Title: The Gift Author: Angie Patrick E-mail: apatrick@bookstore.usf.edu Classification: V,MSR Rating: NC-17 Spoilers: Redux II Summary: Not summarized at author's request. Archivists: Please archive wherever you see fit -- just keep my name and e-mail address attached. Warning: Herein lies ... sex, sex, and more sex. Well, actually it's just one round of sex. (Disappointed?) So if you're underage or don't go for this sort of thing between M & S, then perhaps turn back now. You have been warned. I have once again used the characters of Dana Scully and Fox Mulder without permission and do not regret it one bit. (Getting bold, aren't I?) Chris Carter, the Fox Network and Ten Thirteen own them and as such are very, very, very rich and spoiled and powerful and ... oh, sorry. Got carried away. I am not personally making any money off this. (Oh well.) But I did have fun writing it. Personal satisfaction is my only reward. It doesn't pay the bills, but it does make me a happy little girl. Dedication: To two people whose deep understanding of love not only exceeds my most basic guesses at it, but who leave me speechless in the wake of its power. You know who you are. May you *never* be parted. Here we go ... ********************************** The Gift By Angie Patrick apatrick@bookstore.usf.edu ********************************** His soulful eyes watch me with little apology. I am moving from one room to the next, switching off the lights as I go, checking each room one last time before I turn in. It is a ritual I follow every night, and every night Mulder stands in the doorway to the bedroom, watching me as if he has never seen me do this. As soon as he sees me approaching he retreats to the bed, strips off his boxers and climbs in, switching off the lamp just before I get to the doorway. I hesitate when I reach the spot he has just left, feeling the full force of his stare upon me. He never says a word. He simply lays in bed, watching me, waiting for me to return to him. A playful smile graces his full lips and I catch myself staring at him. "Scully?" he calls to me, his voice touched by a concern he reserves only for me. I shake my head slightly and smile at him in the dark. The hardest part of being with Mulder is his constant concern that perhaps there is something wrong. Tension begins to build in my shoulders and I tip my head back and close my eyes trying to fight it off. *Relax,* I think. Mulder reads me easily. Somtimes I feel like an open book before him. He has memorized every line and can recite with ease my many quirks and insecurities. A good thing, perhaps? Maybe. It is insignificant in the end, though. Standing in the doorway to the bedroom, I feel his eyes moving over me, scanning my every feature, looking for any clue to what is truly going on inside my head. I look back at him, then down for a moment and consider what we have become since I found out the cancer was in remission. After only a minute, I realize this pull, the inescapable draw that we have to each other, was always there. It was just never acted upon. Until lately. Until just a few short weeks ago. I smile and shake my head remembering our first night together. I find that I cannot move as he watches me. His eyes hold me where I stand, and although I am somewhat uncomfortable under his close scrutiny, I find myself relaxing somewhat. "Coming to bed?" he asks casually, and I look up, finding his eyes in the dark easily now that my eyes have adjusted. He shifts his position in bed and I allow myself to appraise his body in those few moments. Mulder is a strong man. It shows everywhere, including his heart and soul. I smile at him and wonder if he knows what I am thinking. He probably does -- he knows me that well. His magnetism finally wins and I find myself carefully making my way to his side. To my bed. Our bed. It isn't even a matter of conscious thought anymore. I simply look at him and realize I cannot resist. As I move across the room, I pull my nightshirt off and drop it on the floor. The best way to sleep with Mulder is skin to skin. I pull back the blankets and climb into bed with him, snuggling close, my back to his chest. His body is warm and solid against mine and I relax against him as soon as he wraps his arms around me. He presses himself against me and I feel my heart quicken. A stray thought wanders through my mind. Why did I ever bother to not allow this? What was the point? I smile as I lose myself in his soft kisses. His hands begin wandering over my back, my hips and over the flat of my stomach, and I smile, knowing what is coming. When he reaches down and strokes the inside of my thigh, I shift against him, opening myself to him without reservation. He reaches down, between my legs and only lightly touches me. I try not to groan in dissapointment. "Considering the possibilities?" he murmurs against my ear as he resumes stroking the inside of my thigh. I feel him hard and hot behind me and I press myself against him as fully as I can in reply. Mulder nuzzles the back of my neck as a long, satisfied sigh escapes him. "Is that a yes?" he asks after a few more minutes of simply touching me, caressing me with his skillful hands. At this, I turn in his arms and look into his warm eyes. Is the answer ever no? I can't remember ever feeling like it should be. "Of course," I whisper, a sly grin breaking out on my face despite my efforts to keep it under control. As reserved as I sometimes am, being with Mulder like this strips me of all pretense. I can't avoid smiling when I'm with him. It's impossible. "Okay," he says softly and then claims my mouth gently, sweetly, with no urgency. Not only is he in the mood, he's in the mood to take it slow. I smile all over again. Some nights it happens fast, some night it happens slow, depending on our moods. Tonight, neither of us are in any hurry. I feel him pull me completely against him, his erection pressed against my belly. His hands wander over my body again and I sigh softly as he dips his head and kisses the hollow of my throat. I tip my head back to give him better access, and to my delight he moves lower and takes one taut nipple in his mouth. I squirm against him as he suckles at me. My hands begin exploring his body of their own accord, rubbing his strong chest, my fingertips already in search of his functionless nipples. I find them and graze him with my fingernails. Mulder's body tightens in response. "Scully, if you keep that up..." he starts to say, then stops as I drag my hands down his body. "If I keep that up, what?" I ask playfully as I take hold of him and squeeze, then stroke him lightly, teasing him as he does me. "This won't last long," he finishes on a groan and I have to keep myself from laughing. A teenager. I feel like a teenager again. Sometimes I think he does too. Mulder reaches between us and stills my hands. "Don't," he whispers and brings my hands to his mouth, kissing them. He is watching me as I watch him, and I am amazed as his serious expression is transformed into a devilish and playful grin. He pushes me onto my back, then abandons my hands, leaving them at my sides and resumes touching me. I watch him as he does this and am amazed again to see his serious expression return. I know this look. He is concentrating on me -- on pleasing me. I smile in return. "Just let me touch you, Scully," he murmurs and I relax and close my eyes, revelling in the feeling of his hands moving over me -- featherlight touches that both soothe and excite. "That's right," he mumbles. "Just relax ... let me do the work." After a few minutes I feel him shift next to me, but I keep my eyes closed. I am quickly approaching the limit of my control. It is becoming impossible not to touch him, but I convince myself that waiting will be worth it. It usually is. Suddenly I feel his hot breath on my chest and realize what he plans to do next. I smile a small, smug grin of satisfaction but remain still under his assault. A thought runs through my mind and I can't resist the urge to say something. "Extreme possibilities, Mulder?" I murmur as he kisses his way down my body. My hands are itching to touch him now. I struggle with the urge to run my fingers through his hair. He stops for a moment and I smile and open my eyes, looking down slightly to see his dark eyes regarding me with more than just a devilish glint in them. I am suddenly overwhelmed by the moment and I reach out for him, finding his cheek and stroking it. He turns his head into my palm and kisses me there. I draw my legs up slightly under him and wait for his reply. "Are you saying you're open to them, Scully?" he asks, turning his head so that he is now looking at me again. "I'd say so," I answer, parting my legs without any help from his hands. He grins again and lowers his head to my belly, kissing me there, then quickly moving down to where I really want him. My hands go to his shoulders and I squeeze tightly as soon as my hands connect with them. He laps at me as I writhe beneath him. His tongue dances over me and I feel myself tightening in response. I fight with my own needs and try to hang on for release until he is inside me. He knows -- he has learned -- how far he can take me this way before I fall over the edge. He also knows that my preference is to take him with me. Together in everything. It's everything that we are, and I make no secret of how I feel about this. My hands begin tugging at him when I know I am not far from climax. Mulder stops and makes his way back to me, settling his knees between my legs. His eyes are dark and wild and I run my hands through his hair, feeling its silky softness. "Do you want me?" he asks me. Mulder has never had any reservation about asking me how I feel when he is making love to me. I smile shyly and nod my head in reply. He sinks into me without another word and then stills himself long enough for my body to adjust to him. I close my eyes again and tip my head back as we move together. I match his pace easily, meeting him stroke for stroke. Words have been replaced by incoherent murmurs against my ear as his pace becomes more erratic. I feel myself approaching the edge and stroke his back to encourage him. "C'mon, Mulder," I suddenly say, smiling against him as his body slaps against mine. "Make me come." I surprise myself with my own words. I usually prefer to tell him without words what I want but for some reason tonight I have found a voice that normally only echoes in my mind as we make love. At my words, his moves become frantic and urgent. Suddenly I am there and the orgasm rips through me with a power I have never felt before. Mulder gives one last wild, deep thrust, emptying himself inside me. He collapses on top of me seconds later, panting against my neck. I wrap my arms and legs around him tightly as we both ride the waves, and I sigh knowing that this man loves me completely. It is precisely this moment that I enjoy most. Holding him, being held. I love the feel of his bare skin against mine, the feel of him relaxed over me, breathing deeply as I stroke his back. I watch in fascination as goosebumps raise under my fingertips, and can't help but to chuckle lightly to myself. Mulder catches the laugh and picks up his head to look directly into my eyes. His eyes are back to a warm hazel and he is beginning to look sleepy. "What?" he questions playfully, a trace of childlike wonder in his voice. "Nothing," I say, smiling at him for no reason other than the fact that I love him and am utterly happy with him. He strokes my cheek with his index finger and keeps his eyes locked on mine. Even in the dark it is impossible to escape his gaze. "What are you thinking?" he asks, waiting patiently for me to talk to him. I take a deep breath and then decide to tell him. "About us," I answer evenly. "About everything we've been through and everything we'll probably have to endure just to keep this." Mulder gently disentangles himself from me and I nearly wince at the loss of him. He pulls me onto my side to face him as he silently works on my statement. "You worried?" he asks gently. I consider his question for a moment then decide on my answer. Although I have voiced my concerns, I do not feel any sense of panic or forboding looming around me. "No," I tell him honestly. "Good," he replies, smiling again. He tightens his grip on me and I snuggle against him, feeling as if I am the only woman on earth, the only woman Mulder wants or has ever wanted. I close my eyes and feel the beginnings of sleep drift through. "Because I'm not going anywhere, Scully," he whispers as I drift off. "I love you." "Love you, too," I mumble as sleep finally overtakes me. ------ end ------- Well ... another attempt at NC-17 with absolutely no plot in sight! Should I continue to write this stuff or just give up entirely? Feedback is both welcome and *appreciated.* Really. I'd love to hear from anyone. Anyone at all ... Hello?