TITLE:       SHADOW DANCE
AUTHOR:      DONNILEE
E-MAIL:      donnilee@snet.net
WEBSITE:     http://donnilee.tripod.com
CATEGORY:    MSR
RATING:	 NC-17
SPOILERS:    Nope.
SUMMARY:   Mulder's need for contact and to keep Scully close, leads to other realizations.
DEDICATION:  To my hubby again, for putting up with my obsessions and for making shadows with me!
AUTHOR'S NOTE:	Fluff, fluff, fluff, fluff -- Fluff, fluff, fluff, fluff -- 
Sing it with me now!  Fluff, fluff, fluff, fluff -- Fluff, fluff, fluff, fluff.

XXXXXXXXXX
DANA SCULLY'S APARTMENT
GEORGETOWN, D.C.
SATURDAY MORNING - 2:00 AM

We finished another horrific case yesterday.  A man was killing children.  He'd gotten three 
under the age of 10 before we tracked him down.  We were called in because of the fact that the 
guy was leaving occult ritual paraphernalia at the crime scenes.  There was nothing paranormal 
about it.  The guy was a garden-variety sicko, if there was such a thing.  

He started to come to my apartment about two months ago in the dead of night.  He doesn't know 
that I know.  He nearly scared the pants off me the first time.  At least I think it was the first time.

I came awake suddenly, unsure what had woken me.  I stared at the doorframe of my bedroom, 
seeing his body outlined against the frame.  He was dressed in black and I had nearly panicked 
until I recognized the lanky slouch, as he leaned silently against the doorjamb.

The small amber nightlight plugged into the socket in the hallway cast an ethereal glow from 
behind him, making his shadow sway slightly when he moved, which was very little.  His long 
shadow stretched across my carpet.  I had squinted, feigning sleep, wondering what he was 
doing there.  

After a half hour of silence, I'd drifted off to sleep again, never having said a word.  Now I expect 
him.  It didn't seem to happen when we were on the road.  Only after we had returned home did 
these nightly visits occur.  He came twice weekly for that first month, at least that I know of.  
Then he began coming every other night.  And now, for this last week, he'd been here every 
night.

We had not left town for this one.  It was right in our own backyard in Falls Church, VA.  He'd 
come every night since Monday.  A couple of times I'd opened my eyes and smiled at him, 
waiting to see if he would say anything, but he never did.  He never came closer.  Just stood 
there in my doorway, looking at me.

I have no idea how long he stayed.  I fell asleep and he was gone when I awoke.  He has never 
mentioned it in the light of day either.  Funny -- I should be uncomfortable, but I'm not.  I've slept 
in silk pajamas most of the time except in the dead heat of summer when I've slept nude.  It's 
November and chilly out now, so I've slept in my pajamas.

There was something slightly eerie about his presence, but I never felt threatened.  Oddly, I felt 
safer than usual, knowing he was there looking at me and I was not alone.  I didn't know if he just 
needed to be with me, his best friend, or if there was some deeper meaning to these visits.  
Something told me that I was a tether for him, a tether to reality and a reason for him to go on, 
especially after a tough case.  The weight of that responsibility weighed heavily sometimes, but I 
wouldn't trade it now.

Something was shifting though.  I felt tension sometimes now when I awoke to find him there, 
staring at me.  I could never see his face in the darkness.  Tonight was different.  My vision was 
not clear, but pale moonlight shed some illumination through the window and I could see the 
outlines of his handsome face.

His eyes were like two burning coals in his head, completely black from my point of view.  His 
lips were pulled into a frown as he gazed at me, his arms crossed across his chest, his shoulder 
leaning negligently against the doorjamb.  The silence was usually comforting, but tonight it was 
different.  I could feel the restless energy rolling off him in waves.

I've gotten used to his unnatural silence.  Tonight though, I could hear him breathing, his breaths 
heavy.  I saw him raise the back of his hand to his lips and close his eyes.  

I stirred and sat up, something I hadn't done before.  He tensed and straightened away from the 
doorframe.  As he turned to go I found myself not wanting him to leave.  Why then did I need to 
know the reason for these visits?  I think I already knew, but I wanted to hear it from him.

"Mulder," my voice was a whisper in the silence and he stopped, half turned to exit, one hand 
grasping the molding.  He didn't move and didn't respond for several long moments.

Then, so softly I could barely hear him, he said, "I'm sorry," and he strode into the hallway.  

"Mulder!" I call, my voice now seeming like a shout in the virtual silence of the apartment.  

The only response was the clicking sound of the front door closing behind him.  I heard his key 
turn in the lock, securing it for the night.  I fell back on the pillows, releasing a deep sigh and felt 
tears sting the back of my eyes for no particular reason.  What the hell was going on?

Why hadn't it bothered me that he stood there and watched me sleep?  How weird was that?  No 
one had ever accused either one of us of being normal, but we really were strange.  I couldn't 
imagine trying to explain this to anyone and have them understand.  We needed each other as 
friends and partners, but we also needed each other's presence.  The pull was stronger now 
than it had ever been to be near him ... to touch him.  We've almost lost each other so many 
times.

I tried not to dwell on that, but somehow, I couldn't get it out of my mind.  What if there was no 
tomorrow?  What if one of us was killed on the next case?  Then what?  Had I said everything I 
needed to say? Everything I wanted to say?  Only in the safety of imminent demise did it seem 
possible that I would reveal my heart.  But as I laid there thinking about it, what good would that 
do me? If one of us were going to die, wouldn't the sentiments and emotions be wasted at that 
point, unable to be explored or enjoyed?

All these questions swirled in my head and left me more confused and more tired.  I finally drifted 
off into a fitful sleep.  I wonder when he slept?

XXXXXXXXXX
FOX MULDER'S APARTMENT
ALEXANDRIA, VA
SATURDAY MORNING - 2:45 AM

Why am I so nervous?  What was the big deal?  I knew somewhere in the back of my brain that 
she had to know I was there.  I didn't know how long she'd known though.  If she had any idea, 
she'd probably freak out.

Then again, she'd discovered me on more than one occasion now, waking from fretful sleep and 
stilled at the sight of me.  She never spoke and neither did I.  What would I say?  'Gee, Scully, 
just came to watch you sleep because I can't stand to be away from you for more than a couple 
of hours.'  Or, 'Hey Scully, I stand here night after night contemplating our relationship and 
beating myself up for wanting more when I should be satisfied with what we have.'

She'd looked like an angel tonight in her dark blue, silk pajamas, the top hanging open at an 
angle, giving me a partial view of the side of her lovely, plump breast.  She was usually buried 
under the covers and if she did wake, she was silent and merely watched me until she fell asleep 
again.

I thought we had an unspoken agreement not to mention this.  I don't know why I thought that, 
maybe because neither of us had ever talked, or acknowledged what I was doing.

But tonight was different.  She sat up in bed, her eyes pinning mine asking a question.  I didn't 
know which question it was, but I'd be willing to bet that if she put in words, it would have been, 
'What are you doing here every night?'  Or, 'You're giving me the creeps, Mulder, what's going 
on?'

I smirked to myself in the blackness of my apartment.  The only light was from the fish tank and I 
stared at the Mollies swimming placidly back and forth inside their glass prison.

The words from Pink Floyd floated across my mind, 'We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish 
bowl, year after year.  Running over the same old ground.  What have we found?  The same old 
fears, wish you were here.'

How appropriate were those lyrics to what was going on in my life right now.  I was at a 
crossroads.  It was time to make a decision.  For better or worse, I couldn't live with things the 
way they were anymore.  I needed to take my risk and hope like hell that it didn't destroy us; that 
it didn't destroy me.  She would survive no matter what.  My partner was a survivor.  Me, my 
survival depended on her.  

I sank down onto the couch, not bothering to undress, just toeing off my sneakers.  I sighed and 
pillowed my arm under my head.  The question was when.  The question was how.  The real 
question was, 'could I find the courage'.

I closed my eyes, seeing her full lips parted in sleep, the tips of her white teeth peeking out, her 
long eyelashes that swept her cheeks and left shadows on her skin.  Her skin was like fine 
porcelain with no flaws.  I ached to touch it, run my fingers down her cheeks and run my thumbs 
over her collarbone.  I felt my groin tingle as I began to harden with the thoughts.  'Oh Scully, 
what the hell am I going to do?' I thought. 'I can't just keep creeping in on you like a shadow and 
leaving without a trace.  You have all of my baggage to burden you.  How I would love to balance 
it with the love I have to give you.  

I just don't know if I'm strong enough to cross the line and survive if it all goes bad.  I really don't 
know.  I tried to get a few hours sleep before the sun will wake me.  I avoid touching myself, 
putting both hands behind my head.  I didn't want to do that again tonight.  It was merely a band-
aid, a temporary fix, like throwing a sponge into a flood.  It got old fast and now it merely left me 
with a sense of aching emptiness that I'd rather not deal with tonight. I was lonely enough.

Decision time was coming.  I could feel it in the pit of my stomach, like a berserk butterfly.  She 
was going to call me on my behavior now.  I knew it.  Someone else might not have picked up on 
the subtle change in our chemistry but I had.  She'd responded openly to my presence tonight.  

Change was coming.

And it scared the shit out of me.

XXXXXXXXXX
DANA SCULLY'S APARTMENT
GEORGETOWN, D.C.
SATURDAY EVENING - 6:00 PM

I'd spent the day preparing, considering how I was going to approach this.  I cleaned like a white 
tornado and the apartment was gleaming, not that he would care one way or the other.  
Cleanliness was not on the top of his priority list, but it helped me to think.  I'd made Chicken 
Parmesan and pasta; and a salad was chilling in the refrigerator.
 
I'd called him two hours ago and invited him over for dinner.  He'd sounded very hesitant but 
finally relented, sounding almost relieved.  I'd dressed casually in black leggings and a snug 
blue sweater with big gray socks.  I was wearing my moccasins.  I'd let my hair dry naturally, not 
wanting to seem 'fixed'.  I had a hunch he liked it better that way anyway.

Even expecting him, I jumped at the sound of the doorbell when it rang promptly at 6:00 PM.  He 
was never on time.  Something was definitely afoot.  I had made a decision in the wee hours of 
the morning and cemented them as the day went on.  Life was too short.  Changes needed to be 
made.

I was surprisingly confident in my decision, not worrying so much about his reciprocating my 
intentions, but whether or not he could accept them without a gigantic fuss.

I strode to the door, releasing the chain as I peeked through the peephole.  He stood there 
shifting his weight from one foot to the other.  I took a deep breath and opened the door wide.

He raised his head from the examination of his sneakers and looked up at me.  His quick intake 
of breath reassured me that my choices of attire for the evening were the right ones.  His eyes 
quickly traveled over me then snapped back up to meet my gaze.

I smiled and motioned him inside.  He came in closing the door behind him and turning to me, 
holding out a paper bag.  I took it and pulled out the sparkling cider he'd brought.

"Sparkling cider?  This is new," I commented.

He shrugged, "I don't think I need any alcohol tonight," was his reply.

I merely smiled at him and went into the kitchen hollering over my shoulder for him to take off his 
coat.  I took the chicken out of the oven and set it on top of the oven to keep it warm.  I retrieved 
the salad from the fridge along with several salad dressings and put them all on the table.  The 
table was already set.  

I turned to find him eyeing me from the doorway to the kitchen.  "Sit down, eat," I offered.

He nodded and sat down spooning some salad up.  I poured us some cider and set that out too.  
Then I sat with him and we ate in silence for a few minutes, throwing furtive glances at each 
other.  When he was done with his salad, he sighed and pushed the salad bowl away and set 
down his silverware.  "Scully, what am I doing here?" 

I was a little shocked that he asked out of the blue like that, but I put down my fork and finished 
chewing.  After swallowing, I said, "Want to get into it now or after we eat?"

He just looked at me for a few seconds and said, "I guess we should eat first."

I smiled gently at him and got up and brought the chicken and pasta to the table, setting them on 
trivets.  I served him and then myself.  In between bites I said, "If it makes you feel any better, I'm 
not going to ruin your appetite."

He grinned reluctantly and shook his head in an amused way, but kept eating, not responding.  
He said, "This is delicious, Scully."

"Thank you."

"I forget what a good cook you are."

I beamed at the compliment.  "I don't get to do it very often."

He frowned.  "That's my fault.  I'm always dragging you all over the place."

Now I frowned.  "Mulder, please don't start that.  You don't drag me anywhere.  I choose to go.  
What I meant was that I don't get to cook for someone else very often.  It's not worth the effort for 
just myself.  But I love to watch others enjoy their food."

"You can't deny that I'm the reason you have no social life," he said quietly, and kept on eating, 
the clinking of our silverware loud in the silence of the kitchen.

I sighed and said, "Yes, I can.  I have no social life because I choose not to."

He gave me a look that said, 'Oh, please, get real!' 

"It's true.  If I wanted to go to a bar tonight and dance, I could go.  If I wanted to go join the 
Church or the civic groups around here, I could go.  If I wanted to go and pick up some guy and 
bring him home, I'm sure I could do that.  It can't be much more difficult than it used to be."

He choked on his mouthful of food and grabbed his napkin, covering his mouth.  I smiled to 
myself, secretly amused by his reaction.  He coughed and took a sip of his wine.  "Excuse me," 
he muttered.

"No problem.  Don't like that idea, huh?"

His head snapped up and he looked me in the eye.  His were blazing with emotion, some which I 
couldn't identify.  But I saw fear was at the top of the list.  His voice was harsh and forced when 
he said, "No!  I have no right, but I HATE the idea of you ..."

He faded off, licking his lips.

"Going out and picking someone up?" I finished helpfully.

He frowned severely and stared at his plate.  He mumbled, "Being with any man, period, picked 
up or not." 

I just looked at him but he wouldn't meet my gaze.  I stood up and held out my hand.  He eyed it 
suspiciously.  "Are you done?" I asked.

He nodded and stood, going to pick up his plate.  "In the sink?" he asked.

I nodded, dropping my hand and following him with my dirty plate.  I retrieved the left over 
chicken and pasta and covered it, putting it in the fridge.  He stood still in the middle of the 
kitchen, seemingly at a loss.  "Let's go in the living room," I suggested.

He nodded and strode into the living room.  I followed and motioned to the couch.  He sat down, 
he long legs stretching out in front of him, his left arm across the back of the couch.  I know I 
surprised him when I sat down next to him, our hips touching and I leaned back into his arm.  I 
heard him suck in a tiny gasp and stiffen.  I said, "Relax, Mulder.  I'm not going to bite you."

He smiled a tremulous smile then and lowered his arm over my shoulders in a tentative move.  I 
sighed and leaned into him a bit, feeling the heat of his body seep into mine.

I was obviously going to have to start this conversation or it wasn't going to happen.  "I want to 
ask you some questions," I began.

"I figured," was all he said.

I smiled at his reluctance.  He always assumed the worst.  "I want to talk about your ... nightly 
visits."

He nodded, offering nothing more, as though he knew that was going to be the topic of 
conversation.  He probably had known.

"Why do you come?"

He was silent for a few more moments and then said, "Because I can't stay away," he stated 
simply.

I nodded and he raised his eyebrows, obviously expecting me to question that response.  "Why 
can't you stay away?  From me, I assume."

He nodded again, swallowing heavily.  "I don't know.  Well, I do, but I don't."

I remained silent and turned into him, laying my hand on his chest.  He looked down at it and 
took a deep breath.   Then he turned to look at my face.  "I can't sleep most nights.  I don't know 
why.  But I go home and lay there getting all anxious."

"About what?"

"That's the thing, I don't know, but I do know ..." he trailed off.

"You do know what?"

He swallowed heavily and said, "That the anxiety goes away when I'm with you."  His voice was 
thick and he turned away, curling the fingers of his right hand under his chin and brushing his 
razor stubble in a nervous gesture.

"And can you sleep after you've been here?"

"Yes, for a while."

I nodded and reached up, palming his face and turning it toward me.  "I have a confession to 
make."

He stiffened. "What?"

"Relax, Mulder." 

He took a deep slow breath and blew it out forcefully and then met my eyes again.  "Sorry."

"Don't apologize.  But I need for you to know that ... it hasn't bothered me."

His eyes narrowed now as they looked at me but he didn't say anything.

I continued, dropping my hand back down to his chest.  I was nearly turned sideways now to look 
up at his face, which was turned down toward mine.  "Instead of feeling ... unnerved, which I 
suppose I should, I only felt ... safe."

He barked out a laugh then that held no mirth and said, "You are a lot of things around me, 
Scully, but safe isn't one of them."

"Depends on how you look at it."

He peered at me again, waiting.

"You're my best friend, Mulder and I know you won't hurt me."

He lips twitched but otherwise he stayed silent.

"I was a little spooked the first time I woke up and saw you there, but that's because I didn't know 
it was you."

He was looking at me intently now.  "As soon as I knew it was you, I relaxed and didn't feel ..."

"Didn't feel?" he prompted.

"Anything was wrong with it.  It was strange really.  I knew it wasn't normal to have you standing 
there in my bedroom watching me sleep, but I wasn't bothered by it for some reason.  I didn't 
really examine why at the time."

"But now you have?" he asked, tentatively.

"Yes, and I realized it's because I trust you."

He groaned softly.  "Sometimes I wish you didn't," he muttered.

"Why would you say that?" I asked, genuinely confused.

"Because I want to live up to that trust, Scully.  And I'm not so sure that I can continue to be ... 
noble."

"Noble?"

He shrugged.

"Define noble."

He sighed.  "You trust me not to take advantage of you and you trust me not to ..."

"Not to?" It was my turn to prompt him.

He looked away from me, examining the coffee table.  "Not to touch you," he said softly.

We were both silent for quite a few while.  Finally I asked, "You're close, Mulder, but not entirely 
accurate."

"What's not accurate?"

"I do trust you not to touch me ... without my permission," I added.

He stared into my eyes then and I felt his arm tighten around my shoulders.  I think it was 
involuntary.  His eyelids were hooded at half-mast, and his breathing was shallow.  "Of course I 
wouldn't," he said finally, "But that doesn't mean ..."

"That you don't want to?" I asked, secretly proud that my voice was so calm.

His jaw opened and then closed as though he would say something, but then decided against it.

I turned into him more fully, almost going up on my knees and putting my hands on his 
shoulders.  "Things are changing between us, Mulder."

His bottom lip quivered and he whispered, "I know."

"Is it a change you want?"

"I'm not sure if we're on the same page or not," he hedged.

I smiled at him, turning to put my left hip against his right one and leaning into him, my breasts 
landing on his chest.  A quick low sound grunted out of his throat, but he continued to stare at 
me.  "I think we are."

He licked his lips.  "You tell me, Scully."

I closed my eyes, steeling myself to make my announcement.  It would sound crass just blurting 
it out so instead I said, "I want more than your shadow in my bedroom, Mulder."

"Oh!" he gasped, his hands coming down on my hips.

I shifted and slid into his lap, straddling his thighs.  His hands squeezed my waist rhythmically in 
indecision.  I leaned into him and stopped mere millimeters from his lips and licked my own.

"Will you kiss me?" I whispered.

"Oh God," he whispered.

I smiled and the corners of his mouth turned up quickly in surprise and then fell.  "Scully? I don't 
.."

I frowned.  "You don't want to kiss me?" I asked, embarrassed at how small my voice sounded.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

I nodded.

So slowly I thought I would go insane, he reached up and cupped my face.  He drew me down 
that last small distance and plucked at my bottom lip, nipping it between his. It was my turn to 
give off a little gasp.  

He seemed encouraged by that and began gently rubbing his lips over mine, back and forth, our 
mouth open, exchanging breaths.

I felt tingling electricity shoot through me and warmth spilled down my back.  My God, he wasn't 
even really kissing me. The tip of his tongue darted out and licked my upper lip, then the bottom 
one, teasing me.  I groaned softly and I saw his eyes go wide a second before they snapped shut 
and he laid his mouth over mine.

Without a thought I opened my mouth and his warm, wet tongue sped inside, swirling around the 
soft skin of my cheeks.  My breath felt suddenly thin and currents of something warm and 
intoxicating ran in rivers up and down my spine as his hands traveled slowly over my snug 
sweater.

Fire swept through me and I could feel my pulse pounding as his mouth plundered mine.  He was 
slow and thorough but a little rough, seeming starved for the contact.  And he was.  So was I.  It 
had been too long. 

XXXXXXXXXX

I felt something like churning heat in the pit of my belly when she readily opened her mouth and I 
felt my tongue slide inside for the first time.  All my nerve endings were humming.  I shouldn't be 
doing this.  This was dangerous.  One touch was not going to be enough.  One kiss was only 
going the whet my appetite and I knew it.  

Despite that, I couldn't stop.  I couldn't have stopped if the building was on fire.  Right now the 
only fire happening was in my body.  Blood rushed with a whooshing sound in my ears and my 
dick grew hard and throbbed within the confines of my jeans.  They were rapidly becoming too 
tight.

A deep primal groan rose out of me when she gyrated her hips against me, rolling her pubic 
bone over my erection.  The vibrations shot into her mouth and she swallowed them as I felt her 
tremble in my arms.

I pulled back, not wanting to stop but needing to breathe.  Her cheeks were high pink and her 
lips wet and swollen.  Her blue eyes had turned dark and smoky.  She shivered and her grip 
tightened on my shoulders as I lay my forehead on hers.  "Scully, " I croaked out, embarrassed at 
the gravelly tone of my voice, hoarse with desire.  "We have to stop."

She was panting gently, her moist breath bathing my chin.  She blinked slowly and slid her right 
hand down my chest, over my waistband and cupped my throbbing erection through the soft 
denim of my jeans.  I shouted, "Jesus!"

She threw me a smile I'd never seen before. It was sensual and predatory.  She spoke softly, her 
voice husky with arousal that sent his head spinning.  "I asked you here tonight because I 
wanted ..."

"Wanted?" I barely choked out.

"Wanted to cross the line."

"The line?" I asked stupidly, still not sure how far she wanted to go as her hands landed back on 
my shoulders.

"The line," she whispered.  "I'm ready.  Are you?"

Comprehension dawned.  The line.  The line between friendship and intimacy.  The line between 
loving and being in love.  Was I ready?  Hell, no.  I'd never be ready.  But I wanted this. God, I'd 
never wanted anything so badly in my entire life.  It could ruin everything.

But with her sitting there in my lap, looking all aroused by my kisses, I could no more say no to 
her than cut off my own arm.  I growled and stood up.

Her legs wrapped around my waist without hesitation.  She weighed next to nothing and I strode 
to the bedroom, hoping my legs would hold out.  They were fast taking on a rubbery quality that I 
wasn't terribly fond of.

We made it to the bed and I let her down gently.  We stood and removed each other's tops.  She 
reached out and undid my belt buckle and then the button at the waist of my jeans.  Just feeling 
her fingers brush below my navel made me suck in my stomach.  She smiled and grasped my 
zipper between her thumb and forefinger, sliding it down and letting her other fingers trail over 
me.  I moaned as she yanked my pants down, taking my boxers with them.  I toed off my 
sneakers and socks and then stepped out of them.
 
She stood up and gasped.  She stared at my cock as it bounced lightly in the cool air.  I was stiff 
as a board and could feel my own pulse.

I reached for her and dragged her leggings down, slipping her panties, socks and shoes off all in 
one swipe.  She tipped backwards onto the bed and bounced slightly.  She bounced back up and 
lit a candle on the bureau and returned to the bed, laying back with her legs dangling over the 
edge from the knee down.

I leaned over her and fingered the clasp to her front hooking bra of cream silk.  She nodded and 
I flicked the hook and the fabric fell away revealing two glorious mounds of flesh.  Her nipples 
were already puckered although probably from the coolness of the room. Her skin was delicate 
and I could see the blue veins tracing through her flesh.  I bent down, feeling like there was a 
magnet pulling my face toward her.  I braced my hands on the bed on either side of her rib cage 
and sucked her left nipple into my mouth.

"Ohhh Christ, Mulder!" she shouted.  I took that as a good sign.  I teased both nipples, one with 
my mouth, the other with my fingers until she was gasping and moaning in frustration.  

I knelt down on the rug and pulled her to the edge, putting her legs over my shoulders.  She 
came up on her elbows and said, "Mulder, you might not want ..."

That's as far as she got.  At that point, I plunged my mouth over her in an open mouthed kiss, 
swirling my tongue in her juices and she flopped back on the bed, her hands fisting in the covers.  
"Oh God," she groaned.

I worked her mercilessly, too worked up to think about stopping, slowing down or anything. I was 
completely intoxicated by the smell of her, the taste of her and the feel of her silky skin as it slid 
beneath my hands that rubbed everywhere I could reach.   I felt drunk.

Her hips bucked into my face and I decided to get my fingers into the action.  Her reactions to me 
were making my own arousal climb to unbelievable heights.  I found her spongy nubbin of 
pleasure and teased my tongue in circles around it, feeling her cringe in response.   She moaned 
low and drawn out.  That was my cue.  I took the little nub into my mouth and sucked, laving it 
with my tongue and pushing two fingers inside her. 

Her walls began to contract immediately around my soaking fingers.  She cried out ... my name, 
"Mmmuullldddeeerrrr!  Oh God, yes!   Mulder!"

I rode it out with her and when she settled, I gently disengaged my fingers, giving her one last 
loving lick from bottom to top. 

"Oh!" she gasped.  I mounted the bed on all fours, straddling her.  She cast a sated smile at me 
and cupped my neck, pulling me down to kiss her.  I shared her taste with her and then felt the 
insistent throbbing between my legs.

"Scully, I need ..."

"I know," she whispered.  She moved up to the center of the bed and laid back, one leg raised, 
the other flat and held out her hand.  I was helpless at this point, and I'd never felt so alive. 

I watched her lift her other leg and her thighs fall open in invitation.  I groaned as I insinuated 
myself between her legs and took my weight on my elbows.  I was gasping harshly and I felt 
completely out of control.  I concentrated on slowing my breathing and she waited patiently.  I 
could feel the tender skin of my cock, bobbing against the silky skin of her thigh.

I looked at her and kissed her again.  "God, Scully ... how did we get here?"  

"I don't know ... right now, don't care."

I chuckled, starting to feel giddy.  She lifted her legs to wrap them around my waist and I sighed 
at the feeling of her silky skin sliding over my hips. I poked gently till I found her entrance and 
paused.

"This is going to change everything, Scully," I murmured, not knowing why I was still hesitating.  
She obviously wanted this as much as I did.

She smiled.  "Yes, for the better." 

Her heels pressed into my butt and I sank into her in one languid steady slide, shouting, 
"Aaaahhhhwwww!"

I panted, feeling her soft, wet walls pulse around me.  My breath hitched in my throat as 
emotions crashed over me; love, exhilaration, nameless fear.  

She shattered the last of my hesitation and fear with three words, moaned out in a breathy, 
husky voice.

"I love you."

My face twisted into a grimace as I held the tears back.  I swallowed them and bravely met her 
eyes, suspiciously damp as well.  "I love you too, Scully, more than you'll ever know."

I began to thrust gently feeling her core squeeze me and tease with a gentle rippling.  We both 
began moaning, keeping our eyes locked.  I was raw, open and so exposed.  And I'd never felt 
safer in my life.

Now I knew what she meant.  For all my fear of this ruining our relationship and partnership, I 
now knew how false that all was.  I trusted her.  I trusted her completely.  She would never hurt 
me, not intentionally.

I sped up at her urging, her tiny fingers gripping my biceps as I sank into her, listening to her 
mutter, "Oh God, Oh Mulder, so full.  God, feels so good."

I lifted my head and glanced to the side, something catching my eye.

The candle on the opposite side of the room tossed a yellow muted glow behind our bodies and 
our silhouettes were perfectly outlined against the white wall.  

"Scully, look," I urged.

She turned her head and watched as our shadows came together and apart, and together again. 
I let her watch as I leaned down to suckle her breast.  Her back arched, pushing her breast into 
my mouth.

I couldn't bend that way for too long and moved up kissing her neck and nipping at her earlobes.  
"Mulder, look," she urged me now.

I looked and watched our shadows make love.  Even her shadow was so much smaller than I 
was.  A fierce wave of protectiveness spread over me and I sank into her over and over again, 
moaning at the feeling of her little body gripping my turgid member.

She began whimpering, "Ooo, ooo, ooooooo."

I sped up, rolling my stomach over her mons, trying to get the most contact.  She wailed, "Ohhh 
Myyy Goooodddddd!"  

She spasmed harshly, pulling me deeper and I slammed into her, bouncing her hips on the bed.  
She pulled me over the edge and I shouted, "I looovvveee you!"

My hips jerked, my balls cringed and my cock throbbed mightily and let loose with stinging spurts 
of cum that I shot deep into her snug, little well.  I collapsed onto her, peeking to the side to 
watch her delicate fingers brush up and down my back.

"That was wonderful, Mulder."

"Mmm, shadow dance."

"Shadow dance?"

"That's what they call that."

She hummed in appreciation.  "Seeing that was beautiful too."

"I love you."

"I love you too, Mulder."

"Sure you're not going to regret this?" I asked, cringing at the neediness in my voice.

But she was used to my need for reassurance in all things Scully.  She brushed her hands 
through my sweat-dampened hair and I shivered. "I'll never regret loving you, Mulder, literally or 
figuratively.  You?"

"Never.  I belong to you, Scully."

She cupped my face and kissed me again, slow and tender, it was a kiss filled with reassurance 
and comfort.

She broke the kiss and hummed.  "You taste good."

I almost choked in surprise. 

"Does that mean I get to do this whenever I want?"

"Do this?" I teased.

She pursed her lips.  "I see lots of shadow dancing in your future, Mulder." 

I grinned, a little disbelieving that Scully was teasing me for a change.  "Oh do you now?  Have 
you become psychic while I wasn't looking?"

She grinned.  "In some ways I can predict the future," she said cryptically.

I waggled my eyebrows at her.  "I'll shadow dance with you anytime, baby."

She barked out a laugh.  "Baby?"

I gave her a pointed look that dared her to make something of it.

She merely smiled and said.  "Let's go to sleep and then when we wake up, we can make some 
more shadows."

I rolled off her and pulled her into my side, maneuvering the covers over us.

She curled into me, her back to my chest and her head resting on my arm.  I molded us together, 
humming at the feeling of contented lethargy that was stealing over me.

She muttered, "I think I like this shadow dancing business."

I chuckled, "Only make shadows with me from now on, O.K.?"

She turned and looked at me incredulously.  Then she sighed, "Only with you, Mulder.  It's 
always been you."

With that, she flopped down, snuggled back against me tightly and we feel asleep.  I actually 
slept, deeply, and dreamt of making more shadows dance on the walls.
 
THE END.