Title:          Revenge
Author:         Lovesfox
E-mail:         Lovesfox@rogers.com  (Feed me, please)
Web site:       http://www.geocities.com/kim_djd/index.html
Rating:         NC-17 (violence, consensual M/S sex and strong 
                language)
Category:       Implied UST then MSR, Angst, Story/X-File
Classification: XRA
Spoilers:       Not really, but up to mid-S7
Archive:        As long as my name and everything stays attached
Summary:        An old case of Mulder's resurfaces seeking revenge

Disclaimer:     Alas, not mine.  They belong to Chris Carter and 
                1013 Productions

Dedication:     To true friendship, through thick and thin. 
                Thanks, T.

Warning:        This story contains some scenes of violence, a rape 
                Attempt, implied character death, references to 
                incest, and graphic sex.




Revenge Part 19 of 29
by Lovesfox


Skinner's Office
J. Edgar Hoover Building
Wednesday
10:00 am


Walter Skinner stepped into his outer office and looked up to see 
Kimberley watching him expectantly.  She had a smile on her face 
that he could only describe as enigmatic.  He crooked an eyebrow 
at her in question, and she cheerily explained, "I heard you in the 
hall."  

Her eyes flickered briefly from him to his opened office door 
before lowering to her desk.  She reached out and picked up a file 
that was lying there, along with two pink message slips.  She held 
them out and said, "Agent Carmichael dropped this by, and there are 
two messages for you, sir." 

He continued forward and took the file and slips from her hand, 
glancing cursorily at both.  As he did, Kimberley added, "One of 
the messages is from a reporter in Leesburg, where Agent Scully 
was found."

"Thank-you, Kimberley," he said a little absently, as he shifted 
the slips so he could see the one from the reporter, an image of 
the young woman he had spoken to at the Leesburg Mental Hospital 
after Scully's dramatic rescue by Mulder entering his conscious 
briefly. 

Shoulder length reddish-blonde hair, quite short, with a determined 
look on her face.  He read the slip.  Heather Baber, Leesburg News, 
followed by a telephone number.

He had another vague memory, of seeing her at the hospital, her 
calling his name.  He had been too concerned about learning the 
status of his two agents, and getting Mrs. Scully to her daughter, 
to talk to the reporter at that time.  

An idea formed in his head.  As he had just been discussing with 
his superior, there had still been no sign of Elliot Andercott.  
It was unknown as to whether the man was dead or alive.  Perhaps 
getting the story out again, getting the man's face and name on the 
news and in the papers could help flush him out if he were alive.  
He gripped the message tightly, and headed to his office, resolving 
that after first calling the Media Relations Department, he would 
call Heather Baber as soon as possible.

He stepped into his office, turning to tell Kimberley to hold all 
his calls before he shut his door, and found his assistant staring 
at him with that same strange smile.  What in the hell was wrong 
with the woman?  Had he forgotten her birthday or secretary's day 
or something?  Wait, no, her birthday was just before Christmas, so 
that couldn't be it.  He decided to ignore it, shrugging his 
shoulders irritably, and said somewhat gruffly, "Hold all my calls, 
please."

Kimberley nodded, still smiling, and with a small shake of his head, 
Skinner shut the door.  He crossed the floor, dropping the file from 
Agent Carmichael on the stack already there for his perusal, and put 
the message slips on his blotter.  He slipped out of his jacket and 
draped it on his chair before taking a seat and pushing the chair 
closer to the desk.

It was not until he reached for the telephone did he see what 
appeared to be a folded piece of notepaper lying on his blotter, not 
far from the two pink slips.  He looked around his office, as if he 
might find someone still there, and then glanced at the closed door 
leading to the outer office where Kimberley manned her desk.  

Whomever had placed the paper on his desk had to have gone past 
Kimberley, for the double doors leading out to the hallway bypassing 
the outer office were always locked, and his assistant would have 
said something if she had been the one to place it there.

Thinking of her odd little smiles, he wondered if she was aware of 
the note, and decided she must be.  He finally picked the notepaper 
up and unfolded it.  It was a piece of personal stationary, not 
Bureau issue, with some sort of purple flowers bordering the entire 
edge, and the writing on it was definitely feminine.

Adjusting his glasses minutely, Skinner began to read:

'Walter~

I'm hoping you'll be free this Friday night.  I have made 
reservations at The Bistro for 7 pm.  

Allison'

Beneath her name was a telephone number, one he assumed to be her 
home phone number.  He stared at the note for a long moment, idly 
admiring her handwriting, before folding the paper back up and 
tucking it into the inner pocket of his suit jacket.  He would wait 
and call her tonight, from home.  To accept her invitation.

That decided, he picked up the other pink message slip, and re-read 
iit. It was from Karen Kossoff, of the Employee Assistance Program, 
advising him she had arranged a time to meet with Scully for her 
mental fitness evaluation this coming Friday.  It was standard 
procedure after injuries sustained while on duty.  He would call 
Scully after he spoke with Heather Baber, to confirm she had 
received notification of the appointment, and to inform her of his 
decision to have Elliot Andercott's face and name put out by the 
media.  He also had to tell her and Mulder that the FBI protection 
for them was officially over, despite his attempts to dissuade his 
superiors to the contrary. Though he was certain the pair would 
notice when the unmarked car outside her apartment building was no 
longer there.

His call with the Media Relations Department left him with a 
headache, but at least they had come to an agreement.  They would 
handle speaking to the local papers and news shows here in 
Washington, while he called the Leesburg News.  There was always 
an off chance that Andercott had remained in Leesburg, despite the 
lack of any sightings.  They had no way of knowing whether he might
have had other places set up to hideout in.

Skinner removed his glasses, laying them down on his desk, and 
pinched the bridge of his nose.  A quick glance at his watch showed 
that it was only 10:45.  The day was not even half over, and he 
already felt like calling it quits.  Not that he would, of course.  
It just wasn't in his nature, was not how he had been raised and to 
further that, his time in the Marines had instilled an even greater 
sense of responsibility and discipline. 

With that in mind, he donned his glasses again and picked the phone
up, cradling it between his ear and shoulder as he dialed the number 
for Heather Baber.  

It rang twice, and then a female voice said, "This is Heather Baber 
with the Leesburg News."

"Miss Baber, this is Walter Skinner.  You phoned my office today."  
He spoke the words crisply as his fingers tapped on his desk 
blotter. He mused about how ballsy the reporter was in phoning him 
directly, and not going through the proper channels.  He recalled 
how she had reminded him of Scully at the scene in Leesburg, and 
how this move would also be typical of his agent, going right for 
the top and skipping the go-betweens.  He admired it, and realized 
that even if he hadn't already planned on discussing the case with 
her for a tactical move, he probably would have spoken to her 
anyway.  

Although he also would have directed her to ASAC Powell, who had 
been in charge in Leesburg until Mulder and he had arrived there.

"Oh!  Um, yes I did.  Thank you for returning my call," came her 
voice through the receiver, followed by the sound of papers 
shuffling.  There was a pause, and then she continued, "The reason 
I called was that I am interested in doing a follow-up to the fire 
at the mental hospital and on the man responsible.  I understand 
you are in charge of the investigation, and was wondering if you 
would mind answering some questions?"

There was a fine line as to who was actually in charge of the case, 
actually, Skinner thought.  Powell was still running the 
investigation into Andercott from his Field Office, but no doubt the 
case was not his only priority.  Mulder had certainly been an 
important part of it, while he himself was both Mulder and Scully's 
direct superior, and had a vested personal interest.  He was not 
however a field agent, and very rarely did he involve himself this 
completely.  This was not something he could explain, so instead he
merely replied, "Yes, I am, along with Agent Powell, and yes I can 
probably answer some of your questions.  There is also another 
reason I returned your call."  He then proceeded to explain his 
intention to have an article published in the Leesburg News, along 
with the composite of Elliot Andercott.

Heather Baber, while obviously young, seemed to know her stuff, and 
plunged right in.  In no time at all they had gone over the 
pertinent facts, once he had informed her the FBI did not want to 
release the name of the agent who had been kidnapped, nor the agent 
who had pulled her from the fire.  He gave her permission to use his 
name in the story and requested her fax number for him send a 
current composite of Elliot Andercott.  He then gave her the contact 
number to be printed in case anyone had information about Andercott 
or had seen the man who was now a fugitive.

Skinner concluded the call and proceeded to his next one, to 
Scully.  Mulder answered, and after a brief greeting, made a snide 
remark about the ending of the surveillance.  

Skinner commiserated and then went on to inform Mulder of the media 
reports that were soon to come out about Andercott.  His agent was 
silent for a moment before commenting that they should have thought 
of it sooner.  

They spoke for a few more moments, with Mulder reiterating that he 
would be staying with Scully, and that alternate surveillance had 
been arranged, before Scully came on the line.  

He asked her if she had spoken to Karen Kossoff, to which she 
replied in the affirmative, and after receiving positive responses 
to his inquiry about her health, he said he would see the two of 
them on Friday.  Scully replied warmly, thanking him for his call 
and the conversation was ended.

Deciding a cup of coffee was in order before attacking the 
accumulated paperwork, he rose from his desk and stretched briefly, 
feeling the pull of muscles in a desperate need of a workout.  As 
he shrugged into his jacket, he made a mental note to himself to 
head to the gym in the evening.  Straightening his tie, he made 
his way over to the closed door that led to the outer office.  

Stepping through, he glanced at Kimberley's desk and found her 
regarding him once more.  He nodded at her and said, "I'll be 
back shortly."  He turned to go, and out of the corner of his eye, 
saw a look of disappointment cross her face.  

With an inward sigh of resignation he decided his assistant was 
definitely aware of the note from Allison.  It was somewhat 
discomforting, and he swore as he left the office that he could 
feel her eyes on his back.

Women.

***

Scully's Apartment
Georgetown, D.C.
Wednesday
6:53 pm


From the kitchen where she was tidying up the remains of their 
delivered Chinese food dinner, Scully could hear the different 
sounds of TV shows as Mulder channel surfed his way through each 
and every one.  In the last few days living with Mulder she had 
been witness to a whole new plethora of his habits, some of which 
were very endearing.  

Others were not, and were instead downright annoying.  His almost 
mindless need to flick through channel after channel was one of 
those habits.

The sounds ceased.  Wryly she thought that it would be her luck 
that Mulder would find a dirty movie to watch.  A smile quirked 
across her face and then was gone as she first scraped their 
plates clean and then rinsed them before loading them in her 
dishwasher.  

She returned to her earlier train of thought about personal 
habits.

She had to admit that it was more than likely that Mulder had 
found some of her habits irritating.  But this was her apartment.  
Her home.  Her sanctuary.  And sometimes she felt like it had 
been invaded.  She tossed the scraps into the garbage and rinsed 
out the containers to go in the recycling bin, while musing that 
it could just be the fact that she was going a little stir crazy, 
despite their outing of yesterday.

Click.  Click.  Click.  

The channel changing resumed again, making her grit her teeth.

With a last wipe of the table and countertop, she rinsed the 
dishcloth out and hung it neatly on the tap and then headed into 
the other room to tell Mulder to either pick a damn show or to 
pop in a movie before he drove her insane.  She rounded the 
wingback chair to the left of the couch, her eyes flicking to 
the television, and the sentence died unspoken. Her steps 
faltered and then stopped completely as she recognized the 
picture on the screen.  

Elliot Andercott.

Mulder's indrawn hiss of breath was a faint sound, and 
peripherally Scully saw his arm rise to point the converter at 
the TV, intending to change the channel. 

"Leave it!" she barked, surprised at the harshness of her 
voice.  

He froze, his arm returning to its place on his thigh, 
and shifted so that he was no longer slouching on the couch.

She remained standing, knees locking into position to still the 
sudden trembling of her legs, and her attention entirely on the 
news program that was winding down for the end of the hour.  
The female broadcaster...<what the hell was her name? >...was 
obviously reiterating a segment from earlier in the program, 
stating that the FBI was asking the public's help in regards to 
a criminal at large, wanted on a variety of charges.  The updated 
composite sketch of Elliot Andercott remained in one corner of 
the picture through the entire blurb, and as the broadcaster...
<damn it, why can't I remember her name? >...finished speaking, 
the picture enlarged to fill the screen, with a hotline number 
displayed at its bottom.

A few seconds later the sounds of the news stations theme music 
filled the room as the picture changed to that of the nameless 
female broadcaster and her male counterpart.  

Scully barely registered it as she felt her knees start to buckle, 
and managed to stagger forward a few steps and almost fall into 
the couch.  

Even though Skinner had told them about his intention to have 
Elliot Andercott's name and picture in the media, it was still a 
shock to see him there in full Technicolor. 

Beside her, Mulder aimed the remote at the TV again and turned 
it off, tossing the little black gadget onto the coffee table 
before turning sideways to look at her with concern.  "Scully?" 
he said softly.  "You okay?"  One hand reached out slowly, 
tentatively, and rested lightly on her thigh.

She flinched.  Lost in a sudden memory of waking up to Elliot's 
face looming before her, his hands touching her, that when Mulder
put his hand on her thigh, she equated it to being Elliot's hand, 
and reacted.  Wrongly.  

Even as Mulder was pulling his hand away, wounded, she 
reconnected with the present, with Mulder sitting next to her on 
her couch.  

Face crinkling in concern, she reached out to grab his hand in 
hers and clutch it tightly.  "Mulder, I didn't...it wasn't..." 
her words ended in a frustrated sigh.  She took a deep somewhat 
shaky breath and began again.  "I saw his face on the TV, and I 
was just there again."  There was no need to say where 'there' 
was; she knew Mulder would know what she meant.  "I woke up one 
time, he was kneeling beside the cot, and he was touching me."  
She squeezed his hand and brought it up to her lips, kissing his 
knuckles.  "I was remembering it just as you touched me.  I'm so 
sorry, Mulder.  I didn't mean to react like that."

Mulder's face had gone carefully blank as he pulled away from her, 
and when she spoke, she saw the life come back in his eyes, the 
features crinkle into a frown of concern.  At the words 'he was 
touching me', the frown deepened, and anger flared briefly in his 
hazel orbs, anger at the madman who had done this to her.  Then 
he was carefully pulling her into his arms.

She went willingly, wrapping her own arms around his waist, her 
head burying itself in his chest.  He shifted them both and she 
was sitting in his lap, her legs up on the couch cushion.  

Mulder began rocking her, his hand in her hair, cradling her head.  

She felt his lips brush her crown, and then heard him murmuring 
gently.  Soft, nonsense words meant to soothe and to comfort.  
And they did.  

The tension that had built in her body at seeing Elliot on the 
television slowly melted away.  The tears that had formed in her 
eyes as she relived a horrible memory, the tears she had refused 
to shed, had dried up.

Scully was not sure how long they remained that way, she on his 
lap being rocked in his arms, but finally she had to move.  There 
was an ache in her back, and her cheek where it was pressed against 
Mulder's chest was sweating lightly.  So she pulled free gently, 
and shifted to sit beside him.  

He arched his own back, twisting his head from side to side with a 
small groan.  She did the same, and heard her vertebrae pop and 
crack.  

Mulder mouthed the word 'ouch' at the sounds, and she winced 
slightly and nodded.  "My back is a little sore," she said 
unnecessarily.

He quirked an eyebrow at her and replied, "I gathered."  He 
paused, head tilting to the side, and then said, "Do you want 
a massage?"  

A massage sounded really good, and she opened her mouth to say 
yes, when he spoke again.  

"I have a better idea.  Why don't you take a nice, hot bubble 
bath, and then I'll give you a massage?"

That sounded even better, and she found herself nodding.  

Mulder bounced up from the couch and held out his hand.  She 
placed hers within it and he tugged her up gently.  Once she was 
standing he bent his head and brushed butterfly soft kisses 
over her forehead, her nose, both cheeks, and then a last one 
on her lips.  He stepped back, squeezed her hand, and began to 
walk to her bedroom.  She trailed along behind him, still reeling 
from the simplicity and gentleness of his kisses.

Mulder stopped them at the bathroom door, released her hand, and 
gave her a little push towards her bedroom.  "You go get into your 
robe.  I'll start the tub."

Scully nodded, and as he started to turn away, reached out to 
grab the hem of his tee shirt, halting him.  He turned with a 
quizzical look on his face, and she surged forward and up on her 
toes to kiss him hard on the lips.  "I love you, Mulder," she said, 
her hand fisted in the material of his shirt.

Mulder smiled, a devastatingly beautiful smile, and replied.  "I 
know."  He gently disentangled her hand from his tee shirt, placed 
his hands on her shoulders and spun her around to face her bedroom 
once more.  He patted her behind and said, "Get going."

Just as she stepped into her bedroom he called out, "I love you 
too, Scully."

She smiled and continued into her room.  A few seconds later she 
heard the crank of the taps, followed by the whoosh of the water 
as it began to fill her tub.  She disrobed slowly, letting her 
clothes fall to the floor, and padded naked to the end of her bed 
where her silk robe lay.  

It was cool to the touch as she slid her arms into the sleeves, and 
she shivered lightly when it touched her skin.  Belting it loosely, 
she went to retrieve the clothes from the floor, pausing to look at 
herself in her dresser mirror.  The replacement for the mirror 
another madman had cracked her skull against, shattering it to 
pieces.  

She shook her head slightly and closed her eyes.  She did not want 
to think about bad things.

Opening them again, she raised her chin a little and studied her 
reflection.  Her hair was mussed from lying against Mulder, the 
cheek that had been pressed to his chest redder than its twin, and 
her lips were devoid of lipstick.  Yet there was a softness to her 
eyes.  A softness put there by Mulder.  She remembered her earlier 
thoughts about his annoying habits, and felt a brief spurt of 
shame.  For along with those habits was his thoughtfulness and 
tenderness.  And his love.

She reached for the small crystal dish that held pins for her hair, 
and after twisting most of the red strands into a knot, carefully 
pinned it up.  Some stubborn locks resisted the pins, and framed 
her face.  With a shrug, she turned from the mirror and spied the 
clothes on the floor once more.  She scooped them up and deposited 
them in the hamper before making her way to the bathroom.  Upon 
entering, she saw that not only had Mulder poured her bubble bath, 
but he had also lit the candles that were still there from her bath
a few days ago, and gotten a huge, fluffy towel and laid it on the 
countertop for her.

He was leaning against that countertop, watching the water rise in 
the tub, but looked up when she entered.  She watched his eyes sweep 
from her pinned-up hair, pausing at her breasts, where her nipples 
puckered against the silk, and then down to her bare toes peeking 
out from the hem of her robe.  The robe had been a gift from her 
mother, and was actually just a little too long.  She liked it 
though, and from the glint in Mulder's eyes, knew he did too.

He said nothing though, and straightened from his slump against 
the cabinet. He made a sweeping gesture with one arm at the bathtub, 
bowing slightly at the waist, and said softly, "Your bath awaits, 
milady."

"Thank-you, kind sir," she replied, with a small, regal-like nod of 
her head.  She then ruined their medieval royal to servant play-
acting by grinning.

He grinned too, and walked past her to exit the bathroom.  Scully 
untied the sash of her robe and slipped it off, laying it on the 
counter beside the towel.  

She had not seen Mulder pause, but heard his voice say, "Would you 
like a glass of..." The question trailed off and then she heard 
Mulder's indrawn hiss of breath.  She turned only her head to see 
him poised in the doorway, staring at her silhouette.  She felt her 
nipples tighten again as his eyes dipped to her breasts once more, 
and could not help flicking her own eyes downward to the fly of 
his jeans.  To see an unmistakable bulge there.

She knew he had not intended to make any advances on her, that the 
tub was solely for her benefit and enjoyment, and that he had only 
stopped to ask her if she wanted something, a glass of wine perhaps. 
Yet it gave her no small pleasure to see how he had reacted to her 
nude body.  She turned so that she was facing him fully, and said 
throatily, "Would you like to join me in the bath, Mulder?"

The words were hardly out of her mouth, and his hands were already 
stripping his tee shirt over his head.  Scully chuckled as he 
hastily worked at the button and zipper of his jeans and yanked 
them off, dragging his briefs along with them.  

A glorious feeling of power swept through her as she witnessed 
the state to which she had driven him.  She felt like a seductress, 
a siren, and it was a wonderful feeling.  

He smiled, a little sheepishly, at her chuckle and said huskily, 
"See what you do to me?"

"I see," she answered.  Oh boy, do I see, she thought.  This time 
it was she who gestured at the tub.  "In this case I have to 
insist gentlemen first."

He walked over and climbed into the tub, muscles flexing, and her
mouth went dry.  Maybe it was more a mutual seduction, she thought, 
and once he was settled, grabbed onto the hand he held out for her 
and lifted one leg carefully over the rim of the tub and into the 
bubbles.  

It was hard to be graceful while maneuvering around Mulder's legs, 
but she managed to situate herself between them without incident, 
her back lying against his chest.  His knees poked out from the 
bubbles, framing her on either side, and she rested her hands on 
his thighs.

She had to wiggle a bit to get more comfortable, feeling herself 
sliding down too far.  Mulder's hands settled on her hips beneath 
the water and helped adjust her properly.  In the process he brought 
her more firmly into the vee of his legs, and she felt his penis 
nestled against her lower back, just above the swell of her behind.  
Mulder's only reaction was a slight wiggle, and then his hands left 
her hips to circle loosely at her waist, resting on her belly.

They both sighed, and Scully let her head drop so that it rested in 
the hollow between Mulder's jaw and shoulder.  Her eyes closed as 
she felt him rub his cheek against her head, and she sighed again.  

This was perfect.

***

7:30 pm

Mulder leaned his butt against the countertop and watched the 
bubbles continue to form as the water cascaded into the tub.  He 
had lit the candles he had brought to the bathroom days ago, and 
they were the only illumination in the room.  He liked the way 
their flames flickered and danced on the ceramic tiles of the 
walls and floor, and how they made the room seem warm and 
inviting.  He hoped it would be relaxing too, for Scully.

His thoughts ranged to the scene earlier in Scully's living room.  
The sight of Andercott had been a shock, to both of them, even 
with the pre-warning from Skinner, and his first instinct had 
been to protect Scully, to hide the evidence before she could 
see it.  

He hadn't been quite fast enough, and had been stunned by the 
grating texture of her command to leave the news report on.  Her 
pain had been obvious as well, but he had not been able to hide 
his own pain when she had recoiled from his touch.  Her words had 
helped to soothe his pain, and let him understand her reaction.

His Scully sense was on full alert, and he knew she was there 
before he heard a sound. He swiveled his head up and to the side 
to see her enter the bathroom.  At first glance he saw that she was 
clad in her silk robe, the one that dragged slightly along the 
floor as she walked.  The one that draped lovingly over every dip 
and curve of her body.  The one that made him wish he were that 
robe.

He let his eyes caress her entire body, starting at the top.  She 
had her hair twisted up in one of those sexy knots again, the name 
of it escaped him at the moment, with little tendrils framing her 
face, emphasizing her cheekbones, the angle of her chin, and her 
long, graceful neck.  In the dim light of the candles the faint 
scar he knew was there from the rope could not be seen, for which 
he was thankful.  

He continued on and the sight of her nipples poking through the 
silk caused a little twinge in his groin.  He wanted to brush the 
material aside and draw one into his mouth.  He did not move 
however, for this time was for her, and made his eyes move 
downward, to where her little toes, tipped in scarlet, could just 
be seen.  Felt that twinge in his groin again.

He kept his desire in check however, and straightening, gestured 
grandly at the bubble and water filled tub, adding what he hoped 
was a courtly little bow.  "Your bath awaits, milady," he intoned, 
glad to be her humble servant.

Scully replied in kind, saying quite regally, "Thank you, kind 
sir."  The little nod of her head was just as regal, despite the 
fact she was clad only in a silk robe.  She then grinned at him.

He was glad to see her playful, she had seemed kind of shell-
shocked while on the couch, adding to his worry, and let himself 
grin back at her as he headed out of the bathroom.  

An idea hit him, maybe she'd like a glass of wine or something, and 
he paused, turning back around as he asked, "Would you like a glass 
of..." He never finished the question as he saw her standing there 
nude, and sucked in a breath.  

She was exquisite.  

She was not facing him, was standing facing the tub, and the glow 
from the candles threw her outline in sharp relief.  His eyes 
caressed the slope of her shoulder, her taut nipples, the swell of 
her belly.  One leg was forward a little, hiding the triangle 
between her thighs, and the action called attention to the curve 
of her ass, which he admired next.  

He had never before wished for artistic talent, but at that moment 
he could have cried at his lack of the ability to sketch her in 
charcoal, or shape her in clay, as a lasting tribute to her beauty.

His body reacted of course.  Lungs expanding, pulse accelerating, 
other parts...swelling.

Scully turned then, to face him fully, and seduced him with her 
voice and her words.  "Would you like to join me in my bath, 
Mulder?" she asked.

Would he like to join her in her bath?  God he loved this woman.

He was stripped of his clothes in seconds, hearing Scully's soft 
laughter.  He smiled with some chagrin, and said, "See what you 
do to me?"

Moments later they were immersed in the bubbles, his back resting 
against the tub's wall, and Scully lying along his chest.  His 
knees were bent, due to the tight quarters, feeling the coolness 
of the air as compared to the heat of the water.  Scully's hands 
rested on his thighs, and he brought his to rest on her belly, 
clasped loosely together.  Their sighs were in unison, merely 
following the pattern of their lives together, and then Scully 
tucked her head in his neck.

His burgeoning arousal was forgotten, as Scully relaxed trustingly 
and comfortably against him. He felt his own muscles go slack, and 
he let his head loll back on the rim.

It could not last forever, unfortunately.  

The water grew chill, the bubbles dissipating.  With a bit of 
careful maneuvering, they were both out of the tub, and he was 
wrapping Scully in the big towel he had laid out for her.  He grabbed
another one, dried himself off quickly, and then twisted it around 
his hips so he could take over the task of blotting Scully dry.

She smiled self-consciously as he tugged her towel away, and blushed 
adorably as he knelt on the little oval rug she stood on.  He dried 
her feet carefully, and slowly made his way up her legs with the 
towel, catching each and every rivulet and drop of water on her 
smooth skin and patting it dry.  Her pelvic area and bottom were 
next, receiving the same attention, and then he had to stand to dry 
her front and back.  He pressed a little kiss on the back of her 
neck and then stepped back, saying softly, "All dry."

Scully was no longer blushing and smiled her thanks.  She turned to 
face the counter, and he watched as one slender arm reached out for 
her moisturizer.  He stepped forward again, pressing his front to 
her back and placed his hand over hers holding the lotion bottle.  

"Your massage," he whispered in her ear, and felt the shiver that 
ran through her body.

He took the bottle from her and left the bathroom, going directly to 
her bedroom.  Shedding his towel, he went to his drawer and pulled 
out a pair of silk boxers, in a dark green.  He slipped them on and 
moved over to the lamp on the night table, turning it down to its 
lowest setting.  When he turned around, Scully was there.  Her robe 
was on, but not belted.

Mulder's heart skipped a beat, but he held onto his composure and 
gestured at the bed.  After a moment of hesitation, Scully moved 
over to the bed, slid off her robe, draping it over the end, and 
then climbed onto it, lying on her stomach, head pillowed on her 
crossed arms.  

Mulder studied her for a moment, admiring her pale, alabaster skin, 
the slope of her back and the shapely curve of her ass, and 
although short, her well toned legs that ended in delicately 
arched feet.  He then took a fortifying breath and knelt beside 
her.  He didn't think he could hold on if he straddled her body.

He flicked the top of the moisturizer bottle open and squirted a 
generous amount in his hands.  The lotion was cool, so he rubbed it 
between his hands to warm it up before starting at her neck.  He 
worked at the tenseness still there despite their bath, using his 
thumbs to knead the muscles.  

Scully groaned slightly and dipped her head down further, offering 
her neck up for further exploration, to which he obliged.  From 
there he squeezed and smoothed and stroked, enjoying the feel and 
suppleness of her soft skin, all along her shoulders and upper 
arms.  He paused for more lotion, rubbing it between his hands 
again, and then started on her back.  

Her head had fallen to the side, resting on one bent arm, and he 
could see the fan of her lashes lying on her cheeks for her eyes 
were closed.  She was not sleeping though, because every once in 
a while she would sigh his name or the words 'right there'.  

Smiling, Mulder bent and pressed a quick kiss on the shoulder 
closest to him.  She hummed in response.

He smoothed down along her spine until he reached her lower back.  
His spot.  The spot where she had once been marked by a tattoo of 
an ouroboros.  He had never told her, but he had found the fact 
that Scully had gotten a tattoo quite intriguing, and just a little 
bit arousing.  

At the time, it had seemed so out of character, almost dangerous, 
for his straight-laced partner.  Now that he knew her, knew her 
innermost self, or at least he was fairly certain he did, it did 
not seem so dramatic.  Scully was a very passionate woman, with 
hidden depths just waiting to emerge, and had chosen to demonstrate 
them through a tattoo.  He mourned its loss only briefly, resolving 
to ask her another time why she had gotten it removed, and continued 
with his massage.

Soon his hands were stroking over her rear, and Scully shifted 
beneath him, gulping in a breath.  He was not unaffected either, for 
his pulse had slowly sped up as he had massaged her naked body, and 
he was once again hardening beneath the silk of his boxers.

Scully surprised him, rolling over onto her back in one swift 
movement, and his hands were now on her hipbones, thumbs just 
brushing the edges of the thatch of curls shielding her womanhood.  

He looked at her face, and saw the arousal shining in her eyes, her 
lips parted.

He rose off the bed and slowly shed his boxers, watching Scully 
watching him disrobe.  He placed a knee on the mattress and then 
lowered himself on top of her, balancing himself on his elbows.  

Her legs automatically spread to cradle him between them, and her 
chin jutted upwards, inviting his kiss.

Their lips met, wet and warm, Scully sighing his name into his 
mouth before darting her tongue inside to meet his.  Her hands 
circled him, stroking and rubbing his back before sliding down to 
caress his ass.

In moments he was entering her, and her legs were up and wrapping 
around his waist, her arms now pulling at him until his weight 
covered her completely.  Only then did she encircle his neck, the 
fingers of one hand toying with the hair at his nape.

They moved gently and easily together, and found their bliss, 
both crying out the other's name.

***

11:40 pm

Scully flopped onto her back yet again, but just like all the other 
attempts, changing positions did not help.  She was wide-awake, and 
hungry as hell.  Shooting a hopeful glance at Mulder to see if he 
too were awake, she saw that he was peacefully sawing Z's.  She 
studied him for a moment, tracing his features lovingly with her 
eyes, and had a flicker of memory.  Waking him from a sound sleep 
with her mouth on his cock.

With a sigh she decided to leave him be, pushing aside the 
temptation to accidentally awaken him with a not so gentle nudge of 
her foot.  She liked that he could sleep easily and deeply in her 
bed, and wanted to let him get as much as he could.  She smiled 
suddenly.  She also liked the thought of him being in her bed.

She slid from the blankets without disturbing them or him, and 
moved quietly to the end of the bed where her silk robe still lay.  
She would have preferred her terrycloth robe right now, for there 
was a slight chill to the air, and she wore only Mulder's tee shirt 
and a pair of panties, but could not find it in the dark.  She 
shrugged and slipped into the robe, tying the sash to keep it 
closed, and tiptoed from the bedroom.  

One last look at the bed to see Mulder sleeping undisturbed, and 
she pulled the door almost all the way closed.  She made her way 
to the kitchen, moving easily in the night-darkened apartment.  
Instead of turning on the big overhead light, she left it off; the 
partially opened curtains on the windows provided enough 
illumination to work by while preparing a snack.  Her brother Bill 
had always commented that she had eyes like a cat, for she had 
moved about in the dark during games of hide and seek with ease.  
That knack, for lack of a better word, had served her well on many 
an occasion while investigating with Mulder.

Perusing the contents of her fridge, curling her toes under at the 
cold that resulted from standing in front of it open like that, she 
could not decide what she should eat.  

Something healthy, her good side said.  

Chocolate, screamed her bad side.

Ooohhh, that sounded so good.  Did she have any chocolate?  Still 
staring unseeing into the fridge, she mentally catalogued the 
contents of her cupboards.  The only chocolate she could think of 
was a container of liquid Hershey's that she, on very rare 
occasions, or so she tried to convince herself, dribbled over 
vanilla ice cream.  Ice cream was out of the question, for she was 
already quite cold.  What else could she do with it?  She went back 
to studying the shelves of her fridge and spied the quart container 
of strawberries her mother had bought on Saturday.  

Healthy and chocolate.  Perfect.  Smiling, she reached in and 
grabbed the container, pulling it out.  As long as the strawberries 
were still okay, she was in business.  Bringing them to the counter, 
hearing the fridge bang shut behind her, she pulled the plastic wrap 
off, discarding it and the elastic band in the garbage can beneath 
the sink.  She lifted one of the berries out, and its tantalizing 
aroma filled her nose.  They seemed fine.

Scully found a plastic bowl and dumped the strawberries inside 
before going to the sink to rinse them thoroughly for several 
minutes.  She drained them, shaking all the excess water off, and 
returned the bowl to the counter to look for the Hershey's syrup.  
Once that was found, she set to cutting the green tops of the 
strawberries off, her mouth watering the whole time. 

Another smaller bowl, to pour some of the syrup in, and she was 
ready. Too hungry to even sit down, she chose a large strawberry and 
dipped it into the chocolate.  She held it over the bowl for a few 
seconds, to let it drip, and that's when hands slid around her waist 
and drew her back into a warm body.

Mulder's husky, sleep-filled voice whispered in her ear, 
"Strawberries and chocolate?  My next favorite thing after Scully 
fresh from the bathtub."

She had forgotten to mention sexy in that description.  Shivers ran 
down her spine, and she couldn't help squirming a little.

He chuckled, eliciting another shiver, and continued in that 
whispering tone, "Gonna share?" He then nuzzled her neck, licking 
the skin there briefly.

Two can play this game.

"Mmmmm..." she drawled, and wiggled her hips just slightly, letting
her bottom brush his groin.  "Maybe."

"I only get a maybe?" he asked.  This time he added a little pout 
to his words, and punctuated them with a thrust of his own hips.

"Depends on what you do for me," she replied, smiling to herself.  
She was still holding the piece of fruit, and the mingled scents 
of chocolate and strawberry were making her mouth water even more.  

Or maybe that was just from Mulder's body pressed so close to hers.

"Ooohhh, a challenge," he said, and spun her around.  Before she 
could even blink her eyes, he had bent and taken a large bite out 
of the chocolate covered strawberry in her hand.  He straightened, 
and grinned at her around the berry.

"Hey..." her protest died off as his lips descended to cover hers.  
Part of the berry poked into her open mouth, and she could not 
resist.  She bit down and chewed, and because she had not closed her 
eyes, could see that he was doing the same, his lips just 
millimeters from hers.

She swallowed and then murmured, "Cheater."  She licked her lips, 
pouted a little, and added, "You got all the chocolate."

"There's lots more where that came from," he said, leering at her.  
He reached past her, deliberately pressing his bare chest into her 
silk-clad one, and grabbed the bowl of strawberries.  Straightening 
again, he passed it to her and then grabbed the bowl of syrup.  She 
expected him to go to the table, and was surprised when he sank to 
the floor with his back to the cupboards, brushing her legs.  

When she did not move, merely staring down at him, he said simply, 
"Join me."

Bemused, she did as he requested.  She stepped over his sprawled, 
bare legs, for he wore only the silk boxers from earlier, and sat 
down across from him, her back to the fridge but not touching it, 
and put the bowl of strawberries down on the floor beside where the 
bowl of syrup now sat.

"Ever see '9 1/2 Weeks', Scully?" he asked.

***

Mulder watched her eyes widen and the pupils contract at his 
question, and saw the quick intake of breath raise her chest.  Her 
robe was gaping open at the front and he could also see that her 
nipples had hardened almost instantly, poking through the cotton 
of his tee shirt.  

He would take that as a yes, she had seen the movie.

He moved the bowls containing the strawberries and the syrup to 
the side, so they were no longer between them and scooted closer 
to her.  

She was sitting cross-legged, so he mimicked her position, letting 
his knees touch hers.  

"I think I'd rather do without the blindfold," he said 
conversationally, holding her eyes with his.  "I'd rather watch 
your eyes, because they are so beautiful, and so expressive."

Scully sucked in another breath, her mouth falling open, and then 
licked her lips.  Her voice was a little husky when she said, 
"Oh...um, thank you."

He smiled and then reached over to pick up a plump berry, bringing 
it to the syrup.  He dunked it in to just about his fingers, careful 
not to dip them in there as well, and swirled it through the 
chocolate until it was almost completely covered in the rich, dark 
substance.  He lifted it, and let the excess chocolate drip off, 
before cupping one hand beneath it and carrying the berry to her 
lips. 

She licked her lips again, in anticipation of the treat, and instead 
of sliding it between them, he rubbed the strawberry along them, 
coating them with the chocolate, and teasing her.  He let his free 
hand drop to her knee, feeling the silk beneath his hand and the 
warmth of her skin through it.  Some of the chocolate dripped off 
the berry and fell in little plops onto her cotton-covered breasts.

Mulder leaned forward, feeling the muscles of his thighs strain in 
that position, and licked the chocolate off her lips with slow 
strokes of his tongue.  

Scully sighed, and lifted her chin, inviting his kiss.  He obliged 
for a long moment before pulling back and sliding the strawberry 
between her still parted lips.  She bit down, making an "mmmmm" 
sound as she did so.  She chewed the ripe chocolate-coated fruit 
slowly, watching with heavy-lidded eyes as he popped the remainder 
of the berry into his own mouth. 

Sitting back down, his eyes dropped to where the chocolate had 
dripped onto her front.  "Looks like I made a bit of a mess," he 
commented, and Scully dipped her chin down to look at her chest as 
well.  "Maybe you should take it off," he suggested next.

Scully arched an eyebrow at him, to let him know he wasn't fooling 
her in the least, and he grinned in response.  "Maybe I should," she 
replied.  She then straightened, arching her back slightly, untied 
the sash of her robe and slipped it off before pulling the tee shirt 
over her head and flinging it aside.  She remained sitting up, back 
straight, chest thrust forward.

He had watched her every movement avidly, and now his eyes dropped 
to her breasts, emphasized by her position, to where her nipples 
stood out predominantly.  "Cold?" he queried softly.

"No," was the equally soft response.

He hadn't thought so, but had asked on the off chance that she 
were.  Sitting so close to the refrigerator with only a silk robe 
draped over her hips and thighs, it was a distinct possibility. 
"Good," he said silkily, and reached for another berry.  Same 
routine with the syrup, only this time instead of bringing the 
fruit to her lips, he gently circled one hard nipple, bathing it 
in chocolate.

Scully hissed in her next breath, back arching once more, and he 
followed the path of her thrusting chest with the berry up along 
her neck, leaving a faint trail of the syrup, to her lips.  

Just as he pushed the fruit into her waiting mouth, he swooped down 
and covered her lips once more.  They shared the berry this way, 
before he pulled back and licked his way down the same path, 
gathering up the sticky chocolate, to her waiting nipple, which he 
sucked into his mouth.

She moaned this time, and her hands came up to clench in his hair, 
holding her to him, encouraging him to continue his sucking, which 
he did, with enthusiasm.  

Finally he had to stop, his thighs quivering with the strain of 
holding himself that way, and released her nipple with an audible 
popping sound.  But before he sat back down again, he dropped a 
quick, hard kiss on her berry and chocolate stained lips.

Her hands left his hair as he pulled back, her fingers stroking 
over his cheeks and then his lips as he lowered himself back to the 
floor.  He studied her for a moment, admiring her flushed cheeks and 
shining eyes, before reaching for another strawberry.  After coating 
it in chocolate, he treated her other nipple to the same torment, 
wringing a gasp and a moan from Scully.  He followed up with another 
kiss and returned to his seated position.

While he was debating where to tease her with the next strawberry, 
Scully leaned forward and removed one from the bowl, saying huskily, 
"May I?"

He nodded, and watched avidly as she slowly swirled the berry 
through the chocolate and then leaned forward on one knee, the 
action causing her bare breasts to sway slightly, a motion he 
found absolutely fascinating.  

She hesitated briefly, some of the chocolate dripping onto the 
floor, and then ran the berry down his neck, past his Adam's apple, 
which bobbed in reaction, and through his chest hairs to one nipple, 
circling it before gliding it across to his other nipple.  

Both the berry and the chocolate were cool, and their touch on his 
bare heated skin made him shiver in reaction.  

She then traced the path back up his neck to his slightly parted 
lips, running the berry across them a few times before pushing 
insistently for entrance into his mouth.

He opened it, letting her push the berry inside, and unsure as to 
whether she was going to share it with him, he managed to reach out 
and grab her shoulders, pulling her face to his.  

She tilted her head just slightly, so their noses would not bump, 
and nibbled delicately at first his upper lip, avoiding the berry 
altogether, then his lower lip, and then finally nipping at the 
fruit.  When they had both swallowed their share of the strawberry, 
she leaned in further and kissed him deeply for several seconds.  

She then pulled back and licked the path of the chocolate, paying 
particular attention to his nipples, which were tight and hard with 
his excitement.  She retraced the same path back to his lips and 
slipped her tongue inside his mouth, where upon he sucked on it 
strongly.

His erection was tenting his boxers, and there was no way she could 
have missed seeing it.  Her next move showed she had not.  One of 
her hands on the cold tile of the floor supported her weight, and 
she let the other travel teasingly down his chest, circling his 
navel briefly before coming to rest on his silk-clad penis, 
squeezing gently.

Mulder moaned, and his penis twitched, his hips jerking upwards in 
reaction.  Scully moaned back and squeezed him again.  He moved his 
hands from her shoulders to her hips, and yanked her onto his lap, 
her legs automatically parting and curling around his hips, her robe 
covering their lower bodies like a silken sheet.  She wiggled in his 
lap, her silk panties-encased heat directly over his hard cock, and 
they both moaned again at the contact.  He thrust upwards and she 
retaliated by grinding herself against him.

It felt good, but the position was not quite right.  

Reluctantly, he lifted her off of him, seeing the surprise on her 
face, and the pout that followed, and after a quick kiss of apology, 
rose to his feet, tugging her up after him.  Her robe puddled to the 
floor, and she quickly kicked it away.  He stripped his boxers off, 
tossing them aside, and made short work of her panties, flinging 
them after his boxers.  Next, he pulled her tightly against his body,
mouth covering hers, and then maneuvered them both until her back 
was to the counter.  

She hummed her approval into his mouth, and then gasped when he 
lifted her in one swift easy motion onto the counter.  With his 
hands on her hips he slid her towards him until she was almost 
dangling off the edge, his body between her spread thighs.  One more 
push/pull effort, and he was sliding into her waiting body.

He buried his face in her neck and moaned "Scully," through gritted 
teeth, as the sensations swam through his body.  Hot. Wet. Tight.

Home.

She gasped his name in response, and he felt the brief sting of her 
nails on his back before her hands slid up his sweat-slicked skin to 
fist in his hair once more.

His thrusts were hard and almost uncontrolled, little grunts 
escaping his mouth with each one, but Scully met him with equal 
intensity.  He had teased them both into quite a fevered pitch with 
their food play, and could already feel her inner walls clenching 
around him.  

Her entire body tightened, her grip on his hair almost painful, and 
screamed his name as she came, her head arching back in wild abandon.

He followed seconds later, pumping furiously, groaning her name out 
in long, drawn-out syllables, his own head arching back, the tendons 
in his neck feeling like they would snap with the pressure.

Finally he sagged forward, burying his head in the crook of her neck 
once more, his shoulders slumping with exhaustion.  Scully's hair 
covered his head and tickled his ear as she rested against him with 
equal tiredness.  The only sound was of their ragged breathing.

His legs were trembling from the strain of leaning into the counter, 
half-supporting Scully's weight, and with a small groan, he let 
himself slip from her body and step back, carefully letting her down 
from her perch.  

She wobbled slightly when her feet hit the floor, and he hugged 
her to himself clumsily, her face pressing into his sweaty chest.  
She didn't seem to mind.  A moment later he heard a weak, "Wow."  
Felt the motions against his skin as she swallowed, and then she 
continued, "I'll never look at a strawberry the same way again."

Mulder's heart swelled with love, and the slightest tinge of lust, 
and he chuckled softly.  "Neither will I," he returned, and pressed
a kiss to the top of her head.  "Let's go back to bed," he added.  

Scully nodded, and lifted her head up, pulling out of his loose 
embrace.  She made a moue of distress and mumbled, "This mess..."

He glanced down at the chocolate mess drying and probably already 
hardened on the floor, and their scattered clothes.  "In the 
morning, Scully.  It'll keep."

She surprised him by nodding again, and saying, "'Kay."  With that, 
she grasped his hand and led him from the kitchen to her bedroom.  
She detoured into the bathroom, where he waited in the hallway for 
his turn, and then shuffled past him.

Once he joined her in bed, after slipping on another pair of boxers,
he curled around her and discovered she had stolen another one of 
his tee shirts.  He whispered, "Love you," and heard her quiet 
response.  

He remembered nothing after his head hit the pillow.

***

end Part 19 of 29