By Donna
donnah@donnas-stories.com

URL - http://www.donnas-stories.com/
Rating - NC-17
Category - MSR
Spoilers - None
Keywords - MSR
Summary - What happens when the equipment
malfunctions?
Feedback - Please
Archive - Anywhere, just let me know so I can visit

Disclaimer - Mulder, Scully, the Lone Gunmen and Skinner
all belong to Chris, 10-13, and Fox - Bless them for it!!  No
infringement intended
 

In Heat
 

As soon as he'd walked in the door he'd known there was
trouble.  He'd shed his suit coat and rolled up his shirt
sleeves.  In minutes he'd unbuttoned the top two buttons on
his shirt and loosened his tie.  That was about as far as he
could go.
 
But the real problem was that Scully was hot.  Not hot in the
conventional way where he wanted to throw her down on the
desk and grind himself into her for an hour or two - though
that thought had come to him altogether too often lately - no,
she was hot as in the thermostat seemed to be stuck on
Hades.

If heat really did rise, the people on the upper floors had
probably already incinerated.

Scully's face had a light sheen of perspiration, her suit coat
was hanging on the back of the door and her blouse was
already unbuttoned to a dangerous degree.

Just as he started to speak, she rose from her chair and
pulled her blouse from the waistband of her skirt and flapped
it lightly, showing Scully abs.

He wanted to sink his teeth, or some part of his body
anyway, into that flesh.  She had to know what she was
doing to him.  His reputation as eunuch was well deserved,
but this was just plain mean.

"Mulder?"  She turned to him, holding the blouse up.  She
touched her diet cola can to her skin.  He was just imagining
the sound of sizzling, right?

She moved over and perched on the edge of his desk.
She'd have no trouble shooting him this time.  He couldn't
escape.  No way could he walk out of the office now.  In fact,
he was wishing for a bigger desk, to help hide his problem.

"You look hot, Mulder."

"I'm roasting over here."  He mumbled.

"I don't mean that, Mulder."  She leaned a little closer.  "You
look 'hot' with your tie down like that, and your arms all . . .
exposed."

"Scully?"  Had the heat gotten to her?  She didn't talk like
that, at least not to him.  Except of course in his fantasies.

She leaned forward and let her hair fall over her head,
exposing her neck to cool it off.

No, he had not just thrust toward her from here in the chair.
She'd bring him up on charges, but he was the one feeling
harassed here.

She sat up then, tossing her hair back.  He hadn't noticed
how long it had become and . . . good god, she arched her
back, exposing even more of her breasts.

"It's so hot in here, Mulder."  She complained in a breathless
voice.

"Yeah, it is."  Testosterone overload, he was ready to sing
bass.

"We should do something about it, Mulder."

She was watching him, probably gauging him for a straight
jacket.  "Uh, what?"

"We could get rid of these restricting clothes."  She looked at
him innocently.  Right, like a mongoose after a snake.

"Uh, you think that's wise?"

"We could lock the door."

His eyes popped and he shifted in the chair, trying to get
more comfortable without actually physically adjusting
himself.  At this point his own hand would probably end the
whole thing.

"I . . . I'm not sure I understand."

"Sure you do."  She rose then and moved toward the door.
He glanced down to see the strappy little sandals she was
wearing, and no hose.  Shit, Scully, just kill me now.  He
heard the deadbolt slip into place and drew a ragged breath.
Now what?

She turned toward him and as he watched open mouthed,
unbuttoned the rest of her blouse.  Dear god, had he
drooled?

She smiled as she slipped the silk down her arms.  She was
wearing a demi-bra, mostly lace and he could see the rose
of her nipples through the sheer fabric.

Before he could recover from that, he saw her hand go to the
waistband of her skirt.  She lowered the zipper slowly and let
the black skirt fall to the floor, exposing her . . . thong?

How many beats could the heart skip before it refused to
restart?  He was pretty sure he'd missed four in a row here.

"Come on, Mulder.  I know you're too warm too."

Too warm?  The hell he probably deserved for his current
thoughts was only tepid in comparison.

She held out her hands and tugged him to his feet.  She
glanced down and a small smile graced her lips.  He thought
she nodded, but couldn't ask.

Scully pulled the tie free and tossed it over her computer
monitor, then was unbuttoning the rest of his shirt.  The
friction when she pulled it from his slacks caused a low
moan.  She didn't acknowledge it, pushing the fabric from his
shoulders and down his arms.

He made no protest, just watching her.  How far would she
take this?  Her fingers at his belt buckle seemed to be
answering that.  She slipped the belt from the loops and let it
lie, like a snake, beside his desk.

She made short work of the button, then was carefully
lowering the zipper on his slacks.  Careful being the
operative word - no bomb squad agent had needed such
caution.

She parted his slacks and glanced up.  Her look was feral.
He felt his body shudder at the intensity.  Her small hand
touched his chest.  Then he realized he had allowed her
control long enough.

His hands took hold of her waist and lifted her, seating her
on his desk.  Her gasp of surprise was replaced by a look
that smoldered.

She eased herself to the edge of the desk, and leaning back
slightly, opened herself to him.

He stepped closer, wanting to touch all of her, but he needed
to rid her of all those pesky remaining clothes.  There was no
fumbling as he unhooked her bra and one hand cupped her
full breast as the other trailed down to the elastic of that
thong - which was forever etched in his mind.

She lifted herself slightly, allowing him to remove it, then her
arms went around his neck and her lips were pressed to his
jaw, moving toward his ear.

He growled then, and captured her lips with his own.  He'd
only thought it was hot before.  Now he was ready to
spontaneously combust.

He wanted to be in her, needed to be in her.  His fingers
found her core and the wetness there stopped him for a
moment, "For me?"

"Always for you."  She murmured.

She reached for him -

"Mulder?  Mulder!"

He felt a cool wet hand on his face.

"Sc-Scully?"

"Are you alright?  I thought . . ."

His eyes widened in horror.  God, he'd never let it go that far
before, especially with her right there.  He glanced down;
could you get whiplash from losing an erection that quickly?
At least he hadn't ruined his pants.  That humiliation would
have been more than he could bear.

"Mulder, it's too hot.  Let's get out of here."

"Uh, yeah.  You should go on home.  I'll cut out in a little
while."

"No, let's go somewhere together, Mulder."

"I don't think . . ."

"We could - "

"Scully.  Please - " He needed to be alone, to assess his
chances of surviving this debacle intact.

"You didn't ask me what I had in mind, or how I'm feeling."

"Feeling?"

Her nose brushed his ear; she was that close to him.
"Flattered."  She whispered.

He drew back as though burnt; searching Scully's eyes for
any hint of amusement or sarcasm.  Phoebe would have
skewered him and made sure everyone she knew heard
about it.  She . . . Scully looked sincere.

Did she know she had a knife at his heart?  One cut and
he'd be destroyed.  Instead she linked her fingers with his
and tugged him to his feet.  "There is one thing, Mulder."

She saw the fear flick across his face, but he didn't pull
away.

"Someday, will you tell me what the fantasy was?"

He actually growled, and she smiled.  It wasn't a mocking
smile, hell, she looked like she'd won the lottery.  Didn't she
realize he was the one who had won?