TITLE:	 YEARNING
AUTHOR:     DONNILEE
E-MAIL:	 donnilee@snet.net.
RATING:     NC-17 Descriptive sex.
CATEGORY:   MSR /ANGST
WEB SITE:   http://donnilee.tripod.com
SUMMARY:    Sequel to "Y is for You."  It's the morning after - does she 
regret turning to Mulder for support?
SPOILERS:   Irresistible, Milagro, Duane Barry, Fire, The End, Sein Und 
Zeit, Anasazi, Triangle, Fight the Future
DISCLAIMER: Nope. Not mine. Used shamelessly and without 
remorse. They belong to Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen Productions and Fox 
Broadcasting. 
AUTHOR'S NOTE:  Takes place sometime during Season 7.  Requiem 
never happened.
DEDICATION:  Hmmm. Weeelll, let's see.  Orange Tabby Cat, 
Tanya and Song have all requested a sequel to "Y is for You".  So ladies,
this one is dedicated to you for your unwavering support and guidance.  
Thanks for sticking with me all this time!
SPECIAL THANKS:  To my wonderful beta reader, Sdani, who makes 
me look a lot better than I actually am!  Cyber air kisses, darling!  

PART 1 
DANA SCULLY'S APARTMENT
8:00 AM

I woke up to feel an expanse of warm chest behind me.  I startled a bit and 
then remembered last night as it all came rushing back to me.  I was laying 
in my bed, naked, with Mulder's lanky, warm limbs wrapped around my 
body from head to toe as he spooned me from behind.

It felt really good.

I was really quite embarrassed over how needy I had been in the last 48 
hours.  But Mulder didn't seem to mind.  In fact, he seemed to relish the 
opportunity to give me comfort and support.  Oh, I know he didn't enjoy 
my emotional pain.  But he had seemed almost ... grateful ... to be able to 
help me in some small way.

And he's been fabulous.  He'd held me when I cried ... several times.  He'd 
brought me home and drawn my bath and then carted me out of the 
bathroom when I had a meltdown after retreating from my bath.

I shivered as I remembered the feel of his long fingers tunneling through 
my hair and messaging my scalp as my hair had dried.  I'd drifted off to 
sleep wearing nothing but a towel.  It had seemed the most natural thing in 
the world at the time.

Odd thoughts had been chasing themselves around in my brain since we'd 
left my mother's house.  In between bouts of crying over the loss of my 
little brother, Mulder's confessions were haunting me.  He'd said I'd 
aroused him many times before.  I'd heard him confess his love for me to 
my mother.  And he'd made his odd admission about needing the sound of 
my voice in order to sleep well at night.  I'd been strangely pleased about 
that.

Grief took a toll on the physical body and I'd been exhausted.  Upon 
waking from my little three-hour power snooze last night I'd realized that I 
was wrapped firmly around Mulder.  My head had been lying on his chest 
and my leg had been between his legs.  Feigning sleep I had jostled my leg 
and heard him moan.  Chancing a look at his face, he had appeared to still 
be sleeping.  Of course he was fully clothed and I was merely wearing a towel.

I could feel the heat of his crotch right through his denim jeans.  I made a 
move to shift my weight so that I could then get out of bed.  It really had 
been an accident when I'd brushed my thigh harder against his crotch.  

The low-pitched moan that had erupted from the back of his throat then 
had stopped me in my tracks.  It could not be mistaken for anything but 
arousal.  His head had been tossed back on the pillow exposing his 
beautiful neck.  I'd felt a rush of excitement, knowing I'd turned him on.   
Without thinking about what his reaction might be, I'd rolled my hip 
against him and lifted myself 
on top of his body.

His erection had pressed firmly into my belly then and I'd felt my own 
crotch flood with warmth and wetness.  The rest, as they say, is history.

He'd given me release with his fingers and then made the sweetest love to 
me, slow and tender.  Just thinking about it gave me another, little shiver.  
He'd asked me if it was just a life affirmation thing motivating my desire 
to be with him.

It was partly that, but it was so much more and I could no longer deny it.  I 
wondered how he would be this morning.  Despite his declarations of love, 
I hoped fervently that he wouldn't think it was a mistake.  He had tried to 
stop me twice to make sure we weren't doing this for the wrong reasons.  
That had only made me love him more.

Love?  Yes, I was in love with my partner and had finally admitted that 
much.  He had admitted the same.  But were we ready for a physical 
relationship?  I chuckled internally thinking that seven years was a long 
time to date.

My chuckle awakened him and he snuggled closer, his arm tightening 
around my middle and pressing my back into his chest.  His nose was 
buried in my hair and he nuzzled my neck, planting little kisses on my 
hairline.

His voice was raspy and sleep laden when he murmured, "Morning."

"Morning.  I didn't mean to wake you," I said softly.

"That's O.K.  God, I slept good for a change."

"Well, I guess we're good for each other's sleep patterns if nothing else," I 
teased.

He stiffened behind me and backed up.  I froze until I felt him put his hand 
on my hip and roll me onto my back.  He stared into my face for long 
moments.  I furrowed my brow, silently asking him what the matter was.

"How are you this morning?" he asked quietly.

I shrugged.  "Torn."

"Torn?"  He paused, swallowing heavily.  Then he whispered.  "Please 
don't tell me that you think this was a mistake."

I smiled and shook my head in the negative.  Breath whooshed out of his 
lungs with a  sound of relief.  He met my gaze again and asked, "Then 
what's the matter?  What are you torn over?"

"On the one hand, I'm grieving my brother.  On the other hand, I'm feeling 
... almost exhilarated at finally being able to be with you.  I think I should 
feel guilty about feeling so good the morning after my brother's funeral."

He smiled gently.  "You're not feeling good about his death.  And I'm 
delighted that you are feeling good about ... US.  There's nothing to feel 
guilty about.  You've allowed yourself so little comfort in the past years."

"Yeah, well, I've made up for it in the last few days."

"Nonsense.  I was glad that you allowed me to be there for you."

"Allowed you?"

"Yes.  I've wanted to comfort you and help you a lot of times.  But you 
didn't welcome the attention."

"Force of habit.  I'm so used to trying not to show any weakness."

He grunted and then said, "Who made you think that showing emotions 
was weakness?"

The question came from out of the blue.  I was momentarily stunned.  We 
didn't usually talk about stuff like this. I guess we were going to start.

"I don't know if anyone taught it to me.  I just think that I knew 
instinctively that I was going into a career, two careers, medicine and the 
FBI, that were male dominated professions."

"And women are often accused of or seen as incapable if they show 
emotions?"

"Sure, you know that's true, Mulder.  We have to be twice as good to be 
thought of as half as good as our male counterparts."  I paused. 
"Fortunately, that's not difficult," I added.

He chuckled at my tease.  "Not difficult, huh?"

"Nope," I smiled broadly.

"You're trying to divert me from the subject, Ms. Scully."

"Am I?" I asked innocently.

"Yes you are.  And I perfectly understand your behavior at work.  I can 
almost physically see you pulling in on yourself when you're upset.  Never 
let them see you sweat seems to be your motto."

I nodded.  "And?"

"And so ... that's work."

"And your point, Mulder?"

"My point is why do you feel that you have to be that way in your 
personal life too?"

"I don't."

"Sure you do.  When have you ever let me comfort you just for the hell of 
it?  Before this week, that is," he added.

I swallowed and closed my eyes.  I was thinking of all the times he'd held 
me together, probably without even knowing it.  "Well, there was the time 
when I was attacked by Phaster and you came crashing in at the last 
moment, saving my ass.  I think that was the first time."

"Go on," he encouraged.

"Well, then there was the time that idiot writer was living next to you and 
ended up attacking me."

"And?"

"I don't know, Mulder!" I cried, frustrated that he was making me list 
them.

"The point is, Scully, that both those times and all the others were after an 
extremely traumatic experience that was because of work."

I looked at him and saw the hurt on his face.  "I'm sorry," I whispered.

"Don't be sorry.  I'm just saying that I want you to trust me enough to let 
me inside when you're hurting.  And I'm talking about your personal life, 
not just work related stuff."

"I do trust you."

"I finally believe that after the last couple of days.  But I didn't before that.  
And even now, you're obviously not comfortable with the fact that you let 
yourself need me."

I looked at him.  "I'm O.K. with it."

He smiled gently.  "You're embarrassed," he stated flatly.

"So?"

"So I don't want you to be.  I want you to feel that you can be the real 
Dana Scully with me ... no reservations, no embarrassment ... no 
reservations."

"I'm trying," I said.  And I meant it.  I really was trying.  I really wanted to 
give it all to Mulder.  But it scared the shit out of me.  He didn't scare me.  
Losing myself in him scared me.  I did need him and it scared me how 
much.  I wasn't used to relying on anyone that heavily.  I had spent a lot of 
years making sure that no one was the emotionally essential to my 
happiness.  Then along came Mulder.

"Good," he said finally.  "But Scully, ... can you trust me that much?"

I took a deep breath.  "I want to, Mulder."

"I'd never hurt you, Scully, not intentionally.  And I'd never use any 
personal knowledge you gave me against you.  You know that don't you?"

I sighed.  "Yes."  I decided I needed to be completely honest with him.  I 
wanted this to work more than I had ever wanted anything in my entire 
life.  I hadn't been kidding.  He was what was missing in my life.  Or, as I 
said last night, being intimate with him was what was missing in my life.  
I had forgotten how good it felt.  I'd forgotten how exciting physical 
intimacy could be.  But I'd been surprised at how safe I'd felt in his arms.

Yes, safe.  My God, I realized at that moment that this was something I'd 
never felt with any previous lover.  Safety.  I'd always lived in fear of 
them leaving.  I'd lived in fear of letting them down, or of them letting me 
down.  Not so with Mulder.  I knew he'd never leave me.  A huge part of 
our close friendship and trust hinged on the fact that I had never left.  Not 
voluntarily anyway.  I knew that amazed him sometimes.  He'd said so.  
Everyone in his past had left him.  First his sister, then Phoebe, then 
Diana, then his father, then his mother ... and the list went on.  He had no 
one left.  Except me, and I hadn't left.

"I know you'd never hurt me, Mulder.  And I need to let you know that ... I 
need you too, Mulder."

His eyes widened slightly at that admission.  A smile tugged at the corners 
of his mouth.  "Wow," he murmured, chuckling softly, sounding amazed.

I smiled at him and he returned it.  He leaned down and kissed me softly.  
His nose rooted in my hair and his mouth made it's way to my ear.  His hot 
breath cascaded down my neck when he spoke.  "I love you, Scully.  
You'll never know how much I need you.  I don't think I'd make it without 
you ... not anymore."

We hugged then and he rolled on top of me as I spread my legs to 
accommodate him.  I remembered the astonished look on his face last 
night when I'd told him that I loved him.  I wanted to see that smile again, 
the one filled with wonder and happiness.  I cupped his face in my hands.  
"I love you too, Mulder."

He smiled a toothy smile and just stared at me for several moments.  "I 
can't believe it," he said finally.

"Can't believe what?"

He shook his head, amused with himself.  "I just never thought I'd hear ..."

"Those words from me?" I asked gently.

He nodded.  "From anyone ever again ... but especially from you."

I pulled him down to me and kissed him again, this time asking for 
entrance with my tongue.  He moaned softly and opened for me.  Our 
tongues danced gently around one another as we shared a tender kiss filled 
with promise and gentle reassurance.

I felt him stiffen against me and my nipples tightened.  I whispered, 
"Make love to me again, Mulder."

He took my mouth again, this time more firmly and hitched up a bit with 
his legs.  One hand slid down to hold my hip. His fingers snaked between 
my legs and he swiped at my nether lips.  He grunted in surprise, finding 
me wet and swollen.  "Jesus, Scully."

He began rubbing gently with his fingers.  I urgently whispered, "Want to 
feel you inside again."

His hand moved back to my hip, tipping my pelvis up with a slight 
pressure and he slid inside in one smooth, unhurried stroke, filling me to 
the brim.  We moaned simultaneously at the sensation and went still, 
enjoying the feel of that first contact.  I clenched my muscles around him 
and he gasped, "Sweet, heaven!"

"Mmmm," was my intelligent response.

He began to move slowly, gliding in and out smoothly.  I heard myself 
making little noises of excitement in the back of my throat.  I couldn't help 
it.  By the look on his face, it excited him to hear it.  So unlike when I was 
with previous lovers, I didn't try to hold it in.  I let the sounds come.  
I'd never been vocal like this before.  I found that it was exciting to me as 
well, and very freeing at the same time.

The door swung both ways.  His shudders and groans were exciting to me 
too.  Knowing that being with me was the cause was doubly exciting.  
Mulder has a sexy voice on a bad day.  But when he's aroused ... Man!  
Look out!

Just the sound of his voice had shivers chasing themselves up and down 
my spine.  I felt my orgasm coiling low in my belly as my clitoris twinged 
with every stroke.  "Oh, you feel so good," I murmured.

"I never want to leave," he mumbled.

We both chuckled at that, but he never broke his rhythm.  "Faster," I 
coaxed, knowing it wouldn't take much to push me over the edge.

"I'm close, Scully.  Want you to come."

"I will, go faster and I will."

He sped up slightly and cried out.  His face twisted into a beautiful 
grimace of ecstasy. "Oh God!" he cried out again.

That was all it took.  As his eyes popped open and he shared his passion 
with me, that look sent me over the edge.  I could see it swirling in the 
depths of his ever-changing eyes.  My walls sputtered with waves of 
pleasure, gripping him as he hit me harder and his strokes became clumsy.  
He shouted and released into me a moment later, his hips shuddering 
against mine with the force of his orgasm.

He went boneless on top of me and I relished the heat of his slightly 
sweaty body.  He didn't stay that way for long, but lifted the weight of his 
torso onto his elbows.  He covered my mouth with his own again and 
kissed me, slow and languid, telling me without words, his appreciation 
for what we had just shared.  The feeling was mutual.

His nose found the crook in my neck where it meets my shoulder.  He 
seemed to like that place.  His voice was soft and low as he said; "I've 
been wanting this with you for so long, you'll never know, Scully."

"I think I do," I replied.

He lifted his head.  "I doubt it."

"Then tell me."

He sighed and pulled the covers over us as our skin cooled.  Once we 
settled, he caught my eyes again.  "I've been in love with you for a long 
time," he admitted.

I raised an eyebrow, asking how long.

"I knew it when Duane Barry took you."

I gasped.  My God.  That was five years ago.  I must have looked startled, 
because he nodded his head in the affirmative.  Do you know how long I 
spent ... wishing ... wanting ..."

"Oh Mulder.  I'm sorry it took me so long to realize that we could have 
this."

"I'm just sorry it took ... this ... to make it happen.  I kept thinking I would 
find the courage to tell you how I felt, but the time never seemed right.  
And the couple of times I tried, something always interfered."

"Like when?"

"Well, when I was recovering from the Bermuda Triangle incident, you 
didn't believe me."

"You were drugged!" I exclaimed.  

"I wasn't that drugged," he stated sincerely.

I frowned, lamenting all the time we'd wasted.

He continued, "Then there was that time in my hallway when that bee 
stung you."

I shook my head, hating to remember that time.  He'd saved me again from 
certain death.

"I always wondered if you would mention that again," I admitted.

He smiled gently.  "I've been five long years ... just ... yearning for you, 
Scully.  Hoping one day you'd let me in."

I hugged him tightly to my chest and whispered.  "You're in, Mulder.  And 
you'll never be out again.  I promise."

"Don't make promises you can't keep," he muttered, but he hugged me 
back just the same, despite the caution in his statement.

"I'm not.  You're not the only one that's been yearning, Mulder.  I have 
too.  I just couldn't figure out what the hell I was yearning for.  But now I 
know that it was you.  I scared myself.  I suddenly started wanting to 
touch you all the time.  I was just too stubborn to admit what was really 
going on.  I was admitting to myself that I'd fallen in love with you.  It 
happened a long time ago, Mulder, 
I just didn't want to admit it."

"Why?"

"Because I was scared."

"I love you, Scully.  And I'm so sorry about your brother."

I nodded, feeling tears sting my eyes at the thought of Charlie.  This was a 
bittersweet time.  I had one love taken away and one given to me.  But 
maybe that was the way it was supposed to be.  Maybe God waited until 
my need was great enough and then let me open the door to my heart.  
Whatever the reason or the circumstances, I knew I would never regret 
this.  Mulder was in my heart to stay.  "I love you too, Mulder."

"Shower?" he asked playfully.

I smiled.  "Join you?"

"I would hope so."

I kissed his nose and he crinkled it up.

"No more yearning, Mulder, for either one of us."

"No more yearning," he repeated.  "Does this mean I can just reach out 
and touch someone whenever I feel like it?" he teased.

I grinned.  "No someone, just me.  Let's get that clear right now."

"Couldn't be clearer," he quipped, but there were shades of meaning in his 
voice.

I smiled.  "Crystal clear, Mulder?"

"Crystal clear, Scully."

THE END.

NOTE:  Oh, another day, another biscuit.  Sorry this wasn't very long, but 
this just felt like the place to end it.