him to know how pissed she was. She saw him wince as her fist came
very close to punching him in the nuts. That was it, and with amazing
response time, he flipped her over, pinning her under his trembling
knees and holding her arms to the floor.

She glared at his face, looming above her, blood still running out of
his nose. Again, time stood still as she stared, looking at his brow,
furrowed, his eyes, wildly looking at her, his mouth, agape, breathing
labored breaths, maybe because she broke one of his ribs with her
blows, maybe because he couldn't believe her reaction.

"SCULLY." His voice for the first time since the phone call. Harsh.
But amazingly, not angry. Again, those eyes, looking at her. Studying
her.

"SCULLY." Pleading. He said her name again, his expression still
troubled, his breathing still labored, his eyes now closed, waiting.

Waiting for what? She paused, her breathing calming somewhat. She
watched his face, intently. It almost looked as if he were sleeping.
She remembered all the times she had watched him sleep, for some
reason or another. He looked like a little boy right then, innocent.
She was reminded that he was not innocent when she realized that his
restraining her was beginning to hurt. Scully tried to move, but
couldn't.

"Scully." A sigh. He said it again, and his eyes opened. And there it
was. That look from the hallway. There was no mistaking it. She felt
her anger amazingly subside. He was looking through her, his eyes
piercing and dark. His gaze locked her in, and she begin to feel that
wooziness she remembered almost too well. Stirring. She couldn't
move, but she had to. She stared at him for what seemed like an
eternity, the silence of the room, except their labored breathing, the
night sounds.

She had to move. She couldn't. Autonomically, her head raised and
her mouth clamped on his. First she thought she was trying to bite
him. She knew he did too, because his mouth wasn't responding. His
resistance was not the reaction she wanted. Or what she needed.

The fury had now transformed back into passion and she began to lick
his lips. Outlining the shape of his mouth with her tongue. She
tasted something metallic on his upper lip, and began to suck it,
suck the blood off his lip. She didn't even notice when his knees
slipped off her and she was nestled between his legs, and that the
only remaining restraint was his grip on her wrists, above her head.

She licked the blood off his face, licked his eyes, and then noticed
his mouth was slightly open, sucking in a deep breath.

She took that opportunity to return her mouth to his, and to slide
her tongue into his warm wet mouth, licking his teeth, the roof of
his mouth, drinking his saliva. His tongue, at first, wasn't
responding.

She then took it in her mouth, sucked it, and it suddenly became
alive and with force that would have been too much in any other
situation, rammed into her mouth so deeply she thought she might
suffocate.

Then they were ravenously kissing, their faces pressed together,
rubbing, licking, her jaw was as open as far as she could open it,
eating him alive.

She could feel her skin getting redder by the friction of his slight
stubble, and she loved the pain, she wanted it, she wanted him
to kiss her harder.

Then the kiss ended abruptly, as if no two people could take any more
of this, and Mulder drew his face back to look down at her.

He groaned, painfully. She saw that his eyes were wild, and she knew.

"Let me up, Mulder," she barked, and he released her wrists, never
removing his eyes from hers and moved to a sitting position, breathing
heavily. She then sat up, her face centimeters from his.

The first thing she removed was his jacket.

She then pushed on his chest, hard, and he fell to his back. Within
seconds she was the one straddling him, moving her hips, only so
slightly.

He groaned again... his eyes fluttering. She could feel his enormous
erection, pressing into his tight jeans, against her. She knew he was
hurting, and not just from some bruised ribs.

Good.

She lifted her hips, ever so slightly to remove the pressure from his
cock, and he knew better than to move. Scully took her finger and
touched his face. Ran it along the side of his jaw, his lips. She put
one finger in his mouth and he sucked it, his tongue moving underneath
it. With the other hand, she pushed back his hair leaving her hand
pressed against his forehead.

He then took two fingers in his mouth, sucking harder and harder, and
she noticed his hips were moving, slowly. She felt a twitch between
her legs, the warmth spreading. She removed her fingers, wiped the
wetness on his face, and without breaking their heated gaze, moved
her hands down to his chest.

For a moment, she stared at him hungrily, and he stared back at her
helplessly. Quickly she ripped the shirt from him as she would a
trauma victim, exposing his taut chest. His skin glowed slightly in
the moonlight, and she watched his chest rise and fall. Rise and fall.

Then, her mouth was all over him, tasting his flesh, licking his
nipples, sucking them, biting them, her hands were running over his
chest, his arms, pushing, kneading; she knew she had to feel his skin
touch hers, so she pulled her shirt over her head impatiently,
throwing it across the room. Not even giving Mulder a chance to see
her breasts, she fell on top of him, pressing herself into him, loving
the feel of his skin against hers.

Her mouth was loosely kissing his neck, tonguing it, and she could
hear him panting and groaning. His hands tentatively placed on the
small of her back, afraid to press her too hard, but needing her to
stay there, right there. She was rubbing her now wet sweatpants
over his belly, grinding into him, feeling his erection touching her
ass. She leaned over him, dangling a breast in front of his mouth,
and he took it, gently at first, lightly licking her, but when she
began to squirm frantically, he got the signal and sucked it hard,
bit her, sucked her til she almost believed she felt the milk coming
out of her.

For the first time, she let out a low moan. She knew she was close.
She needed release. And he was going to give it to her. Now.

Quickly she stood up, and yanked her mangled sweats and cotton panties
away from her moist center. The night air rushed in and aroused her
even more. She stood naked over Mulder, looking down at his half-
dressed, glistening body, seeing the wetness of her saliva all over
him, she could feel the wetness growing in her.

She considered what to do next, and it wasn't even a decision as she
placed her knees astride his stunning face. She paused, making sure
he had a good view of her folds, and she saw him staring at her, his
eyes burning up into her. His hands stroking his belly nervously. He
looked hopeful as he licked his lips.

That's all it took, and she took her hands and opened herself to
him, hovering inches above his lips, waiting for....

His tongue... lightly circling her clit. It felt so fucking good... he
was timing it perfectly, slowly, deliberately. He raised his head
so he could explore further, drinking her wetness, sucking her hard
and nibbling her folds; his hands came up and grabbed her ass,
pulling her to him.

His tongue getting sharper, licking faster, she was moving her hips
more now, his hands still holding her in place. He then plunged his
tongue inside her, at the same time pulling her to his face so she was
almost sitting on him, his tongue plunging deeper, swirling around,
tasting her. Her wetness was dripping all over him, and he was
moving his face up into her, moving and moving, kneading her ass
until she felt a wave of something she had never felt before.

It was almost too much, she threw back her head and couldn't get
enough air, she was gasping, shaking moaning, he was drinking her, no,
eating her.

And she screamed "OH, MY GOD" as her body convulsed. Scully
lifted up just a little to ride it out, and felt his hands pull her
back to him; she was about to scream "NO!" when she began to feel
it again. As he sucked her clit, hard, the room started spinning and
the waves came again and she crashed backwards until she collapsed,
her body laying on top of him, her feet planted on either side of his
face.

She lay there, staring at the ceiling, trying to get the room to stop
spinning. His tongue, his fucking tongue... she couldn't believe it.
Never had someone worked her like that before. Without fingers,
really, without hands... just his tongue. It was simply amazing.

She sighed again, almost forgetting there was a man beneath her.
Breathing hard, slightly moaning.

Actually, she COULD feel him beneath her.

She knew she wasn't finished. Not even close.

Scully flipped over on her belly, still on top of him. Scooting
herself up to a sitting position, grinding her wetness into his
abdomen, she ran her finger along the length of his erection
straining against his jeans.

"Jeeessus." She heard him moan. She then slowly but surely popped
each button on his fly until she could see his pinstriped boxers. She
reached in and cradled his length in her hands, running her fingers
lightly up and down its enormous size.

Scully then tugged and pulled until Mulder's boxers and jeans were
around his knees, and she was looking at his erection, pulsating,
waiting to be touched. She saw there was some precum on the tip so
she rolled her finger over it, rubbing it in, and around him.

Scully then took her hand and without moving her upper body, turned
to face him, seeing his beautiful face contorted, his eyes barely
open, his mouth slack, openly panting, He gasped as he saw her lick
her fingers, tasting him, her eyes fixed hungrily on his.

Then she turned and began caressing her wet fingers up and down
the length of him, lightly, caressing him, noticing him grow even
larger, seeing just how much he wanted her to do more. She leaned
down and flicked her tongue at his tip, took her hand and again
smoothed the wetness back into his skin, thinking how beautiful his
dick was, and how she had never known it until tonight.

Then, possessively, she wanted it in her mouth and she sucked the
tip of it, slowly, her tongue circling him, exploring him, tasting him.
Tasting Mulder. He began to stir, his hips beginning to move, and
she moved her mouth down the length of him, his cock fully in her
mouth, in her throat, almost to the point of gagging, and she pulled
up again. Up, down, she was deliberately driving him wild.

His hands flew to the sides of her head, pressing against her, not
wanting to press her down on him. She increased the speed, and
pressure, and sucked until he began to thrust into her mouth.

She felt his cock twitch,

Heard his scream

and knew he was coming before he spilled into her, his semen
splashing against her throat, so much of it, spilling out of her mouth
and onto him.

Scully sat up, completely turned around, and looked at him, his cum
all over her face. Mulder sat up, pulled her face to his and licked
her cheeks, running his hands along her back, pressing her into his
arms, needing, just for this moment, something soft and more intimate.
He held her, as she tried to breathe normally again, as he began to
absorb everything that was happening, and before she could think,
she was kissing him again, with his taste still in her mouth, their
tongues gently exploring each other, their breathing together. He
held the back of her neck gently, as the kiss lasted and lasted.

She was nestled in his lap, her legs wrapped around him, and when
she tightened her leghold on his waist, she felt him stir against her
ass.

Scully then felt him lift her up and she took him in her hands and
guided him into her. Sucking in her breath, she slid down the length
of him; he was inside her completely.

For a moment, Scully sat there, not wanting to move, not wanting to
lose the uncomfortable tightness, the way he was filling her... but
Mulder picked her up again, began to move her up and down the length
of him. This time they were both groaning, the urgency was seeping
back into them, and he began increasing the speed, angling his cock so
she could feel it the way she needed to, she contracted her muscles so
tight, grabbing him within her, he thought he would slip out just as
she cried his name and her walls constricted around him... pulsating,
on fire.

She kept saying it, "Muuulder" over and over and before he knew it,
without withdrawing, he slammed her into the floor in front of him,
pulled her legs over his shoulders and began driving into her, wildly,
too fast, his eyes glazed, he was almost hurting her and she felt it
for the first time, his semen in her, spilling into her, and that
knowledge made her come again.

They collapsed.

Out of breath, she felt him slip out of her, and she lightly pushed
him so that he rolled over on his back. He grabbed her arm across
his chest, not willing to let her leave his touch. Scully could tell
that he was having trouble breathing. She lay there in the dark,
turned towards him, her medical ear listening to make sure that he
was okay.

Some time later, she stirred, turned and saw him asleep on the floor,
still completely naked. She stared at him for a long time,
appreciating his beauty. Then she sat up, pulled her t-shirt back on,
her sweats still smelling of their sex. She considered waking him,
and then thought better of it.

She grabbed her gun and left.


End of Unknown I