TITLE:        MULDER'S MIND

AUTHOR:       DONNILEE

E-MAIL:       Donnilee@snet.net

WEBSITE:      http://donnilee.tripod.com

CATEGORY:     MSR

RATING:       NC-17

SPOILERS:     FTF, The End, tiny ones here and there.  Nothing
              blatant.

SUMMARY:      Scully contemplates the maze of Mulder's mind.

DEDICATION:   I'd like to dedicate this one to all the readers of
              fanfic out there.  Without you, where would we
              author's be?  Nowhere, that's where.  I cannot fully
              express my thanks for the continuing support and
              encouragement that you give me every day to continue
              doing this.  I find it cathartic as I vicariously
              live out my fantasies through these two wonderful
              characters.  Hopefully, along the way, I provide you
              with a few minutes of entertainment as well.  God
              Bless you.

THANKS:       To Sdani, my wonderful beta reader, who takes time
              out of her busy life to pore over my verses and let
              me know when I've turned left instead of right.  Love
              you, babe.  Cyber hugs and kisses.



PART 1 (PG-13)
Dana Scully's Journal
January 4, 2002

My partner calls me complicated.  I don't hold a candle to him.
There are many facets to his personality.  I've spent the better
part of seven years walking down the vast labyrinth of hallways in
his mind.  I've decided that he has many personalities.  This is
not to say that he has multiple personalities, merely many aspects
to his personality.  Somehow they blend into a cohesive whole that
is Fox Mulder.  Unique.  Brilliant.  Kooky.  Humorous.  Self-
deprecating.  Arrogant.

He is by turns bold and then shy.  He is sometimes confident, then
unsure.  He is passionate one moment and cold the next.  I guess
mercurial is the correct word.  His moods can change at the drop of
a hat.  One phrase can send him plummeting in a different
direction.

His brain is like a computer with its photographic memory.  On the
other hand, it can make wild leaps of logic and faith that defy
reason and somehow lead to a pertinent end.

I struggle to keep up.  I admit it.  At first, I wished only to
prove that there were no such things as extreme possibilities, only
science we did not yet understand.  The years of partnership with
Fox Mulder have taught me different.  There are many things in the
universe I do not understand and, I shudder to say, things that
science will never grasp; not in my lifetime anyway.

So I have learned to trust my instincts rather than bury them.  I
have learned to embrace the unusual and go with the flow sometimes.
I still cling to my science whenever possible.  It grounds me like
nothing else can.  But in embracing the unusual, I embraced my
partner.  Not literally but figuratively, although sometimes I have
wanted very literally to embrace him.  Only in times of trauma and
deep emotional pain have I found the courage to reach out
physically.

Fox Mulder has seduced me.   I don't really know how that happened.
It was a gradual and insidious thing that crept in under my radar
when I wasn't looking.  It would be easy to point to the obvious
things and say that his sexy good looks were the culprit.  It would
be easy to say that his Oxford education or sympathy with the
plight of a lost sister was to blame.  But that would be too easy.
Although all those things are germane, they are not the cause of
the trouble.

It's his ethereal qualities that have wrapped around me like
gossamer wings and gently tugged me into his world, making me a
part of that world.  I cannot escape now.  We are so intertwined
that I know that I could not go on with out him.  Perhaps I could,
but happiness would be an elusive thing without Mulder in my life.

And he does make me happy.  I must credit him at least partially
with the woman that I am today.  He stretches my boundaries, makes
me work hard for my beliefs, and challenges me every step of the
way.  He makes me look at myself and strive to correct the flaws
that I see and don't like about myself.  I still have lots of work
to do, but there have been a lot of improvements as well.

I've lost my idealism, but not my hope.  I've lost some motivations
but gained others.  As time went by, I realized that I was enamored
of my partner.  Late night gab sessions turned into breakfast at
5:00 AM, we both having lost all track of time.  There is always
something to talk about.

It's the strangest thing.  With everyone that I have ever known,
there were always times when I would run out of things to say or
things to talk about.  This is not the case with Mulder.  We always
find something to talk about.  This is not to say that we don't
enjoy the companionable silence now and again after a long day or
evening of working together.  Those silences are often more telling
than the conversations.

Mulder guards his emotions as closely as I do only he chooses a
different way.  I guard mine with stoicism, he guards his with
humor and innuendo.  But in that humor, he reveals himself; his
insecurities, his wishes.

I lost count of the number of times I wished I had the courage to
throw his innuendo back at him or call his bluff.  I wonder what he
would do.  I know Mulder cares for me.  I know, in fact, that he
loves me.  What I don't know is if he is IN LOVE with me.

Therein lies the problem.  I'm in love with him.  I know that now.
It took me forever to admit it and still I tremble every time I
contemplate it for very long.  I want more from my partner, but I
haven't a clue how to go about asking for it.  That may sound silly
to some, but our relationship is so complicated, just like we are.

When I'm alone, I have time to think and I always seem to be unable
to stop the flow of memories.  The ones that repeat themselves like
a slide show behind my eyelids are the moments when he touched me.

Unaware of his effect on my physiology, he would blithely exercise
his tactile nature and send me into a emotional tailspin.

When I'm expecting the touch, the effect isn't the same.  His hand
on the small of my back is a normal thing now.  I anticipate it, I
look forward to it and I find it comforting.  It keeps a connection
between us, a courtesy and acknowledgment that is intangible.

It is the times when he touches me unaware, when I don't expect the
feel of his hand on my shoulder, or his fingers tucking an errant
strand of hair behind my ear.  I will try to suppress the shiver
the warmth of his hands or fingers cause.  I am not always
successful.

Those times when a shiver has escaped, his eyes have lit with
amusement.  They haven't been condescending or arrogant, just
amused.  I have no idea what goes through his mind, or what he
makes of my reactions.  Perhaps he chalks them up to biology or me
being surprised.

The truth is that his touch can turn my blood to fire.  His smile
can make my heart flutter.  His pain can bring my stomach into my
throat.  Such is our connection that I cannot separate his pain or
his joy from mine.

My head tells me that making a move for my partner would be a very
bad idea.  My heart tells another story.  The heart wants what the
heart wants.  There have been close calls, times when the line was
so blurry I teetered on the edge of it, ready and willing to take
that step.

However, something always prevented it.  I told myself at the time
that it wasn't right, that it didn't happen because it wasn't
supposed to.

I know that's a lie.

The most evident incident I remember again and again is standing in
his hallway, having announced that I was leaving.  His face was a
mask of pain as he spilled his feelings onto the floor at my feet,
telling me after five long years just what I meant to him.

Then he touched me.  I was helpless to resist the pull of those
changeable eyes that drew me to him.  I wanted that touch.  I
cannot deny it now.  A bee stung me and my whole world was ripped
out from underneath me.  But the look on his face haunts me still,
two years later.

I don't know about him, but I have reached a critical mass.
Something must change for the better or the worse, but something
must change.  I can no longer trudge along with the status quo.  I
can no longer pretend that I am content with the way things are.

Perhaps all the near death experiences for both him and me have
made me reassess my priorities.  Things that were of paramount
importance five years ago seem trivial today.  As I grow older and
my knowledge of the world around me changes, so does the truth
change for me.

We are always seeking truth but the truth changes.

The truth has changed for me.

Five years ago, partnership was enough.

Three years go, friendship and partnership was enough.

One year ago, our blossoming affection was enough.

Today, none of it is enough.  I want it all.

Now I just have to figure out how to get it.


XXXXXXXXXX

DANA SCULLY'S APARTMENT
GEORGETOWN, D.C.
January 4, 2002

I start when a knock sounds on the door.  I rise from the computer
and press my eye to the peephole.  It is the subject of my thoughts
standing there looking furtive.  I open the door and he glides
inside, stopping to turn and look at me as I relock the door.

"Hey, Scully.  Is this a bad time?"

"No, come in.  I just need to shut my computer down."

He nods and takes off his jacket, hanging it on the coat tree near
the door.  He strides to the couch and plops down, his forearms
resting on his thighs.

I block his view of the computer screen, hit save and close it
down.

"Want something to drink?"

"Ice tea?"

"Coming up."

I retreat to the kitchen and wonder if this is fate lending a
helping hand.  Here I am contemplating the state of our relation-
ship and he comes striding to my door.  I swallow against the
bubble of nervousness in my gut.  I haven't even done anything and
I'm nervous.  I am resolved though.  I need to do something.  I
just didn't think it would be tonight.

I return to the living room and hand him his glass and sit next to
him on the couch, close but not touching.

He sits back, stretching out his jean clad legs and draping his arm
over the back of the sofa, the other holding his glass.

"So what brings you here on a Friday night?" I ask casually.

He sighs, looks at me, then away and takes another sip of his ice
tea.  "I'm not sure.  I was going to bring a file, but ..."

"But?"

"I don't know.  I wanted to see you."

I smile softly.  "You don't need an excuse to come see me, Mulder."

He turns his head to me and looks down at my face, smiling in
return, looking slightly embarrassed.  "I guess I know that but I
somehow think that I do."

I set my glass on the coffee table and turn to him.  "Well you
don't."

He leans forward and sets his down too.  "I just didn't want to be
alone tonight," he admits.  "Not yet, anyway."

I nod and lay my arm over the back of the sofa along his.  He
stares at it for a moment and then moves his hand to meet mine.
His fingers slide over the back of my hand and I shiver, splaying
my fingers out.

His fingers slide down falling in between mine.  He pauses and then
lifts, gripping my fingers slightly between his, lacing our fingers
together.  I look at his face and there is an expression of
tenderness that nearly takes my breath away.

"Your hands are so tiny," he says quietly.

We grin at each other but then our smiles fade.  He flexes his
fingers but then laces them snugly together with mine. God, we're
holding hands.  It's silly but the connection seems so sweet.

"Was there something on your mind, Mulder?"

"Not really."

"Or did you want to watch a movie?"

He shakes his head in the negative.  "I've been thinking."

"Uh oh," I tease.

He smiles, his thumb beginning a light swipe up and down the
outside of mine.  "We're friends, Scully," he states simply.

"Of course we are."

He nods.  "I know that but what I don't know is ..."

"Is what?" I prompt, when he hesitates.

His gaze meets mine and he asks, "Are we anything else?"

Here's my chance, I think.  "Could you be more specific?"

He smiles then as if he knew I would require more information.
"Are we ... confidantes?"

"Yes," I answer.

"Are we ... God, I don't know how to ask this."

"Just ask," I say plainly, holding his eyes with my own.

I see questions come and go behind the changing color of his eyes.
"Scully, what do you see when you look at me?"

"I see a lot of things."

"Like what?"

"I see a noble man filled with passion.  I see a brilliant man that
challenges me and my beliefs and makes me think hard."

He looks at our hands again, his sliding out of my fingers and up
to lightly grasp my wrist.  He turns my arm over and his thumb
grazes the soft skin on the inside of my wrist and I gasp at the
zing of electricity that shoots up my arm, leaving a trail of
warmth in its wake.

The atmosphere is lazy, slow, almost surreal as we sit there moving
in slow motion, not uncomfortable with the fits and starts of
conversation.  He looks at me again.  "What else?"

'Did his voice just drop an octave or is it my imagination?' I
think.  "I see my best friend, my confidante, my partner, a man in
pain sometimes, a man ... with many facets."

He nods.  "Does that make me interesting or just complicated?" he
asks with a teasing note in his voice.

"Both," is the honest answer I give him.

"What about physically?"

Now our eyes clash as they meet.  I hold his for a moment but then
let my gaze wander down over his neck, his well-defined pectorals,
the muscles showing through the snug tee shirt, the firm legs
encased in soft, worn denim.  They travel back up flicking over his
crotch.  I swear I saw something move there and I jerk my eyes up
his chest to his eyes again.

He's watching me carefully.  "I see a very attractive man."

"You do?"

I laugh suddenly at the silliness of this whole thing.  "Don't even
tell me you don't know how good looking you are, Mulder.  I won't
believe it."

I watch him as his face changes to an expression of incredulity.
"You've got to be kidding," he says finally.

I smile and feel heat rise up my neck.  It stops shy of my face and
I take a deep breath.  'It's a golden opportunity.  Can I do it?'
I ask myself.  Can I tell him the honest to goodness one hundred
percent truth?

I raise my eyes to his and swallow, gathering my courage.  My mouth
suddenly feels like the Sahara and I reach for my iced tea and gulp
down half the glass.  I set it down again.  Our other hands are
still touching, his fingers encircling my wrist, his thumb doing
wicked things to the soft skin there.

"No, I'm not kidding, Mulder.  You really don't know?"

"No.  Tell me," he requests, his voice never rising above barely
audible.  His eyes are riveted on my face.

"You're in very good shape, Mulder."

He smiles but doesn't say anything, silently encouraging me.

I swallow again, licking my lips and notice his eyes are on them.
I lick them again just to see what happens and watch him suck in a
tiny gasp.  "Tell me," he encourages again.

I look at his face again.  "You have beautiful, thick hair,
unbelievably beautiful eyes that change color and ..."

He looks surprised again.  "And?" he asks, his voice almost a
croak, it's so low.

"And your mouth ..." I begin, sucking in my own tiny gasp as I try
to still my racing heart.  God, why is this so hard?  This could
be it and I'm stuttering like an idiot.

He leans toward me, not invading my space, but tipping his head to
see mine better.  "Scully?"

I yell at myself inside my head, 'Just do it!'

"I love your mouth," I whisper.

He gasps this time.  I risk a glance at him and he is still staring
at me, having gone very still.

I clear my throat.  "In short, Mulder, you're an incredibly sexy
man, physically and ... otherwise."

"Whoa," he mutters.

I smile at my lap, amused by his one word response and afraid to
look at him.  Suddenly I feel his fingers under my chin, gently
coaxing my head up.  "Mulder ..."

"Look at me, Scully."

With effort, I do raise my eyes, keeping my head down a bit.  His
mouth is parted slightly, his breathing shallow.  His eyelids look
heavy and hooded.  He licks his lips and I swallow a little hum
that wants to emerge from my throat.

He says, "I think the same things about you."

I lift my head fully and hold his gaze now.  "What are we doing,
Mulder?"

"I don't know."  He pauses.  "You think I'm sexy?" he blurts out as
if the realization just struck him.

I laugh out loud and nod.  He laughs with me and then slides down
the couch until he is as close as he can get without me moving my
legs.  His hands cup my head, his fingers tunneling into my hair.

My heart starts to pound furiously against its ribbed prison.  I
feel panic grip me for a second but then he speaks, "Scully."

That's all, just 'Scully'.  The way he says it is like a prayer, a
benediction.  I feel goose flesh rise up on my arms and reach up to
perch my fingers on his biceps.  "Mulder, I've been thinking ..." I
begin.

He chuckles now and I realize I've repeated his words from earlier.
He grins and says, "Uh, oh," imitating mine.

"I know I'm not like other women you've had in your life."

"Thank God," he whispers.

I continue as if I didn't hear him.  If I stop, I'll lose my
courage.  Just having his hands on me is robbing me of the ability
to think straight.  "But do you ever look at me and...want to touch
me?"

"Of course; I'm touching you right now," he states the obvious.

"Let me put it another way," I say and gasp as his thumbs run over
my lips.

"What way?" he asks in a whisper, leaning in close, his nose
bumping mine.  "This way?"

I blurt out, "God, just kiss me, Mulder."

He moans and leans in, laying his mouth over mine gently.  His
tongue comes out to lick my lips, wetting them and I shudder at the
contact and the heat.  He hums and pushes his tongue inside my
mouth, exploring gently, his tongue teasing mine.

I whimper and he deepens the kiss, his hands sliding down to cup my
waist as he leans over me, pushing me backwards to lie down on the
couch.  He lies on his side next to me, panting gently.

"God, Scully," he mutters.

I smile tremulously, unsure whether this is going any further.
"What?" I ask when he hesitates.

"Is this all right?"  He brushes my lips with his thumb again.

"Yes," I breathe out on sigh.

He smiles and I feel my heart constrict in my chest.   "This is
unreal," he says as he leans in again and kisses me, this time with
mounting passion.

One elbow holds his weight.  The other arm bands around my waist
and hauls me up against him onto my own side.  We are now belly to
belly and he breaks the kiss, panting gently into my face.  His
eyes travel over my face and he says, "Can I do it again?"

I chuckle and nod my head.

He smiles and leans in again, sucking my bottom lip into his mouth
and then invading my mouth with his tongue again.  I feel my
nipples harden and push them against his chest.

He moans and insinuates a leg between my thighs.  His hand wanders
down and cups my rear end, his mouth never leaving mine as he turns
this way and that, exploring my mouth from every angle.

He pulls me toward him again, his hand on my butt.  My juncture
slides up his denim clad leg and settles against the top of his
thigh.  He flexes his hips, pressing his erection into my stomach
and I grunt softly.  "God, Scully," he mutters.

"Whew," I whisper.

He smiles and says, "We better back up a little bit."

I nod, but neither of us moves.  He's smiling at me, a rare sight
indeed, and I can't help the answering smile that graces my face.

His hand flexes on my butt cheek and I smile wider.  "What are you
thinking, G-man?"

Most men hate that question.  But Mulder seems to seriously ponder
it.  Then he says, "I'm thinking about how unbelievably good it
feels to lay here with you and hold you against me.  I'm thinking
that I can't believe I just kissed you for real."

"For real?"

He nods, not elaborating.  "All I can think is I want to do it
again, but ..."

"But?"

"If I do, I'll want ... more."  His smile has faded now and he's
looking at me with an eagle eye.  The question is implicit in the
way he said that he would want more.  His eyes are asking me,
'Would you give me more?'

"Oh Christ," I mutter.

He takes a deep breath and leans back away from me.  Cool air
rushes in between our bodies and I immediately miss his heat.  As
if of their accord, my arms slide around his waist and pull him
back to me.  I lay my head sideways against his chest.  His hand
comes up to cup the back of my head.  I feel his heart beating
rapidly against my cheek.

His free hand swipes up and down my back in a smoothing arc and I
relax against him.  Finally he asks, "What do you want, Scully?"

"What do you want?" I answer his question with a question.

He leans back and plucks my chin up with two fingers to look into
my face.  "You know what I want."

I swallow.  "Do I?"

The corners of his mouth twitch.  "Are you being coy or do you
really not know?"

"I'm not sure.  I guess I don't want to make a mistake here.  So
much rides on this, Mulder.  Everything we have, everything we are
could be destroyed if we do this wrong."

He nods, looking serious, understanding my sentiment.  "I think
it's worth it," he says quietly and locks his gaze with mine again.

His fingers leave my chin and travel lightly over my jaw and up to
my temple, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear.  I shiver in
response and it brings a instant smile to his lips.  His thumb
smoothes over my eyebrow, my cheek bone and finally back to my
swollen lips.  "You're right," he says finally.

"About what part?" I ask.

He leans further away, our lower bodies staying tangled, his leg
between mine still.  "We need to make sure we are on the same
page," he replies.

"Don't think I don't want this, Mulder," I begin, "but I'm scared."

He nods.  "Me too.  But I've been waiting for a sign from you for
so long."

"A sign?"

"That you wanted more from me.  I can't hide it anymore or lie to
you, Scully.  I want more.  I've wanted more for a long time.  You
know how I feel about you."

"How's that?"

He looks sharply at me, gauging whether or not I'm being facetious.
He must decide that I really don't know.  After a deep breath he
says, "I'm in love with you, Scully.  I've told you that before,
but you weren't really listening."

I gasp softly, shocked at hearing those words, even though I
suspected, maybe even knew in my heart.  "Mulder," I whisper,
unsure what to say.

He continues as if I didn't say his name.  "I want to make love to
you, Scully.  I want to be everything to you.  I want to be your
boyfriend, your mate, whatever it is they call it nowadays.  I want
to be the only man in your life."

He stares down between us, maybe at where our legs tangle together,
I don't know.  "You are the only man in my life, Mulder.  You've
been the only man for a long, long time."

He lifts his eyes to mine again and licks his lips.  "I can't do
this half way, Scully.  It's an all or nothing deal.  I don't want
to risk losing what we have either.  And we could stop now and
chalk these events up to stupidity."

I frowned.  "That's not what I want," I say truthfully.

His eyes wander over my face again.  "It's not what I want either."

"Then we are on the same page, it seems."

"Maybe.  It's easy to become aroused and lose your perspective."

"Is that what you think happened here?" I ask a little indignantly.

He smiles softly.  "I just want to make sure that you don't do
anything you'll regret tomorrow.  I couldn't take your regret,
Scully.  If we take this step, and lord knows I want to, then there
is no turning around and going back to the way things used to be.
It will be you and me, forever.  Because I know that if I make love
to you, I won't be able to let go.  I'm not even sure I could now."

I shivered internally at the sincerity and openness in his voice.
His eyes were wide with hope and longing, and a little fear too.  I
could see the fear.  I felt it myself.

But his eyes seemed to draw me in.  "So what do we do now?" I
asked.

"Well, you take whatever time you need.  But you need to make a
decision.  And I'll abide by that decision, whatever it is."

His head falls back and he cups my head to his chest again.  I
snuggle into him, marveling at how safe I feel wrapped up in him
like this.  It isn't long before his hand begins to wander, up and
down my back, cupping my buttocks.  He moans softly.  "Scully, I
have to move if I'm going to keep a handle on this."

"A handle on this?" I ask, not quite sure what he meant.

He goes still and his hands raise to cradle my face as he stares
at me.  "I have never ... wanted a woman ... as much as I want
you."  He pauses.  "I've never felt desire like this, Scully.  It's
on the inside, deep down, and has very little to do with my dick."

I chuff a breath out in amusement at his choice of words, but I am
touched beyond belief at what he was saying.  This isn't about sex.
This is about acknowledging what we were to each other.  We are
each other's touchstone.  We are each other's anchors.  We keep
each other sane and I know in my heart that there is never going to
be another man for me.  No one will ever measure up to my partner.

He continues, "However, my dick is doing a little happy dance cause
he's pressed up against your soft belly.  And if he stays there,
I'm not going to be able to control my desire.  I need to sit up."

His attempt at humor falls a little flat.  But as I feel him
sliding his leg out from between mine, I clamp my thighs together,
stopping him.  He goes still again, looking at me and waiting for
my decision. Reason and logic are taking a hike for the hills and
instinct is taking control.

I press myself against him from groin to chest and he moans.  My
hands grab his neck and pull him down to me, covering his mouth
with mine and pushing my tongue against his teeth.  He seems
startled for a second but then recovers quickly.  His mouth opens
and his tongue joins mine in a duel for supremacy.  It is contest
where there is no loser.

Fire sweeps through my veins and I feel my entire body melt against
him, becoming soft in preparation for accepting him inside.  I moan
into his mouth and he tightens his grip, deepening the kiss.

I've had other lovers in the past.  But frankly, sex has never been
a fantastic experience for me, more of an obligation to keep the
relationship going.  A primal instinct that has lain dormant for
many years is rising up inside me.  I surrender to his assault on
my senses.  No matter how much my common sense tells me it is
dangerous, the woman in me tells me that nothing has ever felt this
right.

The woman in me yearns to know true passion, something I am sure
I've never really experienced.  And instinct tells me that this is
the one man who can give me that experience.



PART 2 (NC-17)
DANA SCULLY'S APARTMENT
GEORGETOWN, D.C.


Feeling her soft body undulate against me nearly sends me spinning
to the edge of my control.  Need rolls through me like a tidal wave
as I crush my rock hard erection against her tender belly.
Excitement grows like a bubble inside me, ready to burst. I am
kissing Scully and by the looks and feel of things, she is going to
invite me into her bed.

My heart is racing out of control.  I am so excited now.  What will
it be like when I feel her skin against mine, with no clothes for a
barrier?  I shudder at the very idea of it.

I reluctantly pull my mouth from hers and panted, nearly choking
when I hear her little mewl of protest.  "Scully,...bedroom.  Don't
want ... first time to be ... on your couch."

She nods and we awkwardly disengage.  She hops up and holds out her
hand.  I heave my weight off the couch and stand on unsteady legs.
She leads me to the bedroom without a word.

We are still for all of two seconds and then our hands are
grappling with clothing, yanking and pulling to get ourselves free
of the encumbering clothes.  When she slips her bra off and lets it
tumble to the floor, I gasp at the sight of her perfect breasts.
They thrust into the air as if offering themselves.  Her nipples
are turgid, little points of desire and I actually feel my mouth
water with the desire to suckle on her.

I rip my boxers off and sigh as my burning cock bounces in the cool
air.  I am rigid beyond belief.  I can't ever remember being this
hard.

She reaches out and tugs my hand and we tumble onto the bed in a
tangle of arms and legs.  She lands on top and kisses her way down
my body, fondling my cock and balls with her hands until I squirm
under her.  I roll her onto her back, pinning her hands beside her
head with our fingers laced together.  I breathe slowly to regain
control.

Then I dip down and take her pellet-hard nipple into my mouth,
laving it with my tongue and feeling it harden even further.  She
moans, "Mmuullddeerr," as I suckle and I can't think of a sweeter
sound than hearing Scully moan my name.


XXXXXXXXX

We both groan at the feeling of skin on skin.  After exploring him,
he suddenly rolls me underneath him.  I can feel him, hard and
urgent against my belly.  He shifts his hips and his hardness
landed at my juncture.  He swivels his hips, rolling over my clit
and I feel a bolt of desire race through me, my body flushing from
head to toe with a hot flash.

He reaches down and swirls his fingers in my folds, testing my
readiness.  I groan.  He pants,  "I wanted to go slow."

I shake my head.  "Next time," I mutter.

His head descends and he begins placing open-mouthed kisses on my
neck, suckling my pulse above my collarbone.  I feel my womb
contract in response as he places the wide head of his cock against
my swollen labia.

He groans, "Oh God, Scully.  Now?"

"Now," I whisper, that being all I can manage.


XXXXXXXXXX

"Now," her sultry voice floats into my ear.  I lose the last shred
of my control and mount her quickly, attempting to bury myself in a
single thrust.  She shrieks and her whole body tenses underneath
me.   Her body is like a tight, wet glove.

"Holy shit, Scully," I mutter, leashing my desire with a concerted
effort.  "You're tighter than a fist, baby.  Relax, I'm sorry," I
sputter as I grit my teeth to keep from ramming myself all the way
into her.

Her body softly ripples over my aching cock as she stretches to
accommodate me.  I'm trembling with the effort to hold myself still
and find myself muttering, "Please baby, take all of me, all of me,
please take all of me.  Oh fuck, you feel so good."

I watch her, her eyes wide, her cheeks flushed as he she blows
little puffs of air out of her mouth.  I feel her relax and she
wiggles her hips slightly and I sink in another inch.  We both
groan and I whisper, "Oh God, Scully, relax baby.  Just a little
more and you'll have all of me."

I can't believe this.  She is so small.  I knew she was small and I
knew she hadn't had sex in a while, but I hadn't expected her to be
literally unable to take all of me.

My hips press hers down.  I feel huge as I hover over her tiny
frame, my weight on my elbows.  Another few seconds, a deep breath
from her and I felt her go boneless beneath me, her legs spreading
wide, her knees lifting slightly and I slowly sink the rest of the
way in, her wetness easing my path.  I bottom out against her
cervix, feeling it quiver as it stretches against the sensitive
head of my cock.

I am so hard I could come right now if I let go of my grip on my
desire.  I didn't want to hurt her.  But the urge to drive into her
was rolling through me again.

She moans and whispers, "Move now, Mulder.  Oh God, I've never been
this full."

We begin moaning together as I ease in and out at as slow of a pace
as I can manage considering the height of my desire.  Against my
will, the speed and strength of my thrusts increase until I am
slamming into her, her ass bouncing slightly on the mattress.  I
slide a hand under her, cupping her ass and holding her body
against me, increasing the contact of my stomach against her soft
skin, trying to roll her clit between us with every stroke.

She begins whimpering, "Owwwhhhooaaa, Owwwwhhhooaaa, Owwwhoooaaaa,"
each time I slam into her sliding my stomach over her pubic bone.
The sound cranks my arousal into the red zone.

Her hands reach down and grip my taut buttocks and pull me deeper
into her as she bends and changes the angle of my penetration.

"Oh yeah, baby!" I shout.  Belatedly I wonder if she will kill me
later for calling her 'Baby'.  The sensations burn hotter and
brighter as I bite my tongue to hang on for a few more seconds.

Her voice is wavering with pleasure as she says, "Muld..., Mulder!
What's ... oh shit, it's happening!  Oh God, what you do to me!"

I feel her core muscles begin to grip and release me like an iron
fist.  She shrieks, "Ohhhhh, Myyyyyyy, Gggooooodddddd!  Oh Jesus!
Oh sweet heaven!  Ahh, Mulder!  Gooodddd!"

My consciousness dims and I feel my cock tingle and sperm gather in
my balls, coiling like a snake as I watch and feel her vibrate
beneath me with the force of her orgasm.  I holler, "Oh fuck,
Ssscccuuullllyyy! Oh, love you, love you, love you,"  as I release
into her with hard, jerking thrusts, feeling my sperm burn with the
force of my ejaculations.   It seems endless as I float on a tide
of unbelievable pleasure.

She is crying out still, "Ahh, Ahh, Ahh," as we tremble to a stop,
sweaty and quivering.  I kiss her gently, our lips clumsy and
swollen as we try to maintain contact while our pulses begin to
slow down.

I feel my chest squeeze unbearably as I look down and see her eyes
closed, tears leaking out of the corners to run in rivulets down
her temples and into her hair.

"Oh God, Scully.  I'm so sorry, baby.  Did I hurt you?  Was I too
rough?"

She shakes her head.  "That's ..." she clears her throat.  "That's
never happened ... to me before."

I know my eyes get big as saucers as hers open and fix on my face,
a trembling smile on her lips.  "What?"  I swallow and try again.
"What do you mean?  What's never happened to you before?"

She turns her head away from me and I watch as a blush covers her
neck and face, her arm covering her eyes in embarrassment.  My
softening cock is still twitching inside her and I watch as she
sucks in a gasp as I give a particularly active twitch.  "Scully,"
I ask softly.

She finally turns to me and says, "I don't know how to describe
it."


XXXXXXXXXX

"I don't know how to describe it," I say truthfully.

I have literally never experienced sex so intense and overwhelming
in my life.  I literally lost touch with reality.  I find myself
babbling, wanting him to know how he made me feel.  "I thought I'd
come before ... I mean, I guess I have ... from touching myself but
never like that.  It was just little ... tremors or something.  No
one else has ever made me come, just by my own hand.  My God,
Mulder, all I knew was ... you, you inside me, filling me ... making
me feel things I never felt before.  The rest of the world didn't
exist ... it's never been like that.  Now I wonder ... Christ, I
wonder if I've ever really had a real orgasm before."

Mulder coughs, nearly choking on his saliva in astonishment.  He
didn't say anything.  He merely leans in and begins to kiss me with
urgency, slow and deep kisses that say how he feels better than any
words.  Then he says the words anyway.  "I love you so much,
Scully.  My God, nothing could turn me on more than hearing you say
that."

I smile.  "I feel stupid, a little silly.  I am a doctor, for
crying out loud!"

He chuckles, "Didn't the men you've been with before ever know how
to make love to you?"

"What men?" I deadpanned.  "You just erased them all from my mind."

He laughs then, sounding giddy and lays his mouth over mine again.
He finally breaks the kiss.  "You're an amazing woman."

I tousle his hair with my hands, just enjoying the fact that I can
touch him.  He hisses and I moan softly as he slips out of me.  "I
was afraid I wouldn't ... be enough."

"What on earth are you talking about?" he asks as he rolls off of
me and pulls me into his side.

"You're so brilliant and passionate.  I struggle to keep up
sometimes.  Then there are the women I've known from your past.
They were usually tall brunettes with big boobs.  And they were...
sensual women.  I didn't think I could be that for you.  It's just
not who I am."

He looks down at me, shaking his head with amusement.  "When you
said you weren't like the other women in my life and I said,
'Thank God,' I meant it.  Those women were...just...bad decisions
on my road to you, that's all.  I wouldn't want you to be like
them Scully.  And you are one of the most passionate women I've
ever known.  I'm sorry no one's ever brought that out in the
bedroom for you before."

"But you have so many facets...you're abstract...you're sexual...
you're complicated."

"You make me sound schizophrenic!"

We laugh together at that. "I mean ..."

"Scully, the last thing I would want is for you to remind me of the
women of my past.  They were nothing but heartache for me.  I'm
glad you are nothing like them.  That's probably part of what makes
me so attracted to you.  I knew those women were wrong for me, but...
I was lonely and I made some bad decisions."

I nod against his chest.  "Your head is like a maze sometimes, and
I've wanted to get inside it."

He chuckles and says, "The Mind of Mulder, eh?  It's a scary place
to be, Scully."

I kiss his chest and let him feel my lips smile against his skin.
"I love them."

"All my minds?" he jokes.

"All your facets, every last one of them.  And I want to know them
all ... intimately."

"You're even braver than I thought," he says dryly.

We smile and I lift my head for another kiss.  Before we drift off
he says, "I love you, Scully."

"I love you too, Mulder," I say, realizing I haven't really said it
to him yet.

He sucks in his breath and I look at him, nodding in affirmation.
He smiles and pulls me into a fierce hug.

We drift off to sleep and I dream of walking inside Mulder's head,
making discoveries at every turn.  Even in my dream I think,
'there's never a dull moment in Mulder's mind.'

THE END.