Title: Egg-stravaganza (1 of 1) By: Tess and Jacquie LaVa E-mail: tnv099@aol.com Distribution: Please let us know first Spoilers: Nope Rating: NC-17 Content: S,R,H Keywords: MSR - natch! Disclaimer: Characters named herein are the sole property of 1013 and Fox Summary: How do you go from dyeing eggs to humping like bunnies? Egg-stravaganza The kitchen was a mess. Newspapers were spread over the wooden table. Empty jars sat like an army atop the paper-covered surface. Hard-boiled eggs gleamed white in a bowl. William was sleeping in his crib; his soft snores could be heard over the baby monitor sitting amid the clutter on the countertop. Scully heard the front door open and she smiled when Mulder appeared in the kitchen, his hands weighted down with several plastic bags from the grocery store. He hefted the bags onto the table with a thud and slumped into a chair. "Never again." His voice was wearily solemn. "Never again will I go to the supermarket the day before a major holiday." He stretched out one arm and tugged open the refrigerator door to grab a can of soda. The pop tab of the can gave way with a loud hiss and he tilted his head back, draining half the can in three large gulps. Shrugging out of the lightweight jacket he wore, Mulder rolled the half-empty can across his forehead in an attempt to cool down. Scully concentrated on emptying the bags, making sure he'd gotten everything that had been on her list. Realizing her attention was not on him, Mulder made a play for her sympathy. "Those people are crazy!" he said. Scully nodded distractedly and made the requisite sympathetic noises in her throat while she put the ham and fresh vegetables into the refrigerator. She straightened and turned back toward the counter but he caught her by the wrist. "I had to fend off two old ladies and a woman with twin three-year-olds in her cart to get that ham," he told her pitifully. Scully looked down. His face was arranged into his best woebegone and exhausted pout but his eyes held a smile. "My hero." Scully's dramatic sigh accompanied the rapid batting of her eyelashes and she brushed her mouth over his in gratitude. "How can I ever thank you?" Mulder's eyes gleamed and he tugged on her wrist trying to unbalance her into his lap. "I have an idea or two," he told her suggestively. Scully countered his move by shifting her weight and digging her heels into the floor. "Later," she promised him. "I want to get the eggs dyed while William is sleeping." Mulder's lips curled - this time in a genuine pout - but he released her and propped his cheek on his hand while he watched her gather the supplies he had brought home from the supermarket. "Why don't you just use those packaged dyes?" he asked as she poured equal measures of distilled water into each of the waiting jars. Scully's tone held patient explanation. "This is the way my mother always made the dye." Mulder eyed the growing clutter on the table and nodded. The pre-packaged stuff seemed like less of a fuss but he had learned not to argue with the traditions of the Scully women. He took a large swig of soda to mask the grimace on his face as he remembered the Great-Cranberry-and-Popcorn- Garland debacle of the Christmas just passed. Gad... They hadn't thought to tie the heavy tree to the wall and it had crashed to the floor. A few ornaments had been smashed but the real tragedy had been in the fact that the water from the tree stand had soaked the homemade garland he'd helped Scully make. His suggestion that they just go out and buy some tinsel was met with horrified silence on her part. Hours later, Mulder had found himself ensconced on the sofa, a needle and thread in one hand and bowls of freshly popped corn and whole cranberries waiting to be strung. It had taken him hours to get the damn thing made - but the reward of an enthusiastically-grateful Scully in his bed that night had more than made up for sore needle-stung fingers and a back aching from hunching over the popcorn bowl... Besides, she'd licked each of his fingers all better. This time Mulder sat quietly in his chair, in an effort to be as unobtrusive as possible. Maybe if he just watched and kept his mouth shut the eggs would jump into the jars by themselves. He really wanted nothing to do with the whole egg- dyeing-process. Fat chance. Before he knew it he was mashing canned blueberries in one bowl and frozen raspberries in another. Under Scully's watchful eye, he poured the syrupy concoctions into the jars of distilled water and stirred them vigorously until the liquid turned blue and red, respectively. Should have known better... Scully had the damnedest way of sucking him right into a project. So while he mashed she mixed the other dyes, and now an array of colorful jars stood atop the table. Mulder followed her lead in carefully easing a hard-boiled egg into each jar. He mimicked her movements by rocking the jars back and forth so that the eggs rolled about gently in the dyes. They scooped the eggs out and placed them onto paper towels to dry. Okay, that wasn't so bad... Mulder checked out the pretty pastel eggs, uniform in color and tinted soft rose and periwinkle blue, pale yellow and soft lavender... and boring as all get-out. Pastels were okay, covering a baby's bottom. But for some serious egg-ing... Mulder grinned as he rolled up his sleeves. Scully watched askance as he found an empty jar and began pouring a small amount of each of the dyes into the jar. A bored Mulder is a frightening Mulder, she thought. He mumbled softly and continually adjusted the mixture by adding more of the various dyes to his jar, holding it up to the light and eyeing the color with the critical eye of a mad scientist bent on a gruesome experiment. Scully grimaced as he slid the last egg into his putrid concoction. Mulder rolled the egg about in the dye and used a spoon to occasionally lift it from the liquid. Scully fought back a laugh. The tip of his tongue appeared between his lips as he concentrated on getting the color of the egg just right. Long moments passed before he deemed the egg done to perfection. She peered into the jar at the colored lump within. Oh, God... He lifted the dripping egg from the jar with a spoon and proudly set it onto the paper towels. There it sat in all its glory, amid the pastel eggs. Scully wasn't exactly sure what color to call it. It could best be described as a mottled combination of gray and olive green with speckles of red, purple and blue. It was hideous. Mulder looked up with a proud grin. "Now THAT's an Easter egg," he declared. Scully wrinkled her nose and looked from the revolting egg to its creator. "It's YOUR egg," she told him with a disgusted sniff. Mulder poked the still-wet egg with one finger, still grinning like a fool. "Damned straight it's my egg! And I'll be expecting you to hide it with the rest of the eggs, so I can hunt it down and conquer it like the mighty egg-hunter that I am!" She just snorted. "You're a twit, Mulder..." *********** Scully rinsed the last of the jars and set them into the dishwasher. She turned back to the table to collect the bowls they'd used to mash the various ingredients into the base for the dyes. Mulder was picking through the bowl of crushed raspberries. As she watched in amusement, he dug around in the dark red liquid until he unearthed a mushy but whole raspberry, and popped the piece of fruit into his mouth. When she emitted a tiny gasp he looked up curiously. She was staring at him with her mouth half-open... His fingers were stained a berry red and his full lips were ripe with the same color. They stood out on his tanned face like a beacon of temptation. Scully felt a surge of lust so strong and so unexpected... it was like a fist in the stomach. Where in Hell had THAT come from? One minute she was thinking ahead to the wonderful Easter Mass they would attend with Will, imagining the delicious holiday dinner afterwards... and the next minute she wanted to knock everything off the kitchen table and lick the berry juice right off Mulder's skin. Jesus. She wanted him to paint a picture on her flesh with those stained fingers; wanted to suckle and feed from his ripe mouth. She wanted, NOW. And with that thought in mind Scully tossed aside the damp dishtowel in her hands, along with her inhibitions about jumping her man in the middle of the morning in the middle of her kitchen at a time when Will could awaken at any moment. ********************* Mulder's eyes widened when Scully suddenly sat down in his lap, her legs straddling his thighs. Her fingers flexed on his shoulders before she slid them up his neck to bury them in his hair, pulling his head back. He gulped and hurriedly swallowed the raspberry a second before her mouth swooped down to cover his. Her tongue swept over his lips, demanding entry and with a groan, he opened his mouth to her. Her kiss was unexpected and demanding. Her lips moved over his with a feral intensity - licking, stroking, biting. She was consumed with a hunger for him. To have him. Have him now. To taste him and touch him. To be touched by him. She broke away from the kiss and tore her T-shirt over her head and tossed it to the floor. Her full breasts were encased in peach cotton and before Mulder could even blink, she had reached behind her and made short work of the hooks and eyes of the clasp. The bra floated from her fingers to join the T-shirt in a puddle on the tile floor. She pressed herself into Mulder's face and he groaned again as the upper slope of her breasts came into searing contact with his mouth. Mulder's hands curled around her upper arms as he sought to pull her back down into their kiss, but she resisted. She flung out one hand, blindly searching for the bowl of berries, her fingers wrapping around the cool metal of a mixing bowl. She leaned back and brought the bowl between their bodies. With her free hand, she reached in and plucked a fat blueberry out of the bowl and pressed it to Mulder's lips. He opened his mouth and caught the berry between strong, white teeth. Scully watched in apparent fascination as he chewed and swallowed and she leaned over the bowl to steal a taste from his lips. Delicious - He growled her name, a sound that never failed to arouse and excite her to new heights. A part of her brain was amazed at the sudden change in the atmosphere of the room. From teasing him about his hideously-ugly egg, to wanting to devour him whole... life was never dull around their home. And thank God for that... She watched intently as Mulder's fingers dipped into the bowl and picked through the soupy concoction. He liberated a blueberry, lifted it to her mouth and pushed the morsel of fruit between her lips. Scully sucked his offering, finger included, into her mouth and she used her tongue to lick every trace of juice from his flesh. When his digit was clean, she grasped his wrist and guided his damp fingers to the curve of her breast - and found herself captivated by the sight of his syrup-stained fingers on her breast and the vision of his teeth worrying his lower lip until it was as red and ripe as the raspberries in the other bowl. Her body grew heavy with anticipated pleasure when he immersed both palms into the blue syrup, one at a time. The bowl hit the table with the dull thud, juice dripping over the rim. He lifted his hands to her breasts and she watched through heavy lashes as he traced the pattern of the veins that ran under her flesh; painting her white skin with primitive markings; coating her nipples with the sticky juice. Her eyes slammed shut when his tongue lapped at her in a rasping pass over her tight nipple. His name left her mouth in a thin, high moan. "Oh God... Mulder...!" She scrambled to her feet and twisted away from Mulder's grasping hands. Her fingers fumbled with the metal clasp of her jeans and she tore the zipper down its track with a loud ripping sound, hurriedly stripping the rest of her clothes from her body. One look at her trembling body, sticky with fruit syrup - and Mulder surged to his feet. His chair tipped over and fell to the floor with a crash. He crowded her willing body against the kitchen table. Newspaper scratched the tender skin on the backs of her thighs and she laid a staying hand on the center of his shirt. Against her hand his heart was pounding. "The eggs," she reminded him shakily. Her gaze darted frantically about her. The bedroom was too far away. The counter and table were still cluttered. She dug her fingers into his shirt and sank down onto the floor. She winced and sucked in a breath as her naked back met the cold tile. Mulder stretched out over her, warming her, and his white cotton T-shirt was ruined when he pressed his chest against her berry-stained breasts. He moved slightly away from her and Scully bit back an insane giggle when she saw the imprint of blue breasts and two darker, uneven circles of nipples perched in lopsided artistic fashion, dead center of his shirt. , she thought as she wrapped her legs around his hips and wantonly rubbed the wet heat between her legs against the erection straining against the button fly of his jeans. Her lips brushed his ear and one word escaped her in a low, husky demand. "Hurry." ********** How did one go from poking fun at a nasty-looking egg dye job, to humping like bunnies on a cold kitchen floor? Mulder was too far gone to think clearly enough for rationalization. If he hadn't learned anything else about the woman he worshipped, he'd learned of her sometimes-quicksilver mood swings. It wasn't because she had that PMS-thing happening, or got oogy during a full moon. It wasn't unbalanced hormones or pre-menstrual anything... It was simply, Scully. He'd discovered that any little thing could set her off, concerning sex. And that was all right; hell, that was GREAT, as far as he was concerned. It kept him on his toes. And he'd always thought he was the hair- trigger... Hah. On the floor, cold tile under her bare ass and hot, so hot between her legs - what a contrast. Scully's hair was one wild red tangle around her face; a berry or two - and a piece of broken eggshell - had gotten caught in the snarled strands. Mulder liked the look of it; he refused to remove them. Maybe he'd eat those berries out of her hair, later - if she left him enough strength to do so. There were four hands trying to unbutton his fly. Two of them got slapped away when they became too slow to complete the tasking in an acceptably fast time frame... and he mumbled an affronted, "Owww" into her eggshell-decorated hair and instead pressed his stained fingers onto her pretty blue breasts and toyed with her nipples. Feline growls and a renewed tug-of-war between her fingers and his fly buttons were his reward. Finally, the buttons all gave way and her hands were instantly burrowing inside the soft denim and rooting around for a penis with a smile on its head. Mulder groaned in relief when she worked it out of its tight opening and he pressed down, hard. He managed to get his jeans shucked down closer to his knees with one urgent hand, before Scully got hold of his fingers and dragged him back up to her neglected breast. She rasped into his ear, "Leave it," and Mulder knew better than to disobey. He pressed against her again, laving the head of his engorged penis against her abundant wetness front and center, and felt her push at his jeans with her feet until she got them past his shins. Much better... he could actually move. Briefly he mourned the loss of giving his woman a thorough licking, but knew she was more than ready. It happened like that, sometimes. Usually Scully wanted - hell, demanded - her fair share of his tongue, and there wasn't a thing he loved more than doing her until she screamed. But obviously the sight of him sucking berries unto his mouth was more than enough for her, today - and Mulder wouldn't dream of questioning why. He was just thankful he'd been taking lots of vitamins lately... Jesus, she felt so damn hot... so utterly good. He adjusted, and she wriggled, and he slipped inside on one hot-slick-glide of Scully. Mmmmm. He propped his elbows on the hard tile and kept his fingers busy against her nipples, knowing she loved it when he accentuated his thrusts with his fingers tugging at her. His poor elbows would be mangled tomorrow but he didn't care. Right now he was at the perfect angle to ram, tug and also watch her beautiful face, as she responded to his loving. Talk about a work of art... There was a raspberry smudge on her face; Mulder bent down and licked at it, feeling her smile against his tongue. He trailed over to her mouth and kissed her deeply, tasting fruit and Scully and the tang of her saliva. She purred. God, he loved to make her purr... Mulder kept her mouth busy and somehow managed to accomplish several levels of lovemaking with a modicum of grace. Well, at least he didn't fall off. Her legs were coiled around him, anchoring his driving body to hers - as if he'd ever just pick himself off and leave. Not damn likely... not in this lifetime. He'd abandoned her nipples for the joy of cupping her bare little cheeks in his hands and holding her arched off the floor as his thrusts intensified. The pressure was off his elbows, thankfully. And in this position he was better able to make contact with her clit, which he knew needed very little in the way of further stimulation - not when she was this close. He could feel her clenching down on him, hard and pulsing, could tell the moment she got there because her entire body stiffened beneath him and her teeth bit at his tongue and her scream of release echoed down his throat and got hung up on his ribcage. It was goddamn incredible... and he wasn't anywhere near to coming, yet. In fact, he'd just gotten started... When he felt her body relax and go limp in his hands Mulder nipped at her bottom lip one last time, and smiled down into her damp face, noting the flush of her cheeks and the over-brightness of her eyes... and he withdrew gently from her sated body and flipped them both over, until she lay upon him like a soft little blanket. Scully blinked sleepily and stared down at him, then mumbled a low, "What's up, Mulder? Besides, you, that is..." She wriggled her hips on his aching cock and Mulder stifled a groan. He rearranged her atop him until he could slip between her thighs and he rubbed himself all over her little clit. Scully sighed and squirmed. Sensitivity, no doubt. He figured she'd be able to handle it. He managed a chuckle. "Right now, I'm the only one 'up', baby... and it's all your fault. You'd better rectify the situation -" Her long-suffering and teasing, "If I must", was accompanied by a shift in her hips, until she was more or less sitting up and straddling him - and in the prefect position to take him, deep inside. Bending over him, she let her breasts dangle in his face, and he made a meal of the berry sweetness of them, while she rocked on him and curled her palms into his on either side of the floor - and let the loving of her body take him higher, and higher - Until with a muffled shout and one hard push against her, he exploded. ***************** The kitchen was a mess. Newspapers were spread over the wooden table. Bowls of sticky syrup sat atop the paper-covered surface. Pretty pastel eggs - and one gargoyle of an Easter offering - were arranged neatly in a deviled egg plate. William slept on in his crib, his innocent dreams undisturbed by the goings-on in his parents' kitchen... and said parents were fast asleep as well, on a cold tile floor. Daddy would have some interesting patterns on his bare ass when he finally awoke, and Mommy... Well, Mommy would find that blueberry juice stains. Badly. And William would possibly wonder, in his baby-mind, why he was suckling on a blue nipple, a week from Easter... End