From: Dianora2
Date: 13 Jun 1998 16:26:57 GMT
Subject: NEW: "Hopeless" 1/2 by Dianora *NC17*
"Hopeless" by Dianora 1/2
Rating: NC17 for sexual situations
Category: S, R
Archive: yes please
Spoilers: This is pre-"Christmas Carol," mainly because
I don't do Mommy Angst. (If you know me, that will
not surprise you. ) Only spoilers are for "Redux II."
Summary: Mulder loses control for a minute and Our Heroes
have to deal with the aftermath.
Disclaimer: If Mulder and Scully belonged to me instead
of Chris Carter, my world would be a happier place.
Unfortunately, I didn't make them up, so now I have to settle
for this stuff instead.
This is my first XF piece in quite some time; as such,
it doesn't have too much substance. It does, however, have
some steamy sex, so I hope that satisfies you.
Comments, flames, praise, observations on the minutiae of
every day life, offers to start a fan club all go to Dianora2@aol.com.
(Hey, it can't hurt to mention it. :-D) Check out my website at
members.aol.com/dianora2/main.htm
On with the show...
"Hey."
Mulder looked up from the magazine he wasn't reading and
tried to smile at his partner. "Hey."
She stepped closer to him, brushing imaginary lint off of her
maroon suit jacket, fidgeting. Uncomfortable. "I missed you in the
staff meeting this morning."
Mulder shrugged. "Skinner'll get on me for it later. I just didn't
feel like facing that crowd today." He winced internally, realizing
just how lame he sounded.
Scully nodded, obviously aware of his dissembling, but
disinclined to pursue it. "So...what's the decision on that case
in Texas we discussed yesterday?" She was carefully neutral,
professional to a fault; he had to give her credit for that.
"Oh, it, uh, fell through. False alarm."
She raised an eyebrow. "Really."
"Yeah. Turned out to be some kid's idea of a joke." That was
the truth, at least. Dumb and embarrassing, but true. Mulder
swallowed around the dry lump in his throat. Does she want
to talk about it? I don't want to talk about it.
She traced abstract patterns on his desktop, watching the
movements of her finger instead of him. He tried not to notice,
focused instead on the way the fluorescent lighting glinted off
the red highlights in her hair. "Should we talk about it?" she
asked softly.
Dammit. He cleared his throat. "About what?"
He could practically hear her silent response: About the fact that
you kissed me yesterday, just a few feet from where I'm standing
right now, until you freaked out and ran out of here without
looking back? Aloud she said, "Forget it, Mulder."
"Scully, I --"
"I said forget it," she interrupted. Now she did look at him, with
a steely glare that set his teeth on edge. "I have an autopsy to do as a
favor for Skinner this afternoon. If you need me, you know where I am."
She turned on her heel and left. She'd become a master of the
dramatic exit these past few years.
Damn. Damn damn damn damn damn damn damn. He closed the
magazine in disgust and propped his feet up on the desk, reaching
around for a pen to chew until he latched onto one. He popped it into
his mouth and began chewing vigorously, hoping he didn't have an
ink spill accident like last time - he was wearing a new shirt.
Poor Scully. He knew he was being a coward, but couldn't seem to
work up the nerve to act any differently. Kissing her yesterday had
been a mistake, a =huge= mistake, and he'd been hoping he could
leave it alone until it scabbed up and healed rather than re-opening
the wound over and over by talking about it.
Apparently Scully felt differently. He considered the possibility that his
partner was a masochist, then snorted in disgust. The very fact that
she was still working with him indicated that she was, so he supposed
that was neither here nor there.
He reluctantly thought back to the day before, summoning up the image
of the two of them in this very office, discussing the case in Texas he'd
just come across. It concerned alien abduction, so he knew right off that
he was in for a battle. Expected it. In a perverse way, he kind of looked
forward to it.
It had begun as a standard difference of opinion, almost as if they were
reading lines in a play, they knew them so well. But then he made a crack
about her implant. In the past she'd laughed it off or parried with a cutting
remark, but yesterday, she just started crying. Crying. It was the damndest
thing. It took him so by surprise that he was speechless, then ashamed of
himself. He went over to her, put his hands on her shoulders, said he was
sorry. She looked up at him, eyes filled with tears, and he wanted to do
something to make her feel better. Was sick and tired of =not= being able
to make her feel better.
So he kissed her.
He'd had his share of fantasies about kissing his partner, obviously, had gone
over it in his head a thousand times, but he hadn't counted on the undignified
reality of his mouth clumsily pressing against hers, teeth clashing, tongue
fumbling.
Christ, had he really been that pathetic?
The surprisingly visceral memory assured him that it had. Every time he
closed his eyes he could feel the softness of her lips against his, her
surprised
intake of breath against his mouth. The way her body tensed beneath his hand,
in what? Shock? Revulsion? He didn't stick around to find out. He'd had
a total wig-out as soon as he'd realized what he was doing and ran out of
there. She didn't even call after him. She'd probably been too busy wiping
the drool off of her mouth.
And now she wanted to talk about it? Couldn't they leave such mistakes
untouched? Was she going to worry at it like a dog with a bone until he
admitted what an idiot he was?
He had a sinking feeling he knew the answer all too well.
Not for the first time in his life, he half-heartedly wished that Scully
had been a guy.
He didn't see her again until late that night, when an insistent knocking
at his door roused him from a state of half-sleep in front of the TV.
"Can I come in?"
Mulder looked down at his partner in sleepy puzzlement.
"Um, yeah. What's up?"
She stared at him, not answering, until he realized he was
still blocking the doorway. "Sorry," he muttered, resisting
an urge to scratch his balls in his usual wake-up ritual. "I
was kinda sleeping."
"I'm sorry to bother you this late," she said as he let her inside.
"But I...well, I don't know. I don't know why I'm here, Mulder.
I guess I just needed someone to talk to, and those kinds of
people are in short supply these days."
He turned the television off and took in her red-rimmed
eyes and straggly hair. She was wearing sweatpants and a
faded t-shirt. All in all, she looked like hell. A beautiful hell,
but hell nonetheless. "Scully, what is it?"
She sat down on the couch, stared straight ahead. "My aunt
died early this evening."
He rubbed the back of his neck, searching his addled brain
for the appropriate response. "I'm sorry. Was she sick?"
"Ovarian cancer. She'd been seriously ill for some time, it wasn't
unexpected." She looked down at her hands. "I...I didn't even like
her, actually. She was my mom's sister, and something of a...Bible-
thumper, I guess you'd call her. Always preaching fire and brimstone.
Not surprisingly, we didn't get along."
Mulder had to smile. "Imagine that." He sat down next to her on the
couch, gingerly, careful not to touch her. He could sense the tension
coiled within her, and wanted her to have her distance. Didn't want
to touch her anyway, after yesterday's debacle.
"It's why I was such a...mess yesterday," she said, not meeting his
eyes. "Mom flew down to Atlanta the night before to be with her, because
they had a feeling the end was near. The news stirred up a lot of things
for me. Things I've tried to avoid thinking about lately.
"I feel guilty, Mulder," she continued after a strained pause. "I feel
guilty for not being more upset about my aunt's passing. Guilty for
not being with my mother right now -- I couldn't get a flight out
until tomorrow.
"But most of all, Mulder, I feel guilty for being alive."
"I don't understand."
She visibly struggled to put her thoughts into words. "It just doesn't
seem fair, does it. By all rights I should be dead, just like all those
other MUFON women. Instead, my aunt is. I know it doesn't make
any sense, but...I almost feel like she died in my place." She shook
herself abruptly, dismissing her musings. "I'm being stupid."
"I don't think you're being stupid." She shot him a flustered look,
and he quickly amended himself. "I mean, I don't think what you're
saying makes much sense, but I don't think you're stupid, either."
She didn't quite smile, but the corners of her mouth jerked a bit.
"Thanks."
"Besides, guilt is supposed to be my department, remember?" he
said, trying to lighten things up. "Fox Mulder, Poster Boy for
Guilt and Self-Loathing. You may be the Catholic one in this
partnership, but I'm the dysfunctional one, after all."
"Mulder, I -"
"Never mind." He shook his head. How could he make her see?
"I just don't want you feeling guilty for being alive. If you weren't..."
He stopped and cleared his throat, embarrassed. His parents had
always told him that some sentences were better left unfinished.
Unfortunately, Scully wasn't having it. "What?"
He stared at his bare feet, dimly noted his toenails needed clipping.
It occurred to him that throughout his life, he'd discovered that what
his parents had told him was usually wrong.
"If you weren't alive, I probably wouldn't be either." It was a
mumble, really, but of course she heard it.
Her eyelids fluttered. "Mulder..."
"Scully, I shouldn't have said anything. Forget it. It never
happened." Oh yeah, that was convincing.
Scully took a deep breath, opened her mouth, hesitated, then
exhaled and continued. "Mulder, the cancer isn't gone, you know.
It's in remission, but it's not =gone.= It's still...lurking there, in
my body. I know we haven't addressed that fact -- haven't wanted
to -- but...I need to know something. I need to know that if...if it
does come back...that I can count on you to not hurt yourself.
You may think I didn't notice your behavior over those months,
but I did. You scared me, Mulder."
He looked away from her. "I try not to make promises I can't
keep."
"Then I want you to promise me, right now, that I don't have to worry
about you doing anything stupid. Well, no more so than usual." The
joke fell flat.
"It's a little late for that, isn't it?" he asked bitterly.
"What do you mean?"
"You know what I mean, Scully. What happened yesterday, at the
office."
She looked away from him, down at her laced fingers again. "So =now=
you want to talk about it?"
He gulped. "No," he said honestly.
She let out a low chuckle. "I'll say one thing for you, Mulder.
You certainly can be predictable."
He nodded in agreement. There was a long silence. "So now
what?" he asked finally.
She turned her head to face him, her eyes piercing his like ice picks.
"I don't know, Mulder. I wish I did. I'm...I'm sick of living like
this."
"Like what?" he asked, not really wanting to know.
She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. When she did speak,
her voice was weary. "Like I'm in slow motion. Like no matter how
hard I try to move forward, I still wind up stuck in the same spot.
It's tiring, Mulder. Aren't you tired?"
He smiled self-consciously. "I'm exhausted."
Their eyes met and she smiled back. His heart leapt in his chest,
and he had to remind himself to keep breathing.
"Then why don't we stop running?" she whispered. She tentatively
reached out and put her hand over his.
Her touch was like fire, and he could tell that she felt it too.
They both looked down at their hands as if they had committed some
atrocity.
Perhaps they had? Too soon to tell. His head rose first, his face
studying hers until her eyes lifted as well. She looked at him,
then away, then back again. Her gaze was steady. Unflinching.
Unapologetic. Beseeching, and proud at the same time.
I'm going to kiss her again, he realized. I'm going to be a moron
and kiss her again and there's absolutely nothing I can do about it.
Continued in part 2.
"Hopeless" by Dianora 2/2
I'm going to kiss her again, he realized. I'm going to be a moron
and kiss her again and there's absolutely nothing I can do about it.
Slowly, so slowly, he began to move his head toward hers, giving
her time to back away, to end it now. Her eyelids fluttered and
her mouth opened and closed, but otherwise she didn't move.
His lips brushed hers softly, then lifted. He waited, with their
mouths mere millimeters apart, until she moved in for the next
kiss, her lips barely touching his before pulling away. He leaned
in again, and the kiss lasted just a fraction of a second longer this
time. They continued like that for a while, indulging in the barest
of kisses, their lips coming together and drifting apart again and a
gain, softly, quickly, as if afraid to linger for too long. Their
dueling mouths was the only contact between them. Finally, with a
trembling hand, Mulder reached up to bury his fingers in her hair,
and the gesture was like a dam breaking. His mouth covered hers
completely and she opened beneath him, taking his tongue into her
mouth, kissing fully and deeply and with increasing passion until he
was clasping her head in his hands. He felt her fingers brush his
waist, then her hands settle there hesitantly. They were kissing and
kissing and kissing and finally Mulder pulled away, gulping in air,
trying to get his brain to start working again.
Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes danced. Her chest
rose and fell beneath her sweater and Mulder suddenly realized that
if he didn't touch her breasts he was going to go mad. "Scully," he
whispered, willing her to say something, do something. He didn't
release her hair, felt that if he let her go now he'd never have her
again.
She lifted one hand to touch the side of his face. Her fingers were
cool against his cheek. "Scared?" she asked simply.
He couldn't help but let out a short laugh at that, delighted
when she returned the smile. "What do you think?" he replied.
Her smile widened and her eyes looked back down at his mouth. They
leaned in again until their lips touched, hesitant once more, worried that
they had broken the spell.
They hadn't. Her lips were soft and warm and welcoming and her arms
slipped more firmly around his waist, her fingers splayed across his
lower back. He wrapped his arms more firmly around her, pulling her
close, and she didn't resist.
The kiss went on for what seemed like forever, until Mulder worked up
the nerve to move his lips from hers, to instead nuzzle at her neck,
breathing in the perfumed scent of her, tasting the skin at the base of her
ear. A low protesting sound escaped from her throat, and he pulled back.
"What is it?" he croaked, still holding her tight.
She shook her head. "I don't know. It's...it's just too much, Mulder.
I can't..." Her voice broke and her eyes sparkled with nascent tears.
His heart stopped. "Do you want to leave?"
Eternity stretched in the silence. Finally: "No," she whispered. "I want
to stay here tonight, if you'll let me."
Relief flooded through him in a warm rush and he searched her eyes to
make sure she was saying what he thought she was saying. At her answering
look of reassurance, he covered her mouth with his again, this time more
urgently, putting all of his need and desire into it. He brought one hand up
to the swell of her breast, brushed it with his fingers before reaching up to
cup it firmly. She moaned softly and leaned into him, encouraging the
contact.
His head was swimming through murky waters and his skin was aflame
and all he could do about it was to keep kissing her and hope it wouldn't end,
ever. He began to caress her breast in slow circles as she tangled the
fingers of one hand in his hair at the base of his neck. The tenderness in
the gesture set him reeling and made him feel bold enough to slip under
her t--shirt, touching her breast gingerly through her bra. He rubbed his
thumb over the hardened nipple he felt there, and she moaned again.
She pulled back a little and his heart stopped, then started up again when
he realized she was just taking off her shirt. She slipped it over her head
and threw it aside, then allowed him to push aside one strap of the ivory
satin bra and kiss her shoulder. When he reached behind to undo the
clasp he heard her breathe in sharply, but she didn't protest. He pulled
the undergarment off of her slowly, then leaned back to look at her. Her
breasts were round, the nipples pale and pebbled against the air. He
touched them reverently, tracing them with his fingers. She watched him
silently, then surprised him by entwining her arms around his neck and
pulling him down with her so that he was lying on top of her on the couch.
He showered kisses over her lips, cheeks, nose, forehead, before finally
moving lower and taking one nipple into his mouth.
Another wordless moan escaped her as he suckled there, nibbling and
sucking as she arched up against him and clasped his head in her hands.
He moved from one breast to the other, taking his time, enjoying the
way she rhythmically smoothed his hair with her slender fingers. Her pelvis
began moving in time with her breathing, up and down against him until he
had to stop what he was doing, afraid he would lose control. He grabbed at the
back of his shirt and pulled it over his head, then sank down against her once
more. He reveled in the delicious sensation of skin against skin, her smooth
arms against his, her hardened nipples grazing the hair on his chest.
They kissed again, leisurely, as if time was standing still for them, lips and
tongue meeting and parting, their movements as synchronized like they had
been kissing each other forever. At that moment he couldn't remember a time
when they hadn't been.
Mulder wasn't sure how much more he could take. The very thought of
Scully being the woman beneath him had been enough to send him over the
edge in his fantasy life -- the reality was almost overwhelming. He began to
tug urgently at her sweatpants, undoing the drawstring with clumsy fingers,
then
dragging them down the length of her shapely legs. He did the same with her
panties so that she was naked on the couch, squirming against the chill in the
air, reaching for him.
Instead he stood up to slip his boxers off. She scootched up on the couch so
that she was sitting before him, watching him, boldly drinking in the sight of
him. Mulder didn't mind -- size was one of the few things he never had
insecurities about. But she looked so damn good sitting there that he
couldn't help himself. He knelt before her and spread her thighs and over
her strangled protest placed his head between her legs.
She let out a loud, high-pitched sigh when his tongue made contact with
her flesh. He fought back a smile and explored the delicate folds there,
tracing his tongue around every curve, flickering in and out of her,
occasionally taking the hardened nub into his mouth and sucking strongly.
She hooked her legs over his shoulders and moaned a sound of ecstasy
that he never thought he'd hear from her mouth. He opened his eyes and
peered up at her. She had both of her hands tangled in her hair, her eyes
were closed and her head was thrown back, her mouth slightly parted.
Her full breasts heaved with every intake of breath. It was quite possibly the
most stunning sight he'd ever seen.
It only encouraged him to increase the intensity of what he was doing. He
nibbled and tasted and sucked until her hips were rising and falling in tune
with him and her moans increased in frequency and volume. Finally she
tensed and then exploded, convulsing against him, gasping and groaning
wordlessly. He didn't stop teasing her until she subsided. He planted one
final kiss and then raised his head and rose up to kiss her on the mouth.
She returned the kiss fully, even as her body continued to periodically twitch
beneath him.
When their lips parted she smiled up at him. "Nice." She sounded downright
giddy; it blew him away. "Your turn."
He opened his mouth to tell her it wasn't necessary, but she cut him off
with a finger to his lips. "Stand up," she said quietly.
He obeyed - how could he not? -- and stood before her, then bit his lip when
Scully sat up on the couch and took his cock in her mouth. His knees
buckled, but he refused to give into them. He locked them into place and
buried his fingers in her hair, watching the red head bob up and down as
she enveloped him.
And her mouth - god. Her mouth was hot and wet and exerting just the
right amount of pressure, sliding up and down on him, her tongue scraping
the underside of him with deftness. He didn't want to think about how she
was so good at it, he just accepted it and went along for the roller coaster
ride. His cock throbbed and twitched until he was =really= too close to the
edge, and he whispered hoarsely for her to stop, even though it was
arguably the toughest thing he'd ever done.
She complied immediately, removing her mouth and looking up at him.
The air of the room was cold against his wet cock and he found the sensation
oddly erotic. Not surprising, he supposed, since every nerve ending felt
turned
up, attuned to nothing but Her presence, the sight, feel, smell, taste of Her.
He pulled her up and close and kissed her for a long time, treasuring her
tiny body against his, before backing her up toward the couch. She fell down
onto it and took him with her, his body covering hers again, skin against skin.
Mulder took Scully's hands in his and raised her arms above her head, bringing
himself down on top of her more firmly. His eyes bore into hers, offering one
last chance to end it, but she raised her head up to kiss him in answer.
He entered her slowly, carefully, nearly stopping when she bit her lip and
let out a yelp. Even though she was wet and ready for him, she was nonetheless
so tight that he was terrified of hurting her, but she urged him on
breathlessly
until he was deep inside. It had evidently been a while for her.
Once he was in he stopped for a moment, just looking at her. She returned his
gaze with a look of happiness and anticipation. "Mulder, I'm fine," she
whispered
with a self-aware grin.
He laughed and began to move slowly within her, in and out, taking his time
with sure, measured thrusts, concentrating, wanting this to be as good for her
as
it already was for him. Her fingers tightened around his as her hips rose and
fell
to meet his thrusts, the two of them moving together in harmony, their
partnership
instincts, as always, taking over. He looked down at her and her eyes locked
onto his.
The intensity was almost unnerving. There is something about staring into
another's eyes during sex, a baring of the soul that surpasses anything else.
Mulder was afraid to go there, but he went anyway, trying to convey with
his eyes what his body was already telling her.
Never being ones for needless conversation, they made love relatively
quietly, communicating with their bodies rather than words. Inevitably
the rhythm increased, faster and faster until Mulder knew it was just a
matter of seconds before he plunged over the edge into oblivion.
"Scully..." he croaked.
"Almost, Mulder," she told him, her head suddenly jerking back in a
rictus of ecstasy. "God...almost..."
And then it was happening again, her convulsing beneath him, and her
muscles clamped around his cock until he spilled over himself, body
beyond his control, gushing into her as she milked him dry. "Scull...Sc..."
he gasped, unable to even form the word. She whispered his name over
and over and over in an orgasm-induced mantra.
He eased down on top of her, spent, his mouth hanging open as he tried
to recover. Her chest heaved beneath him as she took in deep, ragged
breaths. He closed his hand over her breast and tried to get his voice to
work, then realized he had no idea what to say.
Scully, as always, saved him. "If this is a dream, don't wake me, okay?"
she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
He shifted on the couch so that they were almost side by side, then
placed his hand on her hip, tracing the curve of it. "You got a deal."
He kissed her on her temple, ear, neck. She smelled of perfume
and sweat. She reached up to smooth his hair tenderly, then ran her
hand down his chest, slowly, thoroughly, as if committing the feel
of it to memory. He watched her, feeling strangely turned on by the
possessive quality of her wanderings. "Do I pass inspection, Dr. Scully?"
he asked.
"Clean bill of health," she said glibly.
He kissed her then, deeply, his arms tightening around her as her body
responded to his once more, arching against him, warm, ready. When
they finally parted, he whispered into her mouth. "Now what?"
There was a silence that went on for almost too long, until she let out
a sigh tinged with uncertainty. "I don't know, Mulder," she said. "I
wish I did. Do we have to decide right now? Can't we just have tonight?
If that's not enough --"
He cut her off with another kiss, not wanting her to finish the sentence.
"It's okay," he said when they came up for air. "Tonight is good. Tonight
is more than I ever hoped for," he said with unusual candor.
"It may have to..." She trailed off. He knew what lay at the end of her
unfinished sentence; knew she didn't want to complete the thought as
much as he didn't want to hear it.
So instead, he kissed her, again. Kissed her and let his body do the talking,
and hoped that it wouldn't be for the last time.
End.