By: afg
siggy.63@btinternet.com
 

www.ofnoconsequence.com
Rating: NC17
Category: Smut, Humor, Angst
Spoilers: Three Of A Kind
Disclaimer: Not mine and no money is being made.
Thanks: To Tali, for the judicious use of the cudgel and to
Angie, for the entertainment.
Feedback: Yes please. siggy.63@btinternet.com
Summary: Frohike gets lucky. Scully gets worry lines.
Notes: Written for Fando's Season Six Smut Challenge.

Las Vegas,
Nevada

Melvin Frohike, pint sized road warrior of the technological super
highway, was, at this very moment, having one of the most
exciting sexual encounters of his life. There was just one small
problem. He was having it with a seriously hammered Special
Agent named Dana Scully.  Despite his non-conformist good
looks, Frohike had never been lacking in female companionship.
Admittedly, many of the ladies he'd consorted with of late went by
the name of Lulu or Trixie and they'd required remuneration for
services rendered. However, he still felt he could hold his own in
female company. Right now though, he most definitely was not
holding his own, Scully was.

After dragging her away from the swarm of leering men at the bar,
the walk to the lifts had gone almost without incident. She did try
to molest a bellboy, who made a hasty retreat, as Frohike managed
to interpose himself between the startled youth and his rapacious
companion. She had trailed behind him with a girlish pout until she
spied a security guard and Frohike, was only just able to shove her
into a lift before she instigated an incident, which might have been
frowned on by The Powers That Be at the FBI. Unfortunately, he
discovered his mistake too late. With nothing to distract her, Scully
turned her attention to the only male available, him.

"'hike, I'm sooo hot," she whined most un-Scully like, sidling
towards him and undoing yet another button on her already gaping
blouse.

"Yeah, well we'll be out of here in a second," he said nervously.

Scully pressed up against him and put her hands on his chest.

"No, I mean I'm hot," she clarified. Giggling, she tried to kiss him.

"Scully stop it," he said trying to push her off. "Come on, Scully,
what the hell are you doing?"

In his, admittedly, rather feeble attempts to untangle himself from
her, he somehow managed to get his leg trapped between hers and
he watched in fascinated horror as her skirt rode up and she began
to ride his thigh while at the same time insinuating her hands under
his leather jacket.

"'hike, baby, you know you want me," she purred as her lips
traveled over his red face.

Frohike was beginning to feel like a fillet steak in a lion's cage, as
she began to rub herself provocatively against his chest and nip at
his neck. This wasn't fair. He'd loved Dana Scully from afar for
years and now that she had him cornered and was practically
devouring him he had to discover that he had scruples.

"For Gods sake, Agent Scully, get a grip. What would Agent
Mulder say?" He'd begun to sound like Miss McCafferty his old,
in more ways than one, History teacher; one look from her steely
grey eyes could shrivel a libidinous schoolboy's scrotum faster
than a bucket of ice water.

"Mulder's not here though is he, and you're so cute." Her busy
hand started to move south.

Frohike let out a girlish yelp as her hand grasped his dick and
began to squeeze slowly.

"Right, that's quite enough of that," he was going for a deep
authoritative tone but he ended up sounding like Julie Andrews in
the 'Sound Of Music' as he finally made a more concerted effort to
get away, slapping madly at her wandering hands and shoving at
her shoulders.

He was literally saved by the bell, as, with a jaunty 'ding', the lift
doors opened to the disapproving glare of several members of the
Des Moines Women's Choral Society. The women watched, stony
faced as the flushed couple in the elevator adjusted their clothing
and shuffled out with Scully giggling like a loon and Frohike
muttering "So sorry ladies." as he dragged his almost paramour
behind him.
 
Frohike had never been so relieved to get Scully back in the hotel
room and among reinforcements. He realized he'd missed a golden
opportunity for some serious Scully action but was strangely proud
of himself for not having taken advantage of her in such an
impaired state. Especially when he'd discovered what had caused
the impairment. Thankfully, she would remember absolutely
nothing of the encounter and he would never breathe a word. It
would just be a fond, yet strangely terrifying, memory that he
would carry with him for the rest of his days.
 

Three weeks later,
The Shady Pines Inn,
Washington State.
 

Scully was to her surprise having fond thoughts of the Lone
Gunmen. They'd made a rather lovely conciliatory gesture by
booking her and her partner into this very pleasant country inn for
a romantic weekend away. She, of course, realized that they'd
only done it to forestall a serious ass kicking by her good self, but,
none the less it had been a nice thing to do.

Speaking of nice things. Mulder was currently doing very nice
things to her as she lay in the big and luxuriously comfortable four-
poster bed. His tongue was circling her puckered and aching
nipples as her fingers ran through his soft chestnut hair.

"Mmm, Scully, I could get used to this." He murmured against her
skin, as he started to make his way down her body kissing and
nipping her flesh as he went.

"You're just getting soft in your old age, that's all. God, that feels
so good." She started to writhe as Mulder's tongue made a pit stop
at her navel. She loved it when he did that.

"I really don't think soft is the word." He said, as he suddenly
pulled himself up and covered her with his body.

"Oh yeah, maybe you're right."

"They kissed languorously, their tongues dancing with each other,
as their hips set the tempo. Scully had a sudden urge to be in the
driving seat; grinning, she deftly flipped them and with a happy
sigh, slid slowly down his length.

"Smooth move, Agent Scully."

"I've got a million of 'em, Agent Mulder."

"Guess what? So do I," he slipped his fingers down to where they
were joined and lightly strummed her clit, smiling as her back
arched in pleasure.

"Ah yes, I like that one, but can you do this?" She tightened her
internal muscles on his cock on every down stroke.

"God, no, I can't do that," Mulder groaned, "but this might be
interesting," he suddenly pinched one of her nipples and
simultaneously thrust up, hard.

Scully threw back her head and groaned as she rode out the sudden
and exceedingly sweet orgasm. She managed to keep up her
rhythm as she felt Mulder bucking frantically as he hurtled towards
his own release. Exhausted, she collapsed over him and they lay
together panting.

"We're really getting the hang of this sex thing now, don't you
think, Scully?" Mulder said breathlessly.

"We're not bad, but we shouldn't become complacent. I hate to
resort to cliches, however, practice does make perfect."

"Can we practice after a nap, Scully? I think you've worn me out."
 
"Okay, sleep sounds good. I just hope I don't have that damn
stupid dream again," she said, frowning.
 
"What? The one were you're in the middle of the FBI building in
the nude?"

"No, the other one."

"Oh, the one were you're attempting to molest Frohike?" Mulder
started to chuckle.

"Yeah, but it feels so real though, it's weird."

"I wouldn't worry Scully," Mulder said, yawning. "I reckon it's a
form of psychic transference. You're picking up Frohike's dreams.
It's a documented phenomena."
 
"Mulder, that's ridiculous."

"Well, it's more believable than you getting the horn for Frohike."

"That's very true. Just this once, I might have to agree with you."

"Quick, get me a camera, I want to capture the moment."

"Oh, go to sleep, Mulder."

"Sweet dreams of sugarplum Frohikes, Scully."

"I'm getting my gun."

"G'night, Scully."
 

The end.