THE REALIZATION DANCE	
By Jacquie LaVa
MSR, Rated R/NC-17
No spoilers, takes place mid-partnership

Summary:  'True love can strike when you're not looking; can sizzle
through you, implode your heart, set your teeth on edge and your hair
on end, fry your brain, boil your blood...'  


"The Realization Dance"


It's the smile that knocks him sideways, makes his eyes focus,
perhaps really focus, on her.  Her smile.  Nothing held back.  A full-
blown, teeth-exposing, 'damn-you're-gorgeous' smile, and aimed
straight at him.  When she adds the corresponding laugh - not a
chuckle, but a laugh - he's speechless.

Why has he never truly seen her, before now?

They've been each other's best friend, confidante, protector - for
several years.  They've gone through more together than any other two
people in the history of man should have to endure.  There is genuine
love between them; dedication, loyalty.  Abounding trust.  They are
strong, for each other.  Strong, because of one another... yet one
smile weakens him - one laugh tilts his world.

All he did was tell her a joke, and a bad one, at that.  Ten seconds
after the telling of it and five seconds after witnessing her
reaction to it, Mulder can't even remember the punch line. It drained
out of his cranium the moment she showed him a side of herself that
he knows he has never seen.  Not like this.

Just a night in the middle of the week.  Nothing special happening,
he just felt like going over and when he called her to see what she
was doing she was just as bored as he; told him to stop on by.  They
hadn't seen each other much during the day; each had more or less
gone their separate ways for a change - but that wasn't why he went
to her place.  They both had nothing better to do, no laundry to
catch up on or obligatory long-distance family calls to make. 
Neither was particularly hungry and TV didn't sound appealing at
all... so they got together at her apartment and sat on the sofa a
cushion-width apart, talking.  Just talking... and he remembered an
inane joke he'd gotten in an email and he shared it with her.  Just a
stupid joke that at this moment he cannot remember.

Mulder knows he's staring but he can't help it.  Never in his years
of knowing his partner has she looked like this.  He doesn't have any
idea who this woman is, because she sure isn't Dana Scully.

In the muted evening her face is luminous, flushed with pink, bright
and open.  Her eyes sparkle with a blue so dazzling it's almost
unreal.  Even her skin seems to shimmer.  And in that instant he sees
the beauty of her, all of it.  One hundred percent of it, where in
the past she has only revealed a bit here and a smidge there.

The look on his face must be something to see, because Scully's
smile dims a little, and her laugh breaks off as she reaches out a
hand to him and offers a concerned, "Mulder, are you all right?"

<No.  I'm not all right.  I may never be all right, again.>  Because
at the touch of her hand he realizes in one mad flash, that he wants
her.  Wants to kiss her smile, swallow her laugh... merge with her
body and mate with her soul.  He thinks he must have always wanted
her, from day one.  How could he not?  And more than the wanting of
her, he also acknowledges that for the first time in his life he's
fallen, truly fallen... in love.

It's said that true love can strike when you're not looking; can
sizzle through you, implode your heart, set your teeth on edge and
your hair on end, fry your brain, boil your blood.  In the split
second it connects, love simultaneously builds you up higher than the
highest mountain and levels you flat, as it knocks you sideways...
and he's already been there, was there the second she smiled. 
Laughed.

Falling in love... he wasn't expecting it.  Isn't sure what to do
about it, how to tell her, show her... wonders if she'd even care to
know.

She loves him; of that Mulder has no doubt.  But, in love?  Wanting
him?  All of him?

"Mulder?"

His eyes clear and refocus, and see the worry in her stare.  No, not
now, not worry... that's not what he wants from her.  Not her
concern, not her bedside manner.  Not the hand to his forehead,
gauging his perspiration content, the quality of unsettlement in his
stomach or the possibility of incubating a cold or flu.  He doesn't
want her compassionate touch.

He wants her nails to curl into his skin and leave little crescent-
shaped moons behind.  Wants her teeth on his neck, her body clamped
all around him, her skin soldering itself to his.  He wants to groan
into her ear all of what he's feeling, as he stares at her and
clenches his hands into fists to keep from grabbing her.  This is
what he wants.

"Mulder!  You're beginning to scare me!  What IS it?"

He sucks in a quick, fortifying breath.  "It's... I just... you..." 
He's stammering, and she's looking at him as if he's lost his
marbles.  He never stammers.  If there is one fairly consistent trait
of Fox Mulder, it's that he sounds confident even when he's not.  But
any confidence he might have had just flew away and roosted
elsewhere; he feels like a teenager again, a gangly boy with sweaty
palms who wants so much to ask the prettiest girl to dance and is so
afraid she'll laugh in his face.  

Well, that's not strictly true... he's afraid he'll open his mouth,
insert his foot and while he's mumbling through his sock she'll kick
his ass out of her apartment and change her locks the next day.  

Agent Mulder, Heartthrob Central.

Right...

He knows he has to say something to her.  He also knows that for
once in his wise-cracking life, he can't fob it off with a deflecting
remark.  It's too late for that.  He doubts he could ever pull it
off.  And he doesn't want to... he wants to see that smile again,
hear that laugh... so he can absorb it into himself, as he kisses
those rosy lips of hers.

Taking a deep breath, Milder scoots a little closer on the sofa and
takes one of her hands.  Before her eyes can begin to widen at the
gesture, he's speaking in a firm - albeit rushed - tone, "I was just
thinking I'd like to see you smile like that, laugh that way - all
the time. And I was wishing I could always be the one to put that
smile on your face and that laugh in your voice."  He links their
fingers; hers have grown a little chilled; they actually tremble a
bit.  When he looks into her eyes he sees they have become a shade
glassy.

Mulder offers a small grin. Scoots a bit closer still, and adds, "I
wish I could find the words, to tell you... what you mean to me. 
More than being a friend and a partner, Scully - a lot more than
that.  I was also wishing that I... could kiss you."

Her jaw drops a few inches, and now those baby blues of hers have
filled with a brightness too wet to be anything less than tears.  She
swallows a few times.  So does he.  And before he can change his
mind, before she can move away and break the moment, Mulder raises
his free hand to her cheek, cups her chin, thumb brushing over her
bottom lip.  It also trembles, just a little... and that tremble
tells him everything he needs to know.  Leaning forward, Mulder
touches his mouth to Scully's for the very first time.

Their lips cling cautiously, shyly - hesitantly.  He doesn't want to
lose sight of her so he keeps his eyes open, seeing the exact moment
hers closes and the tears gathering under each lid squeeze out and
slip down her cheeks.  Some of them dampen the corner of his mouth
and it's the salt of that wet emotion that causes his eyes to flutter
shut and his senses to absorb everything beyond simple sight...

The sweet taste of her lips, just a trace of lipstick still evident.
Something fruity, like pears with an underlying darker flavor.  He
imagines the inside of her mouth will have that more potent bouquet.

The ultra-soft feel of her cheek under his palm; those small bones
and delicate angles.  The mole that clings to her upper lip - the one
she's always trying to hide from the world - is under the pad of his
thumb.  It feels like velvet.

The sound of accelerated breathing; when he slips his other hand
around her waist and brings her closer, those quick breaths vibrate
against the cotton of his shirt, against his chest.    

The touch of her fingers on his shoulders, the flexing of rounded
nails on his biceps.  She probably doesn't realize it, but she's
kneading him like a cat.  It's the most erotic thing he's ever felt.

All of this and more, pouring into Mulder as he holds the woman he's
found himself in love with; as he touches her, kisses her.  So much
more he can barely begin to comprehend.  An entire world, exotic and
different from the one he usually inhabits... and all from one single
first kiss; from the touch of lips.

He pulls away, reluctantly.  Giving them both a moment to regroup
seems like a good idea, and he wants to see into her eyes, to assure
himself this is what she wants.  When he looks at her she's smiling,
flushed a little, those glorious blue eyes of hers still a little
damp.  That smile...

"There it is."  He doesn't realize he's spoken aloud until he
notices the puzzlement on her face.  Now it's his turn to flush, as
he hastily adds, "The smile, Scully.  I like it.  I want more of it."
His arms wrap around her waist and he tugs her close, pressing his
cheek to her hair, murmuring in her ear.  "I'd like to do it again. 
Kiss you, again."  He eases away, looks into her eyes, "But only if
it's something you want, as well.  Guess I should be asking if you
do.  If you're okay with this.  I know how I feel; now I want to hear
your thoughts.  I'm asking you to think about... us."

Scully is silent and still in his arms, her hands now resting
lightly on his shoulders.  Holding his gaze, her own soft and open,
yet a little unsure, she takes one deep breath, before she speaks. 
"Am I okay with it?  Have I thought of this, between us?  Of course I
have, Mulder.  I wouldn't be a normal, functioning woman if I'd never
looked your way and wondered what it would be like to touch you, kiss
you.  What it would be like to be... yours."  Her voice drops to a
whisper, "What it would be like to have you belong to me."

"God, Scully."  His arms tighten when her soft words register. 
She's saying everything he hoped she'd say.  He buries his face in
her hair and lets the relief wash over him, loving the way her hands
slide up over his shoulders and clasp around his neck. She wants the
same things he wants; she wants him.  She's willing to try this, see
where it takes them.  She's open to building on the love he knows
they already have between them.  

And if she found herself in love with him, the way he's fallen for
her... he couldn't ask for more in this or any other life.

For long minutes they hold each other close, bodies melded together.
Her head fits under his chin as if it's been fashioned for just that
spot, and her arms are just the right length to wrap around his neck.
The silence between them is a little edgy, but that's a good thing. 
There are butterflies fluttering in anticipatory sensation, but
that's one of the side benefits of those first stages of a more
romantic relationship.  It may seem a bit incongruous when the sum
total of their years together are taken into consideration.  It's
also a part of love that should never be rushed through.

Mulder's very glad they're not rushing, even though his body is more
than ready to push it.  They need this.  They need the romance.

"Scully, do you mind if I tell you that I've been thinking about
this for a very long time?"  His lips are warm against her ear; he
punctuates his question with one nipping kiss on her lobe, and smiles
at the shudder he feels under his mouth.

Her reply is breathed into the hollow of his throat.  "Not if you
don't mind that I've thought about you, the same way, and for
probably just as long."  She snuggles closer and he shifts her until
she's more or less sitting in his lap.

"What d'you think we should do about it?"  He strives to remain
fairly casual.  He's sure she sees right through him.

"I think we should take it as it comes, Mulder.  We've been best
friends for years.  We've loved each other for a long time, too.  I'm
willing to make this work, if you are.  I'm in no hurry.  What about
you?"  Her face tilts up to his, her gaze locks on his.

She's already given him so much more than he'd imagined; with her
simple affirmation of her own feelings she's offered him the world. 
If nothing more came of it, Mulder thinks he could die a happy man,
knowing this woman loved him as more than a partner or friend.  Of
course he wants more.  He wants it all, he can't help it.  But he can
pace himself to whatever she decides; if that's better for her.   

"I want the same thing as you.  I can take it slowly; see where it
leads."  The words are true but how they cost him to say them... and
it's a war that must really show on his face, for Scully shakes her
head and cups his jaw in her hands; pulls him closer.

Against his mouth she chastises, "Oh, Mulder.  You'd do that for me,
wouldn't you?  Luckily for you I want so much more.  I want it all. 
I can't wait.  I've already waited so long..."  

This time she's the one who deepens the kiss. When his mouth
responds with sudden ardor her lips part for him and her tongue
touches his... and another world hovers within reach and both of them
take hold of it.  The kiss lengthens, grows in passion, in need.  So
much need, dizzying and intoxicating in its power.  Her body shifts
as they kiss, and now she's fully facing him, straddling his lap. 
His hands slide down to her hips and he presses her against him,
torturing himself.  A soft moan filters through the kisses that are
gaining in heat and strength; he has no idea if he made the sound, or
if she did.  It doesn't matter; they'll share it.

They'll share everything.

He doesn't even question whether it's too soon.  Doesn't contemplate
pulling back, suggesting they wait a little, ease into this new phase
of their relationship.  All he comprehends, cares about, is that
Scully sees, as he does, the necessity of a new phase.  She wants it.
She's actively pursuing it, and he didn't even have to talk her into
it... as if he could; she's so much her own woman.  Now she's about
to become his woman.

Thank you, God... 

In a corner of his fogged-up brain, he thinks they need to find a
bed.  Their first time should really be in a bed.  But Scully's sofa
is comfortable, made of soft fabric wrapped around fat cushions. 
It's wide and long, the kind of sofa you can really sink into.  He
doesn't want to gain his feet and separate himself from her for those
necessary few yards to her bedroom. Besides, they've spent some great
times together on this sofa over the years.  True, the fun centered
around talking.  It's about time that talk turned to action... and
where better than on a piece of furniture he's suddenly grown overly
fond of?

Not to mention she's holding him so tightly that he'd have to pry
her loose with a crowbar, if he had one handy.

Without words to clutter, actions scream aloud as they continue to
kiss, to touch and caress; to sigh with desire.  Her mouth is a
miracle of responsiveness and her body leaves him in no doubt as to
what she's feeling for him.  He slips his hands up underneath her
clothes to stroke her back; she purrs.  The heat builds between them
slowly and hotly as the need for skin to skin contact overrides any
residual modesty.  

Now there are sweaters and shirts to dispose of, jeans to unzip and
shoes to tug off.  They take turns unwrapping each other, pausing
between their mutual unveiling to admire, to run curious fingertips
around skin gone shivery with need.  She's pale and perfect, baby-
soft yet firm.  Her arms are graceful, her shoulders delicate and her
ribcage rises and falls with each erratic breath she takes as she
reacts to the way his palms trace over her upper body.  A white lace
bra flutters to the carpet as Mulder removes that final layer of
modesty, and Dana Scully is now clothed in nothing but a flush and
his hands.

"Oh..."  The small word breathes out in a puff on his shoulder, as
he folds her against his body, inside his unbuttoned shirt.  His
chest hair tickles between them; his lips graze her forehead as she
turns her face into his neck and nuzzles there.  The feel of her bare
breasts alongside his skin is maddening and her fingers are slipping
up and down his back, adding heat and electricity to his sensitized
flesh.  Mulder's heart pounds furiously and hers echoes the beat; he
twines a hand through her hair and meets her lips in one hard,
starved gulp.  It never occurs to him that he might be rushing along
too fast; it never crosses her mind that she might be better served
by slowing down and savoring each moment.  Perhaps the second - or
tenth - time they make love, they might savor.

Right now they just want to devour.

With one sharp tug, Scully pulls him over as she leans back, and
Mulder finds himself pressing her down into the soft cushions,
meeting her devilish smile with one of his own, that grin fading a
little as he takes in the sight before him.

God, she's beautiful...  red hair fanning out in a silky mass around
her head, rounded breasts tipped with pale rose begging for his
attention.  Heavy-lidded eyes, so blue, staring into his; lips
trembling just a bit, still smiling.  He's never seen anything as
lovely and he knows he never will, for as long as he lives.  His gaze
flickers over her and finds beauty everywhere he looks.  His hands
follow his eyes and he watches her lids flutter and fall; hears her
soft moan, feels the way she trembles.  For him.

"You're breathtaking."  The words burst from him in a barely
recognizable rasp, his voice thick with emotion and clogged with
lust.  Mulder watches with fascination as what he says sends wild
pink into her cheeks, her neck. She shakes her head in denial but he
won't let her sell herself short, not for a single moment.  

Mulder considers himself a very lucky man... he voices it aloud in
another thick rasp, and Scully cups his face, brushes his full bottom
lip with a tender thumb.  "I think I'm the lucky one, Mulder.  I
would have let this spin out for a long time, feeling this way and
never doing anything about it.  Never allowing myself to gamble that
you'd reciprocate.  Maybe we're zipping along a little quickly but
we've waited so long, already.  It seems as though we've been waiting
forever, doesn't it?"

"Yes.  It feels that way for me too, Scully.  Definitely waiting for
you, but I just didn't know how deep it went, not until a few minutes
ago.  And everything clicked into place, all at once.  I don't want
to waste another minute."  He whispers the last few words into her
open mouth and feels them echoed back against his tongue.

"Not another minute..."

Small and capable hands accomplish the rest of his disrobing and
pull off his jeans, socks and shorts.  Scully shreds them from his
body without relinquishing her position beneath him; it's an
impressive display of dexterity, he thinks.  In just a few seconds
the remainder of his clothing is heaped next to the sofa and he's
naked and pulsing between her thighs, up against her damp heat.  
Their eyes lock and their breaths mingle in a long, nipping kiss that
sends tongues battling for dominance.  Deep.  Wet.  Hot... 

"Jesus!"  He all but gasps it as her mouth bites at his.  He fights
the urge to close his eyes and let this rush over his senses.  He
wants to watch her as she kisses him.  Nobody has ever kissed him
like this, as if he was a banquet laid out for their pleasure.   He
can't remember the last time a woman laid with him and was generous
with herself, gave of herself so completely.  He thinks maybe there
never was one; that whatever they provided him was a watery and
impossibly pale imitation of the real thing, of what love can be when
it's given the right way.  Mulder tunnels his fingers through her
bright hair and offers the love right back to her.  

Deeper. Wetter.  Hotter.

When his swollen mouth slips over her throat and down to her breast,
fastening on the tight rosy nipple, Scully purrs again and one hand
holds him there, asking him without words to linger for as long as he
wants to.  Luckily for both of them, he chooses to linger a long
time.  He spends endless moments at her breast, lavishing it with
eager lips and a tender tongue, his lower body rocking against her
soft center.  Each compulsive movement brings him a little closer,
makes him almost slide right in... until he realizes he's poised and
ready to delve, when he'd intended to take a lot more time learning
her, loving her, giving to her.  

He pulls himself back carefully, earning a hazy and confused,
"Mulder... where are you... ohhh..."  A second small huff of
acknowledgment expels into the air as he kisses his way down over her
stomach and discovers for himself another sweet pair of lips needing
his attention.  Against his tongue she's salty, creamy, slippery,
sensuous as hell.  Delicious... and all his.  Her flesh melts into
his mouth, her hips move in tandem with her soft moans, and both
hands are now fisted in his hair.  He can feel her wild trembles, the
shudders she can't hold back, the building of release in her body. 
He wants to feel that orgasm with his mouth instead of his penis,
this very first time.

When she moves away he almost growls in reaction to losing what he
wants the most, until her hands urge him up and over her again, until
her mouth whispers brokenly in his ear, "In me first, it's important,
Mulder, please... inside me."

God, she's so right.  Their first climax needs to be mingled
together, it's vital, they need it so much, just like that... and he
slips into her, deep, wet, hot.  Filling each other to the very brim,
they are meant to fit together marvelously well.  Perfect.  They
groan it to each other, as they find rhythm and movement, as they
make magic happen.

"Perfect..."

***********************

Someday he'll think back on this very moment and tell himself that
but for a smile that knocked him sideways, he might never have known
what loving Dana Scully would be all about.  How her eyes would tear
as she approached her climax; how she'd leave ten little nail-shaped
crescents on his shoulders.  How his hands would weave into her hair
and the way those silky curls would wrap themselves around his
fingers in the same manner as her love wound into his heart.  The
moist caress of her breath as she'd gasp his name into his ear; the
need he'd have, to drive himself so deep within her body that he'd
become forever lost there, and willingly so.  Her legs, winding all
around him; and her arms, squeezing him hard, as she'd convulse,
clamping him tighter than a velvet fist.   The way she'd cry out his
name, a two-syllable sonnet that would decimate his soul...  The
aftermath, of holding each other and falling asleep with an unspoken
promise that there'd be no turning back, for either of them. 

All because Dana Scully gave him a smile that told him, more than
words, their time had come.  All because she held nothing in reserve
when she laughed, when she kissed, when she loved.  Someday he'll
think back on this day and smile himself as he remembers the
perfection of it.  

Of course they were meant to love, regardless of what the catalyst
might have been.  He knows this and so does she.  But still... it all
started with that fabulous, full-blown smile, the one he was smart
enough to see and to act upon.  

He's such a lucky man...

In the pre-dawn hours of a significant and monumental night, they
hold fast to each other, and sleep.


End