TITLE:   MORNING BASEMENT FROLIC
AUTHOR:  JACQUIE LAVA & TESS
RATING:  NC-17
CATEGORY:  MSR
CLASSIFICATION:  PWP
Spoilers: None
Disclaimers: This morning they belong to us - we'll return them
after they've, um... satisfied themselves...

Inspired by a series of manipulated pics - you can find the source
of the inspiration at:
http://www.ficsone.hpg.com.br/eroticos/cenaerotica.htm

Summary: He came in late and forgot the latte... Mulder's a doomed
man. Or is he?

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

~ Chapter One ~

She's killing me. Slowly. Purposefully. With great sadistic
enjoyment as well.

She knows exactly what she's doing - knew just how I'd react, as
soon as I saw her this morning.

Today began the same as any other day, I suppose - Scully was as
prompt as always and I was late, as usual. I breezed through the
door at eight-fifteen, not even so much as a latte in my hand to use
as an excuse. I knew we had a briefing, first thing. I knew I'd get
an ass chewing for my tardiness from first Skinner, then most likely
Scully - who would have to think up some sketchy explanation for the
hunk of briefing I'd missed.

I also knew I didn't give a shit. I had my own excuse, ready to go -
should Skinner ask - rather, demand - to know why I'd overslept
again...

"Well, Sir - it's Agent Scully's fault that I overslept - I didn't
get any sleep last night because I personally can't fall into any
sort of deep slumber when I am trying to rest on a hard-on the size
of Alaska..."

I could almost imagine the look on Skinner's face if I made that
sort of confession. And I could certainly imagine the sort of damage
my partner would inflict upon my poor sleep-deprived body, if I did
say it -

Even if it was the honest truth.

Last night Scully and I, to phrase it delicately - necked like horny
teens on their first date. Of course, it wasn't our first - date,
that is. Maybe our fifth, I suppose. Real dates, not just take-out
over at my or her place. We'd been dating for about a month, and it
might seem silly - us dating, after all this time. When I think of
everything we've been through with each other and with the job, I
suppose to call what we are doing 'dating' seems infantile.

But one thing Scully and I have learned over the years is to savor
each moment, however small, as much as we can. Our lives have been
saturated with so much weird shit - a term my partner abhors but that
I secretly get a kick out of saying - that pulling a few episodes of
infantile sounds damn good. So we made a deal, one night - a deal to
date. We've gone to the movies, or out to a game or two - gone out
to dinner. We've left the professional FBI world behind as much as
we can given the field we work with. And after each date we've done
what most dating couples do...

Neck and dry hump on the sofa, in the dark.

Oh, I suppose we could take it to the next level and actually go
"all the way" - but to tell the truth this is actually fun. The
anticipation has been building, along with the size and hardness
quality of my Johnson...

Of course, it was only a matter of time. And as I have already
said, this morning I ran late, which threw me off-balance just
slightly - and I am most likely going to kill my partner for my
current predicament, if the sight of her doesn't kill me first.

When I walked in, Scully was standing in the shadows over by the
file cabinet. I tossed my keys on the desk and sent a "Sorry I'm
late, Scully," over my shoulder. Her low answer, and the husky tone
of her voice, should have clued me in.

"You ought to be, Mulder. You're fifteen minutes late and Skinner
is on his way down." I paused as I hung up my coat, looking up at
her as I replied.

"What, he's upset? Just because I miss a few boring minutes of his -
Oh, Christ..."

For she'd come out of the shadows toward me, and I got the first
good look at what she'd chosen to wear today.

Jesus, Scully...

I was already in hurting status from trying to sleep on major wood
last night; I didn't need this sort of stunning visual. Not with
Skinner on his way down any minute now.

Damn this woman, for having this sort of effect on me... and thank
God she does. Especially when she looks like...

Oh, give me strength.

Her best white blouse; the silky one that's just transparent enough
to be interesting and with enough buttons down the front to be daring
whenever she wants to - and man, does she want to! Underneath, a
black bra. Black push-up bra, no less. Lacy, too. I think that's
when I whimpered, seeing the shadow of that lace-trimmed bra.

Scully smiled the most satisfied feline smile, and strolled toward
me. Cruel, mean angel of a woman... I wanted to put her over my knee
and swat her a few good ones... then soothe the bite of my hand with
my mouth. I controlled my baser impulses just long enough to take in
the rest of her outfit.

God... her little black skirt. Short. Tight.

Kill me now - am I drooling on my tie? I think I am. I think I'm
drooling. Good thing Scully hates this tie; I won't feel so bad
about salivating all over it. I actually had to raise a hand to my
mouth and wipe at it. Scully saw the gesture, and that kitten-smile
of hers got wider. And I just kept staring, taking it all in.

Then my eyes followed the hem of her skirt where it broke at thigh-
level, just as Scully perched on the corner of my desk and crossed
her legs. Oh, my God... the combination of black skirt and glowing
white blouse with that lacy shadow of a bra underneath - all of it
was offset by the black stockings she wore. Real stockings... real
garter belt.

Real ScullyThigh, bare and creamy and very visible.

Jesus Mary Joseph and Fred...

To my knowledge she has never worn stockings underneath her business
suits. Not that I'd ever be able to tell of course - since I'd never
gotten close enough to slip a hand or two up under her skirts, and
find out for myself. More's the pity... I've been severely deprived,
I know that now. More reason to give her the spanking she deserves -

If I survived this day, that is. Right now it's up for serious
debate.

Our boss is due in our office any moment now, according to my sexy
partner, still perched on the edge of the desk and still sporting
bare thigh. Those eyes of hers are just gleaming with the most
unholy mirth... she must think I wouldn't dare try anything, with
Skinner so close to scratching at the door.

Think again, Scully. I'm so goddamned past the point of caring, at
this moment. I have GOT to touch her. A button; I have to release
that second button down on her blouse. If I undo that button I'll be
able to better view the lace of her black bra. I walk toward her,
holding that hot gaze of blue, and I reach out one finger and flick
at the little pearl button, smiling when it slips right out of its
little buttonhole. Mmmm, this must be my lucky day; I step closer,
and then even closer, until I can see the softly curved flesh between
each cup...

And there's a pounding on the door.

Shit.

Fifteen minutes later Skinner is still going strong and I have gone
beyond fidgeting to outright squirming. I am battling massive
irritation because every bit of what he's saying could have been
delivered in a blasted email. I push down the urge to drum my
fingers on my desk and fight even harder the urge to stare at Scully,
who is giving her full attention to Skinner as if his every word is
molten gold. And the moment Skinner rises, finally preparing to
leave us in peace, so to speak - she looks over at me, and winks -
and blows a kiss my way. And everything I own below the waist is
suddenly, instantly tight.

Oh, you're a dead woman, Scully... as soon as our boss is out that
door, I am giving you severe what-for. Suddenly the fun of
anticipation is overruled by the insistent throb between my legs.
And as the door closes behind Skinner and his footsteps echo down the
corridor, I assure the locks are engaged, and I advance toward my
partner, who finds herself pressed up against the edge of my desk. I
can see her eyes widening as I move into her personal space; can feel
the heat coming off her and the shivers that she can't contain as I
slide my hands over her shoulders, underneath the collar of her
blouse.

Neither of us has said a word, yet.

Well, I have no reason to do anything with my mouth that doesn't
involve kissing, licking or sucking; maybe some biting as well... I
can't vouch for Scully's possible vocalizations because my hands have
grasped her hard around the waist and my tongue is buried in her
tonsils, and in one second flat I register the way that this bout of
necking will probably outdo all the previous sessions spent on either
of our sofas.

Besides, we can't afford to be talking, not in our very unsecure
office. And everyone knows actions speak louder than words.

I can't get enough of Scully's mouth and each kiss I give her is
more frenzied than the one before it. Her body presses hard into
mine, fingers busy yanking at my tie. She manages to get it undone
just as I release her mouth and spin her around, suddenly ravenous to
feel her tight little bottom pushing into the Erection From Hell...
She sucks in a gasp at the abruptness of the way I maneuver her;
swallows that gasp into a soundless moan when I lean into the desk
and pull her into the cradle of my thighs, shove both hands into her
loosened blouse and cup her breasts. I bury my mouth into the side
of her neck and she arches into me, breathing out one or two shaky
words.

"Oh, God..."


~ Chapter Two ~

"Oh, God..." Is that my voice? Shaky and hoarse and... oh God! I
had meant to tease him with the short skirt and white see-through
blouse and I'll admit that I had hoped that the peek-a-boo glimpses
of black lacy bra, matching garter belt and sheer, black stockings
were meant to push things past the incredibly pleasurable but
ultimately unsatisfying groping we had been indulging in over the
last month. But at home. His home. My home. Maybe in the car.
Just not... not here. Not in the office.

"Mulder!" There's that shaky, shocked voice again. Who is that?

"Shh." His voice is a bare whisper of sound as he breathes the word
into my ear. "No talking." One of his large hands is still cupping
my breast. He drags his palm across the lacy fabric, scraping over
the hardened nipple beneath. His other hand tangles into a fist in
my hair as he drags my head back against his shoulder. Another
started gasp escapes me only to be swallowed by his mouth moving over
mine and I lean back into him, letting him hold me up, off my own
shaking, trembling legs.

Mulder releases my mouth to trail hot, moist lips over the curve of
my jaw. I shake my head, trying to gather my wits. My hands press
against the strong thighs bracketing my hips and I try to struggle to
my feet.

"Mulder." I whisper into the heated space between us as his mouth
hovers over mine. "We can't... not here. We have to wait."

"No." I blink and am surprised by the fierceness of his voice.

"Tonight," I promise, hoping to pacify him.

"No."

He whips his loosened tie from beneath his collar and drapes it
around me. He crumples the ugly, black and red striped silk in his
fist and once again forces my head against his shoulder. I slap
weakly at his hands but I feel drugged and helpless beneath the
onslaught of his mouth and hands on me.

I never knew.

I'm shocked. Stunned. I didn't know that he could be so aggressive.
That his hands would move so forcefully over me. That I could be
bent to his will or that I would like it.

Love it.

Revel in it.

He pulls me tightly between his legs and I can feel his erection
pushing against the front of his trousers as he rubs himself eagerly
against the tight, black skirt covering me. Mulder curls his hand
around my left leg and he drapes my thigh over his. He settles his
weight against the desk behind him and he widens his stance and I am
opened to him. Vulnerable. Needy. His lips are buried again in the
curve of my neck and I can feel his tongue painting patterns over my
skin. One hand moves to the remaining buttons of my blouse while the
other slides beneath the hem of my skirt. I am torn between watching
him slip each button of my blouse free of its mooring and the
delicate way the fingers of his other hand trace over the edge of my
stocking and lightly play with the elastic strap of the garter. He
splays his hand across my bare midriff and his fingers slip over the
quivering muscles of my belly and thigh, dipping beneath the lacy
edges of my bra, skimming over the dampening fabric of my panties.
Teasing. Testing.

He is aggressive. Demanding. Powerful.

And I am yielding. Submitting. Surrendering. I melt into him and
curl one arm behind his neck, combing my fingers into his dark hair.
And in my surrender, I find power as a long shudder ripples through
his body.

I throw one, frantic glance toward the door, peering through the
dimly lit office to confirm that Mulder had indeed engaged the lock
before returning my gaze to the hands roving restlessly over my body.
I can't believe this is happening. I can't believe I'm allowing
this. Enjoying this. I should stop him. Stop me. This is the most
dangerous place for us to be doing this. It is also my longest held
fantasy coming to life.

My eyes slide closed as his fingers pull down one cup of my bra,
raising my breast to his touch. He presses one finger against the
rigid peak, toying with it. Toying with me.

I turn my head, burying my face in the strong column of his throat.
"Touch me," I plead almost soundlessly. My breath hisses from my
lungs when he presses my flesh between his fingers. Rough. Then
tender. Lifting, squeezing, weighing. A gasp slips from my lips and
his mouth returns to mine. His tongue dives hungrily into my mouth
and curls around mine before retreating. Desperately, my tongue
gives chase, tangling with his, exploring his mouth. I am lost in
the movement of his mouth on mine, of his fingers on my breast.

"Oh God!" The cry is ripped from me and he swallows the sound as
his hand slides into my panties. His palm brushes over the curls
between my legs before he plunges two fingers deep within me.
Another cry builds in my throat and is caught in Mulder's mouth. His
tongue thrusts into my mouth in rhythm with his driving fingers and I
clutch at him with hands buried in his hair and curled around the
hard muscles of his thigh. The tips of my fingers and toes tingle in
anticipation just seconds before my orgasm tears through my body
leaving me shaking and shuddering until I collapse weakly into his
embrace.

Dear God...

I am limp and exhausted as Mulder eases from behind me. His hands
on my hips, he guides me back to lean against the desk. I am dimly
aware of his hands pushing my blouse from my shoulders, unfastening
and skimming my bra straps over my arms. My shoes fall to the floor
with a clatter and I obediently lift my hips, allowing him to remove
my skirt. I feel his breath whisper over me as he slowly, carefully
releases the garters and rolls the sheer, black stockings down my
legs. His fingers dance over the lacy edges of my panties before he
tugs them free. Mulder tears at his own clothes, flinging shirt and
pants and underclothes heedlessly onto the linoleum floor. He steps
between my legs and wraps one strong arm around my waist. Curving
his other arm around my shoulders, he supports my neck as he eases me
onto my back on the top of his desk. He follows me down, covering me
with his larger body and I breathe out a sigh as his bare skin comes
into contact with mine and his weight crushes me into the hard
surface of the desk.

"Okay?" he asks in a whisper. I nod and lower my hand to his hip,
pulling him closer as I lift my head fractionally from the pillow of
his forearm, offering my mouth to his, a soundless whispery begging
finding its way from between my lips.
"Kiss me..."

~ Chapter Three ~

Well, of all the several ways this business day in the Spooky
basement office could have progressed, I sure didn't expect this...
sprawled over my gorgeous partner, the woman I adore - on top of my
desk, no less - naked skins pressed together and about to consummate
the one side of our relationship left hanging for way too long.
Jesus.

Years of working side by side, in all sorts of conditions. I've
seen her naked. Seen her wet and naked, for that matter. Held her
breasts in my hands, in desire as well as in desperate need to save
her life - and never, NEVER have I come apart like this; never have I
risked everything in this way. All the chances we have had; private,
secluded chances in like places. Places to come together tenderly,
roughly, with passion hot enough to shred the skin from our bones -
and where do we end up making it?

Right on top of my fucking desk.

God, I love this office.

Underneath me Scully's body is a miracle of silk and heat and tight,
feminine musculature. My arms protect her as much as possible from
the hard surface of the desk and the assorted files, pens and
whatnot; one wound about her waist, lifting her against me, and one
cushioning her head. Her legs coil around my hips and her feet slide
along the backs of my calves as I press her closer, pull her up and
into my body. Heavy-lidded blue eyes stare hotly into mine and
tapered fingernails scratch over my shoulders and down over my back
to curl into my hips, forcing me down until I am melded to her. I
want to bury myself within her so badly... as badly as I want to
prolong the moment into one endless minute of suspense. I've never
been besieged by a need such as this, in my adult life - and I've
never waited this long to make a woman mine.

But it never mattered this much... and the women were never even
remotely like Dana Scully. Besides, there weren't that many. And I
never loved them - hell, I never understood love itself. Until now.

The silence in our office is absolute, except for the increased
tenor of our breathing. I have so many things I want to say to
Scully, but it's not a good idea to talk. Right now it's more
important to show her; words can come later, in a more secure place,
after the first urgent flush between us has been eased. And if I
whisper the words right into her mouth as I kiss her, I know she'll
taste them on her tongue and let them slip right down, deep inside
where she can hold them and keep them safe.

So I kiss the woman I love; I lock our mouths together and my tongue
slides around hers, taking it slow and easy at first. I am torturing
myself and we both know it. But I love the slowness of it, the long,
hot buildup of need. I take her mouth with kisses just as long and
as hot, letting my lips rub against hers, gently and roughly and then
so, so tenderly. She responds with biting nibbles and a tongue twice
as aggressive as mine...

I do love a woman who knows what she wants.

With each deep kiss our hips push against each other, flesh seeking
flesh. I can feel myself losing what tiny bit of control I have
left, and the words she moans into my mouth causes my entire body to
shudder and clench.

"Mulder, please. I've waited so long, please... inside me, now..."
The breathed 'now' is punctuated with a hungry jab, her center to
mine - and it's all I can manage to stave off my eager ache to be
joined to her. I want to torture my starved body a bit longer, and I
must be out of my mind for doing this to myself. But I've waited a
long time, as well - and I'm just not ready to give it up. My hoarse
reply is uttered into the middle of yet another deep and wet kiss.

"Not yet, baby... wanna make this last, for both of us, God you feel
amazing..." The rest of my mumbling is swallowed up in the scorch of
her, as I move my mouth across her cheek and trail my tongue along
her arched neck, down over her fragile collarbone until I can reach
her breast. I rest my hot face against its rounded softness,
struggling to keep myself from just spearing into her. I turn my
cheek and cover her breast with my mouth, another deep kiss between
her sweet nipple and my hungry lips. Her gasp of breath vibrates
against my mouth and tremors wrack her small frame...

~ Chapter Four ~

"Mulder, please. I've waited so long, please... inside me, now..."
I lift my hips sharply into his, urging him to come into me. His
kiss is deep and wet and now it's his voice that's shaky in his
reply.

"Not yet, baby... wanna make this last, for both of us, God you feel
amazing..."

I suspect that he is paying me back for earlier. Perhaps blowing him
a kiss from across the room while we were meeting with Skinner was a
little over the top, but compared to this torture it was nothing.
Now he's just being mean.

I want him now. Here in this office. On top of this desk. I don't
care that Skinner might very well come back to follow up on our
meeting. I don't care if someone is listening in. I don't care that
this could ruin us professionally. I care about one thing and one
thing only. Joining my body with this man's... this man whom I
love.

I want him inside of me. I want to feel the slide of his body into
mine. I want that little moment of shock when my body yields and
adjusts to the invasion of his. I drum my feet against the desktop
in frustrated fury. Teasing bastard.

'Inside me. Inside me now,' I chant silently. I slide my hands over
his muscled back, curving them around his hips, pulling him closer,
determined to have my way. Being submissive was all well and good a
few minutes ago, but now...

'Inside me. Inside me now!' I think again. Nothing else will do...

...Uh...hmmm. Okay... this is actually pretty nice. It's not
exactly what I had in mind but still... Mulder draws my nipple
between his lips and now I am inside of him...

I gasp and tremble and I can feel his mouth curve against the
fullest part of my breast in response. My back arches again, this
time bringing my breast closer to his mouth. I close my eyes and my
head rolls to one side as he engulfs me with his arms around me, his
body over me, his lips covering me. Teeth scraping my tender flesh,
tongue lapping with eagerness, lips moistly sucking... he is feasting
on me. Devouring me. With lips and teeth and tongue; with whispered
words and soft moans; with caressing hands and pressing body he marks
me as belonging to him as surely as the tattoo on my back once
declared my freedom from him. A foolish symbol - futile really -
because I knew then as I know now that I am his just as he is mine.

I curl the fingers of one hand around his cheek and guide his mouth
to my other breast, much neglected and in equal need of his
attentions. Mulder turns his face into my hand and runs his tongue
over the lifeline running through my palm before his lips surround
the tip of my breast.

'I love you...' I don't hear the words but they reverberate through
the delicate skin covering my breast and spear into my heart, into my
brain, into my belly, into my loins. The need for him is building
again, higher and hotter than before.

I rake my fingers through his hair, tugging lightly to gain his
attention.

"Now, Mulder. Please... now." He lifts his head from my breast. His
lips are damp and swollen, delectable... I want them. I cup his
smoothly shaven jaw between my hands, pulling him down to cover my
mouth with his. Delicious - Jesus, I can't wait any longer. My
voice is a mere thread of need in the scarce air between us but I
know he can feel my demand.

"No more waiting," I breathe against his lips. I close my eyes and
sigh with relief when he murmurs in agreement. His hips shift
against mine and I lock my ankles around his waist. My eyes flutter
open as his penis brushes against me, silky and hard all at the same
time. God... I use my feet against his buttocks to urge him forward.
Inward. He slides into me, just the tiniest bit - and I am
breathless with anticipation. I tilt my hips upward and he is
pushing in and I am yielding.

And then he is inside of me. Finally inside of me. Buried deep.
Stretching me and filling all of the empty places in me. I fling my
arms over my head, straining across the desk, fingers searching for
something to grasp onto; I have a feeling I am going to need a
handhold...

Thinking in those terms, I can't help it. A huge smile blooms
across my face and I laugh. Filled - heart, body, mind and soul by
my lover, I gaze into those hazel eyes and see the reflection of my
adoration shining right back at me -

"I love you," I whisper in joyful abandon. "Mulder, love you so
much..."


~ Chapter Five ~


Could there be anything more fantastic in the world or universe,
than to be inside the woman you worship and have her say she feels
the same? If there is, then I haven't discovered it yet. As far as
I am concerned the world could end tomorrow and I will have
experienced just about everything necessary in life to make it
worthwhile. However, I know just how quickly I'm going to become
addicted to the feel of her... and I want this feeling every day, for
the rest of our lives.
So I'd like to live a few more days, years - with her. Eternity...
that might just be enough time, to love Dana Scully.

I brace myself on my hands and lock my arms at either side of her,
rising up from the cushion of those lovely breasts. My own chest
mourns the loss but I have to watch Scully's face as I make love to
her. This very important first time, I can afford to sacrifice the
full-body contact, for the view down there is breathtaking...

Red hair splayed out over the surface of my desk. Rosy cheeks
blushing up at me, filling me with such delight. I have seen Scully
blush. It's the prettiest sight to see, the way the rose-peach tint
steals across her cheeks. A sunrise, right there on her face... and
I get to witness it anew, now.

It takes my breath away, this level of beauty.

From the waist down my body is clothed in skin softer than the
petals of that same rose that colors her blush, tightly clinging to
me and holding me closer than close. The feel of her is not to be
believed. Certainly I can't quite believe it's happening, even
though we both knew this would occur sooner or later. These last
weeks have been one long tease leading up to this moment and I would
not have changed a minute of that sweet buildup. I just know that
this was exactly the right time to complete our dance - maybe the
place is a bit off but who the hell cares about that?

Not me... all I care about in the world is cradling me between two
of the loveliest thighs on earth and blue eyes made in Heaven are
smiling up at me as we move together, thrust against each other. The
rhythm is slow and deep and rich with hunger; every inch of me
tingles, from the ends of my hair to the very tips of my toes. The
smile I send down to Scully in response to her happy grin is becoming
a fight for enough control to last a few minutes more, thrust a
little harder, mark her a little deeper as belonging to me.
Possessive? Hell, yeah. Mark her soul... that's what I want to do.

I want to mark her soul and claim it for my own - the way she has
etched her name on mine. A marked man...

Oh yeah. I can live with that. I stare into her dark blue eyes and
almost inaudibly rasp out a few syllables, harsh with emotion and
edged in urgency.

"Scully... you feel so... oh, baby, I adore you..."

And through her smile I see tears well up and slip from the corners
of her eyes, blue orbs drowning in those tears. She nods and her
lips tremble, pearly white teeth now biting on her lower lip to keep
the sob within her throat. Oh, Scully... I don't want to make you
cry, even if the emotion behind it happens to be joy. Even as my
thrusts intensify within her clinging heat I am shaking my head and
whispering to her, not to cry. And she nods weakly in response as
another teary smile breaks over her face.

"Mulder... it just feels so good... you just feel... so good. And I
love it, love you..."


~ Chapter Six ~

He's so beautiful - he takes my breath away. Tears are still
leaking from the corners of my eyes and he leans down to kiss them
away. His mouth follows the tracks of the tears, fluttering over my
wet eyelashes and sipping a path down my temple. Mulder pushes up
again and for a moment, the sight of him looming above me is
mesmerizing. One sweaty lock of hair falls over his forehead. His
eyes stare down into mine but there is a blurred quality to them as
pleasure floods through him. A faint sheen of sweat glistens over
his body, highlighting the tendons standing out in his neck,
burnishing his chest and shoulders in a golden hue. His muscled arms
flex as he holds himself above me. He moves in and out of my body in
a slow, measured pace.

My gaze slides down his body, to the quivering muscles of his
abdomen and mine, then lower still to the place where we are joined.
I am captivated by the sight of the dark hair between his legs as it
tangles with my own coppery curls and a low sigh of breath escapes my
lips at the sight of his glistening penis as he retreats then buries
himself in me over and over again.

He is beautiful. WE are beautiful.

I lower my legs and brace the soles of my feet on the cool wood of
the desk. I push up hard and lift my hips completely off the desk.
Mulder's eyes widen and he gasps out my name as the new angle allows
him to slide even deeper into me than before. And as I rise to meet
each thrust of his body, one thought races through my head. Forever.
I want to be with him like this - forever. I want to love him -
forever. I want shield him when he hurts. Exult with him when he is
happy. Forever. I want to guard his back, stand by his side, wind
myself into his arms - forever.

I am lost in dreamy thoughts of eternity with this man; lost in the
liquid slide of our bodies; lost in the beauty of his face and the
love shining in his eyes. Suddenly - rudely - I am snatched from my
reverie of love and longing and I am overwhelmed by a sensation of
loss when he slips free of my body.

"Mul-!" My words are cut off mid-wail as he scrambles onto his knees
between my thighs. Before I can process what is happening, he wraps
his hands around my legs, drawing them up his chest and settling my
heels onto his shoulders. I am staggered. Shocked. I've never...
No man has ever... not like this. My head snaps up from the desk and
my hands shoot out - to ward him off? Pull him closer? One part of
my brain is scandalized... agitated. Reluctantly aroused. Lust
curls in my stomach when he leans forward, pushing one of my knees
toward my chest - and then he is there. Brushing against me.
Pressing. Pushing. Invading. I grab onto his leg with one hand and
my fingers dig into the hard muscles of his thigh. My other hand
grapples across the desk for purchase and winds up snarled in my own
hair. His hips flex and he pulls back. Then with one, fierce
thrust, he sinks into me.

Oh my God. In this position, I am so tight... I can feel him.
Every inch. Every ridge. Every twitch and tremble. Ohhhh. It's
almost as if I can feel the beating of his heart...


~ Chapter Seven ~

My heart feels as if it's going to pound its way right out of my
chest and I can't catch my breath. Maybe I'm dying...

No, actually I've never felt more alive.

I have never tried this position before; guess I always figured it
wouldn't accomplish as much for a woman as it would, for me.
Wrong... I can tell by the look on Scully's face that she is as
overwhelmed as I am - at the way this feels. I took her by surprise,
that's a given - and for a moment I thought she was going to push me
away. But she's gasping; she's pulling at my thigh, trying to get me
closer... now her breath is hitching in her throat the same way mine
seems to be doing...

There is no way in Hell this can last nearly as long as I want it to.

I can't reach her mouth but at the moment I don't think either of us
cares all that much; all that matters is the connection between us
and the intense rebuilding of what promises to be one hell of a
climax. In this position I am completely buried within her and my
thrusts are faster, even harder than before. With her legs pushed up
against my chest Scully can do little more than just let me take her,
unable to move very much at all. I manage to keep my eyes focused on
her beautiful face as I rush toward orgasm, unable to stop it,
desperate to assure she gets there with me. I hold on tightly to her
legs, keeping her locked in place, and with my last coherent breath I
groan out a soft plea.

"Baby... Jesus, I'm so close... are you - can you -" I break off
with a shudder, and Scully struggles to answer me.

"Almost... there, oh God, Mulder..." Her voice is a mere thread of
sound but I can hear it. I shake the wet hair out of my eyes and
clamp down on my control, to hold it in, just a few more seconds...
and I find myself begging her.

"Scully... come on. Touch yourself... I wanna see you do it, just
do it... do it." I adjust my grip on her legs and angle in a little
higher; at the same time Scully untangles her hand from her hair and
brings her fingers between our bodies. I look down with feverish
eyes to see her rubbing small and slender digits against her clit,
and the sight of her hand stroking at herself is just so goddamn
erotic - the most erotic thing I have ever seen. It sends me over,
hard. Every inch of me clenches; every muscle tightens as I swell
and my climax swamps me. A mere second later her orgasm rips through
both of us, tagging itself onto the end of mine and destroying me
anew...

It's not until we have come off from that unbelievable combined
explosion that I realize we have both climaxed in mind-blowing tandem
- without uttering a single sound. When I look down at Scully I see
her entire fist crammed in her mouth, head thrown back and hair
streaming over the edge of the desk. What a way to gag herself, and
how utterly gorgeous she looks...

When I look at my hands, still holding her legs, I start to laugh
weakly, leaning my head on her knee. Scully summons enough strength
to question my sanity.

"Mulder... God. That was... why is your hand bleeding?" I shake my
head, still laughing, and I release her legs very carefully, allowing
them to slide down to either side of my hips. I lean over and kiss
her damp lips tenderly, answering her query between nibbling kisses.

"I seem... to have bitten my... hand... during the 'Coming-my-brains-
out' phase of our tryst, baby..." A tiny snicker, then a giggle,
from my satiated partner.

"Oh, good Lord, Mulder..."


~ Epilogue ~

I slide from the desk on wobbly legs. Mulder's hands are on my
hips, holding me up. Or maybe, he's bracing himself...

Probably both.

He looks over my shoulder and the expression on his face has me
turning to see what has captured his attention. His desk is in
shambles. Files and papers are strewn across the smooth wood - some
crushed, some crumpled or torn. Others litter the floor around the
desk. Mulder's coffee mug - thankfully empty - has toppled over.
His nameplate is perilously close to falling to the floor. I quickly
look away. I can feel the heat of the blush that I know is staining
my cheeks. I can't even meet his eyes. The things I said... the
things we did. I wonder what he's thinking, but I'm terrified at the
very thought of asking.

I slip around him, desperate to put a little distance between the
desk and myself; between Mulder and me. I see my clothes lying in an
untidy pile on the floor and I move toward them.

"Don't..." His voice is soft. I chance a glance upward and I see
two high spots of color on his cheeks. His eyes catch mine and dart
quickly away. I cross my arms over my breasts and shake my head at
the silliness of trying to hide from him now. Mulder releases a
shaky sigh and closes the short distance between us.

"Don't," he says again. He lays one hand on my arm and tugs lightly
and I let my arms fall to my side. "Don't hide from me. Don't hide
from us." When I finally look at him - really look at him - I can
see that he's dealing with the same emotions that I am. Shyness...
Shock. Fear. But beneath it all is elation. Delight... Joy.

Love.

I lean forward and wrap my arms around his waist, hugging him
tightly. This hasn't changed. He's still Mulder. My partner. My
best friend. And now, finally, my lover. My lips curve with the
thought. My lover.

Smiling, I look up and brush my lips softly over his in a kiss that
tells him everything is okay. With one last tender squeeze his arms
drop from my waist and I'm free to bend down and scoop up my clothes.
I shimmy the tight, black skirt over my hips and struggle to fasten
the tiny hook in the back. I look up to find Mulder leaning against
his desk, clad only in a pair of pants. His arms are crossed over
his chest and strong bare feet peek out from beneath the cuffed legs.
A smile curls at one corner of his mouth as he stares at me.

Oh, my...

That body just made incredible love to me. That mouth trailed hot
kisses over just about every inch of my trembling flesh and those
eyes burned hazel fire into my soul, every step of the way...

This man should be deemed illegal in at least twenty-five of the
fifty states... and no one should look that good in just a
pair of pants and a smile. And he's mine... God.

Mine.

He's watching me dress with great interest. The look in his eyes is
considering and faintly predatory. I snatch up my bra and quickly
pull the straps over my arms and he pushes away from the desk and
moves toward me. I finish hooking the bra and he holds out my blouse
as though it were a coat so that I can shrug my arms into the
sleeves. Mulder turns me to face him and he runs the backs of his
knuckles down my throat and over the tops of my breasts where they
swell above the lace cups of my bra before he pulls the edges of my
blouse closed. He works on each tiny pearl button, leaving all but
the top one fastened and then he changes his mind and slips two more
buttons free of their buttonholes.

"I liked the little show you put on earlier," he admits and he
presses his lips to my brow. "I liked it a lot."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Someday, someone with more curiosity than sense is going to ask me
where Scully and I first made love. Well, they'll probably use a
harsher word for it; maybe just come right out and ask us where we
had our first fuck. It'll most likely be a man; men are crass about
these things, and that's the truth. Men enjoy being crass about sex;
some more often than others. And if I am in an exceptionally
benevolent mood, rife with happiness and more content than a cud-
chewing buffalo... I'll only wound him enough to make him sob, rather
than wring his neck hard enough to flatten his Adam's apple against
the back of his throat.

I am sure there are a thousand places in and around DC - including
our respective apartments - where we could have done the horizontal
bop in seclusion, able to moan and groan and cry and scream our fool
heads off at all the right moments. I know we could have found a
more comfortable platform on which to join our starved bodies; soft-
yet-firm Sealy Posturepedic mattresses come to mind, covered with
crisp cotton sheets and framed in fat pillows that I could use to
prop my woman against as I position her in exactly the best way to
make her button pop...

In fact, that very bed is sitting in my apartment, sadly neglected
and hungry for somebody to do more than sleep in it. And I have no
doubt that we will be feeding it lots of action from this day
forward. But today, this amazing, surprising day - the best place in
the world to express our feelings was on my old, battered and
cluttered desk.

I lean against that desk right now, legs still shaky from the
results of loving Scully - and I watch her blush and struggle into
her clothes. I know that blush on those peach-soft cheeks of hers
probably matches the heat on my face. I don't blush, ever. I can't
remember the last time I did. And today I'm not embarrassed. I'm
not even that shy. I think I'm just overwhelmed by the way my needs
became her needs and together we 'needed' the hell out of my office
desk... it was the absolute hottest experience of my life.

So far.

I have no intention of sharing the reminiscing of it with anyone but
Scully - preferably when we're both gray on the head and long in the
tooth and the biggest thrill of my day will be the pinch I give her
sexy, elderly ass when nobody's watching us, in the nursing home.

Do I know it'll happen just that way? Oh, you'd better believe it.
This woman is mine. From this day forward, as I have already
mentioned.

"Mine." I whisper it so softly I don't think Scully hears me, as I
push away from the desk and advance on her; as I help her pull on
that pretty white blouse and concentrate on buttoning all her buttons
- well, all but those top three. I murmur to her softly that I like
the way those open buttons gave me a little show, earlier... and she
looks up at me and lets that sunrise smile of hers break over her
still-pink cheeks.

Kissing those hot little spots of color - snuggling my own warm face
in her neck while she curls her arms around my shoulders and bends up
into me, pressing her silky blouse against my bare chest - holding
her very, very close. Each of these small and special moments are
going to see me through the rest of this damned long day. We'll
neaten up this destroyed office; looks like a sex-cyclone tore
through it. God, some people can be so messy...

In a few hours one of us will go out and dig up some lunch, then
we'll spend more of the afternoon trying to make some sort of sense
out of our latest case. I'll catch Scully's eyes once in a while and
we'll smile at each other. Smiles are silent things... but they
scream so loudly, to the heart - so very loudly.

Eventually the day will be over, and for once we won't work
overtime. For once, we'll lock it up early, walk to the elevator
together and stand inside quietly, maybe a tad closer to each other
than we would normally stand. No one looking at us would ever know
what naughty delights we found on my desk... as long as they don't
look too closely and try analyzing the satisfaction buried deep
within our glowing eyes.

All of this will come to pass as the day unfolds, but for now - I
snuggle the woman I love a bit longer and plant a series of tender
kisses all along one cheek, side of neck and shoulder. I slide my
hands over her back in soothing patterns, feeling her mimic my
actions against my bare skin. One more tight hug and she steps
back - and reaches for the shirt I threw on the floor - and as I
performedfor her, she holds my shirt out for me to shrug into.
She buttons some of me and I button the rest. I find my shoes and
she sees my socks hidden behind the wastebasket. In no time at all
I am dressed very properly, right down to my goofy tie. I comb
careless fingers through my hair and in mere seconds I am
respectable-looking again. I am neat as a pin. I am Agent
Fox Mulder.

I am a man utterly in love with Agent Dana Scully...

Life doesn't get any better than this... or does it?

"Mulder... mmm. You look good enough to eat..." Scully's throaty
rasp is a soft hum in the air, barely audible - I don't hear her
words as much as I feel them. I close my eyes as I stretch my arms
above my head like some drowsy satisfied lion with rumpled fur...
only to snap them open again, and look down in first confusion and
then in growing inner fire, as I behold Scully drop very gracefully
to her knees in front of me, and reach for my just-zipped zipper.

Damn it all. And me at middle-aged forty - I didn't know I had it
in me, until Scully found all sorts of ways to bring it out, all over
again.

Something tells me I won't be eating out for lunch, today... well,
food is so overrated, anyway. I cup her fiery hair and let loose a
soft, very heartfelt groan.

Life just got truly, excellently good... again.

End