Title:  What We Talk About When We Talk About Love
Author:  Jenna Tooms
Email: jenna@exeter.simplenet.com
Category:  MSR
Keywords:  Not so much angst as vague dissatisfaction.
Spoilers:  Ha!
Rating:  NC-17 for sex 'n' swearing
Disclaimer:  Like we'd see anything like this from 1013.  The title is
Raymond Carver's.  All the good ones are taken.
Summary:  Scully is not having a good night.

An love offering for Terma's food fetish.  This one's for you, Sharon.

 What We Talk About When We Talk About Love
 with apologies to Raymond Carver

 He stroked within her slowly, the arm that supported him shaking.  His
entire body was shaking, in fact, and Scully thought he was keeping
himself from coming by willpower alone.  His other hand was between her
legs, rubbing and squeezing her swollen clit in what Scully was
increasingly convinced was a futile effort.  Sex with Mulder was,
normally, very good-very, very good-but sometimes it just . . . wasn't. 

 Looked like tonight was going to be one of those times, and the truth was
she didn't have the energy to fake it, even for his ego. 

 "Mulder," she said against her folded arms.  Her voice sounded weary and
rough. 

 "Maybe if you were on top-" 

"Go ahead and come, Mulder." 

He kissed the back of her neck.  "You can do it, baby," he said into her
ear, and for that alone she wanted to elbow him in the ribs. 

 She unfolded her arms and hauled herself up, hanging onto the headboard. 
Mulder made a muffled, surprised sound, and clasped her around the waist,
and his breath was hot and harsh against her ear as she ground her hips
down against him.  She squeezed her inner muscles around his cock and he
barely moved except to pull her closer. 

 It was just too fucking hot for this.  That was the problem.  She was too
hot and hadn't slept well for days and Mulder was just so . . . Mulder,
she could barely stand to touch him.  She should have said no when he came
prowling into her hotel room earlier, she should have given him her best
no-nonsense look and told him to go to bed.  His own bed. 

 But no. 

 Sometimes it was her idea, she could admit that.  The first time had been
her idea, and that had been so good, so satisfying, so loving and tender
and hot that she'd thought she'd never want to stop fucking Mulder. 

 So . . . now she knew better. 

 He had one arm across her shoulders, and the other around her waist, his
big hand spread over her belly.  He made helpless, wounded sounds low in
his throat, and he shuddered behind her.  "Scu-Scu-Scu-" he panted.  His
hand closed clumsily around her breast. 

 She thought a blowjob would probably satisfy him, but the last thing she
wanted was his lap in her face.  God-how long at they been at this?  It
felt like hours. 

 He surged up behind her, shuddering, his hips swift beneath her thighs. 
He kissed over her shoulders and bit the back of her neck, and
finally-finally!-groaned and thrust into her until he came to a jerky and
exhausted stop. 

 If he thought she was going to want to cuddle after this . . . 

 Apparently his radar was not entirely useless, because he let her go and
flopped onto the bed.  "I'm sorry," he said quietly.  "I'm sorry, Scully." 

 "Not your fault," she muttered, laying down despondently beside him. 
"Sometimes it just doesn't work, that's all." 

 "Are you okay?  Do you feel sick?" 

 "No.  No, I'm not sick, and no, I'm not okay." 

 After a moment he turned onto his stomach and gently put his hand on her
thigh.  "Maybe Dr. Love can make it all better," he said softly, and
started to lift her leg over his shoulder. 

 "Oh, quit it," Scully said, giving his shoulders a shove.  She pulled
herself away from him and got off the bed, trying to ignore his hurt
expression.  She dug through her suitcase and plucked out her one casual
outfit, jeans and a grey v-neck t-shirt.  "I'm going for a walk." 

 "Scully, it's two in the morning and this is not the safest
neighborhood." 

 "I'll bring my gun." 

 "Wearing that?  I'll come with you." 

 "I'd really rather be alone right now." 

 But he was already up, and he went into his room through the connecting
door.  A door which they hadn't locked for years and which she was
beginning to think maybe, sometimes, they should.  She could hear him
shuffle around, getting dressed.  It occurred to her that she could leave
without him, just walk out and shut the door.  She waited. 

 In a few minutes he reappeared in jeans and a black t-shirt and his
fashionably sturdy work boots. He looked good enough to eat, but she just
wasn't in the mood.  "Ready?" 

 "Yeah."  He held open the door for her, and she went out. 

 With her hands shoved in her back pockets, Scully walked beside Mulder
down the dark and littered sidewalk.  This really was too fucking surreal. 
They fucked and now they were going for a walk.  What heading in the
relationship handbook did this come under? 

 "Watch for that glass there," he said, pulling her gently by the elbow
around the offending debris. 

 "I'm wearing shoes, dammit," Scully said, but stepped aside anyway.  His
hand dropped from her arm and he sighed.  The glass crunched beneath their
feet. 

 Loving Mulder was the kind of thing they should print handbooks for, she
thought.  Though it would probably be as incomprehensible as VCR
instructions and come in as many languages.  And it would need diagrams,
she thought, and smiled despite herself.  Each erogenous zone neatly
labeled. 

 She ran her hand through her hair and glanced at Mulder, who was looking
at his feet as they walked.  He loves me, she thought, and the thought
still filled her with wonder.  He loves me, I love him, so why do we fight
like this?  Though she knew this really wasn't fighting.  She was just
angry, and she didn't know why. 

 "Hey, are you hungry?"  he said. 

 "Not really," she said, and then her stomach grumbled and he grinned at
her. 

 "Come on.  I'll buy you a cup of coffee."  He took her hand loosely. 

 There was a diner on the corner of the bock, where they'd had breakfast
that morning.  The waitress smiled at them.  "Y'all sit down, I'll be with
you in a jiff," she said. 

 They slid into a booth and Mulder teased her foot with his.  "So," he
said. 

 "Don't ask me what's wrong because I really don't know." 

 "Just not a good day for you, huh?" 

 She sighed and leaned her head on her hand. 

 "Look."  He reached across the table to touch her cheek.  "The last thing
I want to do is add another item to your list of frustrations." 

 "Most of the time you don't, you know," she said, taking his hand. 

 "But . . ." he prompted. 

 "I don't know, Mulder." 

 He sighed, and rubbed the inside of her wrist with his thumb.  "It's not
enough anymore, is it," he said.  "To just love each other, it's not
enough." 

 "I'm not sure I understand what you mean." 

 "Being in love hasn't really changed anything.  Except that we sleep
together now," he added with a tiny grin, and she had to return it.  "But
it hasn't necessarily improved things." 

 "Sleeping together is not that bad." 

 "But it's not that good, apparently." 

 "Only sometimes." 

 He looked pained.  "How often is 'sometimes'?" 

 "Not that often.  This is only, like, the third time it hasn't been good
for me." 

 "Third?" he exclaimed with dismay, and of course the waitress chose that
moment to take their orders.  She backpedaled so fast she bumped into a
stool at the counter.  Scully pressed her lips together and looked out the
window at the dark street.  There was a young couple, no more than
teenagers, kissing in a pool of light from a street lamp.  She smiled
despite herself.  How would it be, to be that unconcerned and careless? 
She didn't even dare hold Mulder's hand in public. 

 "Why didn't you tell me before?  We could figure out what I'm doing
wrong." 

 "There didn't seem a point to telling you, and it's not necessarily you. 
It's me." 

 He stared at her, puzzling, and the waitress must have decided it was
safe to intrude and come over to their table again.  "What can I get for
y'all tonight?" she said. 

 "Coffee," Scully said. 

 "Coke and a burger," Mulder said. 

 "Lemonade," Scully said, and at the look Mulder gave her she added, "and
a burger." 

 "Onion rings, fries, or cole slaw?" 

 "Onion rings," Mulder said. 

 "Do you have fried cheese?"  Scully said, and for some reason Mulder
found that extremely funny.  Hell, if she was going to eat a burger at two
in the morning she was going to go all out. 

 "We've got fried cheese with red sauce, and we've got french fries with
cheese melted over them." 

 "The fried cheese, please."  She said to Mulder, "Do you want to split a
salad?" 

 "Sure." 

 "And a green salad with house dressing.  On the side," she added, and
Mulder nodded his thanks.  For some reason he didn't eat salad dressing. 
He'd never told her why. 

 "Do you have pie?" he said. 

 "Blueberry, strawberry, apple, pumpkin, chocolate and banana cream." 

 "Strawberry," Mulder said. 

 "Chocolate," Scully said.  "And whipped cream, if you have it." 

 "I'll have whipped cream, too.  If you have it." 

 The waitress nodded, writing quickly on her little pad. 

 "And I think I'll have an order of fried cheese too.  Along with the
onion rings," Mulder said. 

 "Y'all miss dinner tonight?" the waitress said. 

 "Did we have dinner tonight?"  Mulder said, and Scully shook her head. 

 "Just the doughnuts." 

 "Oh, yeah.  Two stale doughnuts that we bought yesterday in Price." 

 The waitress nodded in sympathy.  "Shouldn't be more than a few minutes," 
she said, and walked back to the kitchen. 

 Mulder got his wallet out of his back pocket and checked his cash supply. 
"We'll need to stop at an ATM tomorrow.  This is going to clean me out." 

 "If I'd known we were going to eat something I'd have brought my purse." 

 "Nah, it's my treat.  It's okay." 

 "We could take back the pie." 

 "No, I want the pie." 

 He was still holding her hand.  His fingertips were warm and faintly
calloused.  She'd always loved his hands, she loved to kiss his palms and
suck on his fingers, but now she only watched his fingers gently trace the
lines on her palm and the veins on her wrist.  She said, "I don't need the
pie.  We probably shouldn't eat this much so late at night." 

 "Oh, Scully.  I just want to be bad."  He grinned at her.  "We can go
running in the morning.  Or did you bring your suit?  There's always the
pool." 

 "I brought my suit."  If this heat kept up the pool would be very
tempting. 

 "So we'll keep the pie." 

 "Okay.  We'll keep the pie." 

 For a few minutes he watched his fingers playing over her hand, and he
said quietly, "So, you were saying.  It's you." 

 "As far as I can figure."  She'd hoped he would forget their prior
conversation, but no such luck.  "You do everything right, you really do. 
It's just . . . sometimes . . ." 

 "Not enough." 

 "No, not exactly." 

 "Then what is it?" 

 "I don't know." 

 Mulder sighed.  "I want you to be happy," he said quietly.  "I'll do
whatever I can to make you happy." 

 "I know." 

 "But you've got to tell me, you know.  You've got to let me know how,
because I'm trying everything I know and it's not working." 

 She closed her fingers on his hand and looked out the window again.  The
teenagers were still there, kissing like something out of a soap opera. 
She wished them luck, she really did. 

 "It's not you," she said again, and he sighed. 

 "Dana," he said, and she met his eyes in surprise.  This was serious.  "I
love you so much," he said.  "What can I do to make you happy?" 

 "I don't know.  I don't know if there's anything you can do."  She
pressed her free hand to her chest.  "I want so much to be normal and
happy and-" 

 "What makes you think that happiness is normal?" 

 "It seems to be a standardized goal.  I want to be happy.  I want to be
happy with you.  But I'm not happy and knowing it makes me feel worse and
I . . . just . . ."  She sighed. 

 "Scully.  Sweetheart.  Look.  You don't need to force yourself into some
sort of artificial expectation just because of me, because you think
that's what I expect from you.  You can say no to me, you know." 

 "I know." 

 "So why didn't you tonight?  I mean, if you weren't in the mood you
should have said something.  I promise you I'd be okay." 

 "Would you?"  She studied his face.  "You wouldn't take it as a personal
rejection?" 

 "I wouldn't.  I'd take it in the spirit in which it is intended." 

 "Okay, tell me something, then.  How come you've never said no to me?" 

 He grinned for a moment, and said with mock seriousness, "The occasion
has not yet arisen in which I wanted to say no.  You, my love, always have
perfect timing.  I, unfortunately, am still learning." 

 "It is kind of easy to tell when you need me," she said softly. 

 "Twenty-four seven," he said. 

 The waitress came back with an armload of plates.  Burgers, baskets of
fried cheese, glasses filled with ice and soda, salad, the little bowls
with dressing and marinara sauce.  They thanked her and she smiled at them
again, and retreated to the other side of the diner. 

 Scully regarded her food with some dismay.  She was hungry but this
seemed like just too much.  And she had to let go of his hand to let him
eat. 

 She poured some dressing on her portion of the salad and ate a few bites,
watching Mulder pop mustard-covered onion rings into his mouth.  He
considered the hamburger a form of art, and spent not a few minutes
assembling the toppings the way he wanted, so that every bite had equal
portions of tomato and pickle, before shaking on the ketchup and mustard. 
He took a bite and smiled at her beatifically. 

 "So," she said, "twenty-four seven, huh?" 

 He chewed and swallowed as she nibbled on a stick of fried cheese.  He
reached over and wiped a dab of marinara sauce from the corner of her
mouth.  "Pretty much, yeah.  Even just to hold you, sometimes." 

 "So, if, say, earlier tonight I had said I wasn't in the mood, what would
you have done?" 

 "I would have said, may I please just sleep with you, and hold you,
because you make the demons go away," he said softly.  "I sleep better
when you're around." 

 Scully sighed, smiling at him.  "What am I going to do with you?" 

 "Love me, I hope." 

 "Aside from that." 

 "I don't know.  We'll just have to figure it out as we go."  He bit off
the end of the cheese stick she held out for him, and kissed her
fingertip. 

 They ate slowly, savoring each bite.  The burgers tasted grilled, the
salad was crisp, the whipped cream was fresh on the pie.  He gave her
bites of his strawberry and she fed him her chocolate.  When their plates
were empty Scully sat back against the booth chair and sighed in
satisfaction.  "That's much better," she said. 

 "Do you have a happy tummy now?" 

 "A very happy tummy," she said, smiling. 

 "Remind me to keep you fed, it improves your disposition so much." 

 "Maybe we should have asked for the pie to go.  Or at least the whipped
cream," Scully said, quirking her eyebrow at him, and his eyes got very
wide. 

 "Don't tease me, Scully, it's not nice." 

 "Who said I'm teasing?" 

 "Scully?" 

 "Let's go back to the hotel, Mulder."  She took his hand again and
pressed her thumb in the center of his palm.  He grinned and took out his
wallet, lay twenty-five dollars on the table and slid out of the booth. 
The waitress waved to them cheerfully as they walked out. 

 "Now, Scully," he said as they walked up the block again, "I'm not making
any assumptions, okay?  If all you want to do is sleep that's okay." 

 "We'll see," Scully said, slipping her arm around his waist.  He smelled
good, she thought as she pressed her nose against his chest.  He smelled
good and she could bet he tasted good too, and she stood upon her toes and
licked his neck.  Yep.  Tasted good.  Salty and spicy and still vaguely
like sex. 

 Mulder rumbled in his chest and tightened his arm around her shoulders. 
"I think that breaks your 'no public displays of affection' rule." 

 "Rule?  I have a rule?" Scully said, pulling him into the pool of light
from the nearest street lamp.  "Kiss me right here, Mulder." 

 "Right here?"  He stepped aside, pulling her by the hands.  "Or can I
kiss you here?" 

 "Mulder . . ." 

 "Where's the best place, you think, to kiss you?"  He kissed her neck. 
"Here?"  He kissed her temple.  "Or here?" 

 "Here," she said, grabbing his face, and she kissed him so deeply she
could taste the strawberry seeds on his molars.  His arms wrapped around
her, lifting her up so she didn't have to reach so high.  They kissed and
kissed in the pale amber light, and broke apart, giggling. 

 "Rules?"  Mulder said. 

 "No rules."  The sidewalk beneath her feet again, she grabbed Mulder by
the belt loops and pulled him to her.  "You have some unfinished business
to attend to, secret agent lover man." 

 "Yes ma'am," he said in a breathless voice, and they held hands as they
ran back to the hotel room. 

 So, she couldn't say why she felt better.  She just did. 

 She sat on the edge of the bed, folding up her legs, and ordered, "Take
off your shirt, Mulder." 

 Mulder raised an eyebrow at her and stripped off his t-shirt, and Scully
reached for him and played her fingers down his chest and over his
stomach.  He watched her touch him through lowered eyelids, and heaved a
large shuddering sigh as she unbuttoned the fly on his jeans.  She glanced
up at him, smiling.  "Glad to see you had some time to recover." 

 "All it takes is time and the proper-ooh-motivation." 

 "Good to know," she whispered, tonguing his navel gently, and Mulder
grasped her head and gently pushed her away. 

 "Unfinished business," he admonished, and knelt down in front of her.  He
kissed her neck, cupping her breast through her t-shirt.  He kissed down
her chest to her breast, which he kissed gently and took into his mouth. 
He sucked her through the cotton, and stopped and looked up at her.  "It's
making my mouth really dry," he said apologetically, and lifted her
t-shirt up over her head. 

 "That's better," Scully breathed as he took her breast into his mouth
again.  "Oh god . . . is it ever."  She unfolded her legs to wrap them
around him, and kissed the top of his head, folding her arms loosely
around his neck.  If he wanted to just do this all night she would not
object. 

 No, that wasn't quite true.  She could think of quite a few things she
wanted him to do. 

 He had the right idea-he was already unbuttoning her jeans, running his
hands over her stomach, kneading her thighs, all the while sucking her
breasts gently.  She lifted her hips so he could pull off her jeans, and
he smiled with approval that she'd skimped on such frivolities as
underwear. 

 "I know what you want," he crooned, kissing her stomach.  "I know what
will be really good for you." 

 "Mmm," Scully sighed, lying back, and she stroked her hands through his
hair as he kissed her inner thighs.  She sighed as he blew air over her
clit, and whimpered as his tongue touched her.  She'd been teetering on
edge all night, and she thought it wouldn't take much of Mulder's magical
tongue to bring her over.  He licked her, eliciting soft moans and cries,
his hair soft between her thighs and his hands touching her gently
wherever he thought it would please her most.  He played with her nipples
and her toes, he kneaded her butt and nibbled on her thighs.  He trailed
wet kisses over her stomach as he fucked her with his long, slender
fingers.  Scully panted on his name, tugging and twisting her own nipples
and pushing her hips into his face.  She felt like her entire body was one
great throbbing mass of flesh, wanting and needing and hungering only for
one thing: for Mulder to make this throbbing stop. 

 At least he showed not signs of stopping until he was through. 

 She was so far gone she could barely get a coherent word out. 
"Muh-Muh-doh-deeper-please-" She ground her hips against his face, and her
heels drummed against his back.  He made happy, hungry sounds, humming as
if he'd never tasted anything so delicious as her pussy.  She smiled at
the thought-maybe he hadn't.  With his fingers stroking inside her and his
lips sucking her clit, she knew she'd never felt anything so delicious,
either. 
 All his attention focused on her pleasure.  All her senses tuned to one
very small part of her body.  He just-couldn't-stop-

 For a moment the world stopped, and then exploded into stars and
champagne and Mulder's big warm hand holding her to earth. 

 Eventually she opened her eyes.  Mulder had joined her on the bed and lay
with his head on her stomach, watching her.  He smiled when he saw she was
with him again.  "Better?" he said softly. 

 "Much," she said, and reached for him to pull him closer.  No way she was
sleeping without him tonight. 

End. 

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