Title: Unknown II Author: Maddie Hayes hayes_maddie@hotmail.com Category: MSR (kinda), RST Rating: NC-17 big time (sex, sex, more sex) Spoilers: "Fight the Future" Archive: Please archive at Gossamer and Xemplary with my thanks. Summary: A companion piece to "Unknown I." We get to hear Mulder's POV and feel a bit of Mulderangst along the way. NOTE: PLEASE, please read "Unknown I" before reading this piece. This is its companion, and it is absolutely necessary that "Unknown I" makes its way to your consciousness first. Disclaimer: Scully and Mulder belong to Chris Carter and 1013 productions; if they belonged to me, I probably wouldn't need to write this. No intention for profit here- that would be way too productive, even for me. A special thanks to Suzanne Bickerstaffe, who patiently argued with me about the truths of human physiology and offered some very solid advice along the way. Also thanks to Rachel Anton for taking the time to read my first efforts at fanfiction and to remove me from the world of thought brackets. Feedback: Please. I'm new at this- so tell me what you think. Love it? Hate it? Write and tell me why. . *** Friday, 8:00 p.m. Mulder was distracted. Really distracted. Not that distraction was a new concept to him, he lived on distraction, he counted on it. Years of his life had previously revolved around his quest to find his lost sister. He needed that distraction to give him purpose, and it did more than that. It gave him passion to get out of bed in the morning, to work, round the clock. But this distraction was different. It was a recently discovered purpose, one that was so deeply embedded in him for so many years that it took a cold slap of reality to knock him to his senses. The thought of Scully leaving him. He supposed he was so engulfed in his search for his sister, he couldn't absorb his surroundings. Absorb his day to day interaction with Scully. He knew that she was beautiful, but he never let her beauty get close to him. Always kept it past arm's length, as he had to keep his single purpose clear in his mind: finding Samantha. Of course that was until she told him she was resigning. Leaving him and the FBI. Then his carefully constructed walls came crashing down. He felt the floor drop as he heard her say it. He doesn't even remember what exactly he said at that moment, but it wasn't enough as she quickly turned and walked out of his apartment. He knew he had to stop her. His mind racing, he could not really grasp a reaction, because this was never something he expected. And he had never allowed himself to fully, consciously, realize what she meant to him. Now he had to find those words, that which was unspoken, unthought. He had thirty seconds to stop her from stepping on that elevator and walking out of his life. He had rushed out into the hallway, and spoken words from his blood, his center. How his body and soul needed her, how she had become a part of him, completed him. How she couldn't leave him. He knew exactly how little of this he had expressed to her before by reading her current reaction. Shock. How could he be so fucking stupid? Her eyes had filled with tears, he saw the softness in her - reaching out to him, holding him. Was she comforting him? Pitying him? At that moment, he didn't care. For once in his life, he forgot his distraction, his sister, the FBI, the X-files, Dallas. He saw Scully for the first time. In that first glimpse, he knew he had to mark the moment. The change, the awakening. The truth. He took her face in her hands, and lost himself in her eyes. Pulling closer to her open lips, the breath on his face, he felt his heart open and.... Then she had slipped away from him. At first he thought she was just coming to her senses, realizing he was taking advantage of her, but he soon realized it was much much worse than that. She was hurt. "Fuck." Back in the present, he grunted as he impatiently jumped out of his chair. He started his pacing again. The past months had been really hard on them. He knew it was his fault. He could not get back into his proper place with Scully because those walls were torn down months ago. Now the previous aloofness did not make sense. He had opened his heart to her, found the truth in her, and could not close that off. She haunted him everywhere. He couldn't even look at her the same way. And he hated himself for it. Mulder knew that something had to give. The strain on their partnership was definite, and he knew he was being unfair to her. In fact, he was being an asshole. He had no idea how he could possibly tell her that SHE had become his distraction, and he knew he was doing his damnedest to hide it. Maybe hiding it too well. He thought he would continue to live in complete suspension, until he had an idea. A couple of weeks ago, while lying in bed, unable to sleep, staring at his mirrored ceiling, he had a fantasy. Mulder imagined expressing his need to Scully without words. Without explanation. He knew that his dynamic with Scully was complex enough that the rules of beginning a relationship with her were unchartered. It wouldn't be easy. Words wouldn't be enough. Now, he realized that he was going to have to take the biggest risk of his life. Unconsciously, he was operating on the assumption that she would know. That the moment in the hallway wasn't pity. He usually could trust his instincts, and he believed she felt the same way. He just needed to open her to him, to show her that she could give herself to him, to show her that she could trust him. "Am I fucking insane?" he cursed out loud to his empty apartment. Mulder looked down at the key in his hand. He knew the setting for this meeting had to be new, unexplored. It had to be out of context. His uncle's second home seemed perfect. Now, how the hell to get her there? He collapsed on his couch, trembling. * * * Mulder woke up, and it was dark outside. He stretched languidly, but his calmness quickly evaporated when he remembered what he had planned to do tonight. He glanced at his watch. 12:58. He knew he had to act now, or never. He couldn't ponder as to whether this was the right time. Because he knew he would always be able to tell himself it wasn't. Now or never. He repeated it to himself, over and over as he picked up his phone, hands visibly shaking. Just get her to the house, Mulder. Don't think. The phone was ringing. Don't think. The phone kept ringing. He had his eyes closed, his brow furrowed, trying not to think because he knew he wasn't ready to appreciate his nerve at the moment. And he was NOT prepared for the breathy voice he just heard answer the phone. Scully? he queried. That sleepy sexy voice threw him off guard. A pause. Then he realized he hadn't spoken yet. "Scully?" Did his voice just squeak? Okay, Mulder, you're doing it, be normal. "Scully, it's me." He heard her low and incredibly sexy voice remind him of the hour. Heard her rustle in the sheets. Oh my god. He felt a stirring in his loins. Focus. "I'm sorry to be calling you this late. Something has just come up, something really important. I need your help." Oh, jesus, if she only knew the literal truth behind those words. "I need you to meet me somewhere." When? "Now." He heard the concern in her voice, and he knew he had to somehow let her know it wasn't a life threatening situation. He tried to tell her that much, but not more. Skip the details, Mulder. Give her the address. Singular purpose. The singular purpose of this phone call is to get her there. Don't say too much. He heard her repeat the address back to him. "Yes." Okay, done. Before he could change his mind, he hung up the phone. Scully, what am I doing? Knowing there was no turning back, the events were set in motion, he grabbed his coat - black, to make him less obvious - and set out for 431 King Drive. * * * He drove quickly. He knew that he would have approximately twenty minutes before she would arrive, judging the distance from her apartment. He pulled up in front of the house and got of his car. He took long strides to get to the front door. He unlocked it and stepped inside. He remembered this house very well, as he had visited it many times when he was younger. It was a handsome house. Perfectly furnished, old without being unwelcoming. It had a faint musty smell from non-use. He considered his options, glancing at his watch. Should he wait for her downstairs? It was so well lit in here that it just didn't *feel* right. He quickly climbed the stairs to the bedrooms. He opened one of the doors and stepped inside. The light in here was perfect. It almost hid him. He hoped that she would understand why he needed to surprise her. He needed to throw her off guard. He had to trust her intuition, and hoped it was strong enough to know it was him without seeing him. Maybe this was because he was a coward. But right now he was convinced it was the only way. He glanced down at his watch and realized it was too dark to see the time. He had a feeling that she would be there any minute. He rested his back against the wall by the door. As he tried to meditate, to ground his feet so he wouldn't run, he heard her voice. Calling his name. Should he answer? His mouth was paralyzed. Stick to the plan, Mulder. He heard her steps out on the porch and the front door, creaking as she pushed it open. Good, she came inside. He heard her say his name again, this time more of a question. Heard more footsteps. He was losing confidence. Mulder was now telling himself that he was making the biggest mistake of his life. Too late now. He heard her coming up the stairs. Her steps creaking the wood floors beneath her. The steps were getting closer. He closed his eyes and silently drew in his breath. And waited. Then, her voice was there. His name again. Scully was within his reach, and she did not see him, standing there. Don't think. He could faintly see her, the outline of her profile, her hands down at her sides, he could hear her breathing. What pushed him over the edge was her unmistakable smell. Not a perfume, but Scully. It drove him wild. Before he could consider his actions, he came up from behind her and pulled her to him, hard. Surprised at the urgency of his action, he backed himself to the wall as he felt her struggle against him. Please Scully, know its me. He thought but he didn't think. He felt. Right now there was no way he could speak, and when she began to say something, he clamped his hand over her mouth, not willing the intensity of this moment to be shattered by conversation. Please Scully, understand. For several moments, he stood there, feeling her against him, smelling her, needing her. He felt the warmth of her skin under his hand on her belly, and he began to stroke her there, touching her in a way he would have never dared before. Scully, it's me. As if on cue, he felt her push back against him, hard. His cock stirred, and his touching grew less gentle. She kept squirming, but not urgently, he noticed. His hand began exploring her more freely, aggressively, wanting to memorize her curves. He could feel her hot breath against his palm, and it was driving him wild. All at once, he wanted to explore every inch of her body; he could feel her nipples through her thin t-shirt, her lovely ass, her curvaceous hips. He could even feel the heat between her legs through her pants. She's wet. The thought invigorated him, and amazingly, he felt her pointing tongue lapping circles on his palm. He let out a low groan. She knows. His mouth dropped to her neck and sucked, hard enough to leave a bruise. Scully moaned as he licked the salt off her skin, tasted the delicious soft skin on her neck, skin that he had stared at for so many months, longing for its taste, its texture. Now needing his other hand to continue his exploration, he began to roll her hard nipples through her shirt, pinching her. Her breasts felt exquisite. He moved his right hand down to her pelvic bone, pressing circles into her skin, and pushed too long fingers downward, so he could feel her center through her damp clothes, so she could feel his hand, slipping into her folds. She was gone. Abruptly his reality shifted, and he was looking at a gun, pointed directly at his chest. He could barely see her, but he could tell, she was confused. Fuck. Didn't she know this was him? What the hell is going on? His arousal was still clouding his mind as he slowly raised his hands to the surrender position. She was speaking to him. Like a stranger. He wanted to scream, but couldn't as she told him to keep his hands up and move towards the window. He did as he was told, wanting to turn away and run, feeling like a total coward. Her voice was loud. Urgent. "Now listen to me, closely. I want you to turn around, slowly, when I count to three." Mulder had never felt so goddamn stupid in his life. He had heard her command others like this. Not him. Didn't she know? Why would she let a stranger to what he did to her minutes ago? Why HAD he done that to her? He suddenly felt horrible. Embarrassed. He shook his head no to her order. That clearly infuriated her, as her gun was now pushing into his back, warning him to not fuck with her. He had no choice. Not willing to look her in the eyes, a true coward now, Mulder turned, slowly, head bent, to face Scully. He heard her shriek his name. Heard her gun hit the floor. Without thinking, he opened his eyes to face her fury just in time to see her fist coming towards him with rapid speed. With amazing force she hit him square in the nose, the pain knocking the wind out of him, and he had to hold on to something to brace himself against the shock. He could feel blood oozing out of his nose. He didn't care. "YOU SON OF A BITCH WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?" the words rushed into Mulder's consciousness but were not allowed to settle as he saw a flash of fists and red hair pummeling into him, really hurting him. He tried to react, ward off her punches to no avail. She hates me. This thought was even more painful to him than her assault, and with the third punch in his gut he lost balance, and somehow they both tumbled to the floor. She was now slapping him, this was such a blur to him, he couldn't register anything until he felt a fist barely miss his most intimate parts, and the gears of self-preservation kicked in. That was it. Quickly Mulder realized that if he was going to get out of this alive, he had to restrain her. He quickly pinned her frantic body underneath his arms and knees. She kept trying to struggle but he had her trapped. "SCULLY." His loud voice was trying to break through to her. Stop this, Scully. Understand. He then saw her face for the first time. She was furious, her mouth tight, her eyes glaring at him, squinting. Oh God, Scully. How can you look at me like that? Each breath he took hurt, not because of the bruised ribs, but because of the way she was looking at him. Please, Scully, understand. "SCULLY." It was all he could say. He closed his eyes and tried to reassure himself that he had not just ruined the best thing in his life. What was he thinking, taking her by surprise like this? It was so fucking unfair to her, just some horny bastard's fantasy. Behind his lids he tried to remember what she looked like when she smiled, what she looked like when he made her laugh. He wanted to cry. No, he wanted to die if he just lost that. "Scully." His eyes opened to look down at her. Her face outlined by the moonlight, her blue eyes staring at him. Not glaring any more, more... inquisitive. He found himself amazed at how beautiful she looked, and amazed at how much he wanted her. God, he wanted this woman more than air. As his eyes locked onto hers, he noticed a faint flush spread across her cheeks. Her lips pursed, her eyes changing. He could feel her try to move, but he was afraid to let her go. He could hear their breathing; he could feel the heat of his desire, spreading up his neck. Suddenly, he felt Scully's mouth on him, face straining to... bite him? He grimaced a little, expecting more pain. Then he felt it. Oh god, her tongue. She was licking him, tracing his lips, slowly. He barely opened his eyes when he felt her lapping at the blood under his nose. It was the most erotic image he had ever seen, her tongue, the blood on her tongue. The blood she spilled. His knees slipped off her body and onto the floor. He kept his grasp on her wrists, still not sure she would stay with him if he let her go. He sucked in a deep breath to keep from passing out, and then her mouth was on his, her tongue was in his mouth, swirling deliciously, and then she was sucking his tongue, and that awakened him. He had to fill her wet hot mouth with his tongue, pushing; he wanted to crawl into her mouth, never leave. He kept his eyes open to watch her; he couldn't believe this was happening. She kept her eyes closed as she furiously kissed him. He could see her jaw opening, the muscles in her face pulling, her eyebrows arching and she was the most beautiful woman in the world, right then. He pressed his face harder into hers, and seeing how his slight beard was rubbing her red, he feared that he was hurting her. Suddenly, Mulder pulled back, gasping, mouth wet and open to look into her eyes again, to read her. Her mouth was still fully open from the kiss. She made no move to close it. Scully looked at him with an intensity he couldn't believe she had within her. He groaned and he blushed a little to wonder if he was the cause of this intensity. At that point, Mulder knew that this night was hers to define. He accepted that, and he tried to convey the message to her with his eyes. She ordered him to let her sit up, and he obeyed. Sitting there, he tried to absorb every second of this sexual heat around them. He wanted to remember this moment. He wanted to remember every detail - the feel of the night air around them. The way her eyes looked at him, and the way that neither of them could catch their breaths. Her small hands slid under his jacket and it fell to the floor. With both hands on his chest, she then pushed him to his back, and he watched as she straddled him on her knees, looking down into him with burning eyes. His cock stirred, and he felt the pain as it pressed against his tight jeans. God, he wanted her, wanted to be in her, wanted to take her. He kept looking at her, feeling her slightly brush up against his hardness, and then leave him longing for her. She was tormenting him, and he accepted that. Mulder watched as Scully's fingers played along the lines of his face, her gaze intent on watching him, almost as if she was studying something for the first time. Her expression conveying her concentration, she slipped a finger into his mouth, and he gladly sucked it, to have some part of her in him. When she put two fingers into his mouth, he sucked even harder, only to have her take them out and wipe his saliva on his face, slowly, deliberately. It was exquisite, what she was doing to him. Within seconds, Scully ripped his shirt down the middle, exposing his chest. He felt shy in her obvious appreciation of what she saw, and he bent his head back as he felt her glorious red hair tickling his chest. He groaned and stirred as she licked him, sucked his nipples, bit him. He watched her as she impatiently removed her shirt, and had a flash of her glorious breasts as she pressed her skin into his, and the way she felt against him, he couldn't believe it was the first time. Gathering courage, Mulder moved his hand to lightly press the small of her back. He couldn't bear it if she lifted her weight from him. He could feel her, moving her wet center onto him, driving him wild. He opened his eyes and saw her wonderful breast dangling in front of him, waiting. He took her delicate nipple into his mouth, felt her squirm a little, and then wanting to taste her, sucked hungrily. The sound of it made him even more erect, the sound of him suckling her. Then the sound of her low, beautiful voice, moaning. Suddenly, his mouth was empty, and he watched Scully stand up, pulling off the rest of her clothes, her body above him, completely naked. He sucked in his breath, the sight of her in the moonlight was unbelievable. It was better than a dream. This couldn't be happening. Scully looked down at him intensely. Then he was looking up into her wet curls, she was kneeling with his face between her knees. Jesus Christ. Mulder could see her hot wet center - he could smell her sex, and he had to taste it. Please, Scully. He licked his lips in anticipation. She pulled herself open to him, lowered, and balanced herself on her hands as his tongue lapped at her, tasting her flavor; it was so wonderful, the taste of her, the hotness of her on his tongue. He moved to grab her ass, so he could get more of his tongue into her. He sucked her clit, licked her clit, moved his face from side to side, spreading her juices all over him. Then, his tongue circled inside her, felt her tight hole, licked the entry. He needed more. He needed her to sit on him, as he pulled her down even further, his tongue went deeper, and she was losing control. She was swirling around him: he licked, sucked, in and out, almost drinking her now and as he felt her tremor, twitching under his tongue. He moved her ass even more, spreading her cheeks as he continued, and she screamed something, tried to pull up as she contracted, and he waited. One second. And then pulled her down to his face, and sucked again. Her clit in his mouth. He sucked harder than the first time. She climaxed again, pulsating on his tongue, breathing, gasping, and collapsed on him, her back on his belly, her eyes wildly fixed on the ceiling. She was completely out of breath. He did not move his eyes from her hot wet center, his perfect view. Mulder's arousal was so painful now, but he didn't care. The pain was good. He could lie here forever, with the taste of her on his tongue, her wetness on his cheeks. The knowledge that he had made her come, so intensely, could be enough for a lifetime. But then Mulder felt her move, her breasts now pressing into his belly, her fingers running down his erection through the coarse denim of his Levi's. "Jeeeesus," he whimpered. It was too fucking much. But not enough. Then she was pulling his jeans off of him, and he felt his cock spring out from the folds of restraint, urging, twitching, swollen with his arousal. He heard her make a slight clicking noise, as she touched the moist tip of him, rubbing his tip with her finger, in circles.... Just before he lost consciousness entirely, he saw her sweet face turn, take her fingers with his cum still on them, and lick them, looking into his eyes. He stopped breathing as her now wet fingers ran up and down his length, no woman had ever felt so good, just touching him. He closed his eyes, curling his hands into fists. Then his tip was in Scully's hot mouth, he heard her sucking lightly, and he felt his cock lengthen, straining to fill her. Mulder looked up and saw her take him completely in her mouth, his entire cock surrounded by her, and he couldn't bear it. Her warm mouth around him. His hands flew to the sides of her head, pressing into her, he wanted to thrust violently into her throat, but didn't want to hurt her. He felt himself trying to spread his legs more fully, his boxers and jeans trapping him. Scully's mouth, jesus, it was moving up and down on his length, faster, faster until he couldn't help it and started thrusting, thinking how sorry he was as he lost control. Bumping into the back of her throat. She didn't seem to mind, as she went even faster, and then he burst, he thrust one last time as he released a flood of warmth, almost hearing her gargle him, his seed running out of her mouth and down his cock. The only sound interrupting the silence was his rapid breathing, as she sat up and looked at him. Scully's face glistened with him, her mouth wet, slack, her breathing low. Mulder regained some composure and sat up, wanting to lick his stickiness off her beautiful face. He needed to touch her gently, to hold her for the first time, to cradle her. To love her. He could feel her relax against him, just a little, and he ran his hands over her small, beautiful body, this body that was still so new to him. He took her face into his hands, and kissed her, licked her, his tongue gently moving in her mouth. They kissed endlessly. Mulder lost track of time. He opened his eyes and saw her staring at him, her eyes still filled with longing, needing more. He felt her legs grip him more firmly, and amazingly his cock was getting hard again. He had to have her again, right then. Placing his hands on her hips, he lifted her up, and she understood. He felt her hands grasp him and lead him inside her. Mulder threw his head back and moaned as he felt her engulfing his length, his entire cock was IN Scully. She was tight and wet, and he could hear her low moan. He couldn't bear it anymore and he picked her up the length of him, and sliding her down, over and over, they were groaning, her wetness was driving him insane; he moved slightly so his cock rubbed against her clit, and her eyes flew open with the sudden sensation. They looked at each other intensely as he moved her faster and faster, her eyes getting wilder and their sex getting wetter, louder. He felt her grow tight, so tight he thought he couldn't stay in her and she shuddered, convulsing around the length of him. She said his name over and over as she came. Their gaze was still unbroken. Then Mulder lost it completely, and slammed Scully on her back in front of him, needing more of her body. He pulled her legs up over his shoulders to widen her, open her, and slammed his dick into her, moaning loudly, thrusting harder than he thought possible, hurting her, even. Just when he thought he was going to split her in two, he shattered, releasing, spilling over into her, and felt her walls contract again, as she bit her lip to muffle another scream, her legs tightening around his shoulders. They collapsed. Mulder slowly slipped out of her, reluctant to leave her body. Scully pushed him off her, lightly. But he couldn't let her go. He had to keep touching her and held her arm across his chest, his heart pounding against her wrist. Feel it Scully. Feel what you do to me. For the first time he felt the pain sear through his chest, his ribs, his face, burning from her previous anger. Now I don't care if I die, he thought, as his eyes looked over at Scully, beautiful, beautiful Scully. Her eyes were half open, and she looked sultry. He felt tired, taking labored breaths, feeling his eyes grow sleepy. I'll just rest my eyes for a minute, and then hold her in my arms. Just for a minute, he thought as he lost consciousness. Later, Mulder woke up with a pounding headache. He opened his eyes slowly, not sure where he was. He was on the floor in a very dark room. He sat up, pain shooting down his back. Remembering where he was, and what he was doing there, he looked for her. "Scully?" His voice croaked, knowing that she had left him. A sudden wave of pain washed over him, and he felt so utterly alone in that moment. God, he needed her there with him. He wanted to see her, to know she was okay. To know it wasn't all a dream. "I can't lose you Scully." He said it to the dark. Mulder was more afraid than he had ever been in his entire life. Tears came pouring from his eyes, spilling onto his chest, he buried his face in his hands. "Scully." He repeated her name, over and over. Painfully, he stood up, not even appreciating the sex that was still on his skin. He wanted her with him, but knew he had to go home. He had to put his clothes on and leave, and think. He had to think of what to do next...and hope to god she missed him as much as he missed her. When he finally made his way back into the car, he drove endlessly. Several times he passed by her building. Wondering if she was asleep. Was his scent still on her? He would have given anything to hold her right now, but he knew he couldn't. Reluctantly, he pulled into his complex, and found his way back into his lonely apartment. He crawled onto his couch, and closed his eyes, trying to pick one moment, one moment to play over and over again in his mind. Her face cradled in the palms of his hands. Her eyes looking at him tenderly, lovingly. Her mouth slightly open as he slowly began to kiss her lips, feel her tongue move under his. Mulder felt the tears come again, just as he drifted back to a restless sleep. End of Unknown II