TITLE:      The Easiest Thing in the World (1/3)
AUTHOR:     Rafferty
FEEDBACK:   rafferty@highstream.net
RATING:     R for sexual situations and a few explicit words
CATEGORY:   MSR
SPOILERS:   Millennium, all things, Hollywood A.D, Brand X, Je
            Souhaite, Requiem, Per Manum, Three Words, Existence;
            basically the second half of S7, some S8--
            specifically dealing with the M/S relationship
KEYWORDS:   Mulder/Scully Romance, First Time
ARCHIVE:    Please email me so I'll know where it's going
DISCLAIMER: These characters belong to the collective geniuses
            of Chris Carter, 1013, FOX, David Duchovny and
            Gillian Anderson.  No money is being made.  Yadda
            yadda yadda.
SUMMARY:    Mulder and Scully experience the natural progression
            from a platonic relationship to acknowledgment and
            demonstration of their deeper feelings.  Sounds kind
            of dry, doesn't it?  What can I say.  It's my first
            summary.  I promise the story is better than this.
NOTES:      I'm a fanfic author virgin.  If you choose to read
            this, you'll be sharing my first experience with me,
            and I am grateful.
 
            In my convenient XF world, Mulder's neurological
            disease, or whatever it was, is a non-issue
            because he had found a doctor in NC who
            was treating him to stabilize it and this
            treatment wasn't recorded in the medical records
            researched after his disappearance.  He went out of
            town weekends during May to receive treatment.  This
            frees him up to enter into a relationship guilt-
            free.  Also, S9 doesn't exist for me either.

            This story is one of hundreds, maybe thousands,
            attempting to fill in the gaps of an implied
            relationship in S7/S8.  Also, I'm as vague about
            timelines here as Chris Carter was.

            Part 1 is probably only PG.  The yummy stuff happens
            in parts 2 and 3.

FEEDBACK:   Is the only way I guess I'll know if I did something
            right or wrong, so please, please let me know what
            you think.  And please be gentle with the criticism
            ;-).  Thanks!!!

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The Easiest Thing in the World (1/3)
By Rafferty
 
 

Mulder's Apartment
March 2000

She went to him in the middle of the night.

She had nodded off on his shoulder while they were waxing
philosophical about where their respective paths had taken them.
When she awoke to a room lit only by the bright glow of the fish
tank with a crick in her neck and cold feet, she had padded to
the bathroom where she faced the decision of whether she was
going to go home and sleep in her own bed, or sleep with him in
his bed.  It came as no surprise to her when she made her
decision and realized that she had never really considered going
home an option.

He had looked so peaceful as she quietly approached his bed in
the dark.  His long masculine form partially hidden by covers
represented to her all that was warm and safe.  She noticed a t-
shirt he had laid out for her at the end of the bed and took a
moment to turn her back to his sleeping form and remove
everything but her underwear and slip the shirt over her head.

When she finally got up the courage to approach him and sit
gently next to him, his eyes slowly opened to focus on her.

"Hi," he whispered in a sleepy voice.

"Hi," she replied with a tender smile.

For a few moments they simply stared at each other as he waited
patiently for her to let him know why she had awoken him.  She
swallowed down a hot lump of nerves that had suddenly risen up
her throat.

"I can't sleep on your couch," she informed him huskily.

He took a few seconds to absorb that statement before he scooted
his body back about a foot and folded back the covers to indicate
she could crawl into bed beside him.

She could smell his intoxicating maleness and feel the heat
radiating from the spot he offered her.  Her eyelids lowered and
raised in a languid blink as she reconsidered whether or not
sleeping with Mulder was a good idea.  He was her best friend,
she rationalized.  They were both mature adults.  She was too
tired to drive home at this hour.  She was getting pretty cold
and knew his vacated spot on the bed would be so warm.  She had
pretty much convinced herself that it would just be wrong *not*
to sleep with him.

She was only human after all.

She crawled in and laid her head down to face him on the pillow
he was sharing with her.  He brought the covers over her up to
her shoulders.  When he felt her cold feet instinctively pressing
up against his chins he wrapped one long leg around hers, an arm
about her waist, and pulled her up against him.

She was both relieved and a little disappointed to find that he
wasn't naked under there--he was wearing boxers.

He hissed when she tucked one ice-cold hand underneath his torso
and the other one between his upper arm and his side.  She had to
smirk at him, silently questioning whether or not he was going to
whine, but he didn't complain.  He took it like a man.

"Cold hands, warm heart, right Scully?" he said tightly.

"You know it, Mulder," she responded with a smile in her voice.

After a few minutes, they both had warmed back up and were
relaxed again, hazel eyes searching blue as if they held all the
mysteries of the universe.  He brought his hand up to brush a
strand of hair behind her ear.

"I've missed you," he whispered.  They both knew that he wasn't
really referring to his recent trip to England, but rather to the
tense couple of weeks prior that they had spent after she had
voluntarily disappeared with Spender.  During that time they had
fought like cats and dogs, neither willing to compromise their
positions.

"I've missed you too," she echoed with an unsteady voice.  "I'm
not...happy...when we're fighting."

His eyes searched hers as he processed the meaning behind what
she had admitted.

"I can't lose you, Scully,"  he said quietly, this justification
being the bottom-line defense for him, for his behavior.

She wrapped her arm more fully around him to embrace him and told
him both the truth and what she knew he wanted to hear.

"I'm not going anywhere, Mulder."

He graced her with a grateful smile, then raised his head to
bring his mouth to hers in a slow and moist but still relatively
chaste kiss.  He nuzzled her nose briefly with his own, then
tucked her head under his chin.

"Go to sleep," he gently ordered.

She was already being lulled into dreams by the warm cocoon he
had wrapped her in.

"I promise I'll behave," he added.

Her last thought before she drifted off was, *When did I ever ask
you to behave, Mulder?*

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
 

A Couple of Weeks Later
Hollywood, California
 

They went out to dinner, courtesy of the bureau credit card of
course.  They made it a nice one, complete with candles and wine
and an intimate little half-circle booth tucked away in their own
private corner of the elegant restaurant.

He had continued to lament the way that the bungling Hollywood
idiots had portrayed them in the movie.  She teased him about the
way both Tea Leoni and Garry Shandling were ogling him all
evening.  Of course, she neglected to mention how badly she had
wished she had her weapon with her when Miss Leoni had linked her
arm through Mulder's and proceeded to whisper God knows what into
his ear as she drew him into the theater.

They had finished their meal and paid the check and were sitting
back in the booth, barely twelve inches separating their bodies,
enjoying their last glasses of wine.  Neither was drunk or even
tipsy, they were just feeling very relaxed and content.

"So, Scully.  You don't really have a thing for A.D. Skinner, do
you?" Mulder said out of the blue, referring to the on-screen
romance between her character and that of Skinner's.

To her credit, Scully kept a straight face as she replied, "Why
wouldn't I, Mulder.  He's intelligent, educated, well-built..."
Mulder drew his lower lip between his teeth in concern as she
went on...and on, "professional, handsome, well-mannered, a
perfect gentleman as a matter of fact."

Scully pretended not to notice that Mulder was starting to pout.
Teasing him was so much fun.

"There's only one thing he's missing to be the perfect catch in
my book," then she left her statement just dangling out there.
Of course he took the bait.

"Don't just leave me hanging here, Scully.  What's he missing?"

She had to grin like the cat that caught the canary.

"A sense of humor, Mulder.  There's nothing sexier than a man
with a sense of humor."

He didn't even skip a beat.

"So," he began.  "A priest, a rabbi, and Satan go into this
bar..."

She rolled her eyes and moaned, "Mulderrr..."

"Oh, so you've heard that one?" he asked innocently.

She just chuckled softly and shook her head at him.  He was such
a pro at flirting--she could barely keep up.

"What?  You aren't impressed by my sexy sense of humor, Scully?"
He was grinning at her.

Her chin dipped and her smile smoothed into one of gentle
tenderness for him.  She was feeling emboldened by his
playfulness, so she lightly placed her left hand on top of his
right one, which was resting on the table.  She began to stroke
the backs of his fingers with her index fingertip.

He watched fascinated as her hand caressed his.

"Mulder, you don't have to work that hard to get my attention,"
she informed him in a husky voice.

Blue eyes rose languidly to meet hazel.

"You already have it," she confessed in a hushed whisper.

He searched her gaze intently for the meaning behind her words.
Slowly he turned his hand over under hers until their palms were
touching.  He flexed his fingers out to capture hers between his,
then closed his fingers around hers so that their hands were
touching at every available quarter inch of skin.  He began to
caress the back of her hand with his thumb.  Both of their
nervous gazes were now watching their entwined hands on the
table.

His voice had dropped a full octave when he said, "Well, then I'm
the luckiest man on earth."

When she raised her eyes to meet his, hers were full of wonder
and hesitancy.  Her heart was beating triple-time and she was
having a hard time breathing.  She searched his face desperately
for signs that he meant what he said and what he implied by
holding and caressing her hand.  What she found in his features
was nothing but affection and honesty so she allowed one corner
of her mouth to tilt up in a smile.

He leaned toward her slightly and attempted to make her feel a
little more comfortable again by lightening the mood.

"Whadda ya say we blow this joint, Scully?"

Her half-smile turned into a full-fledged grin and she nodded her
agreement that it was time to go.  He squeezed her hand gently
before releasing it and escorted her from the restaurant with a
familiar hand at the small of her back.

XXXXX

The ride in the car from the restaurant back to their hotel was
short and silent.  They hit only one red light on the way, and
while they were stopped there Mulder glanced over at Scully to
evaluate the emotional climate, so to speak.  She was gripping
her purse in her lap and staring out the passenger side window,
so he assumed she was fine but just unnerved by what transpired
at the restaurant.

God knew, he was a bit in shock himself.  He had flirted with her
pretty much constantly for the last seven years, but tonight, for
the first time, he actually got a response out of her.  A
positive response.  A hand-holding, I-admit-I'm-noticing-you kind
of response.  He had to work very hard to pay attention to
traffic rather than do a giddy victory dance right there in the
car next to her.

He had meant what he had said.  If he had read her right, and he
usually did, she had admitted tonight that she was attracted to
him, and if so, he really did believe he was the luckiest man on
earth.

Of course he knew she cared deeply for him.  He also had been
fairly sure that they had opened up a door to a possible whole
new dynamic for their relationship during the past few months
with the IVF attempt and their meaningful yet platonic
reconciliation in his bed a couple of weeks after she had gone
off with Cancer Man.  But for her to admit verbally that he had
her "attention" was quite a milestone.

He couldn't quite believe that he felt this attached, this
intimate with a woman he had never dated or slept with, or even
really kissed.  Hopefully that would change tonight.  Oh, he knew
she wasn't ready for physical intimacy, he doubted *he* was
actually ready for that with her, but he had high hopes that they
might seal this deal tonight with a Real Kiss.

Hey, a man's gotta have dreams, right?

XXXXX

They were in the elevator of the hotel on their way up to their
floor.  Not a word had been exchanged since they had left the
restaurant.  Actually, she had been so unprepared by what had
transpired at dinner that she had barely had the nerve to look at
him since.  The few times she had glanced at him, it had been
like sticking her finger into an electrical outlet--the hairs on
the back of her neck stood on end, she suddenly couldn't keep her
hands still, and her eyes would involuntarily dart down to his
mouth for some unknown and wholly embarrassing reason.

Needless to say, so far she wasn't handling this whole situation
quite as maturely as she usually prided herself on being.  Not
good.  Not good at all.

Of course, the entire time they had been in the elevator she had
felt his steady gaze on her.  *Isn't this affecting him at all?
Maybe this just doesn't mean as much to him as it does to me.
Maybe he's just toying with me.*

*Okay, I need to get a grip* she admonished herself.  *He's my
best friend, the person I trust most in this world.  He would
never purposely take advantage of how I feel about him.*

Once she remembered this it was easier for her to relax at least
a little more and actually look at him fully.

His head dipped in an unconscious effort to bring his eyes more
level with hers.

"What are you thinking, Scully?" he asked.

*Ooooh, wouldn't you like to know, Mulder?  I'm thinking about
how much I want to touch you and kiss you, and how just thinking
about it makes me so nervous that I feel like a 16-year-old
virgin all over again.*

Nope.  Couldn't tell him all that.

So, she opted for an entirely different tactic.

"I'm thinking about Associate Producer Skinner," she informed him
cheekily.

She had to hide her grin when she saw his jaw drop just as she
exited the elevator onto their floor.

*Take that, Mulder.  I told you.  I'll always keep you guessing.*

XXXXX

*Associate Producer Skinner?*  He didn't buy it for a second.  He
gave her what she expected, a properly indignant response, but he
knew her too well to believe she'd been thinking about Skinner.
She'd been thinking about himself.  About them.

Just as he had.

He didn't even try to pry his gaze from the womanly sway of her
hips as he followed her to her hotel room door.  He fervently
tamped down the brief surge of lust which had suddenly pooled in
his loins.  This was no time to go animal on her, not even at the
thought of what just might happen if she let him into her room.

Besides, she deserved so much more than that.  More than him.
He'd known that for years, which was partly what kept him from
pressing for more from her, but now that he knew that she might
be actually *choosing* him, he was just too selfish not to
explore all the possibilities.

If she cared enough for him to overlook all of his many faults,
all the times he had put her in danger, all the times he had
wittingly or unwittingly caused her pain, then the least he could
do was be patient enough to let her set the pace.

But that wasn't going to stop him from trying out a little
friendly persuasion.

She had removed her card key before she even came to a stop in
front of her door.  His room was right next to hers but
unfortunately they didn't have connecting doors.

How would he respond if she asked him why he had followed her to
her door tonight?  Something utterly witty like, 'Because I need
to check under your bed for flukemen,' or maybe, 'Because you
look like you need to be tucked in.'

Thank God she didn't ask.

But she stopped the movement of her hand, which was just about to
insert the card key into its slot.

Mulder leaned sideways against the doorjamb beside her to more
fully see her face.  She shot him The Eyebrow in response.

He couldn't help it.  Her hesitation contrasted by the brave
little eyebrow thing was just too irresistible.  It brought out
all manner of testosterone-driven urges.   The urge to protect,
the urge to meet a challenge.

Most of all, the urge to pursue.

His voice was low and persuasive when he gently commanded her,
"Invite me in, Scully."

XXXXX

Scully only paused a moment before inserting the card into the
slot and turning the handle.  True to form, Mulder raised an arm
from behind her and pushed the heavy door out of her way so that
she could enter the room before him.

She would never, ever admit to anyone how much of a thrill it
gave her every time he ushered her into a room.  It always made
her feel cherished.

She crossed the room and removed her jacket to lay it neatly on
the bed.  She took a moment to steel her nerves, then turned
around to find him standing only about two feet from her.  His
nearness made her feel flustered all over again.

"This is natural, isn't it?" she began in an unsteady voice.  She
cleared her throat before continuing, "I mean, we've known each
other for seven years.  Practically lived in each other's
pockets."  A bright red flush spread from her chest to her
forehead.

Her eyes searched his for agreement.  "We've saved each other
countless times.  Care...deeply...for each other.  We've even
tried to create a baby together.  So it's natural that we would
feel some attraction to each other at some point in our
relationship."

He took a step closer so that only inches separated them.  He
lifted a hand, tenderly slipped his index finger about an inch
inside her sleeveless sweater's armhole at her shoulder and
lightly ran that finger from her shoulder to the outer swell of
her breast in one slow, sensual caress.

He had watched his finger against the pale creaminess of her skin
during its entire journey.  When he heard her breath catch, he
dropped his gaze briefly to the unsteady rise and fall of her
breasts, where her nipples had suddenly hardened into visible
peaks.

Then he met her gaze.  "It would be the easiest thing in the
world to become involved with you, Scully," he told her
intimately.

They stood there staring at each other, no longer touching in any
way, communicating in that magical silent method they had long
ago perfected.  Her eyes asking him if this was really happening.
His eyes telling her that it was, and that he was with her every
step of the way.

"Have you...thought about this before?" she quietly asked.

Mulder tenderly tucked a tendril of hair back behind her ear as
he responded softly, "Thought about it.  Dreamed about it."

His eyes took on a naughty gleam briefly, "Fantasized about it."

His expression turned serious again as he paused.  "Ached for
it."

Scully was breathless at his admission.  She was overwhelmed by
the response her heart, her entire body, was having to what he
was telling her.

Mulder slowly caressed her lower lip with his thumb.  "I want you
to start thinking about this too, Scully," he told her in a soft
yet commanding voice.  "Think about how we're going to make this
work.  I won't risk losing you...so I need you to be very sure
this is what you want."

She couldn't verbally respond.  Her eyes were swimming with
unshed tears, her throat burning with emotion, so she gave him
her ascent with an almost imperceptible nod of her head.

Before she could even process the enormity of what was happening,
he was leaning down to gently brush his lips against hers in a
chaste but breathtaking kiss reminiscent of the ones they had
shared on New Years and in his bed a couple of weeks ago.

"Goodnight, Scully.  See you in the morning," he whispered
against her lips before he turned and began to leave.

His hand was on the knob by the time she had gathered her wits
about her and had found her voice.  "I've thought about it too,
Mulder," she confessed in a husky alto, and he turned around to
face her, one eyebrow raised and a slight smile of approval on
his face.

"Good.  You'll let me know when you're ready then," he answered.

She merely smiled an entirely womanly smile as he left.

*Ready.  I've been ready for about six and a half years.  I'm so
ready that I think I'll go insane if I have to wait just one more
day.  I know I didn't come off as self-confident as I would have
liked tonight, but that's just because he caught me off guard.
Well, now I'm ready.*

*Really.*

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
 

A Couple of Weeks Later
Hoover Building, X-Files Office
Friday, 5:15pm
 

They had spent the past couple of days in the office catching up
on paperwork.  It had been a couple of weeks since they had
attended the Hollywood premier of the movie, since she and Mulder
had basically admitted their attraction to each other and Mulder
had asked her to think about how they were going to work "this"
and to let him know when she was ready.

Of course, she had thought of little else in the days since.

She had felt ready to start something that night in L.A., had
actually felt like she could be ready for more for years now.
But being the analytical woman that she was, not prone to rush
into anything, especially something this monumental, she had
taken the time to ponder the ins and outs of how she believed
they could make this work.

And now she was ready to discuss it with him.

She had studied him in silence from across the room for the past
several minutes, trying to figure out how she was going to
approach him about this.  Finally she decided that it was now or
never, so she shutdown her computer, got out her purse, and
crossed the room to his desk.

He looked up at her, a hint of awareness in his eyes, as she came
around to his side of the desk, leaned against it as she crossed
her ankles, and looked him squarely in the eyes.

"I've been doing some thinking, Mulder.  I was wondering if you
have some time this weekend so we could discuss our...situation."

He obviously knew which "situation" to which she was referring.
His expression was at once hopeful and hesitant.

"How about dinner.  Tomorrow night," he offered.

Scully released a pent up breath she hadn't realized she had been
holding.

"Sounds fine.  Seven o'clock.  I'll cook."

He quirked an eyebrow at her display of self-confidence.  He gave
her a slight, knowing smile before she turned to leave the
office, saying on the way out, "See you tomorrow night, Scully."
 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
 

Saturday, 6:55pm
Scully's Place
 

Mulder had gotten back into town with just enough time to run
home, shower, shave, and grab the bottle of wine he had picked up
on his way home yesterday.  He couldn't quite believe he was
standing here, just outside Scully's apartment door, about to
enter and have the most important conversation he had ever had in
his entire life.  The Talk.  About whether or not they were going
to become a Couple.

Damn, but he was nervous.

Part of him, the insecure part that never forgot that he hadn't
had sex with another person in about six years, was sure she was
going to tell him all the reasons they shouldn't start something
between them.  Another part of him, the more optimistic and
reasonable one, kept telling him that she wouldn't have strung
him along for weeks letting him think she was considering it if
she really wasn't.  After all, when she had invited him to dinner
yesterday, she hadn't exactly looked like a woman with bad news
to impart.

No matter what, though, even if she told him they needed to just
remain friends, he was convinced he could accept that, because
her friendship was as essential to him as breathing.  He would do
*nothing* to screw that up.

He refused to even think about what would happen if she told him
they couldn't become involved *and* she didn't think they could
be around each other anymore because of the tension.  That way
laid insanity.

He lifted his hand to rap out his usual knock on her door.  As he
waited, his feet shifted restlessly and the hand that wasn't
holding the bottle was in his front pants pocket jingling change.

He darted a quick glance down the front of his body in a last-
minute inspection.  White t-shirt not on backwards--check.  No
drool or food on the black Henley he was wearing over the t-
shirt--check.  Jeans fly zipped--check.  Socks match--check.

Jesus, what was taking her so long?

Suddenly he heard her deadbolt scrape and the door opened and
there she stood, looking all flushed and soft and so womanly it
was almost painful just to look at her.

His eyes began a slow perusal down her body, starting at her
delicate collarbones peeking out of the neckline of an incredibly
sexy white, fitted, long-sleeved blouse unbuttoned far lower than
he was used to seeing on her.  His gaze followed the trail of
buttons down the blouse to find below it those soft, faded jeans
that he loved.  The ones that cupped her ass exquisitely and made
her look about twenty.  God bless Levi Strauss.

When his perusal reached her feet, he noticed she was wearing
light blue fuzzy terrycloth slippers with stars and moons
embroidered on them.  Awww.  He could just eat her up she was so
sexy and adorable.

His eyes took on a wicked gleam as he wondered what she would do
if he just scooped her up and carried her to the bedroom.
Probably sock him one.

When he finally returned his gaze to hers, she was doing that
thing with the eyebrow that never failed to bring him to
attention.  And there was a smirk on her face.

Ooops.  Too much gawking.  It was a shame, really, because she
was so very gawk-worthy.

"Are you going to stand there all night staring, Mulder?"

He put on his most endearingly boyish smile and held the bottle
out to her as he stepped across the threshold.

"I may stare all night, Scully, but I can do it from inside your
apartment if you'd like," he quipped.  She took the bottle and
headed toward the kitchen with him following, but not before he
noticed the little smile his comment had brought to her lips.

She turned her back to him and lifted a lid off a saucepan to
stir what looked and smelled like a mushroom sauce.

"It was nice of you to bring wine, Mulder.  I already have a
bottle opened, but I have the feeling we're going to need another
one before this night's over."

He studied her back intently for a moment before responding,
"Nervous?"

She replaced the lid and turned to face him with a rueful smile
on her face.

"Yeah.  I am," she confessed.

"It's just me.  As long as you're not telling me you're
transferring to Utah, we should have no problem," he said in an
attempt to ease her anxiety.

Then his voice lowered intimately, "If it makes you feel any
better, I'm nervous too."

This earned him a full-fledged Scully-grin.  "Thanks.  That does
make me feel better."  Their gazes locked for a moment before she
snapped out of it and went back to work over the stove on dinner.

He looked around the orderly kitchen, took mental note of the
table already set with cloth napkins in rings, water glasses full
of ice water, a wine glass at one of the settings, and a couple
of thick candles already lit in the middle of the table.
Whatever she was cooking smelled heavenly.  She smelled heavenly
too.  Not like perfumes or creams or powders, just like warm pure
Scully.  Yummm.  He picked up his wine glass and filled it from
the bottle on the kitchen counter.

"Anything I can help with?" he offered.  She put him to work
finishing up the salads.  As he bent over his task, he ruminated
briefly over how cozy this felt, preparing food quietly together
in her kitchen, the soft sounds and smells of 'Home' surrounding
them.

He closed his eyes for a moment just soaking it all in, allowing
the emotions inside him momentary free rein to clog his throat
and swell his heart.

God, he ached for this.  For her.

XXXXX

Twenty minutes later they were sitting down at the table eating
bowtie pasta with creamy mushroom sauce and chicken breast, salad
and French bread.  Actually, Mulder was eating with gusto since
his body was always so starved for real home-cooked food.
Scully, however, was picking at hers, eating only the occasional
bite, the butterflies that had taken up residence in her stomach
sometime yesterday afternoon not quite calm enough to allow her
to feel hungry.

"Are we going to discuss this during dinner?" Mulder abruptly
asked.

Scully looked up from her plate to notice that his was nearly
empty and that he was studying her intently.  She opted to
temporarily ignore the question.

"There's more if you want it," she evaded.

This time it was Mulder's brows that headed north.  "I'll take
that as a 'no'."

"I'd prefer to wait until after dinner, if you don't mind," she
finally answered quietly.

"No problem."

They finished their dinner in silence, Scully acutely aware that
Mulder was watching her every move.  When they were done, he
offered to help her clean up and she accepted, both moving
efficiently around her small kitchen and dinette until the rooms
were spotless.

After she finished drying her hands on the dishtowel, she turned
to find Mulder effectively blocking her exit from the kitchen.

"Scully, you're killing me here," he stated softly as he tenderly
tucked a loose curl behind her ear.  "Are we going to do this or
not?"

Well it wasn't eloquent, but it was honest.  The least he
deserved was an honest answer.

"Yes, I think we are," she informed him.  She worried her lower
lip between her teeth as she watched a wolfish smile slowly
spread across his face.  He was obviously pleased with her
answer.

"We are," he repeated.

"Yeah.  Unless you've changed your mind."

He looked at her as if she had just sprouted another head.  Then
he got a predatory gleam in his eye as he took a step toward her.
His head dipped to come closer to her level.

"Whadda ya say we seal this deal with a kiss then," he proposed
with a gleam in his eye.

She held up a hand to stop him in his tracks about a foot from
her.  "First we have to discuss the rules."

"The rules?"

"We can't let this interfere with our work," she began.

"I think that goes without saying, Scully."

"I just don't want any misunderstandings.  Also, we have to be
honest with each other, Mulder.  If things start going...if one
of us wants to stop this we have to agree to tell the other
before it gets ugly.  That's the only way we can preserve what we
have now."

He was studying her seriously as she spoke.  He nodded his
agreement.

"And I want to take this fairly slow.  It's been a while since
either of us have been involved with anyone and I think we might
be rusty."  She added that last part with a self-deprecating
smile.

"You mean it's not like riding a bike?" he asked in mock
innocence.  She gave him The Brow.  "We can take this as slowly
as you want, Scully," he assured her.

Then he tilted his head a little more toward hers as he warned
her in a low tone, "But I'm not going to promise that I won't try
a little....persuasion."

*Mmmm*, Scully thought, already caught in the spell.  *Persuade
me, Mulder.  Please.*

She paused for a moment, suddenly fascinated with his beautiful
lips.  When Mulder realized she was done enumerating their Rules,
one corner of his mouth lifted in a smile.  She smiled in return
as her gaze shot to his and her eyes began to sparkle as if they
were partners in crime about to embark on the heist of the
century.  Which to them, they were.

When he took a step to close the space between them to mere
inches, she inhaled the heady masculine scent of him.  God, he
was just so....Male.  Her heart rate began to speed up and she
knew she must be blushing from her head to her toes, but she
didn't care.  This was Mulder, her Mulder, and suddenly she had
the right to touch him.  To kiss him.

God, she'd be lucky if she didn't swoon.

XXXXX

His heart was pounding hard as he brought his hands up to gently
cup her face.  He had honestly never seen anything as beautiful
as the way she was looking at him right this moment.  He had
thought about kissing her so many times over the years that now
that the moment was actually upon him, he was almost paralyzed by
anticipation and performance anxiety.

He slowly brought his face very close to hers and she reached out
to grab handfuls of his shirt to steady herself.  Both their eyes
closed as he began to nuzzle her nose softly with Eskimo kisses,
inhaling her unique scent, taking in each little breath that
puffed out of her slightly-parted mouth in an irregular cadence.
Jesus, it was so intimate, breathing her in this way.  He could
almost taste her.

"Seven years is a long time, Scully," he whispered a scant
quarter inch from her lips.

She chuffed a little laugh in agreement against his lips.  "Yes,
it is."

He caressed her cheek with his nose one last time, then felt a
smile lift the corners of his mouth as he teased, "Be gentle with
me."

When her lips parted from surprise at his statement, he closed
the small space between their mouths and covered hers gently with
his own.  Her lips were bare and warm as he brushed his own back
and forth slowly across hers, getting them both used to the
sensation.

He felt a hot surge in his groin when she held her breath as he
ran his tongue just along the inside of her upper lip.  He had
coveted that upper lip for years, and now it was finally his to
conquer.  He sucked on it tenderly for a moment before moving on
to further uncharted territory.

His tongue forayed just past her lips, silently searching for its
mate.  He didn't even realize he'd been holding his own breath
until her tongue finally stroked against his hesitantly and he
let out a low groan.

"Mmmmm hmmmm," was her response as she began to tangle her tongue
with his more enthusiastically.

That's when everything else around him disappeared and the tastes
and textures of their joined mouths became his entire universe.

XXXXX

*Oh, God,* she thought.  *I feel like my bones are melting.*

Scully snaked her arms up Mulder's chest and around his neck so
she could literally hang on him since her legs seemed to have
lost the ability to hold her upright.

The kiss had quickly segued into something not quite wild, yet
not quite tame either.  What it was, she decided, was seven years
of wanting finally rearing its needy head.

He tasted exactly as she had always thought he would--dark, rich,
masculine.  He kissed her like he was making love to her mouth,
the way she had always wanted to be kissed.  Slowly.  Sensually.
With passion.

She barely even registered that his hands were smoothing down her
back and waist until they ventured south to mold around the curve
of her buttocks.  He had no way of knowing this yet, although she
suspected he was a quick learner about this particular subject,
but her backside was her big weakness.  Feeling Mulder's big,
warm, strong hands curled around her rear made her center
suddenly feel very hot and open.

Of course that also could have something to do with the fact that
their mouths were currently having what could be considered hot
sex.

When she felt his hands slip a little lower to the backs of her
upper thighs and start to lift her she broke the kiss out of
surprise.

"Mulder...," she questioned as he turned and sat her down on the
countertop, with him ending up standing between her spread legs.

She gave him a knowing smile when she realized he was just trying
to make them more comfortable.  His hands were back on her ass
now and he slowly slid her toward the edge of the counter, toward
his body, until she came up fully against him and could feel the
hard ridge of his erection press against her aching core.

"Much better, right, Scully?" he asked with a wicked gleam in his
eye.

Knowing that she had him this aroused gave her the heady feeling
of being a seductress.  She was proud of her boldness as slowly
rolled her hips against his once causing him to suddenly sober
and inhale on a hiss.

"Mmmmm....much better, Mulder," she crooned in reply.

Mulder groaned as he rested his head in the crook of her neck.

It was her turn to sport the slightly wicked smile.  She splayed
her fingers through his hair and coaxed his head back up to hers.
"I think you can handle it, Mulder," she informed him just before
she brought his mouth back to hers for another thorough
entanglement.

His hands began roaming again, and she began to squirm slightly
against him in an unconscious attempt to get closer to the one
thing within reach that could ease the growing ache inside of
her.

Both of them lost track of all sense of time and space.  There
was only the two of them and an endless melting of mouths and
souls as they finally showed each other all they meant to one
another after years of keeping it pent up inside.

When Scully felt Mulder's hands stroke down the sides of her
back, his thumbs straying forward to trail down the outsides of
her breasts, a little shiver went through her and goosebumps
broke out over her body from head to toe.

Mulder broke the kiss when he felt her shiver and leaned his
forehead against hers as they both tried to regain their breath
and their bearings.  His head shifted against hers as he looked
down at their bodies, specifically hers and the way here nipples
were now standing out like little pebbles for all the world to
see.

"God, this is going to be so good," he groaned.

She only chuckled and wrapped her arms around him to pull him
fully against her in a hug.  After a few moments, he backed away
from her a few inches and ran a hand over his chin as he looked
at her like she was some kind of bewitching goddess or something.

"If this is slow, Scully, I don't think I'm going to survive it,"
he said mock-ruefully.  He stroked her bottom lip with his thumb.
"As painful as it is to say this, I think I'd better go before I
drop to my knees and start begging pathetically for something
you're not ready to give."

One corner of her mouth quirked up in understanding as she nodded
her agreement.

He leaned toward her once more, carefully keeping his lower body
from pressing against hers, as he gave her a chaste but sweet
kiss.

"Goodnight, Scully," he breathed intimately against her mouth.
"Dinner was wonderful, and the company was....breathtaking."

With that, he gently brought her knees together and lifted her to
stand on her own on the floor.  She followed him to the door
where he picked up his jacket and keys, and watched him leave her
apartment, not quite looking back at her, but sporting an obvious
erection.

When she turned around to face her apartment, she didn't really
see anything around her.  Her mind was still back on their
kisses, and his hands, and him pressing against her between her
legs.  She could feel her own moisture pooling in her panties,
and her breasts felt heavy and tender.  She felt like she was
sixteen again and had just spent two hours in a heavy makeout
session in the backseat of her current crush's car.  It felt
wonderful, actually.

*He's right,* she thought.  *This is going to be sooo goood.*

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
 

Several Days Later
 

"You can sheathe your claws now, Scully," Mulder leaned toward
Scully and informed her as they were descending the stairs.

Scully stopped dead in her tracks, both feet firmly planted on
the next to last step before the landing.

*Oh, no.  I don't believe he just said that.  Am I that
transparent?*

They had arrived here this afternoon in B.F.E., Nevada, and had
just finished talking with the local pathologist who had done the
autopsy on their current case earlier in the day.  Of course, the
pathologist just happened to be a female with impossibly
luxurious long brunette hair, a chest that all but demanded "pet
me", and legs practically up to her chin.  And she obviously
thought Mulder would be a nice little diversion after a long day
cutting up a dead guy.

Mulder had stood there tongue-tied, drinking in every technical
term that Dr. Busty threw his way, and now he had the nerve to
accuse her of being jealous?  What, has he got a death wish?
Even if she was jealous, that was information she fully planned
on taking to her grave with her.  Deny everything.

In the past few days, Mulder had treated her practically the same
as he had most everyday for the past seven years.  Except there
had been a few more meaningful touches, a few more intimate phone
calls late at night, and one more kissing session that had left
her breathless and aching for more.  She was just becoming secure
in the knowledge that Mulder was becoming hers.  And already,
barely four days into their "involvement," someone was trying to
come between them.

She was, of course, also ignoring the fact that she had started
her period today and thus was feeling slightly irrational.  But
only slightly.  The rest of this was entirely justified.

*Sheathe my claws, indeed.*

"What are you talking about, Mulder?" Scully queried in a tone
that would freeze lava.

Mulder had stopped on the landing and turned around so that they
were now on eye level with each other.  He was looking way too
much like the cat-that-ate-the-cream for Scully's tastes.

He leaned over conspiratorially, as if about to confide some
secret with her, "You were jealous back there."

"I.  Was.  Not," she replied with all the sincere deadpan she
could muster.  *Just because that hussy was flagrantly flirting
with you, giving you bedroom eyes, laying her hand on your arm--
with me standing right there next to you--why would I be
jealous?*

*Besides, I have no right to be jealous.  Do I?*

Mulder wasn't buying her denial.  "You.  Were.  Too."  And then
he really risked a serious ass-kicking by leering at her and
stating, "And I just can't seem to muster up regret that I'm so
turned on by it."

Scully's jaw dropped and she was speechless for a moment.
Finally, she came back to her senses, decided the best course of
action right now was to not encourage him, and calmly demanded,
"Let me by, Mulder.  We have work to do."

She wasn't entirely surprised when both his arms spread to grasp
the handrails on either side of them, trapping her from
continuing down the stairway.

"Real mature, Mulder."

"Talk about the pot calling the kettle..." but he didn't get to
finish his sentence since she had promptly turned her back on him
and started going back up the stairs.

Of course, he went up after her, snagging her hand, turning her
around to face him.  They were a stair tread apart, once again on
eye level, although by the look she was giving him right now he
kind of wished he wasn't in so direct a path for the glare.  He
was still holding her hand, not taking any chances that she was
going to flee again.

"Scully, if you want to drop this, we can drop it.  But first I
want you to think about something."

He gave her a moment to protest, and when she didn't he went on.
"I did nothing back there to encourage her.  I was as surprised
as you probably were by how blatant her advances were, especially
right in front of you.  But I *didn't respond*."

Scully remained quiet, eyes darting from one of his eyes to the
other, searching for any sign that he wasn't being honest with
her.  God, she didn't want to be angry with him.  She didn't want
to be a crazy jealous monster either.  She had never been jealous
with any of her previous relationships so this feeling was
totally foreign to her, and beneath her in her own opinion.

And if she was really honest, he hadn't flirted with her.  He had
looked like he was just as surprised as herself at the
unprofessionalism of the pathologist.

Finally, she calmed down and let out a big sigh.  Mulder's grip
on her hand loosened a little and his other hand came up to
cradle her nape and pull her head toward his.

He spoke gently against her ear, "We've known each other for
seven years.  You know you've spent more time with me than
anyone, and you know that some beautiful women have crossed our
paths throughout the years.  But in all that time, have you ever
seen me come on to anyone?  Anyone besides you, Scully?"

Scully raised her head to search his face.  *God he's so
beautiful.  How could someone that beautiful want plain old me?*
She was having a hard time believing he would prefer her over
someone like Matreya or Dr. Busty.

Then she remembered something.  Something painful.  It was so
mortifying to reveal her insecurities this way, but she needed to
know if he was turning to her because he was pining away for
someone from his past, or if he really did feel something for
her.  So she gathered up her courage and went for broke.

"I saw you kissing Phoebe.  And you were very....close...to
Diana."

XXXXX

He exhaled a heavy sigh of resignation and ran a frustrated hand
through his hair.  He had known they would have to have this
conversation eventually.  He just didn't know it was going to be
here in this sterile stairwell, in the middle of some God-
forsaken case. It was so early in this delicate bud of a
possibility of a romantic relationship.  He was seriously worried
that whether or not they really became involved relied completely
on the next few words out of his mouth.

Well, he reasoned if she was going to be brave enough to bring
this up, then he could be brave enough to give her an honest
answer.

"The last time I saw Phoebe was what...seven years ago, Scully.
I barely knew you then, and I'll admit, I was...lonely...and
allowed myself to wax poetic about the history we'd had."

He offered her a self-deprecating smile.  "It didn't take long
for me to remember why Phoebe and I were a bad combination.  And
I haven't, for one minute, thought of her since."

He carefully studied her face for signs of understanding as he
continued.  "And as for Diana...I know you don't want to hear
this, but you and Diana were alike in some ways.  When we
were...together...I was attracted to her intelligence, our common
interests with the paranormal, and what I thought was integrity.
It took me a long time to figure out that she wasn't quite as
loyal as I had thought.  And when she came back, I didn't feel
the attraction I had felt before, but I did have hopes that she
had changed and that we could be allies."

His voice took on a sad tone, "I have so few people on my side,
Scully.  It was easy to hope."

He looked regretful now as he raised a finger to trace her
eyebrow.  "I'm sorry that I treated you badly during that time,
Scully.  I can be such an ass sometimes.  I feel its only fair to
warn you in case you haven't figured that out by now."

Her eyes were sad too, and her expression was rueful, but she
tried to lighten the situation out of reflex, "Well I know
*that*."

He had to chuckle.  She was such a balm for his pathetic,
bedraggled soul.

Now that he had all that off his chest, knowing he wasn't really
off the hook, but that she would need time to chew on all the
information, he felt the need to reiterate his earlier point.

"So, if we discount Phoebe and Diana for a moment, have you ever
heard me ask anyone else if we should be picking out china
patterns?  Or tell them they're my one in five billion?  Or that
they're my touchstone?  Or blurted out "I love you" in slightly-
drugged vulnerability?"

He had to smile at her look of surprise that he had remembered
that last one.  Obviously she had thought he was doped to the
gills when he had let that one slip out.  In reality, he had only
just started feeling the effects of the medication, just started
feeling his bones growing warm and his heart feeling free when he
had told her he loved her.  He had meant what he had said, but
obviously she hadn't thought so.

"Yes, Scully, I was well aware that I said that.  And I meant it
too."

When her eyes welled up with unshed tears he gently kissed her
forehead.

"Mulder, I don't know what to say," she admitted hoarsely.  He
was right.  She had never seen him really flirting with anyone
but her.  Could it be that he had felt this way about her for
years and never said anything, never done anything about it?

His eyes roamed over her face.  God she was the most beautiful
person he had ever seen.  And he knew he would always feel that
way.

"Just tell me that we can work through this.  I need to know that
you realize that you're the only one I want."

For a moment she just looked at him with such love in her watery
eyes that he felt his heart swell to almost bursting.  Sometimes
it was so painful just to look at her.

Then she placed her hands on each side of his face and brought
his lips to hers for a kiss that was both apology and
forgiveness.  He greedily drank every drop of emotion she poured
into him through her kiss.  He actually started to tip to the
side like a drunken fool, which is what his head felt like right
about now, and used one hand to grab onto the handrail.

Of course, his other arm snaked around her waist of its own
accord and pulled her against him so that they were touching from
chest to calves.  He could really get used to kissing her on
stairs--the way it brought their mouths to the same level was
definitely something to appreciate.

He could have cheerfully gone on kissing her there all day, but
eventually she broke the kiss and gently swiped her fingertips
across his lips in an attempt to erase lipstick smears.

As for her, he thought she looked just fine the way she was.
Hair slightly mussed, face flushed with desire, and her sweet
pouty lips smudged and even more swollen than usual.  Yep, she
looked like she'd just been kissed and kissed well, and it made
him feel like Superman to know that he had put that look on her.

He guessed they were okay now, because she tenderly took his hand
and laced their fingers.  Then together they descended the stairs
in silence, breaking apart only when they exited their private
little stairwell into the public hallway.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
 

Continued in part 2
 
 

Several Weeks Later
Mulder's Apartment
 

He turned off the tv and started the tape rewinding.  It was
suddenly very quiet in the room after the noise of Caddyshack
disappeared.  All that could be heard was the whirring of the
tape rewinding.

Mulder set the remote down on the coffee table, then crossed his
right leg over his left as he turned slightly to angle himself to
face Scully.  He placed his elbow on the back of the couch,
leaned his head on his hand, and took a quiet moment to study
her.  She looked relaxed and peaceful, in no hurry to leave, and
it was all he could do not to pull her to him and bury his nose
in her neck.

It had been a few weeks since their last little "encounter" in
the stairwell.  They had been busy with work, and he had gotten
that gross nicotine beetle illness which had laid him up for a
couple of weeks.

He would never forget the time that he was at home in bed on
doctor's orders, only a few days home from the hospital, with
Scully sitting beside him trying to coax him into eating chicken
noodle soup.  He had wanted to go back to work immediately, and
so was pouting because the doctor had forced him to take two
weeks off work.

"Mulder, you need to keep up your strength," she had coerced.
Then her already incredibly sexy alto dropped even lower to what
he privately thought of as her bedroom voice when she added, "I
have big plans for you when you're well."

He didn't think he'd ever enjoyed chicken noodle soup with such
relish before.

And now he was feeling better.  Had fought off a cigarette habit.
Found a genie, learned what insanity living in a world without
Scully in it was for about 45 minutes, and now she was here with
him in his apartment.  Safe, warm, healthy.  Sitting next to him
on the couch looking all cozy and impossibly womanly.

He enjoyed the feeling of his body hardening as he watched her.

She really didn't stand a chance.

XXXXX

He reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear as he
said, "Are you still with me?"

Scully smiled slightly, turned her head and rested it on the back
of the couch as she studied him.  She lazily trailed her eyes
down his face to his mouth, then back up to his eyes.  No doubt
about it.  Mulder was infinitely more pleasurable to look at than
Bill Murray.

Her voice was low and husky as she replied, "I think I've seen
enough gophers to last me a lifetime, Mulder."

"Never enough gophers, Scully," he said with a smile that
actually showed teeth.

They were in a rather intimate pose together on the couch.  If
she moved her face about six inches toward him she'd be able to
find out if he tasted as good as she remembered.  She could smell
his cologne or aftershave.  Whatever it was, it smelled like him,
and she had the stray thought that he must have worn it for
years, because it was something she instantly recognized.  It
gave her comfort and made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside to
be this close to him, with his familiar smell wafting around her,
the heat radiating off his body enveloping her in a cocoon.

Scully was so relaxed that she closed her eyes, silently
memorizing the way she felt at that moment, with a content smile
on her face.

"Are you sleepy?" Mulder asked softly, his voice seeming to have
dropped an entire octave.

She slowly opened her eyes and focused on his.  "Not really.
Just very, very comfortable.  *And* relieved the movie's over."
She added with a wicked grin.

He continued to watch her for a moment.  She knew he was thinking
about something big, could almost hear the gears grinding in
there.  The VCR chose that moment to stop rewinding and the room
suddenly became completely quiet.

"What's on your mind, Mulder?"  This brought a slightly wicked
gleam to his eye.  Uh oh, she should know better than to ask
Mulder what he's thinking about when he's looking at her like he
could cheerfully lick her from head to toe and back again.

He leaned toward her a couple more inches, lifted his hand to
trail a finger around the outside of her ear.  "I want you to
stay.  Spend the night with me."

The satisfied smile instantly disappeared from her face.  She
couldn't really say she was surprised.  They had been dancing
around and up to this particular point for weeks, even months
now, after all.  But she did seem to be in some mild state of
shock.  Her heart rate had suddenly sped up.  Her eyes had shot
to his and held there unblinking while she considered his request
and all that it implied.  He watched fascinated as her lips
parted for her to draw in the oxygen that her body suddenly
needed much more of than it was getting.

"Spend the night," she repeated in a whisper.  "Here."

"You've slept here before, Scully."  But they both knew that
wasn't what he was asking of her.

Mulder realized he had been holding his breath, so he exhaled in
a long slow stream through his nose.  The finger that had trailed
around her ear came up to gently trace one of her eyebrows.

"I didn't bring anything to sleep in," she mentioned inanely.

He leered comically as he replied, "Clothing is optional, Scully.
But if you insist, I could probably find you a t-shirt to sleep
in."  His voice was low and intimate, the one that made the hairs
on the back of her neck stand on end and her nipples perk up and
pay attention.

He could see in the liquid pool of her eyes how much she wanted
this.  And how nervous she was.  He silently willed to her the
mantra *Be brave, Scully.  Be very, very brave.*

"What ever happened to going slowly?" she asked breathlessly.

He paused for a moment as he considered his answer.

"I'm just not ready for you to leave yet, Scully.  I'm not going
to lie to you and say I wouldn't like to make love to you," he
actually watched her pupils dilate at this admission.  "But
nothing's going to happen here tonight unless you want it to."

He traced a fingertip delicately down the edge of her jaw to her
chin.  "I've waited seven years," he whispered.  "I can wait as
long as you need me to."

He watched her as she mulled the weighty decision over in her
more than adequate mind.  Suddenly, she placed one hand on his
knee and the other on the edge of the cushion beside her, pushed
herself up and began walking toward his bathroom.  His heart gave
a little leap of victory when he heard her call to him, without
even turning her head his way, "Find that t-shirt, Mulder."

He grinned like a kid on Christmas morning.  *Yes, ma'am.*

XXXXX

While Scully was in the bathroom, Mulder worked off nervous
energy by cleaning up the popcorn bowl and beer bottles on the
coffee table, putting the few dishes from the sink to the
dishwasher and starting it, and straightening up the bed.  He was
proud and relieved to realize he had actually washed the sheets
in the last week.

He had conveniently forgotten about the t-shirt by the time she
came out of the bathroom, her face scrubbed clean, freckles and
mole showing in all their fresh glory.  He gave her plenty of
room in the hall to work her way toward the bedroom before he
entered the bathroom himself.  He had the brief thought that it
must be love when he had to brush his teeth with a wet
toothbrush, one which Scully had obviously just used, and he
didn't have the slightest problem with it.

He was only in the bathroom for couple of minutes, but he'd been
gone long enough for her to root through his drawers and find a
clean t-shirt, which she had brought to her nose and was smelling
when he entered the bedroom.  She quickly brought the shirt down
to her side as if she had been caught with her hand in the
proverbial cookie jar.

"Is it okay if I wear this one?"  she asked nervously.

Mulder gave her a rueful smile before responding, "Remind me to
burn all my t-shirts tomorrow, Scully."

She just smiled smugly, then spent an uncalled for amount of time
arranging the t-shirt on the edge of the bed.  Mulder walked over
and sat down on the bed by the t-shirt and looked at her
patiently.

One red eyebrow arched as she said, "Are you going to watch me
change?"

XXXXX

His voice slid over her like a warm blanket when he responded,
"Do you mind?"

Did she mind?  Mind wasn't exactly the right word.
"Uncomfortable" was more like it.  Yes, he had seen her naked
before a couple of times, but never in this context.  Now, he was
sitting there on his bed two feet from her, looking into her eyes
intently.  She knew if she asked him to leave or turn his head he
would, but the fact that he wanted to watch her made her feel so
wanted, so womanly, that she made the decision to let him watch.

She didn't say anything, just slowly began to unbutton her
sweater starting with the top button, watching his face the
entire time.  From the moment she started unbuttoning, his eyes
had dropped to watch the path her hands were taking.  When she
had finished undoing the last button, she paused and his eyes
swung back up to hers.  She just wanted to make sure he was still
with her and not lost in some fantasy induced by one of those
videos he didn't own.

She slowly slid the sweater down her shoulders and off her arms
and laid it on the bed next to the t-shirt.  Mulder's eyes
meandered their way down from her face, to her neck, to the
delicateness of her collarbones, to the lacy, white pushup bra
she was wearing.  She spared a brief moment to thank God she had
worn pretty underwear today.  She could swear she felt her
breasts swell until they might spill over their scant encasements
as she watched him watching her.

At this point, she might have chickened out or become offended if
he had been ogling her or making light of this situation in any
way.  But he wasn't.  He was looking at her with the same sense
of awe and revelation that he reserved only for UFO's and
missing-link forest women.

She was brave, but she wasn't that brave, so she picked up the t-
shirt and donned it over her bra.  She avoided looking directly
at him because she didn't want to see the pathetic little boy
pout she was sure he was sporting right now.

She unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans and efficiently slid them
down her legs and off, making sure the t-shirt came down over her
panties before he could see them.  She removed her socks and laid
them on the bed with the sweater and jeans.  When she chanced a
glance his way, he was now looking at her legs.  Another prayer
of thanks went up that she had shaved that evening in the bath
she took before coming to Mulder's apartment.

When he realized she was watching him and not moving, Mulder's
attention was brought back to her face.  She could swear he was
telepathically communicating to her a single thought...*the bra,
Scully*.  She brought her arms around behind her back and
unsnapped her bra right through the t-shirt.  Next she pulled one
strap through one t-shirt sleeve and off that arm, then pulled
the entire bra off and out through the other sleeve.

When she was all done, she lifted the pile of clothes off the bed
and moved them over to rest on top of his dresser.  She had to
let out a little chuckle when he said, "And I thought that bra
trick was hot in Flashdance."

She was standing at the end of the bed, looking at it like it was
a huge lake she had to cross and she was trying to figure out all
the currents and depths and safety factors involved.  Finally,
she looked directly at him and said, "Where do you want me?"

XXXXX

*Where do I want you, Scully?  How about completely wrapped
around me?  Under me...on top?  Come on, Scully, don't ask me
such a loaded question.*

He knew she realized instantly how her question sounded when he
saw the flush that spread from her forehead to the nether regions
below the neckline of the t-shirt.  He had to smile.  She was so
adorable.

"Come here," he lifted his hand to her.  She came around the bed
to stand directly in front of him and take his hand.  Her hand
was slightly cold.  He knew she was nervous--she fairly oozed it
from every pore.  He'd have to see what he could do about warming
her up, in more ways than one.  He'd been hard as a rock since
she had started on the first button.  She had a lot of catching
up to do.

He parted his feet on the floor a little more to make room for
her to stand between his thighs and gently pulled her to within
an inch of his body.  He wrapped his hands around her hips, laid
his head against her ribcage and whispered, "Thank you."

He felt the quick rush of air that she exhaled stir the hair on
his head before she splayed the fingers of both hands gently
against his scalp.  He looked up at her and she tilted her chin
down to look him squarely in the eyes, one eyebrow slightly
raised of course.  If he read her expression correctly, which he
almost always could, she was wordlessly saying, 'Well, now what
are you going to do with me?'

He lightly and slowly trailed the fingertips of one hand down her
hip to the back of her thigh, then lower still to the back of her
knee.  The blood in his veins surged in a last ditch effort to
fill his erection even more when he felt her shiver.

He wrapped his hand around the back of her knee and began to
gently pull her leg up and over his.  She had to place her hands
on his shoulders to keep her balance.  She didn't put up a single
protest when he brought his other hand to the back of her other
knee, silently suggesting that that leg be brought up too so she
could straddle his lap.  He was elated when she complied without
protest and he found his lap full of Scully, up close, warm,
open.  Most definitely open.

"This is very....intimate," she said breathlessly as she looked
down at herself spread-eagled on his lap.

He looked down too, couldn't have stopped himself from looking if
a little gray alien had suddenly appeared right next to him and
asked him to go for a ride.  The t-shirt had ridden up her thighs
by necessity.  He couldn't actually see her panties, had yet to
see them so far at all, as a matter of fact, but he knew they
were less than an inch beyond the now scandalously high hem of
the t-shirt.

When he finally brought his eyes back up to her face, he saw that
she was smirking.  She knew what kind of effect she had on him,
and she loved it.  God this was going to be so good.

He could smell her.  The perfume she sometimes wore that never
failed to bring him to attention at a mere whiff.  Her breath,
which was always sweet to him, mingled with the mint from his
toothpaste that she had pilfered.  And underneath it all, the
heady smell of woman, opened to him like a gift.  Combined, it
was completely intoxicating and he had to mentally snap his brain
back to attention so he could focus on how to get closer to the
tantalizing flesh sitting so sweetly in his lap.

By now, his erection had caught the scent too, and its head was
attempting to peek out of his underwear, still covered by his
pants, trying to spot the prey it had sensed was coming near.
*Down boy*, he mentally chastised.

He looked down at her thighs, spread for him, so white and soft.
Utterly irresistible.  He brought both of his hands down, one on
each perfect thigh, and slowly stroked his palms up and around
her hips, bringing them to rest on her rear.  Then he looked into
her eyes as he slowly pulled her across his lap toward him, not
stopping until he brought her right up against his erection.

She had been holding her breath from the moment he had touched
her thighs, and had stiffened at the point of contact.  Now, he
felt her consciously relax her body against him, which made her
slide down against his raging hard on in a sinfully delicious
way.  He inhaled the sharp sigh she let out at the friction of
hard against soft.

With his hands still holding each side of her rear, he brought
his lips to within an inch of hers and answered her earlier
innocent yet loaded query.  "*This* is where I want you."

XXXXX

Scully could hardly stand all the stimulation.  His hands were on
her ass.  Her thighs were spread about as wide as they could
possibly get to accommodate him, and between said thighs, the
center of her was pressed up against his very impressive, very
hard erection.  She was pretty much overwhelmed--the smell of
him, the feel of him, the vulnerability of her current position--
she knew she had very little control of her own actions anymore.
Mulder was playing her like an instrument, and they both knew she
would sing as sweetly or as loudly as he wanted.

She was hardly aware that she had raised her hips once more
against him until she felt the sharp tingle of impending orgasm
on her way back down.  He moaned an anguished, "Scully," against
her collarbone and she felt his fingers flex into her backside as
he tensed up.  She started to raise herself against him again,
she had to feel that again, had to hear him moan again, but
before she could move more than an inch, his hands had wrapped
around her hips and he held her still against him as he breathed
heavily against her.

He brought his mouth up to her ear, and in the lowest, harshest
voice she had ever heard come out of his mouth said, "Scully, if
you keep doing that, I'm going to embarrass myself."

She was already violently aroused, slippery wet, and he hadn't
even kissed her yet.  Really had barely even touched her.  She
willed her body to calm down.  *Relax, slow down, relax, slow
down*.  It became a mantra in her head.

He began to stroke her back with both hands under the t-shirt.
She buried her head in his neck as he lulled her with the new
sensation of feeling his skin against her skin.  Slowly, her
breathing became less erratic, and she relaxed again in his lap,
her head on his shoulder and her mound pressed snugly against
him.

When she felt his thumbs stroke down her sides from her armpits
to her waist, dangerously close to the sides of her breasts, she
let out a little shiver.

"Are you cold?" he whispered softly in her ear.  Her nose was
still against his neck, so she just shook her head.

"Good.  Then I guess we won't be needing this."  He began to lift
the hem of the t-shirt up, over her hips, under her arms, and she
automatically lifted her head and raised her arms so that he
could remove the shirt the rest of the way.  Her arms came back
down to her sides as he tossed the t-shirt into some dark corner
of the bedroom.

He didn't immediately drop his gaze to look at her body, though.
Instead he looked straight into her eyes, gauging her reaction to
being bared before him.  She was self-conscious about the size of
her breasts.  Based on the women he had been with in the past she
knew that larger breasts must be his preference.  But she was
confident enough in the way he felt about her to be brave enough
to go on.

She didn't cover herself up with her arms, she didn't say a word,
but she did return his look with a slight tilting up of one side
of her mouth and, of course, she raised one eyebrow.  It was a
challenge, to be sure.  Thank God Mulder never backed down from a
challenge.

XXXXX

Mulder gave her a few seconds to flee, but when she quirked her
mouth and sent him that look, he knew he'd been given the green
light to look and touch to his heart's content.  It was all he
could do not to lick his chops and rub his hands together with
greedy glee.  But he was determined to take this slowly.  He was
a starved man who had been offered a feast, but he wasn't about
to gobble it all down in one bite.  He was going to savor this.

His heated gaze began a languid exploration of all the skin he
could see.  He started with her neck, which he had seen countless
times but still held endless fascination for him.  It was so
smooth and white, so graceful.  He unconsciously pulled the side
of his lower lip between his teeth as he fantasized about
nibbling on her beautiful neck.  But there would be time for that
later, and just now he had further terrain to discover.

He reached out one finger to gently trace her collarbone from
shoulder to shoulder, amazed at how delicately she was built, how
incredibly small-boned she was.  When his finger traced over a
scar on her shoulder he brought his finger to his lips, kissed
it, then pressed that finger-kiss into the scar.

She laid her hand over his idle one that was resting on her thigh
and squeezed it to thank him.  He brought that hand up to his
lips, looked into her eyes as he tenderly kissed her palm, and
placed her hand back on her thigh.

Then he put both of his hands on her hips at the top edge of her
panties.  He slowly smoothed his palms up her sides until his
thumbs rested just under her breasts.  He took a moment to tease
them both by caressing his thumbs up the undersides of her
breasts, on a direct path to, but not quite reaching, her nipples
before skimming them back down to rest underneath.

He then brought his hands around so that his thumbs came together
on her breastbone and trailed them down her torso.  He stopped
when he reached a scar that was still faintly pink right in the
center of her stomach.  A brief look of pain crossed over his
face as he remembered the bastard who had been assigned to watch
her back and instead had ended up shooting her at close range and
almost killed her.   He snapped out of his dark reverie when he
felt her fingers splay through his hair in an effort to comfort
him.

He continued down, stopping next at her belly button, one of his
thumbs dipping inside, then swirling around it.  That same thumb
then swooped down to the ultra soft skin between her belly button
and the top of her lacy white bikini underwear and stroked back
and forth several times.  His reward for being so bold was Scully
curling one hand around his neck to bring his forehead to hers as
she raised and lowered her hips against him and exhaled a
breathy, "Mulder," against his lips.

He wrapped an arm around her hips in an attempt to keep her from
rubbing up against him like a cat again.  God, she made him feel
like he could crush steel with his bare hands.  He gently
captured her upper lip between his own and ran his tongue slowly
just inside her upper lip from corner to corner.  He carefully
schooled his voice not to sound harsh or commanding, but what he
said next ended up coming out deep and slightly commanding
anyway.   "Lean back and put your hands on my knees, Scully," he
said against her open mouth.

XXXXX

It took her a few seconds to mentally process his request, then a
few more seconds to decide whether she wanted to make herself
even more vulnerable to him than she already was.  She did once
again what she had been doing periodically since he had asked her
to stay the night.  She looked into his eyes, reconnecting with
him, reminding herself that this was Mulder, the person she
trusted most in this world.

So she did as he asked, bringing her arms behind her and leaning
back slightly to rest her hands on his knees.  She watched as his
eyes raked over her, finally, finally settling on her breasts,
which he'd had yet to directly look at since he'd bared them by
removing her t-shirt.

Her back involuntarily arched a bit under the heat of his gaze.
Her breasts felt so full, so round, and her nipples had been hard
and sensitized for so long that she was becoming afraid it might
hurt if he ever actually touched them.

He reached both hands around her to place his fingertips on her
lower back, and raised his eyes to hers.  The color of his eyes,
usually hard to pin down, was definitely a smoky green.  Scully
had come to the conclusion over the years that when his eyes
looked mostly green, he was at his happiest.

"You're so beautiful," he breathed in reverence.  She valiantly
blinked back tears and swallowed down more emotion than she could
be expected to handle.  The way he was looking at her made her
feel like the most beautiful woman in the universe.

Goose bumps broke out all over her body and she squirmed a bit as
he began to stroke his fingers up her back in a feather soft
touch.  At the same time he began to lean toward her.  A corner
of his mouth hitched up as he realized she was ticklish on her
back.  "No wiggling," he instructed in a mock-stern voice, and
she instantly tamed her wiggling to a mere tremble.

When his fingers had skimmed up to her shoulder blades and his
mouth was within inches of her breasts, he looked down, then
lowered his mouth over a pebbled nipple.  The breath expelled out
of her body in a rush and she began that erratic breathing thing
all over again.  She could feel his tongue swirling around and
stroking her nipple and it was sending electric shock waves
through her body.  She hadn't had this kind of a response in her
breasts since high school.  She had sadly chalked it up to some
elusive grand sensation only virgins get to experience because no
one had ever made her feel it since.  Until Mulder.  She should
have known he would be talented with that tongue.  God knows he
certainly exercised it enough--talking incessantly, sucking on
seeds, gnawing pencils, you name it.

He had brought one arm down her back to still her hips, which had
started grinding against him again.  The other hand had come
around to her side underneath her arm to stroke the outside of
the breast he had been neglecting.

When he lightly trailed his fingertips across that nipple, her
hips shoved against him forcefully enough to generate some much
sought after friction and they moaned in unison.  His grip around
her hips tightened, and he stopped tonguing her long enough to
drop his forehead to her breast and plea with her, "I'm barely in
control here, Scully.  Have a little mercy."

Her hips stilled again and he then went back to playing, this
time with the other breast.  The hand that was now free began to
stroke down her stomach, his thumb again getting distracted with
her belly button.  He left his hand there, thumb moving in and
out of her navel, mimicking the age-old dance that both their
bodies were prepared for and desperate to enact.  She was still
trembling and squirming against him as much as he would let her,
and the abdomen muscles under his hand were working overtime.

He continued laving her nipples, occasionally kissing and licking
around them or nibbling a path from one to the other.  She was
becoming desperate to touch him, but in this position she really
couldn't touch him since her hands had to support her at this
angle.  She spared a brief moment to lament the fact that he
still had his shirt on so she couldn't even rub her stomach
against his.  She appeased herself with the thought that, at the
rate they were going, they would probably be at this for a long
time and there would be plenty of opportunity to run her hands
all over his gorgeous body later.

She hadn't realized his hand had been on the move until she felt
his thumb dip inside the top of her underwear.  He was caressing
her skin, just above her triangle of hair, and suddenly she was
very aware of that hand.  Mulder must have sensed that she had
become preoccupied with the happenings down below because he had
stopped toying with her breasts and was now sitting up watching
her with eyes turned dark gray with desire.

His thumb was slow but relentless, stroking just a tad lower each
time it made a sweep.  He had reached the top of her auburn
curls.  It suddenly hit Scully just how monumental this moment
was.  For some reason it was okay for him to touch her everywhere
else, but for him to touch her here was so intimate it took her
breath away.

Once again, she tried to look into his eyes and see her Mulder,
reconnect with him.  But he chose that moment to finally sweep
his thumb across the slickness over her clit, and she was
instantly, completely lost.  She was dimly aware that she moaned
a husky, "Oh, God," then she allowed her head to drop back and
submitted to his ministrations.

XXXXX

*Jesus H. Christ*.  She was so damned hot and wet it was making
his head spin.  Who the hell's bright idea was it to take this
slowly, anyway?  Most of his hand was inside her underwear, his
thumb alternately stroking her clit and sliding down to burrow
inside her, which is exactly what his rock hard cock was begging
to do.

But, God, she was beautiful, all spread out on display before
him, basically letting him have his way with her.  He had
fantasized about this at least a thousand times, but it hadn't
come close to preparing him the reality of it.  Her creamy soft
body flushed pink with arousal.  Her nipples rock hard and
pointing right at him.  Her smooth white thighs clenched around
him.  And here, at the center of her, she was hot and swollen,
smelling like one hundred percent woman, slick and wet in total
readiness to receive him.

She really was a feast, and he was really trying to savor.
Honest, he was.  But it was hard not to give in to his baser
needs, bury himself deep inside her, and pound against her until
they both forgot their own names.

She was moaning now and he was unable to keep her writhing hips
still while he was concentrating on her response, so he was just
gritting his teeth and bearing it while he stroked her torso and
breasts with his free hand and allowed her free rein to move as
she pleased.  And move she did, right up against him, the crotch
of her panties saturated, stroking him rhythmically into
insanity.

Then her movements slowed and her body had tensed up, drawn tight
like a bow.  She was concentrating on her approaching release,
and he suddenly had the urge to taste her, to really taste her.
Although he had high hopes about a repeat performance in the
future, he wasn't positive he'd ever be here again, so he had to
memorize her own unique flavor so that he could draw on it during
future fantasies.  Also, he wasn't sure if she was the kind of
woman who could orgasm more than once during love-making, and he
was determined to feel her come apart with himself buried deep
inside of her at least once in his lifetime.

He stilled the movements of his thumb against her clit and she
whimpered and brought her head up to look at him in shock.

"Easy, Scully," he gentled her.  He soothingly caressed her
stomach and sides in an effort to calm the raging going on
inside.

He wrapped an arm around her to pull her to him and brought his
mouth to hers in a deep kiss that was a promise of pleasures yet
to come.  While he kissed her, he rose and turned to lay her down
on the bed, her legs dangling over the edge.  When she began to
pull at his shirt, he broke the kiss and allowed her to whisk it
off over his head and send it flying to the floor.

She pulled his face back down to hers and whispered urgently
against his mouth, "Mulder...".

He didn't give her a chance to finish her thought.  He dragged
his tongue across her lower lip.  "I want to taste you," he
whispered into her open mouth as he slowly peeled her panties
down and off her body.

His intentions became clear when he parted her legs at the end of
the bed with one of his knees and began to retreat down her body.
Instantly she tensed, pulled him back up to her and began her
protest, her voice raspy with unsuppressed desire,  "No, Mulder.
I don't need that."  Her hands shot down to the waistband of his
pants.

He grabbed her hands in one of his and slowly pulled them up over
her head to rest against the mattress.  "I do," he said as he
leaned over her.  "I need to taste you."

She studied him, his eyes intently focused on hers, his
expression gentle yet determined as he silently willed her to
allow him to do this.

When she finally whispered, "Okay," both his heart and his cock
heaved in a surge of gratitude, and a wide and wicked smile
spread across his face.  He reached over to snag a pillow and
released her hands as he placed it under her head.  "So you can
watch if you want," he quietly explained.  His grin made a
reappearance when he noticed the sudden blush that spread from
her forehead to her chest.

"I'll be bock," he teased in his best Schwartzenegger imitation,
then his smile transformed into the look of a predator as he
crawled his way down her body to kneel on the floor between her
legs.

She squirmed a little as he began kissing and nibbling his way up
the inside of one of her thighs.  Her scent was strong now, and
it was drawing him like the scent of fresh clean water draws a
man who has been lost in the desert for forty days.  His hand
rose to caress up the other thigh, stroking up and around her
pelvic bone area and coming to rest on her lower belly just
brushing her delicate curls.

He kissed his way to her juncture, around the perimeter of her
triangle of auburn curls, and then buried his nose against her
and took in her very essence in one long inhalation.  He paused
for a moment and shuddered, struggling to regain control, before
breathing, "Scullleee," in a hot rush of reverence against her
core.

XXXXX

When he sighed her name against her flesh, Scully swam through
the fog around her brain to bring her head up and watch him.  He
raised his head to look at her and she almost whimpered at the
fierce passion in his eyes.  If she didn't know better, she would
say he looked drugged--eyelids drooping, jawline tense, pupils
dilated so that his eyes looked almost black in the dim lighting
from the bedside lamp.

He held her gaze as he lowered his mouth to her opening, his
tongue snaking down to take his first sample of her.

Her head dropped back to the pillow and her back arched as she
moaned, "Ohmigod," at the first touch of his tongue to her.  He
very slowly dragged it up her center to stop at her clit and
circle lazily around it once before retracting his tongue back to
his beautiful mouth to discover her taste.

"Delicious," he mumbled against her as he went back down for
more.  Her restless hands were now buried in his hair,
alternately stroking and fisting handfuls as she writhed beneath
his attentions.

The storm was building within her again and she felt powerless to
stop it.  She was completely at his mercy.  *He owns me* was a
distant thought in her head.

He continued to lick and nibble on her as he brought one index
finger up to circle around her opening, sliding in the hot juices
he had summoned from her body.  She was so hot, so swollen,
so....God, so *horny*.  If he would just stick with any one spot
down there for about five seconds she knew she could shoot off
like a rocket, but he continued to unhurriedly sample her
everywhere, teasing her to the point where she was about to beg.

When he slowly dipped his index finger inside her up to the
second knuckle, her back bowed and she moaned out loud.  "More.
Please, Mulder.  More," she pleaded huskily.

With his finger still inside of her, he grew still.  His other
hand had slid under her to grasp her one of her buttocks, and she
felt the fingers of that hand tense and begin to dig into her
flesh slightly.  He laid his forehead against her curls in
worship and breathed several deep but unsteady breaths against
her in an obvious attempt to regain a semblance of control.

She was breathing rather shallowly herself.  She tugged slightly
on his hair to get his attention.  She had to bite her own finger
to keep from crying out as he rewarded her by slowly withdrawing
his finger, circling slickly around her opening once more with
that finger, then rising to stand above her.  His focus was so
intent on her that she felt like she was being hunted.

She would never in a million years admit what a primitive thrill
she got out of feeling like his prey.

He was just staring at her, right into her eyes, as if he was
waiting for her to say something so he could go on.  She raised
up onto her elbows, thinking that she might have to speak to him
to snap him out of his reverie, but he chose at that moment to
place one of his knees on the bed beside her thigh, reach behind
her to snag the pillow and toss it away, and wrap an arm
underneath her hips to lift her and drag her more fully onto the
bed.  She rose up onto an elbow to watch as he began to drag his
pants and boxers down his body and off to land in a heap on the
floor.

*Okay, this is it*, she thought with only a small amount of
panic.  *The main event.  The big one.  Literally.*  She had
known that he was proportionate all over, she *had* seen him
naked a couple of times.  She'd even caught a few glimpses of a
hidden erection over the years.  But she'd never seen him both
naked and erect at the same time, and the combination was...well,
it was downright captivating.  God he was magnificent, the most
beautiful man she had ever seen.  And he was hers, at least for
now.  She would worry about more permanent arrangements later.
Just now, he was looking at her with such love and desire in his
eyes that she was certain she had been singed by the heat.

He was crawling up to settle his body gently over hers, covering
her in a living blanket of warmth.  They both took a moment to
relish the new sensation of full body contact, skin against skin
everywhere, from head to...well, toes in her case, shins in his.
He was rock hard against her softness and was trembling with the
effort to not immediately start moving against her.

He gave her a small appreciative smile when she parted her legs
to accommodate him better and wrapped them around his so that her
heels could settle against the backs of his calves.

"Mulder, your feet are hanging off the bed," she gently
admonished him, as if he didn't already know that.

With a wicked leer, he responded, "Scully, in a few minutes, I'm
going to be buried so deeply inside of you that I won't even know
or care what feet are."

*Ohhhkaayy*.

XXXXX

Her mouth popped open in surprise at his audacity and his smile
grew to a full-fledged grin when he realized he had rendered her
speechless.  She was so cute when she was off balance.  Then it
was his turn to be off balance when her expression changed to
naughty and sensual as she sighed, "Promises, promises."

*Christ, she was going to kill him before this was over.*  He
brought his forehead down to rest next to her head on the pillow
as he released a soft chuckle.

There was a moment of silence while they both adjusted to the
enormity of what was about to happen.

"This is so profound a moment that I can hardly wrap my brain
around it," he mumbled into the pillow next to her ear.

She turned her head to nuzzle her nose into his ear and saucily
replied, "That's probably because there's no blood left in your
head to operate your brain, Mulder."

Goosebumps zigzagged their way down his spine and he chuckled
again into the pillow.  Just to remind her who was in charge
here, he flexed his hips against her, reveling in her sharp
intake of breath in reaction.

He raised his head to look at her.  He could see so much love in
her eyes that it instantly sobered him.

"Are you ready for this?" he whispered, studying her face for any
signs of apprehension during this last moment before takeoff.

She had caught the serious mood too, and her eyes were glittering
pools of sapphire as she told him without words that she was
touched by his concern.  She curled a hand around the back of his
neck and slowly nodded as she whispered, "I'm ready."

His eyes dropped to her lips briefly before returning to her
loving gaze.  "You know how I feel about you, don't you?"

She graced him with that tender smile she seemed to reserve only
for him, and smoothed the hair back from his forehead in a
gesture that he had long ago equated with a declaration of love
from her.  Then she brought that hand to lie against the side of
his face as she tenderly stroked his eyebrow with her thumb.

"I know, Mulder," she whispered.  "I know."

He lowered his lips to hers in the most exquisite of kisses, his
heart near to bursting as he wordlessly professed his love for
her in the only way he currently would allow himself.  She
responded whole-heartedly, making love to his mouth like he had
never felt before from anyone.

The feel of her tongue tangling so sensually with his had caused
his erection once again to start throbbing impatiently.  He
gently broke the kiss and raised his hips away from her a couple
of inches.  His eyes never left hers as he placed a hand on the
inside of her thigh behind her knee and drew her leg further up
and out to open her more fully to him.  She brought her other leg
up into the same position of her own accord.

Still focusing intently on her shimmering blue gaze, he lowered
himself until his tip was gently probing at her slick entrance.
God, she felt like his own private Heaven, all slippery and hot
and ready for him.

His eyelids dropped closed involuntarily when a wave of
tenderness rushed over him and brought tears to his eyes and left
him trembling.  He felt her hands smooth down his shoulder blades
and he opened his eyes to once again gauge her reaction.  She
looked so beautiful, so sensual, with a look of serenity on her
face and her mouth parted to draw in unsteady puffs of air.  He
was in such awe of her.  He linked the fingers of both his hands
with hers and brought their joined hands up to rest beside her
face.

Then he began to enter her.  Slowly.  So slowly.  Carefully
watching her for any signs that she might be uncomfortable.  She
was incredibly tight and so small all over that he had to wonder
if he might be hurting her.  He didn't think he was really huge,
it's just that he *was* a much bigger person than she was.

So far she seemed to be doing okay.  She was gripping his hands
like a lifeline, but he was pretty sure she wasn't even aware of
it.

When he reached about three quarters of the way into her, her
eyes rolled back into her head as she moaned, "OhMyGod."  Her
fingers flexed open between his as she adjusted her hips a
little.  He had stopped moving and could feel her trying to relax
around him.  He couldn't tell if she was in extreme pleasure or
pain.  He only knew that she was gripping him like a vise and it
was all he could do not to forcefully bury himself deep inside
her.

It must have dawned on her that he had stopped moving and was
waiting for her because she raised her head off the bed to suck
his lower lip into her mouth and bite it.

Here husky demand for, "More," almost sent him over the edge.  He
let go of her hands and moved his to cradle each side of her head
as he slowly buried himself the rest of the way inside her.

Her muscles were rock hard with tension, and he could swear he
could feel her heartbeat all around his cock, rhythmically
stroking him until he thought he might burst.  He remained still,
buried to the hilt, as he lowered his forehead to hers and
breathed heavily against her.

"Are you with me, Scully?" he rasped.

No answer, but he could feel her once again relaxing around him,
becoming accustomed to the invasion he brought upon her.

"Scully?"

Her eyes opened, and he was stunned by how dilated her pupils
were.  A complete look of contentment washed over her features
and she smiled that sweet little Mona Lisa smile.

"I'm so with you, Mulder."

He raised his head to smile approvingly at her.  What a trooper.
He leaned down to gently bite her earlobe, then lick the spot in
apology.

He grinned against her ear as he said, in his best suggestive
70's swinger voice, "Well then, let's get it on."

XXXXX

She let out a throaty laugh at his comment, then sucked in a
sharp breath when he raised his head to watch her as he withdrew
halfway and slowly plunged back inside her.

She had never felt so full, so complete in her life.  So far,
this was so much better than she had ever imagined it, and she
was feeling a little giddy at the enormity of it all.

She flashed him a wicked grin as she flexed and gripped her
internal muscles around him once, and was rewarded with a sharp
hiss from him.

"I'm not going to last five seconds if you continue to do that,
Scully," he warned against her parted lips.

She snaked a tongue inside his mouth to stroke around the inside
of his upper lip.  "Just making sure you're paying attention,
Mulder," she informed him cheekily.

He raised his head and his eyes were glittering with mirth and
appreciation as he replied, "Believe me, Scully.  You have my
complete, undivided attention at this moment."

Then he began to move inside of her in an agonizingly slow rhythm
and her light mood disappeared under the assault of the sensation
of being possessed by him.  The fever deep inside her core was
getting hotter and hotter.

Most of the time, she couldn't keep her eyes open, the pleasure
was too intense.  But occasionally she would open her eyes to
seek him out, and he was always right above her, watching her
reactions, moving against her and into her in relentless pursuit
of mutual ecstasy.

She tried to speed him up, frantically running her hands over his
back and down to his buttocks to grip and pull.  But he was
having none of that nonsense.  He made it very clear that at
least for this moment, he was driving, so she settled in to enjoy
the ride.

He placed his hand on one of her knees and raised her leg to rest
against her body.  *Oh, God.  Yes, Mulder, there.*  That must be
her g-spot.  She had read so much about it, but hadn't thought
that hers was very sensitive because she had never felt it
before.  But, oh, this was definitely it.  On every downstroke he
was literally taking her breath away by rubbing against that
magical, elusive spot.  And he was pressing against her cervix at
the end of every thrust, the timing of which was still
maddeningly slow and hypnotic.

She reasoned that it didn't matter how fast they went, because
whatever he was doing was working just fine.  She had begun to
moan in time with his movements, mostly saying things like "Mmm"
or "Yessss" or "Mulderrr", to which he responded, "I'm here,
Scully.  I'm with you."  He brought her other leg up and braced
his arms behind both her knees to help support her new position,
then began to plunge with a little more urgency and more
forcefully into her.  He began to end each thrust with a little
twist of his hips that effectively ground against her clit in a
wholly captivating way.

It was too overwhelming.  It was torture.  It was like being
tickled to death.  She didn't know if she wanted him to stop or
to go on forever.  She raised her lids enough for a sliver of
vision to peek through, which was all her over-sensitized body
was willing to allow her, and saw him still watching her, his
lower lip between his teeth in concentration, gracefully pumping
against her for all he was worth.

She forced her eyes to open a little more and began to run her
palms up the sides of his face, to his temples, through his hair,
restlessly roaming around his ears to his throat then up again to
his cheeks.  He leaned on one elbow as he continued pounding into
her, and raised his hand to bring one of her palms to his mouth,
in the center of which he placed a wet, open-mouthed kiss.  She
turned her hand over and gently gripped his jaw and chin as she
ran her index finger along his lips until he opened up and let
her finger inside.  The feeling of him sucking on her finger
brought her dangerously close to the edge.

She could feel her body readying for release under his heated
gaze.  He continued to suck her finger while her body went still
and quiet and rigid underneath his.  She could feel it coming.
God, it was going to be huge.  A few more strokes and she was
going to come apart.

Stroke one.  She curled a hand around his neck and brought his
mouth down to hers.  Stroke two.  She snaked her tongue out to
capture his in a short but heated dance.  Stroke three.  She
breathed, "Don't stop," against his parted panting lips.  Stroke
four.  Her back arched high and she ground her hips against his.

"Oh, God....Mulder," dragged out of her throat and she sailed
right over the edge of the cliff.

XXXXX

*Jesus H. Christ.*

He ground his teeth together in a valiant effort not to explode
deep inside of her.  The first clenching of her body around his
rock-hard cock nearly sent him over the edge with her.

He watched her face as she came apart all around him.  She looked
like she was in intense pain, but he knew by her throaty moans
and the way she was twisting against him that she was having one
hell of an orgasm.  He knew he would hear her crying out to God
and "Mull...Mulda" (which he assumed referred to himself) in his
dreams for the rest of his life.

Her internal muscles were gripping him over and over for all he
was worth.  It felt like she was trying to suck his very soul
right out through his groin.

Christ, she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.  He took
mental snapshots of her in all her glory before he began to feel
himself start to slide under with her.

He couldn't fight it anymore, didn't want to.  She was still
coming hard on him, and he could feel his own impending release
start to gather in the base of his spine.  He could hear his
blood pounding in his head as well as feel it in his erection.
He continued to grind against her, prolonging her climax and
rushing his own along as well.  He knew one or two more strokes
and it was a done deal.

He buried his face into her neck and wasn't even aware that he
bit her not-so-gently as he felt his cock fill in a heated rush.
One more stroke and he was there, shouting out her name into her
neck with the first spurt of his seed deep into her body.

Her walls continued to milk him, and he shuddered violently as
wave after wave of scalding fluid burst from his body to be
received by hers.  He was moaning nonsense into her neck by now
in his delirium.  He distantly felt her legs wrap around his hips
and her arms rise to enclose him in a tight embrace while he
repeatedly spilled himself into her.

After a few more seconds of unimaginable pleasure, the storm was
over and he was left trembling.  He slumped against her, panting
into the pillow in an attempt to draw in oxygen for his overtaxed
body.  He turned his head more toward Scully's on the pillow to
allow himself more fresh air.

He could hear her labored breathing next to him.  He tried to
tell her that he would get off her and let her breathe in just a
minute if she could wait that long.  It came out sounding
something like, "Jushaminuhscull."

So he gave up and surrendered to the complete and utter bliss of
lying spent wrapped in Scully's warm embrace.

XXXXX

Lying underneath him, wrapped around him, Scully's heart was
filled to overflowing with such all-encompassing love that it
brought tears to her eyes.  Her breathing had returned to mostly
normal, although occasionally she would have a flash back to
Mulder riding her through the most incredible orgasm of her
entire life and her breath would give a little hitch and her
internal muscles would contract around him.

She lowered her legs, which had become stiff, and began to stroke
his back while he regained awareness of his surroundings.

"I think I just ruptured something," he stated lazily next to her
ear.  She had to let out a little chuckle at that and she felt
his rapidly shrinking penis start to slip out of her a little
bit.

He raised his head to look at her, and said, "Ah oh.  I think
Elvis has left the building, Scully."  This earned him a quick
grin in sympathy.

"Ahhh.  But he put on quite a show, didn't he," she teased.

His mouth swooped down to hers for a quick but tender kiss before
he withdrew and rolled off her to lie on his back beside her.
She turned sideways to try to minimize the wet spot on the
comforter and snuggled up against his side with his arm around
her.

Her body was so relaxed that she knew it was only a matter of
minutes before sleep dragged her under.  She started to rise from
the bed to go clean up but he brought her back down with a hand
on her arm.

"Stay here.  I'll go get something."

So she waited in his bed, lying naked on top of the comforter.
He returned after a few seconds with a warm wet washcloth and sat
down on the bed beside her hips.  She was slightly embarrassed
when she realized his intentions and unconsciously scissored her
legs together.

Hazel eyes met blue, and he gently ordered, "Open up for me,
Scully."

They had a battle of wills for a moment before she relented
simply because she was too tired and satisfied to protest.  She
laid back on the pillows, parted her thighs enough to give him
access, and allowed him to slowly and gently clean her up.

He got up to take the washcloth back to the bathroom and returned
with a glass of water for her, which she drank from greedily.
All that heavy breathing sure could sure make a girl parched.

She had watched him walk around naked and un-self-conscious
throughout the whole washcloth/water exercise.  In a way, this
seemed almost as intimate as making love did earlier.  Suddenly
she had the right and the privilege to view his body in all its
masculinity.  He was built so beautifully.  It should be a crime
to make a grown woman work with such a specimen for seven years
without ever getting to play with him.

He pulled back the covers and she scooted under them before he
crawled in beside her.  He set his alarm for work the following
morning, then turned off the lamp and snuggled down next to her.
They lay facing each other on a pillow, legs entwined, his arm
underneath her head.

He raised his hand so that he could tuck a curl behind her ear.
"We're okay with this, aren't we?"

She had to smile at his insecurity.  "I can't speak for you,
Mulder, but I'm *very* okay with this."

His teeth flashed against the dark in a grin.  "Yeah.  Me too."

He brought his mouth to hers in a sweet, post-coital goodnight
kiss.  She released a contented and sleepy sigh.

His voice was soft when he confessed, "I know I've never told you
this, Scully, but I think you're the most incredibly beautiful,
amazing woman on Earth."

Her heart skipped a beat at this admission, which meant so much
to her that it brought tears to her eyes.  She gave him one more
sweet kiss to thank him, then grinned as she informed him, "Hmmm.
And it only took you seven years to figure it out."

He just chuckled softly, then tucked her head into the crook of
his arm.  "Go to sleep, Scully," he ordered.

And they both succumbed to the deep slumber of the truly
exhausted and satisfied.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Continued in part 3
 

About Two Weeks Later
Bellefleur, Oregon
 

"There has to be an end sometime, Scully," he whispered raggedly
next to her ear.

He was breaking her heart.  She knew he didn't mean an end to
their new involvement, but rather he was talking about her
quitting the X-Files.  But even that was painful to contemplate.
It would mean they wouldn't be able to see each other nearly as
often, she wouldn't be able to watch his back for him, take care
of him when he was hurt out in the field.  He would be out of
town on cases constantly and she would be left home to miss him.

She knew he would miss her too.  It had been two weeks since the
night he had asked her to stay with him and they had made love.
Since then, he had been effectively courting her, taking her to
real dinners at real restaurants, calling her just to tell her he
was thinking about her, holding her hand when they were alone,
and kissing her socks off every chance he got.  They hadn't made
love again since that first time--both of them seemed to be
uneasy with such a quick transition from a relationship where
they had no sex, to one where they had it constantly.  So, they
were both enjoying the deliciousness of mutual anticipation,
knowing that it would happen again spontaneously at some point
soon.

Ironically, Mulder's incessant and blatant flirting had toned
down quite a bit, indicating to her delight that he was taking
their new arrangement seriously.  They had talked about more
personal things--their previous relationships, their upbringings,
a few secrets each had never told anyone else.  She could now
honestly say he knew her better than anyone and vice versa.

And now he was asking her to walk away from the one thing that
brought them together.  Why did there have to be an end sometime?

She turned over to face him.  "Why now, Mulder," she whispered,
tears clogging her throat.

He thought about it a moment, touching a fingertip to her
cheekbone in a tender caress, before replying quietly, "Because
for the first time since we met, my overwhelming selfish need to
have you with me constantly has been eclipsed by my desire to see
you happy."

A couple of tears escaped to trail down her cheeks.  Her heart
was swollen with suppressed emotion.  She couldn't leave their
work, couldn't bear to, because she knew now with certainty that
her own selfish need to be with him was eclipsing her own pie-in-
the-sky dreams.  She was now convinced happiness wasn't possible
for her unless Mulder was a huge part of the picture.

Not to mention the fact that he needed her in their work, to keep
him safe, to keep him sane.  And she knew too much now to go back
to the blissfully ignorant existence of the 9-to-5 world.

"You don't know what would make me happy," she choked out.

"I know that you want to have a child.  That you would be the
best mother in the world," he told her gently.  When more tears
started to escape and run down her face in rivulets, he wiped
them off with his thumbs and went on.

"And I can help you with that.  We can find a way together."

God, what she wouldn't give to have a child with this man.  She
was speechless, drowning in glimpses of a future she wanted so
badly she could taste it, knowing from their recent IVF attempt
just how futile these hopes were.

"I need to know that you're safe, Scully.  And....and fulfilled.
That you're not wasting your future because of me."

He traced her eyebrow with his thumb. "We can do this, Scully.
We can have a halfway normal life.  We just have to make a few
adjustments, that's all."

He bent his head to hers in a tender kiss.  "Just promise me
you'll think about it," he entreated softly against her lips.

She didn't answer, was incapable of words at the moment.  She
didn't want to think about leaving their work, walking away from
their history, forgetting all of the trauma they had suffered
together.  All she wanted was to pull Mulder completely around
her and lose herself in him forever.

"Hold me, Mulder," she whispered.

His look became intense.  They both were well aware she hadn't
promised to think about the subject at hand, but she knew he
wouldn't push her.

So, he crawled underneath the covers next to her, wrapped her in
a cocoon made up of his entire body and held her as reality
slowly drifted away to be replaced by dreams of an alien ship in
a dark forest, searching for something incredibly important in a
hot desert, and of holding a tiny, sweet smelling baby in her
arms.
 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
 

The Next Evening
Mulder's Apartment
 

Mulder had just finished packing his suitcase and was about to
call Scully when he heard her distinctive footsteps in the
hallway outside his door and a familiar anticipation swept over
him.  It was starting to feel like he wasn't even complete unless
she was with him.  Hell, who was he kidding.  He'd felt like that
since practically day one.

He opened the door before she finished knocking.  She offered no
smile, no greeting, just stood there looking sad and tired, with
that little crease between her brows that she always got when she
was worried or agitated.

After a few seconds of silent communication, he reached out a
hand, she accepted it, and he pulled her into the privacy of his
apartment, shutting out the world beyond his front door.

He didn't let her hand go, just began walking toward his bedroom,
Scully trailing quietly behind him.

"I just finished packing.  Need to make sure I didn't forget
anything," he informed her as he let go of her hand and indicated
she should sit on his bed.

She looked down in resignation at the contents of his suitcase,
then watched him prowl through one of his drawers in which he
kept electronic devices which he had either stumbled upon
himself, or the Gunmen had rigged for him in the past.  He liked
to call it his Spy Stash.

When he was sure he had everything he might need for his return
trip to Oregon, he zipped up his suitcase and put it in the
hallway outside his bedroom door.  Then he returned to Scully,
who had been silent the entire time, and knelt in front of where
she was sitting on the bed.

He placed his hands on hers where they rested in her lap, noting
that they felt like ice.  Her face looked pale, too.

He reached a hand up to tuck her hair behind her ear as he spoke
gently, "I need to ask you something.  And I don't want to hear
that you're fine as an answer.  I want to you to give me an
honest answer."

He took her continued silence as acquiescence so he went on.  "Do
you think your dizzy spells might be an indicator that your
cancer is coming out of remission?"

She offered him a tired, worn smile as she reassured him, "No,
Mulder.  I don't.  I haven't had any nosebleeds, and it doesn't
feel the same as when I was sick before."

He released a pent-up sigh of relief.  "I think you should call
your doctor and have some tests run.  Just in case."

She just nodded slightly, and they just continued to watch each
other.  He had a very odd feeling that he wasn't going to see her
again for a while, so he was trying to memorize every detail of
her lovely face.

"Mulder, I have a very bad feeling about this," she finally said.

"About what?"

"About this trip.  This...case."

When she didn't continue, he waited patiently, knowing she was
trying to find words to express a feeling she didn't quite
believe in.

"I don't know how to explain it, except that I think I'm having
some kind of premonition," she finished, gesturing with her hand
in a frustrated manner.

*Did Scully just say she was having a premonition?  Damn, there's
never a tape recorder around when you need one.*

"You know Skinner's going with me, Scully," Mulder reassured her.
Then, just to see her smile, he added, "No one messes with the
Skinman and lives to tell about it."

He was rewarded with a small smirk from her.  But it was
fleeting, and she sobered quickly.

"I want to go with you," she said in a husky voice.

He closed his eyes, afraid he would capitulate at the desperate
pleading in her expression.  In all sincerity, she could probably
still go, although he thought she'd have a hard time convincing
Skinner that she should since he was now informed of the
situation.

When he opened his eyes again, he could see hurt resignation on
her face.  "We've been through this before Scully.  They're
targeting people who have been abducted, and they're not
returning them."  He paused for effect.  "And *you've* been
abducted.  I won't risk losing you."

She just turned her head slightly and stared at his bedside lamp,
her lower lip caught between her teeth as she tried not to cry.

Jesus, he felt helpless.

He watched her as she carefully removed her cross necklace, then
as she reached up to put it on him.  When she was done, she spent
a few seconds arranging it over his collar.

"I believe it's kept you safe before.  I have to hope it will
again," she explained huskily.

His fingers came up to toy with the cross.  He was unbearably
touched by her actions.

Then she placed a hand on the back of his neck and pulled him to
her so she could brush her lips across his softly.  He let her
take the lead on the kiss, and groaned when she began to nibble
on his lower lip.

There was desperation in her actions.  He recognized it because
he was feeling it too.  Something was about to happen.  Something
that might change their lives forever, and he had a terrible
feeling it wasn't going to be a change for the better.

This woman, this breathtakingly beautiful woman in his arms
completely owned him.  He knew with certainty, had known for
years, that if they ever parted, she would haunt his heart
forever.  He just wanted to drown in her, and she was kissing him
as if she might let him.  Kisses that were tainted with the salt
of a few stray tears she hadn't been able to keep at bay.

"Shhh, Scully," he entreated against her lips.  "When I come back
we'll talk.  We'll make plans."

She pulled back a few inches to look at him with a serious
expression.  "You'd better come back, Mulder," she threatened in
a watery tone.

"I will.  And I need you to take care of yourself while I'm
gone," he countered.

That earned him a soft smile.  "I will."

They continued searching each other's eyes for a few moments,
silently communicating unspoken promises and an enduring bond in
the method they had perfected years before.

"How much time do you have?" she finally asked.

He glanced at his watch.  "I have to leave to pick up Skinner in
an hour."

She placed her fingertip on the cross where it rested on his
collarbone.  Her eyes followed as she traced the chain up one
side to where it touched his neck below his ear.  She absorbed
the way it felt when he shivered slightly at her delicate touch.

When she returned her gaze to his, his eyes were heavy-lidded
from desire.  "Make love to me, Mulder," she whispered.

He searched her eyes, looking for all the world like that was the
best idea he'd heard all day.  "You deserve more than an hour,
Scully," he whispered back.

One corner of her mouth tilted.  "I'll take what I can get."

XXXXX

He certainly wasn't going to argue.

Here he was, kneeling on the floor by his bed, between her legs,
still tasting her kisses on his lips.  He'd only been intimate
with her once, weeks ago, but he could still remember the way she
felt, the way she sounded and smelled.

It suddenly wasn't as important to catch the first flight to
Oregon as it was to once again show this woman how he really felt
about her.  To lose himself in her and forget this nagging sense
of danger he felt was waiting for him in the woods outside
Bellefleur.

She had changed clothes before she came over, and was now wearing
jeans and presumably the same button-front blouse she had worn
with her suit earlier.  He began to unbutton her blouse,
memorizing every creamy white curve and plain he revealed as he
went.  When he reached the bottom, he unbuttoned the cuffs at
each wrist before slowly peeling it off her shoulders and down
her arms.

God, she was exquisite.  So pale--dainty freckles on her
shoulders and between her breasts, which were cupped lovingly in
a plain but pretty copper-colored satin bra.  He forgot about
time and UFO's and even the X-Files as he softly trailed the tip
of his index finger along the edges of the cups, traversing small
but round curves so perfect the sight of them could make a grown
man weep.

 "You're so beautiful, Scully," he breathed, his voice an octave
lower and sounding like it was filtered through gravel.

He brought his eyes back to her face to find her pupils dilated
and a healthy flush had spread across her cheeks and forehead.
He felt a rush of heat center in his groin when he noticed her
lips were parted and her breath was definitely unsteady.

*I do that to her,* he thought.  *And she let's me.  Wants me
to.*

She began to remove hi