A Love So Strong by Leyla Harrison Disclaimer: The usual stuff. Mulder and Scully belong to Chris Carter and Co. I only wish I owned them! **WARNING** This story is rated NC-17 for consentual, loving sexual situations between Mulder and Scully. If this bothers you of if you are underage, stop reading now. Part 1 is PG-13 for adult situations, but Part 2 contains all the NC-17 stuff. Read on at your own risk. Spoilers: There are spoilers from Wetwired and Pusher, and I think I might have thrown in a few references to events over the span from first through the third season, but I don't think it's anything that most viewers don't already know. Mulder/Scully romance ahead!!! All you non-relationshippers better grab ahold of your airsick bags or bail out now!!! ***** It had been one of those days. Mulder and Scully had just returned from Minnesota, where they had been working on a case for the last two weeks. All Scully had wanted to do when she got home was sink into a hot bath and crawl into bed. Mulder had agreed to drop her off at home since his car was the only one they had at National Airport. After all, it was late, and he knew she was tired. But they had fought. The fight had started at the airport. "I can catch a cab from here," Scully said to him. "Dropping me off would be way out of your way." "Scully, it's past midnight. I'm not going to put you in a cab by yourself this late," Mulder had asked. He was irritable as well. Neither one of them had slept much the previous few days. "Thank you very much, but I can take care of myself," she had replied, and had left him alone in the terminal, striding through the doors and outside. Mulder followed her out to the curb, where she was trying to hail a cab. Her traditional suitcase, which was a carry on size on wheels, was propped up next to her. "Come on, Scully, let's not argue. It's late. Let me drive you home." No way, she thought. She was tired. To make matters worse, on the plane, he had touched her hand accidentally and she had caught his eye, seeing something she was used to seeing but that frightened her. He was giving her that look. The one that said, come on Scully, we both know we're attracted to each other. It scared her now, because she was tired, and that meant she was vulnerable. If he drove her home, he would insist on helping her in. And in her state of mind, she wasn't sure that she would be able to keep up her defenses. "Mulder, I can get a cab by myself. It's no big deal. Now go home. It's late." Mulder stood there for a moment. She was right. It was late. But he wanted to take her home. He had felt her tense up when he had touched her on the plane. Something was different about it. They had touched each other in those simple, harmless ways before, and although they both knew that it meant something, that it was drawing upon feelings neither one wanted to admit, nothing had come of it. But Mulder sensed that somehow, this was different. This touch had some kind of potential. And now she was standing there like a petulant child. It made him angry. "Fine," he finally said, gathering his own bag and turning to walk away. "You *are* the Ice Queen," he muttered under his breath, not meaning for her to hear him. But Scully heard it. "What did you say?" she asked indignantly. Mulder ignored her. He kept walking. ***** Two and a half hours later, as Mulder was settling himself on the couch, he heard a rapping on his front door. He checked the clock. Two fifteen. It had to be Scully. He sighed heavily. He had assumed that this confrontation would have held until they were back in the office in the morning. He went to the door. "Who is it?" "Mulder, it's me," she answered, her tone curt. He opened the door to her. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt. Her hair was pulled back into a hasty ponytail. She looked no less tired than she had at the airport. "Come on in," he said, gesturing, and walked back to the couch, leaving her to shut the door. "What the hell is going on with you?" she asked, obviously still angry. "Scully, it's the middle of the night. Don't you want to fight about this tomorrow at the office?" he asked. "I was trying to get some sleep." He indicated his sweats and t-shirt. "Well, I'm sorry I interrupted." Her voice was angry. "But I think we need to talk." "About what?" he answered, sinking down back into the couch. "As far as I can tell, everything's fine." "Mulder, what do you want from me? What do you want me to say?" Her voice was tinged with exhaustion and bitterness. "Sure, Mulder, go ahead and save me from the danger of taking a cab alone late at night, because I obviously can't take care of myself. Is that what you want to hear? Would that make you feel better, to hear me admit that, that I'm just your typical defenseless woman?" "Oh, cut the crap, Scully," Mulder said sharply. "Keep in mind that I *do* keep having to save you from all the life threatening situations we're in. It's almost like you *can't* protect yourself." He spat the words out and instantly regretted them as he saw the look of horror that passed over Scully's face. He knew he had tapped into her biggest insecurity. She never wanted him to feel like he had to protect her. He knew that. God, he thought, why did I say that? Scully couldn't speak for a moment from the pain that his words caused. Her eyes had clouded over. She wanted to top him somehow, to hurt him as he had just hurt her, and yet she knew that attacking each other would accomplish nothing. But she went ahead nonetheless. "What about you?" she managed to reply. "I've pulled your ass out of a sling more times than I care to remember." "I guess partners are supposed to do that," he retorted. "So we're even." "But do partners lie for each other? How many times have I lied to Skinner for you? How many times have I put my reputation on the line for you?" Her voice was rising now. "I thought...I thought you said you wouldn't have put your reputation on the line for anyone else," Mulder said, his anger falling away, his voice confused. She had said that. And he thought she had meant it. But Scully wasn't finished. She was getting closer now, closer to the center of what made him tick. As his closest friend, she knew exactly what hurt him the most. "But why have I done it? So that your ideas could be seen by the higher ups who think you're full of shit? To let the truth be known? No. This is all one big search for your sister. And I've been protecting that search. I've let you pull the charade over on the Bureau for a long time. That's what the X-Files are all about. They're a front so that you can find your sister." Mulder was indignant. "What the hell does my sister have to do with anything?" he asked, raising his own voice to match hers. "She was abducted by aliens, right, Mulder?" Scully snapped caustically. "In all likelihood, she's dead, Mulder. She's probably been dead for years. She was probably kidnapped by someone that night, taken from your house," Scully said, somewhat gratified by the look of horror and pain that was crossing Mulder's face. She used it to spur her on. "And someone, some crazy person, probably raped her and murdered her. He probably buried her somewhere. That's what I think happened." As soon as she was done speaking, she realized what she had done. What she had said. She knew that she had gone way too far. Mulder had heard quite enough. He stood up and took hold of her arm then, tightly. Roughly. "Let go of me," Scully cried, not scared, but angry. She could feel the anger in Mulder's tight grip. She tried to pull free but Mulder was too strong. "Let me go, Mulder, you're hurting me." "Good," he snarled back at her. "Maybe it's about time that you get hurt for once, Scully. All I've done is get hurt. What about you? Have you gone through any pain because of all of this? Look at everything I've lost. What the hell have you lost?" As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he knew that they were unfair, that they weren't true, and he wished he could take them back. But it was too late. Scully's eyes had gone dark and cold. Scully violently wrenched her arm out of Mulder's grip. She gathered her composure as best she could, tried to slow her breathing. She was filled with fury and rage at him. She pushed aside every positive feeling that she felt for him over the last four years. Her admiration for his passion about his work, the thrill she got from seeing that certain look in his eye, the fear she felt for his safety, the overwhelming relief when she knew that he was alright, the unspoken sexual tension between them, the feelings she had for him that went far beyond their partnership... No, she told herself. No. Don't think about it. "May I remind you," she said coolly, her voice quiet and controlled, "that ever since I have been tagging along with you, through all the times that I have accepted your opinions and ideas as being possibilities, through every time that I allowed you to step outside of Bureau policy, through each time that I gave you the benefit of the doubt..." she paused, taking in a breath, "that I have lost things too. I lost my sister." She couldn't bring herself to speak Melissa's name. "I was almost killed. I lost two months of my life." She watched his face. "And it's all because of you, Mulder. It's all because of my involvement with you and the X-Files." As she spoke, his face went from angry to frightened to guilt-stricken. She had hit home with her last remark and she knew it. "Sure, I could have walked away at any time. But you have always told me that you need me to work with you. That I am the only one who respects and admires your beliefs. So I stayed. Well, thank you very much, Mulder, for all the pain *you've* caused me." She couldn't believe she was saying these things to him. She couldn't believe what he was saying to her. Scully knew they were both being irrational and completely out of character. What the hell was happening to them? But it was too late. The words were out. And now, came the pain for both of them. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I know I can't bring Melissa back. I can't bring my father back. And I know I've done all of this. My search for the truth has brought on so much pain. For you and for me." Mulder paused, his throat tight. He sometimes wished that he could take back everything that had happened over the last few years. Except Scully. She had always been his light, his focus. Before she had walked in that door, he had been alone, frustrated, considered a loose cannon and definitely "spooky". And then she walked into his life. She had been full of rational explanations and logical answers, and she had infuriated him. And intrigued him. She had lent her analytical intelligence and her reasonable and deductive thinking to every case they were on. She had learned things, she had taught him things, and together they had seen some incredible things. And they had forged a partnership. And a friendship, a friendship that was stronger than he had thought could exist. And somewhere along the line, he had fallen in love with her. He had fallen in love with everything about her. He loved her skepticism. He loved the way she wasn't afraid of anything, or anyone. The fact that although she was small in stature, she made up for it in intelligence, reasoning, and skill as a federal agent. He loved her rare willingness to go out on a limb with him. He loved the way she arched her brow at him. He loved that incredible smile. That when she flashed it at him, it made him feel as if he was a hundred times more important or worthwhile than anyone else in the world. That smile made him feel alive. It made him feel cared about. He didn't hate flying anymore, or driving endless miles along empty highways anymore because she was with him. He felt guilty for doing it, but he fantasized about her constantly. Her fair skin, her bright blue eyes, her full lips, her mass of auburn hair. He was still a lonely soul, but he knew that he was in love with Dana Scully, body, mind, and spirit. The silence in the room was so thick that it could have been cut with a knife. Mulder knew he had to say something to her, something to remedy the nightmare situation he had just thrown them into. He didn't know if there was a way. He didn't know if she would forgive him for all the things he had said, for the things he had done. Suddenly, having her forgiveness was very important to him. "Scully," he ventured softly, "you know, some people would say that we only fight like this because of how much we care about each other." She cast a look at him, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "What do you mean?" "They say that when the positive feelings are so strong, that the negative ones are that strong as well." "So what do you mean, that because I love you so much, that's the explanation for why I am so angry at you right now?" The words fell unbidden from her lips. She looked at him, both surprised and ashamed that she had said it. Scully knew that they cared for each other. She knew that they loved each other. She even knew that she was in love with Mulder. But they had never spoken aloud that word to describe their relationship or their feelings. Love. It was frightening. She was frightened now, realizing what she had said. "Do you?" Mulder asked, his voice strangled. He couldn't believe her words. Could she have meant them? "Do I what?" she asked, desperately trying to backtrack, trying to gloss over what she had just said. She knew, though, that as well as she knew Mulder, that it wasn't going to go past him. "Do you love me, Scully?" Scully looked at him. What was not to love? she thought. He was brilliant. There was no one that she would rather match wits with than him. For the last few years, without even realizing the shift, her whole life had become wrapped up in him and in the work they did. He had a passion about his beliefs, a passion so strong. She had often let herself slip into fantasy, letting herself imagine what it would be like to be on the receiving end of that passion. And the consequences for loving him had been blatant in her mind from the first day she fully realized how she felt about him. Which was why she knew that nothing could ever happen between them. She had resigned herself to that fact. But as determined as she was never to let her feelings slip out, they had anyway. There were times when she was vulnerable and wasn't able to keep up her shield of control and calm. And those were the times when her feelings for Mulder had seeped out through the mask of security and control that she had created to live behind. Modell. It sprang to mind immediately. That was the first time that Scully had been so painfully aware of just how much she loved Mulder. She knew at that point, that without at doubt, that it would be difficult, if not impossible, to deny to even herself the feelings she had for Mulder. Before he had gone into Fairfax Mercy Hospital, she had let her guard down and let her feelings show. She had clasped her hands over his, her eyes worried, feeling his gaze on her. In that brief moment, he had seen what she had been trying so desperately to hide. He had seen it, and he had understood. She had felt his feelings for her coming back to warm her through his eyes. For a millisecond, he had made her feel as if everything was fine, even though she knew it wouldn't be. Because of his love for her. Because of how strong that love was. She had only been so scared because she had sensed that it was going to be bad. She never would have been able to guess how bad. When she has walked into the room to find Modell across the table from Mulder, after realizing what Modell's plan was, after realizing that Mulder was indeed being "pushed", she had been terrified. Not so much for her own life, but for Mulder's. It wasn't so much the first pull of the trigger that had gotten her so upset. She thought about it later and realized that if the bullet had been in that first chamber and if Mulder had shot Modell, even though it was in cold blood, that she wouldn't have been sorry. The second pull of the trigger - that was what got her. Mulder had absolutely no reservations about putting the gun to his head and pulling the trigger. Scully would be forever haunted by the look of agony and pain on his face as he pulled the trigger. And to hear the click...that click was still in her head. It followed her into her nightmares when she slept. The shout of anger and fear that she had let out was not even close to expressing how she really felt. When Mulder had turned the gun on her, she was scared. There was no denying that. Her main fear, though, was not so much for her own life, although she had feared for it. She had seen the look on his face. The internal struggle. It was harder to point that gun at her than it had been if he had been taking his own life. And that was when she knew unquestionably how he felt about her. As he urged her to run. As he saw the tear rolling down her cheek. She knew that as hard as he had tried to hide it, that he loved her as well. Which was why he wanted to save her. She knew he couldn't have lived with himself knowing he had killed her. And what had she done? Later, she had gone into Modell's hospital room. Mulder was barely able to look at her. Barely able to meet her eyes. When they had gotten through the small talk, all she had been able to do was lace her fingers around his for a moment, letting him feel some of the warmth of her skin. And then she released his hand and left him alone in there. She hated herself for that. She had left him alone in there when what she had wanted to do was drag him out of the hospital, to a safe place where no one was watching, and hold him. Tightly. And not let go. She wanted to comfort him, to love him, to let him know he was loved. That would have been against her inner policy of retaining some sense of distance between them. It hadn't stopped her from wanting to do it anyway. She had wanted to hold him so badly that she ached from wanting it. She ached now, just remembering it. "Do you love me, Scully?" he asked again, startling her out of her reverie. She looked at him. How could she answer such a question? If she said no, she would be lying. And she would be responsible for continuing to perpetuate the lie that they had managed to maintain for so long now. If she said yes, she would be telling the truth. She would be allowing them to show their feelings for each other. She would be letting herself feel those things that she normally kept so well hidden. And she had a feeling that loving Mulder would make her feel whole and complete - and happy. On the flip side, she would have to open herself up to him. She would have to let down that shield, that protective barrier that she kept up to keep herself from getting hurt. Some good it's done me, she thought bitterly. "Yes," she whispered, taking the chance. "Yes, Mulder, I do love you." Silence again. Mulder knew how hard it was for her to say that. He knew. He could see her body tense when he had asked her. He knew how to read that tension. He marveled at the fact that they knew each other that well, that he could understand from her body language, no matter how slight, what was going on inside her head. Mulder crossed the room and came to her side. Her faced her. Looked her right in the eye. Reached out one hand to gently trace the line of her jaw. He felt her shiver. He felt a rush of warmth and fear go through him all at once. Ignoring the fear, he leaned down and touched his lips to hers, intending to be gentle. Three years of pent-up emotions came out in that kiss. There was a fire burning between them as Scully sought his lips with an urgency that Mulder never could have imagined she had. She kissed him as if they were about to be separated, as if they would never see each other again. She kissed him as if she had been kissing him forever. Their lips fit together perfectly. Mulder felt her lips part slightly and he slipped his tongue between that space, hearing her sigh and realizing that this was what he wanted. This was what he had always wanted. He wrapped his arms around her and moved his hands through her hair, down her neck and back, over her hips, feeling her response. Scully arched her back and pressed herself closer to him, fusing their bodies together tightly. She kissed him harder, her arms around his waist. Mulder slipped one hand between them and cupped the side of her breast in his hand. Scully moaned aloud softly. "Mulder," she breathed, pulling her mouth from his for a moment. "Oh, God," she managed to get out. The reality of what they were doing washed over her. She pulled from him, reluctantly almost, but pulled back. He was left holding her arm. "Scully," he started to say, but she cut him off. "Mulder, no. We can't do this." Her eyes were closed. She was trying desperately not to cry. God, she wanted him. It was as if all the desire and love she had felt for so many years had all been released, and now that it was out, she was having a very hard time holding it back. She opened her eyes, looked at him. He wanted her, as well. She could see the hunger in his eyes. "Please, Mulder," Scully whispered quietly, closing her eyes again. She looked as if she were in pain. And she was, internally. Her mind was raging. "Please what?" Mulder asked in the same low voice, loosening his grip on her arm a little, but not completely. "Please let you go or please make you stay?" Scully opened her eyes, bit her lower lip to keep from crying. "I don't know," she whispered. She wouldn't look directly at him. I can't let her go, he thought. He was filled with such a strong need, a need to be with her, to be close to her. He *needed* her, for God's sake. The tension in the room was palpable. It was as if there had been an electrical current set loose. Everything else in the room had faded into the background and the only space, the only air left, was the air between the two of them. "Please, Mulder," she repeated again. This time, he let her go. He released her arm and it fell to her side. "Are you leaving?" he asked. She turned to look at him. "I don't know," she said. "How can I?" she asked, as if accusing him. "How can I just walk out of here? It's not fair, Mulder." "It's not fair for us to have what we want? What we need?" he countered back. "Scully, it's not fair for us to deny it, either. We've done that for far too long." "So I should just throw caution to the wind? I should just stay here and we should make love?" she asked. "Or should I leave? Should I walk out of here and pretend that nothing happened tonight?" A shudder of excitement went through him as he imagined making love to her, as he had hundreds of thousands of times before. "No," he said calmly, "I don't think we can pretend anymore, Scully. But I think we both know what will happen if you stay." He let her digest that for a moment. "And if you don't want that, then, well, Scully, I think you should go." His voice cracked slightly. Silence filled the room as each of them contemplated all that had occurred during the time that they had known each other. Scully knew, somehow, in her very core, that Mulder had not said all of those hurtful things earlier to push her away, but because he wanted her near. But her ears still echoed with his hurtful words. Mulder knew that he was on the verge of tears, on the verge of losing control, because she was still standing there, even though he had hurt her, and he knew it, and he hated himself for doing it. But he loved her. He wanted her to stay. He wanted to stop hurting her and stop hurting himself, for once. He wanted so much, and in that moment it all came down to being with her, right at that moment. "I think..." Scully whispered, "I think I should leave." Pain went through Mulder like a dagger. He tried not to show it. "If that's what you want," he managed to say, trying to sound indifferent. Scully came to him, close to him. She touched his face with her hand. "I don't think you know how much I love you," she told him, her eyes brimming with silent tears. "I don't think you'll ever know." Then stay, he pleaded with her silently, searching her eyes. Please, Scully, don't leave. Scully saw it. She wanted to kiss him again, to ignore the chaos that was going on in her head and just follow her heart for once. The fear of their relationship affecting their work at the Bureau was the least of her worries. The fear of having Skinner or anyone else find out was the farthest thing from her mind. What she feared most was the fact that being here with Mulder, staying with him, making love with him, would mean that she would have to tear down all of the walls that she had so carefully constructed around herself for years. She would have to allow herself to be vulnerable. She would have to be willing to risk her feelings. Scully knew that since she had known Mulder that was all she had been doing, was risking her feelings. How could this one man have affected her life so much? From the first day they had known each other up until this point, her whole life had become entwined with his. She told herself that it was just because of work, that working on these types of cases with a partner meant that she would have to allow a certain amount of loyalty to her partner. But she knew that what was between her and Mulder went far beyond loyalty at this point. It went far beyond partnership. Far beyond friendship. Mulder felt the softness in her hand as it touched his face. She wasn't angry. Just resolute. "Maybe..." Scully whispered, "maybe I could stay." A twinge of hope shot through Mulder. Without thinking, Scully took his hand and led him into his bedroom silently. She sat down on the bed and kicked her shoes off, leaving her bare footed. Then she turned to lay down, curling up, and he followed her, hesitant at first, but then realizing what she wanted. He put his arms around her willingly, holding her. It felt good. It felt right. There was no need to talk. No need to do anything at all, Mulder thought, except hold her. He had wanted to hold her like this for so long. He closed his eyes and pressed his face into her, half into her neck, half into her hair. She smelled faintly of a mixture of perfume and peaches. He was physically closer to her than he had ever been, with the exception of the kiss minutes before. He didn't dare move. It was incredible, and wondeful, and peaceful. He wanted it to last forever. ***** "Thinking I would betray you," Mulder murmured softly in the darkness almost an hour later. "What?" Scully asked, half-turning in his arms so she could see him. Mulder looked down at her, her hair slightly tousled. He was unaware that he had been speaking aloud. "That case we were working on. The signal that was being sent through the televisions." Scully nodded to show she remembered. "I said that it turned people's anxieties into their worst nightmares. You thought I had betrayed you. It was your worst nightmare." He looked to her for confirmation. Scully pondered this thought for a moment. "I guess it is my worst nightmare." "Not losing your life? Your job? Your family?" Scully laughed softly, a bitter little laugh. "First of all, Mulder, I don't have much family left to lose. And my job at the Bureau, well, I could always work forensic pathology somewhere. Losing my life? I've almost lost my life too many times to count. I guess the fear of that is always there, but in a way I must have gotten used to it." "I would never betray you," Mulder said to her. "What's your worst fear?" she asked. "Losing you," he answered without hesitation. "I thought I lost you once. I never want to go through that again." He paused for a moment, trying not to let his fears get the better of him. "I love you, Scully." Her eyes welled up with tears as he said the words. She knew how frightening it must have been for him to say them. "Mulder, you and I are afraid to love. We're afraid we'll lose the person we love. Look at what's happened to us. Look at who we've lost." She searched his eyes. "Samantha. Your father. My father. Missy." She cleared her throat quietly, pushing the tears back. "I don't think there's anyone in the world who is sane enough to take a chance on getting involved with either one of us." "Except each other." Scully looked at him. "What do you mean?" "The way I see it, Scully, you're right. No one in their right mind would want to get involved with either one of us. We both go flying off on a case at a moment's notice. We're both deeply involved in our work. Who would want to be in a relationship with someone like that?" "What's your point?" she asked. "I think that as depressing as it is, there probably isn't anyone out there who is right for either one of us. The only people we could probably be right for would be each other." Scully was silent for a moment, pondering this. "I don't know of anyone who would be supportive and understanding enough to deal with some of the things we deal with. My mother sometimes gets angry at me when I don't call for weeks on end." "I love you, Scully," Mulder repeated, this time feeling less anxiety. "What do I have to say to prove it to you?" "You don't have to prove it to me, Mulder," she said. "I believe you." "There wasn't a lot of conviction in your voice," he replied. She shrugged. "Look, Scully, there's no one I would ever rather spend time with, whether professionally or personally, than you. You're a consummate pro in your field, and the best agent I've ever worked with. You're the best partner I've ever had. You've got an uncanny sense of women's intuition" - this brought an arched eyebrow from Scully - "the likes of which I have never seen before. You're my best friend. I've never trusted anyone more than I trust you. And I've never been more attracted to anyone else in my life as I am to you." He breathed deeply, amazed that he felt so much about her and never really told her any of it. He had always just assumed that she knew. "I know," she said softly after a few moments. "It's the same for me." There was silence. Mulder traced his fingers over her lips. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, almost not believing that he was able to say it to her. "What are we going to do?" Scully whispered back. "About..." "About this. About us." Scully gestured at the two of them in bed. "It depends on what we want to do," Mulder answered. "You mean...it depends on if I get up and leave, or if I stay and we make love," Scully clarified. Mulder nodded. "Mulder..." Scully said, looking down, hesitancy in her voice. "I don't want you to leave," Mulder told her earnestly. "I want you to stay. I want to be with you, like this," he motioned to their intertwined, fully clothed bodies, "and I want to make love to you." He felt her tremble in his embrace. "What about Skinner?" she asked. "I don't want to make love to Skinner," Mulder joked. Scully giggled at the thought. "Seriously, Mulder. What are we going to do about work? About the Bureau? If anyone finds out..." "So we make sure no one finds out," he responded. "I won't tell if you won't." Scully drew in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. "I'm worried." "Why?" "Because I think that once we cross that line," she said, looking him square in the eye with a dead serious expression, "that I won't want to be apart from you for a second. Not for a minute." "Scully--" "Mulder, you don't understand. I've thought about this abstractly for as long as I've known you. Concretely, I've thought about making love with you...and the thoughts have been, well, arousing. Very arousing." Now it was Mulder's turn to shudder slightly. Scully felt it and a tingle of pleasure went through her. "I don't know how we could hide it. I'm worried that our cover would be blown." "Scully, whatever happens between us is between us. Unless we wanted them to, no one would know. No matter how passionate you feel towards me." Scully turned so that she was facing him fully, completely in his embrace. "I feel very passionately about you, Mulder," she whispered, her voice low and husky. She let one hand trail over his chest, her fingers lightly touching his taut muscles. "Scully," he said, feeling the breath in his lungs being sucked away, "God, Scully..." Almost as abruptly as she had assaulted his senses, she stopped as she saw the look of passion and desire cross his face. She turned over, letting him hold her again, her back to him. What stopped her? he wondered. Fear? He tightened his arms around her body, around her waist. Minutes went by. Mulder slipped his hands over the cotton of her shirt, and when he realized that it was untucked, he slipped his hands underneath it to caress the smooth skin of her stomach. Her skin was cool against the heat of his hands. Scully sighed at the contact. He moved his hands lower, to the waist of her jeans, running his fingers over the button and the zipper. He unbuttoned and unzipped them, not knowing exactly what he was going to do and feeling the terrifying urge that she was going to sit up and slap him. But she didn't. She sighed again. Mulder's face was pressed up against the back of her neck. He moved his long arms and skimmed one fingertip over the silky waistband of her cotton panties. He smiled to himself. In all the fantasies he had about Scully, he had never stopped to think about undergarments. All he had thought of was her body, her creamy skin. "Mulder," she whispered as he slipped his hand into them. "Mulder, wait..." "Tell me if you want me to stop, Scully," he whispered back, holding his hand still, "and I will." "No," she murmured. "Don't stop." She pressed her body back into him tightly, feeling the hardness of his erection through her jeans in the small space between her buttocks. It was an incredibly erotic sensation, and she moved a little, shifted a bit, to give it some friction. Mulder gasped in response. She could feel his hand moving down, warm and smooth, his fingers lacing their way through her curly hair, and she unconsciously scissored her legs open to give him better access. And then his fingers slipped into her folds of skin. She was hot and wet. "Mulder," she sighed, "oh, Mulder." He slipped his fingers over her clitoris, briefly, causing her to moan softly. He was straining against her now, his erection growing as he felt her arousal, but tried not to concentrate on it. She was moving her hips slightly against him. All he wanted to concentrate on was this. Giving her pleasure. He slid one finger inside her, then another. She was almost ten degrees warmer inside, and he could feel her inner muscles contracting around his fingers. She let out a small gasp. His lips were close to her ear and he let out a sigh at the sensations that were going on around his fingers. "Scully," he murmured, "I felt that." He kept the fingers inside her and returned to her clitoris, teasing it again with his thumb, moving back and forth over it and slipping his fingers in and out of her slowly. She arched against his hand. "Mulder, oh, God," she gasped. "Tell me exactly what feels good," he whispered to her. "Up a little..." "Here?" he asked, and she moaned in response. He kept up the rhythm of his thumb and continued to slide his fingers in and out of her, increasing his pace just a little. Her hips were now moving faster against his hand, and Mulder had to use his other hand around her waist to keep her anchored. He couldn't see her face, couldn't see her expressions of arousal. But he could feel her. And he could hear her. "Mulder," she cried out at one point, sounding as if she was in pain. But he knew she wasn't in pain. Her voice was raw with need. "Please..." "Stop?" he asked. "No, don't stop, Mulder. Please," she repeated, her voice hoarse. "Please don't stop." "I won't," he promised, and kept moving inside her, outside of her. She was bucking now in his embrace, moaning aloud, calling his name. God, he thought. Oh, God, this is unbelievable. Scully could not ever recall having felt this way in her life. She had her share of sexual experiences, although she assumed she didn't have quite the experience Mulder had, but she had never before felt so...inflamed. She had never felt like this with anyone. He felt her muscles tightening. "Mulder," she gasped, "Mulder, I'm going to come." He pressed his face into her neck. He didn't know what to say to her. In all of his wildest dreams he had never thought that he would be doing this to her. He never imagined that he could have been so aroused by her. He never thought that he would have ever heard her say those words. Scully threw her head back, and she took in a deep breath. Then it happened. She spasmed wildly against his hand, crying out, shuddering, as she came. Mulder did not remove his fingers from her until her body had once again relaxed. He felt a thin sheen of perspiration on her skin, on her neck. He wrapped both arms tightly around her, holding her safe and secure. Mulder gently kissed her neck. He still could not see her face. He wished he had been able to see her as the orgasm had overtaken her. Scully was silent. "Are you OK?" he asked softly, in her ear. She was trembling. "Scully?" he asked. She wasn't trembling, he realized. She was crying. "Hey," he whispered, turning her so that he could see her face. "Scully, did I hurt you? What's wrong?" Silent tears were coming from her eyes and her body shook slightly as they did. She didn't make a sound. She shook her head in response. "What's wrong?" he asked, concerned. "Mulder," she whispered through the tears, "up until this point, I thought that, well, that we could have walked away from this and it would have been alright. We hadn't done anything that we couldn't have explained away." "What about the kiss?" he asked. "It could have been explained. We were both tense. We needed a release." "And now?" he asked. "Now..." she whispered, swiping at the tears, "now, I don't know. I don't think we could explain what just happened as tension." She was silent for a moment. "I chickened out on you back there. I was going to seduce you, and I...got scared. I know you wanted to make love." "We can, if you want," he replied. "What I just felt...what I heard, Scully, it was amazing. Absolutely incredible. You were incredible." She nodded slightly. "It's never been like that for me before," she admitted. There was silence as they regarded each other. "So what do you want to do now?" he asked. She lifted her shoulders in a half shrug. Then, without answering him with words, she lifted her head up to kiss him. Mulder met her lips. It was like two people finding each other in a storm. He kissed her, feeling her nibble on his lower lip, running her tongue along it, slipping it between his lips. The erection he had that had never gone away grew harder, more painful. They were kissing harder now, in a way that left nothing to the imagination. This was a kiss of two people who wanted to touch each other, who wanted to make love, who wanted to be joined in that very intimate way. Scully moaned softly into Mulder's mouth as his hands ran over her breasts, over the already hardened nipples. She felt her fear and her apprehension drifting away from her. All she could think about was him, the feel of his body pressed against hers. "You're wearing too many clothes," she murmured, and he pulled the t-shirt up and over his head in an instant. Bare chested, he helped her slip off her jeans and pull her own t-shirt off. He unclasped her bra in the back, kissing her shoulders as he did. Naked, she lay beneath him. The fear returned. What if I'm not as much of a turn on as all of the other women he has slept with? she thought for a moment. But then she looked to meet his eyes after he had looked her body over. His eyes were shining. With happiness. With joy. With unbridled desire. "Jesus, Scully," he breathed, "I had always thought you were going to be beautiful...but I didn't think you could possibly be *this* beautiful." She smiled shyly, a lazy, almost coy smile. "Maybe you should get out of those pants," she responded. Mulder pulled off his sweats and tossed them over the side of the bed as well. Scully took in his body with her eyes, then her hands. "You're so..." she paused, trying to think of the right word, "masculine," she finally came up with. "Everything about you is so very male." "Well, I would hope so," he answered. She chuckled. "No, I mean, when I look at you, I think of how much I have thought about this before, and how everything I thought of was about the sexual act, and it didn't have as much to do with this, with you, with your body, with the way you think and feel. You're amazing, Mulder. When I look at you like this, now, with that look in your eyes...you make me feel very wanted. Very loved." "You fantasized about us making love?" he asked, surprised. She blushed slightly, nodding. "Well, let's see how the real thing holds up to your fantasies." They pressed up against each other, skin to skin. The contact was electric. Mulder slowly kissed every part of her face. He ran his hands over her back, through her hair. He bent his head to suckle her nipples, hearing her sighing softly and feeling her hold his head close to her in her hands. She spread her legs and he pressed himself between them. She could feel how hard he was against her thigh, and she reached down to touch him, to run her fingers along the shaft of him. "Scully," he gasped. "Jesus, Scully." She smiled at him. It made her feel good to know that she had that kind of power over him. That he wasn't the only one. He moved closer, so that he was right at her opening. He touched her there, finding that she was still wet. Still warm. Still throbbing. "Last chance," he murmured to her. "Last chance to change your mind." "No way," she whispered. "God, Mulder, I want you." He sank into her in one smooth motion. Scully gasped at how it felt as he filled her. "Oh," she managed to cry out, gripping his back tightly. "God," Mulder groaned in response. She was hot and wet and tight and a million other things that he couldn't quite put together in his head at that moment. Oh, God, she was incredible. How long had he dreamed about this? Wanted this? It seemed like forever. He moved within her, hesitantly at first, then finding a rhythm. One smooth stroke in, one stroke out. Her head was thrown back on the pillow, her eyes closed, and she was moaning softly. Mulder wondered if that was how she had looked earlier when he had been bringing her to orgasm with his hand and fingers. He knew that he wanted to see it this time, in every precise detail. He wanted to see every movement she made, every facial expression. Mulder increased his speed. He was thrusting in and out of her, and she was lifting her hips off the bed to meet him stroke for stroke. "Scully," he gasped, "Scully, look at me." Scully opened her eyes. She looked dazed, her long lashes hanging over her eyes, her eyes themselves half open, heavy lidded with desire. She lifted her body in such a way that he was able to sink deeper into her. Mulder moved faster in her, watching her face, hearing how her moans increased as he moved within her. "Jesus," he moaned, "oh God." "Together," she managed to whisper. Mulder prayed that he could come at the same time as her. He wanted them to fall over that cliff together, but he wasn't sure that he could. Most of the time when he had been with other women, he had come before them, and physically satisfying as it had been, he had always felt as if emotionally, something were missing. It had taken away from the physical enjoyment of it. But as he looked at Scully, he knew that she was as close to the brink as he was, and he knew suddenly that the something missing with other women was not missing now. He nodded at her. His strokes were shorter now, faster. He was desperate to find that release for himself and to bring it to her. They were both moaning now, gasping for air. "Mulder," she cried, in that tone. He knew. He could tell by her voice and the tightening her felt in her muscles. He knew she was right there, at the edge. And he felt it in himself. He was there too. "Dana," he cried, unable to say anything more. And as he exploded into her, he felt her coming as well. He watched her as best as he could, as she struggled to keep her eyes open amidst the overwhelming surge of emotional and physical release she was feeling. He collapsed onto her, his face buried in her neck, closing his eyes. He could feel the pulse in her neck as it slowed to normal. He rolled off of her carefully, taking her into his arms. "I love you," she murmured, a sleepy smile on her face, her eyes half closed. She was already half-asleep. "I know," he answered back. "I love you, too." And before he knew it, he fell asleep as well. ***** Mulder dreamed. He dreamed that he and Scully were on some case, he didn't know what or where it was, but they were underwater, searching for something. Mulder could feel himself, weightless, the rubber suit around his body cool and comforting. Even the oxygen tanks on his back were light, and if he hadn't seen the bubbles every time he exhaled, he almost forgot they were there, sixty pounds of them strapped to his back. He was wearing a face mask, which allowed him to see clearly in the depths of the water. He breathed in and out smoothly through the mouthpiece on his breathing apparatus that was connected to the tanks on his back. He turned, seeing something silvery glide past him, and wanted to call out to Scully - hey, Scully, look at this - but remembered that they would have to rely on silent communication and hand signals while they were underwater. He turned to look for her, to point out whatever it was that had swam past him. Scully was nearby, no more than ten feet from him. He pointed at the silver fish and she nodded. Mulder looked around him. All he could see was the water. It was a rich, aquamarine blue, and as he looked up, far up, he could see the sun causing sparkles like crystal towards the surface. The sand below him was pure white, unmarked by footsteps or any other indication that humans had been in these particular depths. A small school of fish swam past him. They were each about the size of his hand, yellow and purple and silver. His eyes widened. They were gliding, silent, oblivious to his presence. They were beautiful. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Scully moving away to look at something, but he didn't pay attention. He was mesmerized by the gracefulness of the fish. Then, suddenly, he heard a noise. It was a great loud noise, and Mulder wasn't sure exactly what it was or where it was coming from. Mulder turned, away from the fish, and saw a large rock, twice his size, and Scully emerged from behind it. Her hair, her auburn hair, was flowing streamlessly in the water. Through her face mask, he could see that her eyes were wide, panic stricken. And Mulder realized, with a start, that something was wrong with her oxygen. He could see her struggling for air, and nothing was happening. Mulder swam to her side as quickly as his own apparatus would let him. Panicked, Scully pulled at her face mask, at her breathing apparatus, despite Mulder's frantic attempt to gesture to her to leave it in place. She succeeded in pulling it off and hurled it and the faulty oxygen tanks away from her and they slowly floated to the ocean floor. She was now without any oxygen, without a mask, without anything to help her breathe. Mulder held her by the shoulders as she stared at him, frightened. Her blue eyes almost matched the color of the water, and they were still open wide, terrified. Mulder could tell that she was afraid to expel the one great breath she had left in her because then she would have to breathe in again, and there was no oxygen to aid her. If she inhaled, she would inhale lungfuls of the water. Mulder glanced up, and suddenly the surface of the water seemed much farther away than it had moments before. He gestured to her that they should attempt to make it up there anyhow, but she shook her head. Bewildered at her response, Mulder watched as she breathed out, unable to hold her breath any longer. Then she breathed in. Her eyes closed at the assault of the water into her lungs, and then she breathed out again, the bubbles coming out in spurts. She was sputtering for air, from what he could tell, and there was none. In and out she breathed, her eyes opening, more terrified than before. She pointed at her chest and shook her head, indicating that she was not getting any air. Mulder reached for her and wrapped one arm around her, pulling her, kicking his legs, trying to propel himself towards the surface. He was overwhelmed by how heavy he felt, how heavy Scully felt in his grasp. It was as if he were being held down by weights. A quick glance up told him that the surface was a long way up, and a quick glance at Scully told him that she was losing consciousness from lack of oxygen. Her eyes were fluttering from open to closed, and he could feel the rise and fall from her chest that was pressed up against his side; it was getting slower. No! he screamed mentally, attempting to push his way up to the surface again and meeting the same resistance. Scully, hang on, Scully... He was making no headway. The ocean floor still seemed to be right below him. He looked at Scully again, released her and then gripped her by the shoulders, shaking her. Her head lolled back and forth as he did. She made no response that she was aware of him shaking her. He was terrified. A sharp stab of pain went through his chest as he realized that the longer she went without oxygen, the less chance they had of saving her once she was at the surface. *If* he ever made it to the surface. Oh, God, he prayed, please, I can't lose her... ***** Mulder jerked upright in bed, breathing heavily. Sweat was beaded on his brow and he could feel it down his back as well. Why that dream? he wondered. Why didn't I dream about some psycho hurting her or some alien craft taking her? He didn't care. It was terrifying just as it was. Scully jumped up and into a sitting position, turning to face him. "Mulder?" she asked, putting her hand on his shoulder. "What is it?" Mulder clutched at his chest. The pain had diminished from sharp and stabbing to a dull ache. Mulder looked at Scully. Oh, God, he thought. It was just a dream. She's really here. We really did make love. I told her I love her. She's really still here with me. And she was really there. She had the sheet wrapped around her, her shoulders were bare. Her hair was tousled from sleep. Her eyes were looking at him with concern and love. He wanted to speak, but he didn't know what to say. Instead, he pulled her to his still heaving chest and held her there tightly. When he let go, she was searching his eyes. "What was the dream about?" she asked. "It doesn't matter." "It does." "Dana," he murmured, liking the sound of her first name on his lips, "all that matters is that you're here. With me. That I don't lose you. That's all that matters." "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere." "You sure?" he asked. Scully smiled back at him and gave him a light kiss. "I'm in for the long haul, Fox Mulder. Now that I have you, I don't think I am ever going to let you go." Mulder smiled, a broad smile that he didn't think he was capable of. How, he thought, how the hell did I get so lucky? What did I do to deserve her love? "I love you," he said to her. "I love you so much. Do you know that?" "Yes," Scully answered, smiling back. She took him in his arms and he rested his head comfortably on her chest. "I know, Mulder. And I love you, too." END