TITLE: IS THIS A DREAM? AUTHOR: MYSTIC RATING: NC-17 FINISHED: 8/13/97 Author Note: This is a sneaky little story. It decided to get lost in my new computer for two weeks and then just *poof* reappear. I hope it's worth all my trouble! ;) * * * * * * * * * * Alrighty, now that I have a computer in my room and I can hide things from my parents I thought I might take a chance and write one of these kinds of stories. No plot. No outside characters involved (I'm not as sick as some people may think.) Just the thoughts that might run through ones mind and the actions that take place on lovely evening. ********** FBI Building Friday 5:57PM The tension had been building for months and Dana Scully felt as though she were a volcano and Mulder was the small quake that it would take to make her explode. She'd been watching him, studying him for a long time, but only recently she realized that he was in love with her... and she realized that she was in love with him. It shouldn't have come as too much of a shock to her, but it did. For whatever reason. She also realized that her feelings for him weren't that new. She'd been in love with him for some time, and she regretted that her cancer is what had brought it to her consciousness. He looked to her as she stared at him, "Are you ok, Scully?" He asked, his voice full of concern, full of something else too, something she could only classify as love. But maybe it was just her. "I'm fine, Mulder." She replied, looking down at the folder that sat in front of her. Closing it she put her head in her hand and leaned against it heavily. She was tired. Not tired equaling sleep, but tired of being at work. She considered a second whether she should stay or just go home, but as she sat there and the words of the text on her computer blurred she realized that she should just go home. But, since Mulder had given her a ride to work, he had the keys to the only WAY home, unless she asked Skinner, and that would be too odd. "Scully?" he questioned again as her attention swayed to the door. She stood slowly, "I'm done for the day." He nodded and followed her to the door, locking it on the way out, but leaving the computer on, knowing he'd be back to finish his research on the telepathic bond between some married couples. Walking to the car he realized that she'd been out of it all day and he began to kick himself for not seeing it sooner. Her mind was on something else. Something that she wouldn't tell him, never, not in a million years. He opened the car door for her and closed it when she made no attempt to. Then drove, in silence to her house. Arriving at her house he almost had to drag her to the front door. She sighed as though she didn't really want to lift an arm to get the keys from her purse, so he used his and nudged her inside. Once in she threw herself onto the couch and sighed again. Mulder thought maybe she was finally having the motional breakdown that she deserved to have, but when he was going to question her she asked, "Have you ever thought about quitting the FBI?" He tensed, "Why, have you?" He worried that maybe she'd spent the day thinking about how to word her resignation, but this was Scully, she couldn't be doing that to him. At least not without telling him. But maybe this was her telling him. "I was thinking about a lot of things this last week." She turned to him, "Do you know how many times I've had a gun pointed at my head, or a bullet shot at me?" "I don't know." He mumbled, unsure of what she was getting at. Shaking her head she said quietly, "Neither do I. I stopped trying to count." "Do you want to quit the FBI?" He asked, the quickly added, in a lower tone, "Or do you just want to leave The X-Files?" She looked up at him sharply, "Neither." She looked out her front window, a little angry that she'd left it partially open all day while she was gone. "I was just thinking that I'm still young, I'd like to have a life some day and I find it too easy to see that not happening." "You have a life." He stated matter-of-factly. "Oh, I do?" She asked, perking up to the suggestion. "What do I do that you consider having a life." He pulled one of his legs under the other so he could turn to more easily see her, "Well, you've gone on more dates in the last four years than I have." He smiled to her and she smiled shyly at her shoes. "You go out all the time and have exciting adventures." He raised his eyebrows, making her laugh. "That's not a life Mulder, that's reckless endangerment. Most people could go to jail doing some of the things I do. Besides, I don't consider chasing little green men and other freaks into the night `Exciting Adventures'." She laughed a little to herself and then grew quiet for a moment. They stared at each other, as if both trying to figure out something to say that would be of interest. He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped short. "What?" She asked. He shrugged, "I was just wondering if you'd ever want to have a family." "Why would you ask that?" "I don't know, it's just that most people coming from a large family would either want another large family for themselves, or they don't want a family for themselves. And from what you've told me of your family, they seem loving, but I don't know if you'd want one or not, being so professional." "What's that supposed to mean?" It came out a little harsher than she intended. He raised his hands in defense, "Nothing, it's just that you're so into your job that it's hard for me to think of you interrupting this busy schedule to have a child." She turned away immediately, "It's nice to know you don't think I could handle being a mother." He leaned close to her, turning her face, "That's not what I meant." "Well," she turned, her nose inches from his, "What Did You Mean?" He smiled, "Nothing." he breathed. He kissed her nose and she backed up quickly. He laughed and leaned back on the blue and white striped couch. She rose and went to her room, emerging again minutes later in grey jogging pants and a white t-shirt. "Too bad I can't get comfortable." Mulder pouted. "Gee," she put her hands on her waist, "I thought you LIVED in that suit." He stood and stepped to her, playfully, "What's that supposed to mean?" He asked, mimicing her movements. "Nothing." She whispered pinching his belly, because she was unable and unwilling to jump up to plant a kiss on his nose. He moved to grab her and she dodged him and he wondered where all the `I'm done for the day' went. She seemed as active as a kitten at playtime. He stood for a moment while she tempted him on the other side of the couch to come get her. Slowly he pulled off his dark brown jacket and threw it on the table, "You asked for it." He said, doing something he thought he'd NEVER do, he lunged at her. She ran to her left as he went to the right and they ended up running around the couch until he caught up with her and threw her on the couch, jumping on top of her to restrict her movements. She squirmed and he laughed, "Did you think this was going to be easy?" he questioned. She looked him in the eye and shouted, "I didn't expect you to jump on me!" He made a mischievous face and covered her mouth, "You should be quiet, the neighbors are going to think we're up to something." "Maybe they should think that." Scully said, regretting the words as soon as they passed her lips. He looked to her and his eyes grew dark. She hesitated to think the word `Intense', that word scared her sometimes, as it did now, as he did now. Not him, not Mulder, but him, the Man that lay on her. "Scully are you coming onto me?" he said seductively. She DID NOT like the way her body reacted to his statement. She suddenly felt lightheaded and her stomach flipped inside of her. But she couldn't help playing along. She cocked her head to the right, "That would be a slight improbability since you're already on top of me." He remained where he was and just looked down at her, admiring her face as she blushed. Never had someone studied her face before. It was amazing. To even think that he was trying to memorize every small freckle, every line, every curve, every mole. Though he'd memorized them long ago. Someone could ask him to describe her and he'd be able to, well enough to paint her portrait without her being in the room. Though he knew that no artist would be able to capture her total beauty. "Dana..." "Mulder..." She smiled and looked away for a moment, then back at him and waited for him. "Do you want me to leave?" He asked. For a moment, and only that, she thought he might be kidding. That he would laugh at her reaction and then leave, leaving her lonely and hormonally excited. But he didn't, he waited for her answer, patiently, obediently, like a dog waiting to be told whether or not he would have dinner that night. She opened her mouth slowly, "No." `Oh God,' She immediately thought. She'd actually said that she didn't want him to go. She'd admitted that she wanted him to not leave. She had to think. She couldn't think. How was she going to get out of this one. `There you go Dana, don't think before you speak, try to think afterwards when you just can't!' He leaned forward and gently kissed her lips, then her cheeks, then brushed his lips on her forehead. She closed her eyes and waited for more, wanting more. But nothing came. Opening her eyes she saw him staring down at her, "Do you want this?" He asked. `Why was he asking permission?' was all that went through her head. `He's probably done this a million times, why isn'the just taking advantage of the moment?' But then she had to take the thought back when another hit her right between the eyes, `He loves me enough to respect me if I don't want to keep going.' It was sweet, but right now she didn't care for sweet too much, she wanted to know that he was willing to keep going. `But what if he was?' "Dana?" He asked. She took in a deep breath when he said her name. Not her last name, not the name that had been stamped onto her head when she walked through the door everyday at the FBI Building, but the one her mother had chosed out of love for that baby redhead so long ago. "Yes." She paused, "I've wanted this for a long time." He smiled. Then got off of her and carried her to her bedroom, laying her on the bed and standing in front her her, just looking at her, not believing whether or not she was going to let him keep going. He was afraid she would stop him. He wanted her to stop him before this, if she was going to stop him at all, but she'd let him. Now she lay waiting for him to come to her and caress her body. To command and be commanded. Of her, to her, with her, for her. He leaned over her and removed her t-shirt over her head slowly, giving her time to get out in one smooth glide instead of being tangled up in it. Then he removed his own dress shirt, and undershirt. He kicked off his shoes and then unzipped his pants, letting them drop to the floor and wiggled them off his ankles. Then pulled on her jogging pants. He removed all of their clothing until there was nothing left on them, but a small pile next to the bed. He removed te covers from one side of the bed and then picked her up carrying her there so she could get under. Then he joined her and kissed her again, more passionately, more urgent and she returned the kiss, hungrily, almost sucking at him. He rubbed circles around her breasts, closing in slowly on her nipples, two hard peaks that pressed into his chest when he removed his hands from them to run them down her body. `Perfection would be the only word to describe her,' he thought quickly. he could not find fault with her as he madehis way down her thighs and then back up to her belly. He kissed down her chest quickly, nipping at her belly button, then came back up to kiss up her neck and back down to her lips. She was immediately aroused when he picked her up from the couch and began to slowly remove their clothing, but she began to think, which she shouldn't have. She knew she loved him, she knew she trusted him, but should she be doing this? She knew she had to face him in the morning, she had to go back to work on Monday and look at him across the desk and see him there looking back at her. Was this going to change everything? Of course it was. What she didn't know was, was it going to change everything for better or for worse. She stopped thinking about it when she felt his erection press into her leg. It was as hard as a rock and at the same time as soft as silk. She reached down and took it in her hand, stroking it ever so gently. He moaned and it excited her greatly. Reaching over the bed he removed the silver packet and was ready to go in less than ten seconds. But still he paused, "Do you want this?" He asked and she was ready to kill him. "Please!" She cried in desperation. He slid into her quickly and she groaned in slight pain, forgetting it had been a while. He stopped immediately and looked at her, "You alright?" He asked, his voice dripping with sorrow at the thought hurting her. She smiled and kissed his lips for a long time, "I'm fine." She assured him. But it took a minute for the pain to disappear completely. He touched her as he dug deeper and deeper into her and came closer and closer with her groans of pleasure. He watched her face, but soon his eyes grew shut as he felt her body begin to shudder with the first signs of coming. Within seconds they had both come, in unison, crying each other's names into the silence of the small apartment. He took a few deep breaths and kissed her on the lips once, then laid to her side pulling her into an embrace, her back on his chest. He planted a kiss in her hair and she smiled. He never wanted to leave that moment, neither did she. Now she knew he was right, she did have a life and it was him. ********** Ok, that's about the weirdest writing experience I've ever had. This is my very first NC17, don't tell anyone! ;) I just hope it wasn't stupid or anything, so I would really appreciate comments. Mystic --