By Julie Cantrell
xfsista@hotmail.com
 

Rating:        R for innuendo galore
Category:      V / H / A
Spoilers:      Very brief "Chinga" reference.
Keywords:      Mulder/Scully UST
Summary:       Mulder's suspicions are aroused when Scully
               arrives late for work.
Feedback:      Experts agree that xfsista@hotmail.com accepts
               feedback 100% of the time!  ;)
Archive:       DO NOT ARCHIVE at Gossamer (I've already done
               that).  Spooky Awards my link directly at
               http://fbimagination.faithweb.com/saddleup.txt
        All others, please ask first.
Disclaimers:   All of the following characters belong to
               Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, and Twentieth
               Century Fox Television.  No infringement is
               intended.

A huge debt of gratitude to the talented Jacquie LaVa
for her encouragement and help.

All of my stories can be found @ the FBI (aka The Federal
Bureau of Imagination) http://fbimagination.faithweb.com/
along with my growing collection of XF collages.
 

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Saddle Up
by Julie Cantrell

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Scully got laid.

Maybe it was her tousled hair or flushed face that
gave it away.  Perhaps it was her rumpled shirt and
that suspicious gleam in her eye like I've never seen.

Maybe it was the fact that she was over an hour late.

She rushed in here out of breath with a thin layer
of sweat covering her face and neck.

She looked like a woman satisfied.

I tried to convince myself that it was nothing.
Scully hadn't mentioned that she was dating someone.
She surely wouldn't have a one night stand, would
she?

Would she?

It's nothing, Mulder.  Your partner just overslept
and didn't have time to perfect her normally sleek
look.

But, Scully *never* oversleeps and she *always*
looks perfectly coifed.

Maybe she was tired, you stupid ass.  Did you ever
think of that?

But, *why* was she so tired?

Okay, now I'm back where I started at.  I have to
face it.  Scully might as well have the words
*freshly fucked* tattooed on her forehead.

Jesus!  Listen to me.  Scully isn't that kind of
woman.  I'd know if there was someone.

Wouldn't I?

Curiosity wins out.  I *have* to know what's
going on.

"Scully?"  Good God, that sounded awfully pleading.

"Hmmm..."  Gee, honey, why don't you just purr in
contentment and add to my anxiety?  She's still
staring at her computer.  Why won't she look at
me?

Oh, God!  She *knows* that I'll be able to tell.

It's worse than I thought.

I clear my throat and try again.  "Rough morning?"

The corners of her mouth turn toward the sky just
slightly.  Her flushed face reddens just a tiny bit
more.  Without moving her head, she glances at me
sideways.

Do her eyes look dilated with arousal?  Shit!  I
think that they are!

Not only did she have sex, but it was *mindblowing*
sex.

If there's a God, would it be too much to ask Him
to strike me dead with a bolt of lightening?  I'm
sure I'd prefer that to this fate worse than death.

"Oh Mulder," she practically moans, "it was amazing."

Did I ask for details?  I don't remember asking for
details.  I'm almost positive I didn't, but I never
can be too sure.  I...

"I think I'm in love."

Silence.

More silence.

Okay, I think I forgot how to breathe.  She's not
only having sex, but she's in love with the guy,
too.  My heart thuds dully on my stomach, since
it decided to leave my chest after Scully's
declaration.

Who needs to worry about aliens and hitmen?  My
own partner is doing a fine job at killing me.

I look back over at Scully.  She's almost giddy
with joy.

"It's soooo unbelievable, Mulder.  Like nothing
you've ever experienced."

Why doesn't she rub it in my face?

"Oh, Mulder," she's laughing now.  "I'm sure
you'll get your opportunity soon enough."

Okay, I must have said that last part out
loud.  And what opportunity is she talking
about?  I was waiting for an opportunity with
her!  I don't want anyone else, damnit!

She's so excited that it's disgusting.

"I can't believe how wild I feel now.  It
makes me feel so fucking free!"

My little wild child is swearing now.  It
must have been good.

My Scully.

Not my Scully anymore, I correct myself.

"If I want to take things slow and easy,
then the ride is slow and easy.  If I want
it fast and exciting, well, you get the
picture."

Unfortunately, I *do* get the picture.  Of
course, there's one little detail still blank
in my mind.

Just *who* is this prick who thinks he can
waltz in and sweep Scully off her three
inch heels?

"One stroke of my hand and it's like listening
to a kitten purr."

Do I look like I care?  I don't want to know
about Scully stroking anything on anyone!
Unless it's me, of course.  But, I *know* it's
not me in this case.

I watch silently as a droplet of sweat trickles
down her flushed neck and into the hidden valley
beneath her shirt.

Why?

Why did I have to wait so long?  She could have
been mine!  Now, some other lucky bastard has
taken my place before I could even get there.

"And Joe says I can have it whenever I want it!"

Well good for Joe!  Eager to please and stamina,
too.  I look at the ground and will it to swallow
me until I reach the pit of Hades.  *Joe* can give
it to her whenever she wants.

Wait a minute?

Joe?

"Joe who?"  I must be a masochist, but I have to know.

"Joe Spencer."

"Joe Spencer?  From accounting?"

She nods her head affirmatively.  Now, I have
a face to go with all of those images of sex and
Scully.  Joe Spencer.  Tall, dark, and not a
trace of spookiness in sight.  He's what you
would call a *normal* guy.

Normal?  Why couldn't I have been normal?  How
many times has Scully mentioned her desire for
a normal life?  Too many to count.  Christ!  My
stupid quest has just caused me to lose the one
true thing in my life.

I wonder if he'd like to get as up close and
personal with my gun as he did with my partner.

"How long have you known Joe Spencer?"

"I spoke to him the for the first time last
week.  I answered an ad he placed in the paper.
I had no idea it was him.  You can't imagine
how surprised I was when I found out he worked
for the FBI, too."

Surprised?  If anyone is surprised, it's me.
I can't believe that Scully was looking in the
Lonely Hearts section of the paper.

Looking at them?  Hell, she was *answering*
them!

"Scully, don't you think this is a little sudden?"

That's good, Mulder!  Try to appeal to her
rationality.  It's what makes her tick.

"I know what you're thinking, Mulder.  Can
Joe be trusted?  But, after this morning, I think
that it is sooooo worth it!"

I've just discovered the shocking truth.  My
beloved partner, Dana Scully, Queen of Virtue,
will do anything for good sex.

I discovered it, all right.  Too little, too late.

"Besides," she perks up, "I've always wanted a
pony."

"Huh?"  Okay, I think that this is a little
too kinky for me.

"A pony," she repeats for my benefit.

I stare at her dumbly.  "A pony?"

"Yeah, Mulder!  A pony car.  You know, a
Mustang."

"A car?"  Did she just say a car?  Please tell
me she just said a car.

"Yeah, Joe Spencer is selling his Mustang
convertible.  It's gorgeous.  Candy apple
red.  Runs like a dream.  I rented one
when I went on vacation in Maine a couple
of years ago and I've been in love with that
car since then.  I never dreamed I own one."

"You're buying a sports car?"  I feel like
I just woke up from a nightmare and I'm in
desperate need of being pinched to assure
that I'm awake.

"Yes, Mulder.  I took it for a test
drive this morning.  Remember when I
told you last night that I'd be late
this morning because I was checking out
a car?  What the hell do you think
I've been talking about for the last 15
minutes?"

I can feel my face turn red with embarrassment.
She's buying a car.  Not just any car, but
a sports car.  A convertible that gives her
an unbelievably arousing look.

Holy shit!

"Mulder?"  She's really curious now.  "What
did you think I was talking about?"

"Nothing."  Oops.  That came out just a little
too quickly.

She gives me her *Mulder-is-full-of-shit* look
with her eyebrow cocked in disbelief.

Who needs torture to make them talk?  I've got
Scully's death glare demanding an answer.

"I thought you were talking about sex."  Boy,
that sounded manly.  Maybe next time, I'll squeak
on key.

"Sex?"  It's all she can do to keep from laughing.
"Well," she smiles enigmatically as she pulls on
my tie, "why don't we go take my top off and I'll
show you how to handle my tight curves."

"Yee haw!  Can I drive?"

"Don't push it, Mulder."

I always did want to tame a wild Mustang.
 

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The End.
 

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Author's Notes:  What can I say?  This piece was
inspired by my personal love affair with my car.
Trust me, once you've driven a convertible, there's
no going back. *g*  I was also tickled by the idea
of a miscommunication, but with less than serious
consequences.

If you'd like to see Scully's dream car, take a
look a http://fbimagination.faithweb.com/mustang.jpg
and ignore the fact that my nephews are sitting
in it. :)

As always, xfsista@hotmail.com likes to have her
ego stroked (get your mind out of the gutter *g*).
 

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