By ML
msnsc21@aol.com

Feedback: always welcome
Distribution: Kimpa and Enigmatic Dr., always; Ephemeral,
Gossamer, or if you've archived me before, yes; if you
haven't, please just let me know and leave headers, email
addy, etc. attached. Thanks!
Spoilers: Teeny ones for Dod Kalm, Agua Mala and Dreamland II
Rating: R
Classification: Vignette
Keywords: MSR
Summary:  Scully uses a storm to her advantage.  A sequel, of
sorts, to "Too Darn Hot."

Disclaimer:  These characters aren't mine.  They mostly belong
to the actors who portrayed them, but Chris Carter created them,
and Ten Thirteen and FOX own the rights.  I mean no infringement,
and I'm not making any profit from them.

Author's note: to get in the mood, put a little Antonio Carlos
Jobim or Astrud Gilberto on the player.

Special thanks to: Shelba for fabulous beta and sallie for her
reassurances and some very welcome suggestions.  Thank you for
bailing me out!  Big hugs to you both!

=====

Rain Check
by ML

Friday Night

Mulder was pouting; Scully could tell, even over the telephone.
If she could see him, she knew his full lips would be turned down
provocatively, and he'd be giving her a sad eyed stare.

If she could see him, she'd probably have no resistance.  Over
the phone, she was made of sterner stuff.

"There's an eighty per cent chance of the hurricane making
landfall right where we planned to go, Mulder," she said.
"Eighty per cent.  That's up from an hour ago, and they're
saying it's getting more likely."

"Weather prediction is an inexact science," Mulder argued.  "You
know how often those guys are wrong."

"Do I need to remind you of what happened the last time we were
caught in a hurricane?"

Silence from the other end of the phone.  He remembered, sure
enough.

"We can do this another time, Mulder," Scully told him, trying
to sound reasonable.  "It's not like it's your fault that the
hurricane changed course."

His gusty sigh sounded a bit like a hurricane.  "How often have
we had a free weekend, Scully?  Never.  Tell me you weren't
looking forward to this, too."  Scully waited for the question,
and she wasn't disappointed.  "You did want to spend a weekend
at the beach, didn't you?  With me, I mean?"

"Mulder," Scully said reproachfully, "You know I did.  But we'll
still have a weekend together.  Why don't you come over here?
I'm sure we'll think of something to do."

He didn't even attempt to make a ribald comment and that concerned
her.

"I'm still at the office," Mulder finally admitted.  "If we can't
leave tonight, I thought I'd catch up on some paperwork.  Wanna
help?  I can bring some over."

Scully suppressed the urge to yell at him.  It felt like he was
punishing her for being cautious.  Knowing their track record,
going ahead with this trip would just be asking for trouble.
One or both of them would surely end up injured.  She swallowed
her own annoyance and disappointment and tried to reason with
Mulder.  Having an argument wouldn't suddenly make the weather
clear up.  This was what Mulder did:  he buried his disappointments
in work.

"I can think of better ways to spend a Friday night," Scully
said, using a tone she used sparingly, only on Mulder, and only
when they were alone.

There was a long silence which Scully had difficulty interpreting.
Maybe he'd dropped the phone and was on his way over.  She'd like
to think her voice had such power over him.

No such luck, however.  "I don't think I'd be very good company
tonight, Scully," Mulder muttered sulkily.  "Can I take a rain
check?"

Scully almost laughed at Mulder's choice of phrase, but he seemed
oblivious to the humor of it.  She knew he was disappointed, and
probably a little pissed off at her, but she wasn't going to give
in either on the paperwork or the trip.  She wasn't going to beg
him to come over, either.  She'd issued the invitation, and it
was up to him to decide.

She wished she could see his face; she'd have a better idea of
how bad his mood really was.  This aspect of their lives was
still too new, and the signals didn't seem the same.  She asked,
"Is there something else bothering you?"

A few months ago, she wouldn't have probed further.  She'd still
be upset, but she'd tell herself that it was just Mulder being
Mulder, and he'd get over it.  But so many things were different
now.  Openness still didn't come easily, but at least they were
trying.

"No," Mulder sighed, his voice belying the word.  "It just seems
so typical.  Sometimes I wonder if we'll ever catch a break."

"I think we did, Mulder.  We're together, and the world didn't
end.  Weather happens.  We'll have another chance at the beach."

"I know," he said.  "I just..." his voice trailed off and he said,
so quietly she could barely hear, "I was really looking forward
to making love with you on the beach."

Well.  Scully's hands got a little slippery on the handset.  She'd
forgotten for the moment that this little trip was more than a
getaway.  This was a Mulder fantasy.

She remembered the night he revealed this part of himself to her.
It had come as no surprise to her that Mulder was just as tactile
and vocal in bed as he was out of it.  She loved the stream of
words he poured into her ear when his mouth wasn't busy elsewhere.
Sometimes it sounded like nonsense -- word associations, fragments
of whatever he was thinking and feeling.  Sometimes there seemed
to be a narrative to his words, and she was drawn into his vision.
No matter what he was saying or doing, the focus was on her.

It was flattering, and a little overwhelming, the way he
concentrated on her.  She'd suspected that Mulder had imagined
making love to her long before they became lovers.  He never
actually admitted having fantasies to her.  But given Mulder's
passionate approach to the things that mattered to him, it seemed
probable that he did.  She knew she'd been the center of his world
for a long time, even if she'd chosen not to see it.

Once she did acknowledge it, she unleashed a side of Mulder she
had only glimpsed before.

The night she confirmed her suspicions about Mulder's fantasy
life, they were in the field.  It had been too hot to sleep,
almost too hot to move.  She had been lying in her room, longing
for Mulder, but still uncertain enough about their new status to
do anything about it.

It was ironic that when Mulder came to her room, it was too hot
to even touch each other.  But Mulder found a way to make it
happen.  Later, while they rocked together, sitting in front of
the fan, Scully could hear his voice in her ear, speaking so
softly that he could have been talking to himself, setting the
scene that was playing out in his head.  He spoke in cadence with
their movements:

"Cool air...and, and, ocean, ocean breeze, and, oh yeah, soft...
oh, god Scully, ah, so soft ...  sand...you and me, lying in the
shade, and, and, and, you're beautiful,  feel so, so, good...and
the sun, and the breeze...oh, Scully..."  He moaned into her neck,
and she was almost there with him, hearing the ocean, feeling the
breeze, and her climax hit her like the waves he described.

Later, she prodded him until he filled in the blanks for her.
From that moment on, it became her fantasy, too.

"Tell you what," she said briskly now, a plot hatching as she
spoke,  "I have some things to do tonight that I've been
neglecting.  How about, you come over tomorrow night, and we
can rent `Six Days, Seven Nights,' and eat Hawaiian pizza.
You bring the beer."

"That's a chick movie, Scully," Mulder said.  Scully took heart
in his willingness to at least argue the point.

"It is not.  It's got pirates, and explosions, and being stranded
on a desert isle..."

"And Harrison Ford," Mulder finished for her.  "Chick movie."

"I thought having Harrison Ford in it made it a guy movie."

"Trust me on this, Scully.  And besides, you don't like Hawaiian
pizza."

Now he was getting ridiculous.  "I'm just trying to prove a point,
Mulder.  If I'm willing to make this sacrifice for you, the least
you can do is snap out of this funk you've gotten into, and make
the best of things."  She added teasingly, "I want you to be in a
good mood tomorrow night."

"I could be in a good mood tonight if you want," Mulder offered,
already sounding more hopeful.

Scully almost relented and told him to come over, but the idea
was starting to take hold, and if he came over now,  she wouldn't
be able to do it.  "No, let's both get our chores done tonight so
we can enjoy the rest of the weekend."

"Can I come over later tonight?"  Mulder asked.

Scully had to think fast.  How to say this without hurting his
feelings?  She took a deep breath and said in a teasing tone,
"Mulder, you know very well that if you come over tonight, we'll
spend the evening watching the Weather Channel, and you'll do your
best to persuade me we should go anyway."

"Are you saying I'm too hard to resist?"  Mulder said.  "I might
not succeed, but we could have fun trying."

Mulder certainly bounced back fast, and now Scully decided to
trim his sails just a little, even at the risk of hurting his
feelings.  "What I'm saying, Mulder, is that you're a TV addict
and you're stubborn.  Finish your paperwork, and I'll see you
tomorrow."  She paused a moment, and said in her Mulder-only
voice, "I promise I'll make it worth your while."

"I can think of--"

"Good night, Mulder," Scully said briskly, and cut off his
innuendo.  She grabbed pen and paper and began to make a list
of things to do.

x-x-x-x

<Way to go, Mulder,> he thought as he put the phone down.
<You went from a weekend of making love with Scully to spending
a Friday night alone, in the space of about five minutes.>

He sighed.  He had been looking forward to this weekend.  He'd
been planning it for some time.  Ever since a particular out of
town trip a couple of months ago, he'd been dreaming of having
Scully all to himself at some beach hideaway.  With their
schedules, it hadn't been easy.  Now, on the eve of the trip,
the weather wouldn't cooperate.  He could have dealt with almost
any other drawback, almost any other kind of weather.  But they'd
been caught in a hurricane before.  He wasn't any more eager than
Scully to have it happen again.

Scully was philosophical about the whole thing, and had tried to
snap him out of it, but he'd wanted to wallow in his
disappointment.  His reward?  No Scully at all, at least
for tonight.

That's me, he thought.  Cut off my nose to spite my face.  It
was true he'd been pissed off at Scully's apparently blase
attitude about the trip.  She'd managed to push his insecurity
button dead center.

He thought she'd been looking forward to this trip as much as
he was, but now he wasn't so sure.

He'd tried to match her attitude, pretending he had more
important things to do than go to her place for the evening,
and his little ruse had failed.  Either Scully had seen through
it, or...maybe she wasn't that keen on spending that much time
with him.

Dammit, he hated feeling this way.  It was ridiculous.  He knew
Scully, he knew how she felt about him.  He'd wanted her
reassurance, but maybe he'd crossed the line into manipulation.
Had he been trying to make her beg him to come over?  He hoped
not.  All he'd wanted was for her to talk him out of his bad
mood.

He should have taken her up on her first offer, but he thought
she'd ask until he relented. He knew Scully better than that.
Scully wouldn't beg.  She'd expect him to want to spend time
with her.

That thought struck him hard.  Did she now think that he wasn't
as interested in spending time with her?  It hadn't occurred to
him until now that this could work both ways.  Scully hid her
feelings well.  If he'd hurt her by his behavior, she'd never
show it.  Now he really felt like a prick.  It seemed a fitting
punishment that he spend the evening alone with nothing but his
fantasies, as he had so often in the past.

He wondered if Scully harbored any fantasies.  He'd never asked
her.  He had so many of his own, though he'd never really told
her about them.  Most were pretty simple, anyway.  Some were
even born of the moment.  He thought again of that humid night
when he'd used an electric fan, some ice, and a water spray to
great effect.  Most of his fantasies stayed in his head, but
that night he'd been inspired.  He'd gotten carried away, and
Scully had come along for the ride.

Scully had always been the more pragmatic of the two of them.
Her offer of a theme evening tickled him.  At least she hadn't
ordered him out of her life.  He would see her tomorrow night,
and try to make up for acting like such a jerk.

<Does Scully have fantasies?> he wondered again.  <I don't
know, but it could be interesting to find out.  What's your
fantasy, Scully?  What can I do to make it come true?>

In the meantime, he'd enjoy just being with Scully.  She was
right, they were pretty lucky in many respects.  Well, he was
pretty lucky.  He'd make it his job to make Scully feel that
way too.

x-x-x-x

Saturday Morning

Scully went over her list one more time.  Music, check. Body
lotion, check.  Drink ingredients, check.  She'd planned her
errands the night before, and made a few calls as stores opened
in the morning to make sure they had what she needed.  She'd
done her shopping with military precision.  Now all she needed
to do was put it all together, and hope it didn't look too silly.

Her little idea from the night before had turned into a much
larger production that she'd originally planned.  Once she'd
gotten started, it had been hard to stop.  Before she knew it
she had a trunk full of bags.

<I think I've spent as much on this as we would have on a
weekend getaway,> she thought.  Not that it mattered.  The
planning and preparation was fun in an unexpected way.  She'd
been presented with a problem, and had found a solution.  Coupled
with that was the anticipation of Mulder's reaction when he saw
what she'd done.

She'd always admired Mulder's problem-solving abilities, and
the way he tested her mettle when they worked together.  Now in
their personal life, he did the same thing.  She wanted to show
him what she'd learned from him, how he'd changed her, what he'd
taught her.

<Crap,> Scully thought.  <I sound like one of those damned
seminars.  I'm doing this because it sounded like fun, and
because I love Mulder and I want to make him happy if I can.
I'm not trying to *show* him anything, except that.  This is
about fun, Dana Scully, and don't you forget it.>

Okay, it was about showing Mulder that she had some imagination,
too.  She might as well admit it, at least to herself.  Her
competitive nature was part of who she was; there was no denying
it.

Having admitted this to herself, Dana Scully rolled up her
sleeves and got to work whipping her living room into tropical
paradise shape.

x-x-x-x

Saturday evening

A few minutes before six, Mulder stood at Scully's door.  An hour
before, she'd called and asked him to stop and get some of the
Thai shrimp they both liked, and some spring rolls.

"Changed your mind about Hawaiian pizza, Scully?" he'd teased.

"I didn't say that," Scully said.  "And knock when you get here,
okay?"

"Sure."  He didn't ask why.  They'd both gotten in the habit of
just letting themselves in to each other's places, but he shrugged
it off.  Maybe she was a little pissed off at him and she was
just warning him.

He already felt bad enough about the night before.  He'd stayed
late at the office, though the time wasn't as productive as he'd
made it sound.  There were a few more pencils in the ceiling than
there had been.

He'd driven past Scully's building but her lights weren't on, so
he'd thought better of a surprise visit at 2 o'clock in the
morning.

He woke up at seven, his face mashed into the rough throw pillow
on his couch and the TV playing some inane cartoon show.  The
weather matched his mood:  drizzly and gray.  He went for a run,
did a little laundry, surfed around the sports shows, and checked
his watch about twenty thousand times.  He'd been relieved when
she called, even though she sounded sort of distracted.

Stop worrying, he chided himself as he knocked again, shifting
the hot food and cold beer in his arms.  You promised Scully you'd
be in a good mood.

x-x-x-x

On the other side of the door, Scully took a deep breath.  <I
hope this turns out well.  I've never done anything like this.
What if he doesn't like it?  Was this a lame idea?  Dammit, stop
worrying and open the damn door.>

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Rain Check 2 of 2
by ML

disclaimers, etc., in Part One...

x-x-x-x
Scully opened the door and Mulder smiled at the sight before him.
She was wearing her fluffy bathrobe, and she'd let her hair dry
naturally so it was soft and curly in the humid air.  He'd have
taken her in his arms if they weren't already full of food and
beer.

She stood aside to let him in.  The apartment was in almost total
darkness except for the light from the bathroom down the hall.
It felt like she'd turned the heat way up, and there was a scent
in the air he didn't usually associate with her apartment.  It
was a nice enough scent, but it didn't smell the same.

Before he could make any comments Scully took the bags from his
hands and gave him a quick kiss on the lips.  "I put something
for you to wear in the bathroom," she said.  "Go and change while
I take care of the food."

"Ooh, Scully, excuse me while I slip into something more
comfortable," he leered, and he heard her giggle as he did as
he was told.  <Something's afoot,> he thought.  <Don't know
what, but I don't think it's anything bad.  It's just a little
strange.>

It got even stranger when he saw what Scully left for him to put
on.  Hanging on the back of the door was a pair of swim trunks
and a very loud Hawaiian shirt.

Mulder was beginning to get the picture.  He couldn't wait to
see what came next.

Dressed like a beachcomber, his new shirt hanging open and his
trunks riding low on his hips, Mulder went back down the hall
toward the living room.  He could swear he heard the sound of
waves coming from somewhere nearby.

The blinds were drawn against the dreary twilight.  There were
lights on now, but not the usual soft lamplight.  Instead, a
string of paper lanterns festooned the wall.  The sofa, table,
and chairs had all been pushed back to clear a spot on the floor,
which was now covered by a large air mattress and several beach
towels.  The tableau was completed by a large beach umbrella with
some kind of high-intensity lamp behind it.

This charming sight was only missing one thing.  "Scully?"
Mulder called.  "Where are you?"

"Right behind you, Mulder."  He turned to see Scully standing
in the kitchen doorway, a tray in her hands.  He resisted the
urge to take the tray away from her just so he could get a better
view.

Gone was the enveloping robe, revealing Scully's creamy skin
covered by nothing more than a bikini top and some sort of
sarong, knotted low on her hips and wrapped in such a way that
it revealed a lot of leg as she walked.  She smiled at him as
she sashayed past, hips swaying to the soft bossa nova beat in
the background.  He admired the back view as she bent to set the
tray on the coffee table.  She turned to him again, two drinks
garnished with some kind of frilly pick and pieces of fruit in
her hands.

She handed him one.  "I hope you like this, Mulder," she said,
smiling as she took her straw into her mouth and sucked gently.

Mesmerized, Mulder felt the pull on his own body as he watched
Scully's lips wrap around the straw.  His eyes never left hers
as he lipped his straw and took a sip.  It was delicious, a
potent concoction of fruit juices and alcohol that went straight
to his head, already intoxicated by the sight and scent of
Scully.

"I like it," he said, licking his lips and running his eyes over
her body, letting her know that it wasn't only the drink he
 meant.  "What is it?"

Scully's lips quirked as she answered.  "Sex on the Beach, Mulder.
Isn't that what you said you wanted?"

"Actually, I believe I said I wanted to make love to you on the
beach," he said. "How `bout a Long, Slow, Comfortable Screw?  Is
that on the menu?"

She looked at him from under her lashes.  Was she blushing?  He
loved it.  "Anything you want, Mulder," she said.

Oh, boy. He took their drinks and set them on the table.  "Get
over here, Scully," he growled.

She came to him willingly, and he wrapped his arms around her,
his hands low against her back.  Her skin was warm, and smooth,
and smelled of ginger and vanilla.  That was what was different.
He buried his face in her hair, and nudged and nuzzled his way
to her mouth, also warm and welcoming to him.

He felt her little tongue slide over his lower lip, and his own
came out to meet her, raising the temperature in the already
tropical room.  Scully reached up and skimmed his shirt off his
shoulders, rubbing her hands down his bare back.  He slid his
hands around to find the knot on her sarong, but she pushed him
away gently.

"We can't be in the sun without sunscreen," she murmured, turning
to dig around in a big straw bag, giving Mulder another entrancing
view.  She pulled out a tube of something.  "Lie down, Mulder,
I'll do you first, then you can do me."

Mulder grinned.  "Oh, please do me, Miz Scully," and he watched
her blush grow a little.  He loved to make her blush.

He lay down on his back, spread-eagle on the mattress, mainly to
see if he could make Scully blush again at his already obvious
arousal.  She knelt beside him and put her hand out to him.  He
watched her from under his lashes, waiting for her touch, tense
with anticipation.

Scully pushed on his hip.  "Roll over," she said firmly, and he
groaned softly in disappointment.  "You asked for this, Mulder,
so you're getting the full treatment."

"Really?" he said, turning his head and giving Scully his best
pouty look.  "Everything?"

Scully merely smiled and poured a generous amount of lotion into
her palms, rubbing them together.  She placed her hands on his
bare shoulders and began to rub in circles over his skin, her
hands slick against him.

Mulder groaned again, but it was a groan of satisfaction.  The
scent of the lotion was light and pleasing, not like the strong
smelling coconut oils and Coppertone he remembered from childhood.
Those scents had an entirely different association than this one.
No one, in boyhood or adulthood, had ever touched him the way
Scully did, physically or emotionally.  He knew that now and
always, he'd equate this new scent with Dana Scully, and her
warmth and love.  He kept his eyes closed and drifted away,
aware only of Scully's hands on him, soothing, rubbing, loving
him.

x-x-x-x

So far, so good, Scully thought as she smoothed her hands over
Mulder's back.  Her little gift to Mulder turned out to have some
nice side benefits for her.  She loved touching Mulder, but seldom
had the opportunity to do it as much as she'd like.  She'd allowed
herself brief touches as partner and friend for years.  More
recently,  she'd also caressed him as a lover, but really only
during love-making, when other sensations clamored for her
attention.  Now she realized that all along she'd been craving
this, even before they were lovers.  She'd know now to take the
time to do this, for herself as much as for Mulder.

She loved the feel of his muscles shifting and rippling under her
hands, loved the surprising softness of his skin.  He was so warm,
so alive.  She liked the sounds he made as she touched him, first
softly, then pressing into his skin, kneading away any tension.
She let her hands drift from his shoulders down his arms, then to
his lower back, listening to his breathing and the occasional low
"hmmmm" from deep within him.  She could feel the vibration of
his voice in her hands and it set up a quiver in other parts of
her body as well.

With a gentle touch, Scully rolled him onto his back once more.
What a beautiful sight to behold:  Mulder lying loose-limbed
before her, his eyes shut and his lips parted slightly.  His
breathing was soft and unhurried, and she'd never have guessed
he was even aware of her presence, except for the one part of
his body that wasn't relaxed at all.  She was tempted to pull
down his trunks, but she settled for straddling his waist as
she began to smooth lotion over his chest.

She could never get enough of his silky skin, the contrast of
crisp hair scattered lightly across his chest, and the feel of
his heart beating.  She noted with a thrill the subtle change
in his nipples as she ran her fingers over them.  He lay still,
eyes shut, letting her explore to her heart's content, the
changes in his breathing the only indication he was aware of
what she was doing to him.  She delighted in every touch, and
knowing that he welcomed it.

x-x-x-x

Mulder wasn't sure whether he was going mad or going to heaven.
Scully's touch on his skin was at once teasing and soothing.
While she worked over his back, he felt himself relax almost to
the point of dozing.  When she turned him over, however, all
sleepy thoughts fled.  She straddled his waist, reaching her
hands up to his shoulders and then drawing them down across his
chest.  She sat lightly, barely putting her small weight on him,
but he felt not just the warmth of her body, but the heat of her
desire.  It had already kindled his own.  It was all he could do
to lie still and let her touch him.  He opened his eyes to slits
so he could see what she was up to.

Scully leaned forward, balancing on her knees.  She slid her hands
up his arms, stroked his shoulders, and rested them on the towel
on either side of his head.  Her fingers burrowed in his hair as
she draped herself over his chest.  She tilted her head to kiss
his chin.  Mulder raised his head up just enough so his lips
could brush hers.  She scooted up a little more, and the
sensation of her body sliding against his made him inhale
sharply.  He brought his hands up to her waist, holding her
in place as he caught at her lips with his own.  His hands slid
up her body, palms circling gently over her sides.  He sought
not to tease but to savor, splaying his fingers over her back
until he reached the band of her bikini top.  He deftly unhooked
it and smoothed his hands up and down her back.  She gave a
little wriggle of pleasure and pressed closer to him, more deeply
into their kiss.

He wanted to be skin to skin with her but didn't want to break
the kiss.  Either Scully read his mind or she felt the same way,
for she arched her back just enough to pull the scrap of material
away, then pressed against him, breast to chest, never breaking
contact with his mouth.

After a long period of delirious mutual adoration, Scully lay her
head against Mulder's chest, breathing in tandem with him.   He
liked the feel of it.  He felt relaxed and content, the warmth
of the lamp above them soaking into him, the breeze from the fan
tickling the fine hairs on his arms.

If he closed his eyes, he could almost believe he was on the
beach.  Scully had done this for him.  She went to a lot of
trouble, just for him.  The best he'd come up with was a fan
and some water spray, and she'd created Fantasy Island, right
in her living room.  If he hadn't already been in love with her,
this evidence of how much she thought about him would have done
the trick.  His practical, realist Scully had a much bigger
romantic streak than he'd ever have imagined.

He'd find a way to reciprocate, no matter how long it took.  In
the meantime, he had a thing or two to show her.

"Do I get a turn?"  He asked softly, kissing the top of her head.

Scully nodded mutely against his chest, her hair tickling his lips
and chin.  He didn't move right away, wanting to savor this rare
quiet moment.  He let the atmosphere she'd created for them wash
over him.  He held her against him, letting his hands smooth over
her, controlling his own desires so he could concentrate on her.

x-x-x-x

Scully would have been content to lie in Mulder's arms, drifting
away to the ocean sounds and his soft breathing, but it seemed
that Mulder had other plans.

He sat up, shifting her so that she sat across his lap.  He
cupped her face in his hands and kissed her deeply but with
gentle intent.  His exploration of her mouth was unhurried.
His hands returned to their slow caress of her body, and Scully
relaxed against him.  Little by little he lowered her to the
mattress.  She raised her arms above her head and stretched
like a cat.  She heard his intake of breath and she opened her
eyes to see Mulder staring at her in a daze.  "You look like a
painting," he said.  "You look like a Gauguin."  She felt a blush
rise to her hairline.  No one had ever said anything remotely like
that to her before.

Scully closed her eyes and she startled, just a little, as he
placed his hands on her and began to smooth the lotion over her
arms.  He took his time, massaging the lotion into her arms and
down to her hands, calming her.  When she felt his warm, slippery
hands on her breasts, Scully's eyes flew open.  He still knelt
beside her, a wicked grin on his face.  "Did I wake you?"  he
asked.

She nodded, biting her lip, and saw his smile grow broader.
"Good, that was my intention," he said.  "This game is so much
more fun with two players."  He smoothed his hands over her again
and again, sliding over her breasts and stomach, wide circles
that soothed and enflamed simultaneously.  His hands circled lower
and lower, then stopped.  She felt him fumbling with the knot of
her wrap skirt, and heard his hiss of frustration.  She put her
hand over his.  "Let me, Mulder."  She sat up, then stood up,
and turned her back to him, untying the knot and letting the
gauzy fabric drop at her feet.  Now all she had on was a very
skimpy pair of bikini bottoms.

Mulder gave a low, appreciative whistle.  He still knelt on the
blankets as she turned back toward him, and he reached for her,
placing a kiss on her navel as he slowly pulled the last scrap
of fabric down her legs.  He nuzzled and licked his way down one
leg and then up the other, holding her hips steady with his hands.

As he dropped a kiss right at the apex of her thighs, Scully felt
her knees go weak.  I've never felt that before, she thought in a
daze. It's not just a figure of speech.  She clutched at his
shoulders for balance.

Mulder guided her to lie down beside him.  "More beautiful than
a painting," he murmured into her ear, turning her so that they
lay back to front.  She could feel the heat of him though he still
wore his swim trunks.  She bumped her bottom against him just to
hear him hiss.

"I can't believe you still have clothes on, Mulder," she said.
"Fair is fair.  Are you going to take those off?"

"You want me to?" he teased.  "I thought you'd never ask."  She
could hear the rustling behind her as he did as she asked, then
felt the rigid heat of his erection brush against her.  "Better?"
he asked.

"Uhmmmm," she said, rocking her hips back against him once more.
"Need a little more sunscreen?"  She could sense Mulder's amusement
at her teasing, but coherent thought would soon be beyond her.
She often matched him quip for quip, but not now.  He seemed to
be in better control of his faculties than she was at the moment.

"Hey, if you want to apply it, I'm game," and she was pleased to
hear his voice sounding a little ragged, "but I can think of a
better sunscreen than lotion."  He pressed his hips against her.

Scully couldn't stand it any longer; without another word, she
rolled over and reached for him.  Mulder didn't say anything
further either, except for a low growl of lust.  They turned
toward each other, lips meeting, hands reaching.

x-x-x-x

Mulder pulled Scully closer.  Their hands and bodies were already
slick from lotion, and becoming even more slick with sweat and
arousal.  She wrapped her arms around him as he rose above her,
and welcomed him inside.

Outside, the wind blew and rain fell.  Indoors, none of that
mattered.  Scully filled all of Mulder's senses.  The world
had re-formed itself to contain only the two of them.  The
recorded ocean sounds and the pretend sun of the lamp receded
in the face of shared breaths and heated skin.  They were
everywhere, and nowhere, and the only thing that mattered was
that they were together.

Some time later, Mulder became aware of the rain spattering against
the window.  It didn't seem real; what was real was what they had
here, lying in each other's arms on Scully's floor.

He kissed Scully to get her attention, and she opened her eyes.
"Scully, you sure know how to show a guy a good time."

"Better than a trip to the seashore?"

He made a show of thinking about it.  "Before I answer that, I
have to ask you:  would you have gotten this naked on the beach?"

"Probably not."

"Well, I think that answers my question," he said.  "Not to
mention, no bullies kicking sand in my face and taking my
girl..."

"I bet you could kick the ass of anyone on the beach, Mulder,"
Scully assured him.  "Besides, why would I leave you for the
bully?  What do you take me for?"

"Sorry, Scully, I wasn't thinking," Mulder said.  "Kiss and make
up?"

She gave a fair imitation of his pout, and it made him  laugh.
"Well, maybe this time," she said.

He fell on her and tickled her, capturing her mouth with his as
she opened it to laugh.  They wrestled to a draw on their make-
believe beach.

x-x-x-x

Sunday morning

Scully woke up to the sound of rain and the sight of Mulder, his
head propped on his hand as he watched her.  She stretched
luxuriously and smiled as she remembered the night before.

They'd played on the "beach" for most of the evening, feeding
each other shrimp rolls and having a little more Sex on the
Beach -- both the alcoholic and the frolic kind.  Then, after
a shower, the cool sheets of Scully's bed seemed more appealing
than the rumpled towels and deflating air mattress.

"Sleep well?"  Mulder asked, brushing her hair out of her eyes.

"Mmm-hmm," she said, rolling toward him to kiss him.  He put his
arm around her and rolled them back and forth, making Scully
giggle.  "What are you doing?"

"Just thought a little wave action might turn you on," he said.
He lay on his back and pulled her with him until she was resting
half on his chest.

"Makes me kinda wish I'd kept the waterbed," he said lazily,
writing secrets on her skin.

"Wouldn't it make you seasick?"  Scully asked.

"Why would you think that?"

"Well, I remember that trip to the USS Arden.  You were miserable
the whole time."

"That wasn't seasickness, Scully.  It was the flu or something.
Have you ever seen me seasick since then?  Would I go investigate
a ship in the Bermuda Triangle if I suffered that much?"  He
kissed her forehead.  "Anyway, I'd be willing to risk it."

"All in the name of science, I suppose," Scully said.

"Well, something like that, anyway," Mulder said.  He nuzzled
against her forehead and kissed his way to her mouth, taking his
time.  "Can I ask you something?" he asked between kisses.

"Um hm," Scully said, unable to answer more clearly with Mulder's
mouth on her.

"What's your fantasy, Scully?"

She pulled back a little and looked up at Mulder.  She looked a
little wary.  "You know me, I'm not the fantasy type."

"I don't believe that.  Even as a little girl, you never
daydreamed about what you wanted, imagined an outcome?"

"I've been known to visualize an outcome, Mulder," she said.
"But that's not the same as having fantasies."

"Potato, potahto, Scully," replied Mulder.

"I was never long on imagination.  I'm just not like that."

He smiled.  "After what you set up last night, I beg to differ.
I think you have a great imagination, you just haven't let it out
to play for a long time."

Scully kept shaking her head, unable to admit to it.  "I don't
think what I did was very original, Mulder.  I just took something
you said, and expanded on it."

"Isn't that what imagination is?  Taking an idea and making
something of your own out of it?  Carrying something beyond
its original boundaries?  Isn't that what a scientist does?"

"I'd never call science an imaginative discipline, Mulder.
Scientists deal in facts, and in recreating the results that
they or someone else got, to prove or disprove them, to make
them real or not.  You can't imagine an outcome that's not
supported by the facts."

"Are you saying, Agent Scully," asked Mulder, eyebrows raised,
"that creating a beach in your living room was an experiment?
That you had an expected outcome?"

"Well, I had a pretty good idea of the outcome," she said, doing
a little of her own invisible writing across Mulder's chest and
down his stomach.

"Are you saying I'm easy, Agent Scully?" he asked, the last
words coming out a little strangled sounding as Scully's fingers
found what they were looking for.

"On the contrary, Agent Mulder," she said sweetly.  "I don't
think that at all."  She gave him a little squeeze.

Mulder groaned at the innuendo and the sensation of Scully's
fingers on his hot hard flesh.

"Scu-scully," he managed to say, "not fair.  Don't cha-hange
the subject."

He did feel some regret, however, when Scully stopped what she
was doing and propped her elbows on his chest to look at him.
"Why is it so important that I have a fantasy, Mulder?"

"Maybe I'd like to reciprocate, Scully.  I figure there's
something you think about that really turns you on."

"Yes, but it's no fantasy," Scully said.  "He's right in front
of me, this minute."

Mulder gaped at her like a fish for a moment.  Then he came to
his senses and pulled her against him, showing her without words
how she made him feel.

A long, breathless time later, Mulder whispered, "You're better
than any fantasy, too," as he pressed kisses along Scully's
hairline.  He felt her lips against his chest, and smiled.

They lay in mutual contentment for a while until someone's
stomach growled.  Scully giggled in embarrassment, burying her
head against Mulder's shoulder.  He could get used to hearing
her giggle, he thought.  He stroked her hair until she looked
up at him.

He took her face in his hands and said, very seriously, "By the
way, Scully, where's the pizza?  I seem to remember you promised
me pizza."

Scully made a face.  "Surely not for breakfast, Mulder."

"Why not?  It's got Canadian bacon, and pineapple, and bread...
all breakfast foods."

"I'm not even going to dignify that with a reply, Mulder.  Next
thing you'll be telling me you eat chocolate cake for breakfast."
Scully got out of bed and headed for the kitchen.

He looked at her in disbelief.  "Something wrong with that?"

"Mul-der..." she shook her head at him.  "What am I going to do
with you?"

He grinned at her, putting his hands behind his head and settling
into the pillows.  "Well, if you don't have any ideas, I have
a few..."

end.

=====

So close your eyes, for that's a lovely way to be
Aware of things your heart alone was meant to see
The fundamental loneliness goes whenever two can dream a
dream together

You can't deny, don't try to fight the rising sea
Don't fight the moon, the stars above and don't fight me
The fundamental loneliness goes whenever two can dream a
dream together

-Wave, by Antonio Carlos Jobim

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