Title: You've Got the Look Author: abracadabra Email Address: abracadabra1754@hotmail.com Rating: NC-17 Category: Mulder/Scully Romance Disclaimer: No matter how I try, they are still not mine. Scully and Mulder probably still belong to Chris Carter, 1013 and Fox. Of course, Gillian Anderson and David Duchovny belong to themselves. Either way, I make no money off of writing about them. Summary: Loneliness, casual clothes, a definition and some smut. Spoilers: Late S7, Requiem has not happened. An existing relationship. Keywords: MSR Archive: Please do, but let me know where. Thanks: To Denise and Traci for reading and suggesting. Author's Notes: A light, tongue-in-cheek story, written for Kim, my friend, my beta and someone who loves this Mulder *look*. And, just for good measure, there are a few of her other favorite elements thrown in. You'll have to ask her what they are because my lips are sealed. Feedback: Would love it. |*|*|*| Fox Mulder's Apartment Friday Night, 7:00pm Listless. Lethargic. Lonely. Lazy. He could go on, but his string of alliterative words was becoming progressively negative. Loose-limbed. That was better. It didn't matter in the long run. There was only one cure for his condition and her name was Dana Katherine Scully. Damn, why had he tried so hard to convince her that he had 'plans'? When the hell was the last time he'd had any plans that didn't include her? And what had made her think he'd been serious? So many questions, so much time without her. He'd been home for two hours and what had he done, really? Managed to drink half a carton of almost past the freshness date OJ and kick off his shoes? Progress, thy name is Mulder. He kept his dress shirt. Oh, the tie had been gone on his way in the door and was now hanging unevenly on the coat rack, but the steel gray dress shirt had remained. Collar opened, top three buttons undone, sleeves pushed up over his elbows. Tails now haphazardly tucked into his trousers. Heading into the bedroom, he stumbled over his Cole-Haans, the toes of his socks catching on the tongue of the slip-on loafer. Cursing soundly, the doorframe managed to break his fall. By the time he reached his dresser, he'd wondered what he was looking for. It had been a long day; that's why he couldn't remember he rationalized as he removed his socks, leaving them on the edge of the bed. One last stop and his suit pants were replaced with his well-worn, button-front Levis. Moving aimlessly around that room in which he rarely slept unless Scully was here; he wondered where she was and why she wasn't at least calling to see what he was doing. Or calling to suggest he pick up some pizza and stop by? That had been their routine over the last several months and his precise and ordered partner was acting more like him -- imprecise and disordered. He stalked back into the living room, grabbing his glasses from the top drawer of his desk. Not even bothering to turn it to face the right way, he sat down in front of the computer, straddling the chair from behind. He logged on to his email account hoping to improve his official lack-of-Scully funk. No messages worth reading. Taking a deep breath and then sighing, he pushed the glasses back up onto the bridge of his nose and ran a hand through his hair. Not one to usually care much about the view from his window, he found himself staring through the glass, bored. The images outside the pane blurred through the for-reading-only glasses. And then the phone rang, startling him more than he cared to admit. Looking around to see where he'd last left the mobile unit, he located it buried under the last set of newspapers he'd had time to read. "Mulder" He felt some of his earlier edginess recede, her voice a soothing balm. "Sitting here wondering when you were going to call." Walking with the cordless phone, he moved over to the couch and then dropped down into it, head back on the armrest, bouncing once before he crossed his legs at his ankles. He smiled at her choice of words; everything revolved around planned order. Most of the time. He prided himself on having been able to jostle her just a bit, bringing some unexpected play into world. "No, we hadn't Scully, but--" He could swear he heard laughter. He could almost see her smile. "*But*, get over here Scully." Not giving her time to respond, he ended the call and set the phone down on the coffee table. Friday night had just gotten a whole lot better. |*|*|*| Sometime Later... "Mulder, are you in there?" DreamMulder replied. DreamMulder's fingers kneaded DreamScully's ass a little tighter, loving the feel of her flesh beneath his fingers. "I'm using my key, Mulder." DreamMulder ignored the foreign word and thrust upward as he gripped DreamScully's hips tighter. Bolting upright, light dawned on a somewhat rumpled Mulder. He'd told Scully to come over and she was at the door; not riding him to within an inch of their lives. 'Key' -- she was going to use her key since he hadn't opened the door for her. He had it bad -- very bad. Taking a moment to bring some order to his tousled couch hair, he called out to her, "Let yourself in, Scully." He blinked repeatedly in the dark, adjusting to the mid-evening shadows formed by the streetlight streaming in through the slatted blinds. "Mulder?" Her question was subdued and hung suspended in the silence of his apartment. The hallway light fixture created a glowing halo around the love of his life, rendering the rest of her almost without shape or substance. Almost ethereal. It was hard for him to remember just when he'd started thinking of her in that way, but there was no doubt about the fact that he did. And he knew she felt the same way, too. He stood and then moved toward her slowly, soundlessly. Watching the way her head tilted to one side. Watching as her hand, still holding the doorknob, slowly closed it behind her. Watching as her eyes sought his, never wavering from him. |*|*|*| Although they were now on equal footing, their eyes having adjusted to the absence of much more than diffused ambient lighting, she felt at a slight disadvantage. He had her. He always seemed to 'have her' lately. Not that she was complaining. He'd obviously been napping. The errant spikiness, the soft locks falling across his forehead, the glasses-- She stopped at the glasses. He must've fallen asleep reading. Did he have any idea how hot they made him look? She wanted to strip him of those glasses. Before or after the clothing, she wasn't sure. Her gaze swept downward, hoping he'd feel the caress. The silvery gray shirt he'd worn to the office today. Now making him look disheveled and rakish, the collar unbuttoned, the tails partially outside his jeans. Her temperature rose a few degrees. This man could be dressed so casually she mused, as she noted the way the curved hem on the left side appeared to be carelessly stuffed into the beltless waistband of his jeans. His favorite pair, if she wasn't mistaken. The pair she told him wasn't decent for public consumption. She'd told him the last time he'd shown up at Starbucks at three in the morning about a month ago. She'd made a point of telling him when he'd found her there after a late night autopsy at the hospital across the street from the coffee shop. And then she'd told him as he'd slid into the rubbed wood booth, bumping up against her purposely, his hip nudging hers. Sending a devastating tingling through her. And after that, she'd tried to convince him as her hand had wandered inside the rather large and threadbare tear in the denim that highlighted a nice span of his thigh. A nice span of firmly muscled thigh, if she remembered correctly. An imperceptible shake of her head brought her back to the present and she willed herself to end this train of thought before she found more of that very threadbare denim, inserted her fingers inside and dragged him to the floor. Although her logical mind posed an important question: How would that be a problem? After all, it had been a long day in the office and an almost interminable evening at her apartment. And she'd found thoughts of him prohibiting any further attempts at relaxing. On a rather unScully-like impulse, she'd picked up the phone, not sure if she'd just needed to hear his voice or see him. The minute she'd heard him tell her to 'get over here', her decision had been rendered. Her mind had been a swirl of half-processed thoughts on the drive over, the predominant thought that she wanted him. Looking at the just how those Levis seemed to hug his hips and thighs. Looking long enough and far enough to notice his bare feet. Oh Mulder. He had to know just how much she loved those feet. His feet. She honestly couldn't recall being turned on by, any other man's feet. She wasn't even sure she'd ever paid them any attention. She was frozen in time and space. Not a bad state, as long as it was temporary. |*|*|*| Fully awake now, Mulder allowed the image of his partner's rather frank appraisal of him to draw the corners of his mouth upward. He was enjoying this moment and was quite willing to continue the stalemate. There was just something about a Scully once over that was enough to ratchet up his usually over-active thermostat. So he was quite willing to wait and see which one of them would make the next move. Or was it the first move? She'd clearly dropped whatever she was doing to get here as he had hoped she would. Although he found himself wanting her often, there were times when that desire was so strong he could feel it and he was ill-equipped to deal with delayed gratification. This was one of those times. His eyes traveled over her, also. From the tips of her toes where they peeked out of her open wedge sandals, to the firm sleekness of her calves and thighs, the hem of her loose knit shorts barely grazing her skin. To the gracious curve of her hips and the rolled waistband that rested just below her navel. He drew in a sharp breath; noting that her own breathing was coming in rather shallow pants, as well. Drawing his eyes upward to meet hers, he slowly took in the uneven edge of her cropped tee before following it over her rising and falling chest. Ever the man to note details, the fact that she appeared braless registered. And had an instant effect. An instant physical effect. Breaking the heated silence, his voice sounded rough to his own ears. "Leave home in a hurry, Scully?" Her response sounded equally rough. "I wasn't sure if you were all right." "I wasn't. I'm not." He wondered how seriously she'd take him. "Oh? Struck by a misdirected bullet? Mauled by some She-Beast? Or--" Obviously, she hadn't taken him all that seriously. He'd fix that. Hands in his pockets, he walked toward her, the look on his face focused. Predatory. Now standing twelve inches from her, he smiled, tilting his head to one side. "Cliched as it may sound, you're the only She-Beast I want mauling me, Scully." His smile matched hers as she closed the distance between them. |*|*|*| "'Mauling' you, Mulder? Mmm... Exactly how would you define 'mauling' as it refers to the interaction between a man and a woman in a healthy, mutually-committed relationship?" Her lips quirked into a small smile watching him desperately trying to hold back, to make her think he didn't want this fast and furious. Just as much as she did. She thought she could accommodate him. But first she wanted him to voice his desires. One hand on her hip, she stepped closer, tapping him on the chest with her finger. "Cat got your tongue, partner?" She gasped when he took her finger and drew it into his mouth. His very hot, very wet mouth. And circled it with his tongue. She found she couldn't take her eyes off his lips, although that wasn't highly unusual. All too soon, he released her...and began to oh-so-calmly define the word for her. Well, she thought, he might appear calm to someone else, but she knew he had to be as aroused as she was. Especially when his voice turned a bit lower, that dusky sandpapery quality evident. "Well Scully, mauling usually describes something being handled harshly, by tearing or slashing or bruising," he began, "often in reference to hunters and their prey." A slow and decidedly sexy smile played about his mouth and she realized they were much to far apart -- even though she could feel his breath gently touching her face. Stepping in to him, one platform-sandaled foot between his legs, she reached up, curling her fingers around the back of his neck. "I can think of a few things even better than mauling," she whispered, her lips a hair's breadth from his. She noted how cooperative he could be as he leaned down to meet her more than half-way. "Show me, Scully." The tone of his words sent a delicious shiver through her from her scalp to her toes which then radiated and pooled somewhere just south of center. Erasing the little space left between them, she slid the tip of her tongue across his parted lips, from corner to corner, upper then lower. She was nothing if not methodical, a woman with a plan. His hitching breath told her all she needed to know and she connected with him, her tongue now swiping his lips and then plunging into his waiting mouth. His response was instantaneous. And hotly passionate. One hand possessively cupping the back of her head, angling her to deepen the contact, his other arm wrapped around her. Caught up in the heat of the sexy Agent in her arms, Scully sought more bodily contact. As her right hand maintained its hold on the nape of his neck, her fingers toying with the fine hairs there, her left moved around to his hips, her hand slipping into the pocket over his ass. She quickly realized one hand couldn't possibly provide the full effect and her right hand joined her left in his other pocket, holding him tightly to her. |*|*|*| The dull clink of his glasses hitting the floor somewhere behind them barely registered. Not entirely sure how they'd been removed as there wasn't much room between them to fit a hand. He was aware of a generally intense fusion from their lips to their hips and the feel of her small, but rather strong hands in his pockets sealed their connection. Well, as much as they could be through layers of fabric. "Scully...," he husked, his hands framing her face, thumbs drawing lazy circles on her temples, "I'm feeling the need to tear your clothing from you." Her eyes twinkled as he watched her attempt to stifle her giggles. He, however, couldn't contain his snort of laughter. "I mean it," the actual words overriding the delivery. And by the look that now transformed her, he knew she was experiencing the same need. He turned, grabbing her hand and headed for the bedroom. But was able to take no more than one step before his redheaded siren tugged him back toward her and began unbuttoning his shirt, her smoky blue eyes locked with his. His hands couldn't seem to keep still, moving from her shoulders, along her arms and then slipping up under her short tee, the backs of his fingers trailing in a feather-light pattern; upward and outward, skating across her breasts, and back again. Her 'Oh, Mulder' and fluttering eyelids momentarily caused her to give up on his shirt. So, he repeated the action once more, twice more and was pleased, but not surprised to find he got the same reaction. The reaction he loved. The one that seemed to render her nearly speechless and a bit weak in the knees. The one that made his own backbone slip. He was going for the reaction that left her totally weak in the knees. So he bent at the waist as he shoved the cropped top up higher and flicked the tip of his tongue over her already teased-hard nipples. "Mulder...oh..." Her reaction was instantaneous as her back arched and his hands steadied her; first at her back and then at her waist. But he didn't stop. Giving her no more than five seconds breathing time, he butterfly-kissed and nipped each tight peak and then blew lightly on one then the other. He guessed that what she wanted was either more of the same or... simply *more* as her fingers clutched at his hair, ensuring that his mouth didn't leave her. And he was only too happy to oblige. Palming the underside and then the sweet curves of her breasts. "Mmm, Scully." He knew from previous experience that the vibrations from his sounds and words on her skin had a decidedly erotic and powerful effect. |*|*|*| The last thing she recalled was the warmth of his long fingers framing her rib cage while his mouth worshipped her breasts. And as far as last things to recall went, well... The part that seemed to be missing from her short-term memory was just how she ended up with her back to him and the rolled waistband of her shorts dipping below her navel. Without his helping hands, her top had slipped down once again; the light friction of the thin cotton fabric heightening the ache and throbbing in her already aroused nipples. But it had nothing on the throbbing length of her partner's prominent erection pressed into her lower back as he bent over her. She was being pawed and lapped at by a man with the lithe and feral grace of a jungle cat. Mauled... "Uh, oh god, Mulder, that feels..." He was rendering her speechless, his mouth just behind her ear and traveling slowly down her neck as one hand worked its way below her navel and then over her bared hip. "...Sooo good," she murmured as his other hand steadied her hip while pulling her back into him just a little bit more. "Oh!" Love bites. She now had her very own provided by a delicious combination of her partner's lips and teeth. She was nearly delirious with the alternating sucking and biting. Not to mention those fingers coaxing her thighs apart. And to think she had nothing planned for tonight, she somehow managed to remember. "Scully..." She felt more than heard him, but the loss of his lips on her neck made her want to weep. Her next sensation was being pulled upright. She assumed Mulder wasn't able to remain in his curled over position any longer. All she knew was that she missed having him wrapped around her. And that any position was just fine as long as it included full body contact. "Mulder," she managed to husk out in response. Although having a few seconds to catch her breath was helpful, she was wound tighter than a bow, an escalating intensity that begged for release consuming her. "Mulder, if you don't--" He hadn't let go, although his hand on her hip had become his arm across her abdomen. "If I don't 'what', Scully," he crooned as one very warm hand slipped farther between her thighs, three long fingers brushing her curls before assaulting her senses, probing her, dipping into her. Teasing, testing. Eliciting whimpers -- and a most definite moan. She floated. Right after she nearly jumped like a live wire, the sensations swamping her. Rendering her unable to answer his question. Rendering it a moot point, more likely. "You haven't answered me, Scully," Mulder growled lowly as his nipped at her earlobe and slipped his hand from her waist to her breasts. "I'm wondering if this was what you had in mind when you started to issue what sounded very much like an ultimatum." She was aware the upward curve of his lips leaving her ear as he stretched again, his chin now resting atop her head. But she was much more aware of her stiffened nipples tightening under his skillful fingers. And oh yes, there was also his hand in her shorts, stroking her, two, then all three fingers gliding inside, curving upward and slightly forward. Her mind let go mere seconds before her body did. Hot, glowing sparks zigzagged through her as he held her flush against him. If it weren't for his arm supporting her and the heat of his now-stilled hand gently steadying her, she was sure she'd be nothing more than a boneless mass at his feet. The touch of his kisses in her hair softly brought her back to the here and now as he turned her around to face him. "You know, Mulder, I hope those hands are insured," she told him, her arms now loosely wrapped around his neck. "Not to worry, Scully, I try to use them only for completely risk-free behaviors," he whispered, his lips lightly touching hers, "like this..." Capturing first her upper and then her lower lip between his, he drew one, then the other between his, sucking gently. Playfulness turned to full-on passion as she slid her hands underneath his shirt, raking her nails along either side of his spine, her fingers finally settling inside the waistband over his ass. Feeling him grind into her as a result. |*|*|*| She was a minx -- in very casual clothing -- but a minx nonetheless. She'd found that spot near the base of his spine, just above his ass. That special dip where the pressure of her fingers seemed to make a connection straight to his dick. Which he was shamelessly grinding into her. He was putty in her very capable hands. Her hands that had unbuttoned his fly and then returned to his ass. Finding a little more room to maneuver, succeeding in kneading and lightly scratching him. If she kept it up much longer, he was going to lose the last waning bit of control he had. Or maybe he hadn't had any control since she'd shown up tonight. She was moving. He could hear the scuffling of her platform sandals on the wood flooring and could feel her baby-stepping between his bare feet. Their lips parted solely because he had to know where they were going. Her combination whine/whimper got his attention, however, and he met her waiting, glistening lips with his, their tongues dueling at a fevered pitch. It was her turn to pull away this time. "Sculleee...?" He wondered how she would read his tone. Wondered if she'd notice the longing and the love and...the lust. When he found himself backed into the wall, he figured she'd zeroed in on the lust. But he would hard-pressed to say whose lust. God how he loved Take Charge Scully. "You know, Mulder, you really are a rather good-looking man." Her murmured words did nothing to ease the throbbing heat of his erection, but he couldn't resist the answering comment. "Only *rather* good-looking, Scully?" Searching the depths of her azure eyes, noting the sultry upturn of her lips, he smiled. Like a man who thinks he knows what's going on, what's about to happen. That train of thought was quickly derailed as she reached up with the feather-light, but nonetheless insistent, her hand grabbing his neck. Drawing him closer. A few quick, glancing and teasing touches from her lips and she whispered, "I wouldn't want the praise to go to your head, Mulder. But I must admit --" He swallowed the rest of whatever she'd planned to say, first licking his own lips, then hers before crushing her mouth under his. It was the drag of her fingertips inside the front of his jeans that made his breath hitch and intensified their kiss. "Mmm...," was all he could manage as she released the remaining buttons below his waistband. When she withdrew her lips from his, his head thudded against the wall. Had he been able to keep his eyes open, he would have noticed the somewhat bemused expression on her face as she completed what she'd started to tell him moments ago. "As I was saying, Mulder," he felt both of her hands at his hips now, tugging at his jeans, "I must admit you are one damn sexy man." That got his attention. "And Mulder," she half-questioned, her smirk evident, "since when did you start going commando?" He grinned ear to ear in response. "Would I be right in assuming you like that?" His fingers tangled in her hair, turning her face up to his. As she wrapped her hand around his pulsing length, she replied, "I would say the evidence strongly supports that assumption, Agent Mulder." And that was the last thing she said as she pulled out of his reach, shoving his jeans to his ankles. His palms smacked the wall on either side of his hips as the tip of her tongue swiped at the wetness on the head of his penis. The only preamble she was going to give him. >From that point in time, all he was aware of was a series of sensations; each one more overwhelming than the next. The woman was going to send him through the roof. Not that he minded. He didn't mind when her very hot and wet mouth slipped over him, taking as much of his length inside as she could. He didn't mind when her hand grasped him at the base, alternating barely-there strokes with a more pronounced pressure. He certainly didn't mind when her other hand cradled his sac, rolling his balls gently. It was the combination of her lips moving more quickly up and down and then down and back up, and the grazing of her teeth that started his impending orgasm. What heightened it for him; turning his legs to just so much rubber, was when her hand left his balls and found that one spot that when massaged just so, sent him skyrocketing. Scully was responsible for sending him skyrocketing often. But somehow, she always seemed to find a new manner in which to do so... |*|*|*| Epilogue Later she wondered what had gotten into her tonight. Later as she lay in Mulder's arms in his infrequently-used bed. Well, she didn't have to think too long. Aside from the deep soul-binding love she felt for this man, her partner in so many ways, there was a simmering carnality about him that sometimes bubbled to the surface. It didn't always take much, she mused. Like tonight. >From head to toe. From those damned glasses to his sexy bare feet. And the incongruence of the well-worn and fitted jeans with the disheveled dress shirt. Very Mulder. Very eclectic, yet somehow put together. He had the look. And she had it bad. |*|*Finis*|*|