A Familiar Heart
Chapter Nineteen


There was something to be said for riding in a
limousine, Mulder thought, as he came up for air. 
The ride to the train station was cushiony and
warm - perfect for a little preview of the main
event, though he really couldn't get all that
comfortable because of his damned knee.  It
didn't stop him from taking advantage of her
willingness to neck a little, however.  The dark
interior and huge back seat gave him plenty of
room to stretch out, and it didn't take long
before she was laid out on him like a blanket. 
But the ride was definitely too short, as he
realized he could hear the whistle of the soon-
departing 10:30 train.  He sighed, looking down
at his beloved with regret.  "Scully, we're
almost there."

Scully's mouth still parted, she looked dazed and
slightly bruised, her lips a little swollen from
his kisses.  One off-the-shoulder strap of her
dress could now be considered 'off-the-elbow', and
a lacy bra enjoyed the caress of his hand, the
breast it cupped heaving with her panting.  She
looked as if she'd been thoroughly kissed, all
limp and wanton against him, drugged with
passion.  If he had the use of both legs, he'd
not disturb the picture, carrying her onto the
train to immediately take up where they were
being forced to leave off.  But he had to rouse
her enough to walk to the train, and damned if it
wasn't killing him to lose the dreamy, pliant
woman in his arms to the efficient, logical
nurse.  What he suspected would happen, did, and
he almost groaned as she slipped from his arms to
sit up.

Pulling up the strap of her dress, she said, "And
where is there?"

"Train station.  Got us a room on the 10:30 out. 
Last train until tomorrow night; we were lucky. 
Skinner pulled a few strings and got us on."  He
waited with bated breath for her reaction; yes,
she'd gotten in the limo with him, on Charlie's
half-ass detailing of Mulder's plan.  But he
didn't think she'd really been listening at the
time.  Pressed as she was to make a decision
before brother Bill hounded them both down, she'd
trusted instinct and fallen into his arms without
further thought.  But now, did she really realize
exactly what was going to happen?

"A train?  To where?"  Her fingers still shook a
bit as she patted down her hair.

He bit his lip and looked out the window; the
driver was turning into the station.  They'd be
there in moments, and she was backing out.  He
could see it in her darting gaze, one that didn't
quite settle on his face for any length of time.

"Does it matter?" He was tired of tiptoe-ing
around her.  As far as he was concerned, when
she'd gotten into the back seat with him a while
ago, she'd made her choice.  He shoved himself up
to a sitting position, turning back to say, "I
want you to myself, Scully."

"We could have... gone to the Belmont, like we'd
planned earlier," she ventured, still not looking
at him.  "You don't have to do anything special
for me, Mulder.  A room at the hotel would have
been fine."

The limousine came to a halt at the edge of the
platform, and the steam from the train's engine
enveloped the car.  Mulder grabbed the door
handle, though his grip was mostly to steady
himself against the way she'd rocked him with
that statement.  She thought him so hard up for
her that he'd take anything, anywhere he could
get?  Of course, he'd been doing nothing but
practically pawing her for several days now.

"Get out," he muttered, opening the door.  With
some difficulty, he got to his feet and held out
a hand.  Stunned, she stayed where she was, and
he said again, "Scully, please get out of the
car."

To his surprise, she did, taking his hand more to
help him than herself.  Swaying a bit in the bite
of the wind, Mulder leaned down and told the
driver to hold a moment before walking her a few
steps away.  Taking her hands, he looked down at
her with all the love he felt shining in his
eyes.  "Scully, are you related to any Mormons?"

"Mormons?" Confusion crinkled her forehead. 
"Mulder -"

"Just answer the question."

"Okay.  No, I'm not related to any Mormons.  Not
even distantly, to my knowledge."

"Good.  Because one of the stops of that train
there is Salt Lake City.  And as I see it, Utah
is probably the only place in this God damned
country where we won't run into a cousin of
yours.  Or an uncle, or a brother.  Now, are you
coming to Piedmont with me or not?"  His words
were edged with impatience, when all he wanted
was to coax her back into compliance.  This was
not the way he wanted to live this life-altering
moment.

"But my parents, and Charlie -"

"Charlie's got a wife of his own now, and your
parents have each other."  Frustration made him
release her and he limped back in an effort for
some calming distance.  "I want you to come with
me, Scully."  Did she not believe what he was
offering?  What he was pleading for?

"Mulder, Charlie wasn't serious about our
eloping," she chuckled.  "I know better than
that."

"All aboard!"

At the interruption, Mulder glanced over his
shoulder, then back to her, the ache in his heart
compounded by the sudden silence between them.


**********


Oh, God.  She'd said the wrong thing.  She could
see it in his face, the way it hardened to stone. 
The crowd around them, once fascinated by the
sight of the limousine, scurried to make the
train.

"You think I don't want to marry you?" His
question was incredulous.  "Scully, I told you
back at Melissa's that was all I wanted."

Ignoring the crowd around them, she shouted, "You
only said that because you thought I might be
pregnant!"

The few people on the platform perked up at her
declaration, and she found herself flushing, even
with the way she shivered in the cold.

"I don't care if you're pregnant," he said
through clenched teeth.  "I don't care if the
world ends tomorrow.  I don't care if your
brother shows up here and beats the hell out of
me."  Grimacing, he took off his hat and shifted
on his feet, trying to - what the hell was he
doing?

He collapsed at her feet and she rushed forward,
his name burst from her with concern.  "Mulder!" 
But he put up a hand and struggled to bend his
bad knee, which hit the platform amidst his grunt
of pain.

"Stay right there," he ordered, his hat clutched
to his chest.  He looked up, and suddenly, she
realized the pose, however painful to him, was
familiar.

"Oh, God," she breathed, her hands coming up to
hold in her rush of tears, her fingers pressed
against trembling lips.

"Scully, I can take you on that train as my
friend.  As my lover.  As the other half of me. 
But I'd much rather take you as my future wife." 
He smiled through the pain, with hope and so much
love it took her breath away.  "Now, I don't have
a ring, and I'm seriously giving some thought to
leaving the Navy, which means I'll be out of a
job.  And, while it looks like most of your
family likes me, *my* family isn't the best, so
you'd be walking into a mess, really -"

"Yes," she whispered, not wanting to shut him up,
but not wasting another moment for happiness. 
"Yes."

He stopped, his eyes wide.  "Yes?"

"Yes."

He opened his arms, and she walked into his
embrace.  His arms around her back were shaking,
and his voice was unsteady.  Head cradled against
her stomach, he muttered, "You didn't even let me
ask."

She pressed kisses to his soft hair.  "So ask. 
The answer's still the same."

"Okay, here goes."  He took a deep breath, one
that tickled the satin above her navel. 
"Scully?"

"Yes?"

"Will you... help me up, please?"

"Mulder!"  She tried to act offended, but it
didn't wash.  Her joy overwhelmed any pretense.

"I'll marry you if you do."

"You will?" she asked, nipping at his ear.

Mulder squirmed under her mouth, his hands
settling above her hips.  "Will I what?"

"Marry me."

Lifting his head, he grinned, his eyes wicked. 
"Thought you'd never ask, Scully."

Instead of answering him, she lowered her head,
intending to kiss him.  But the insistent train
whistle pierced the air around them, interrupting
Scully's intentions.  She looked up, and noticed
the platform was empty.

"Last call!" the conductor shouted, from his
perch at the entrance to the first car.

"Hold on!" she cried, then grabbed Mulder under
the arms.  "C'mon, Romeo.  We're missing the
train."

"Jesus," he hissed, ungainly and almost too heavy
for her to lift.

But she finally got him to his feet, and, with
one arm wrapped around her shoulders, helped him
forward.  "That was stupid, Mulder," she scolded
him, gasping under his weight.

He limped beside her, trying to keep his big body
from smothering her by putting more of his weight
on his injured leg.  "I had to show you I was
serious, didn't I?"

"You know what this means, don't you?" she asked,
relieved the trip to the train was a short one.

"If you think I'm not making love to you as soon
as we get in our room, you're mistaken, Scully."

"I'd like to see you try, sailor.  You've really
done it now with that stunt back there - I
wouldn't be surprised if we have to cut your
pants from your leg.  Your knee is liable to be
twice the size it was."

"Who needs knees?" he laughed.  When they reached
the car, the conductor held out a hand to help. 
Mulder took it, but lingered, leaning close to
whisper in her ear, "You look pretty fit to me,
Scully.  Wanna ride a pony?"  He winked, letting
the conductor pull him up.

Scully thought she couldn't blush any more than
she had already.  She was wrong.


**********


Mulder was feeling no pain.  Literally.  Scully
had insisted he take one of the pain pills in his
pocket before they went any further, and though
he knew before long he'd be down for the count,
he also knew they tended to make him more loopy
before sleep kicked in.  He was smiling like a
giddy fool, the rumble of the train beneath his
back massaging his aching body into a blissful,
relaxed mood.  His jacket and shoes gone, he laid
on the single bed, his hands behind his head,
watching Scully putter around the small room.

Earrings came off first, then the strand of
pearls.  She stood before the small mirror in the
tiny bathroom, the door open so he could watch
her clean up.

"You didn't happen to bring a hair brush, did you
Mulder?"

"Uh... no."  Who needed a hair brush?

"A toothbrush?"

"What's a toothbrush?"

She rolled her eyes, though she grinned, reaching
behind her for the hooks of her dress.  "We're
going to be pretty rank by the time we get to
Piedmont, Mulder."

"I didn't tell you?  This train is practically
non-stop.  Far as I know, we stop for fuel in
Kansas City.  We'll be in Salt Lake City by noon
tomorrow."  His mouth went slack at the way her
dress fell to the floor.  "Damn."  Her bra wasn't
just lace - it was a strapless scrap of lace that
left little to the imagination.  "I wanted to
practice on those hooks, you know."

"I know you did," she murmured, looking as if she
was thoroughly enjoying the control she had over
him.  "But I wanted to practice myself, you
know."

When she slipped off her shoes, her height
diminished by several inches.  She was a petite,
curvaceous bundle of pink skin and tousled red
hair that fell over warm blue eyes.  His mouth
suddenly felt like it was filled with cotton,
especially when she slowly divested herself of
panties and stockings.  The bra, which a moment
ago held such fascination, went the way of the
rest of her clothes, and she stood before him in
the lamplight, her smile wide but a bit bashful. 
He knew she was fighting the urge to cover
herself, but her courage won out.  Straightening
her shoulders, she moved toward him with pride,
her hands reaching for the hem of his t-shirt.

"How did you manage to get us on this train,
anyway?"

Her breasts swayed before him, and he lifted his
torso a bit, gulping at the lovely sight that
beckoned for the touch of his mouth.  Before he
could succumb to the urge, however, she pulled
the t-shirt up, trapping his head in a cotton
veil.  "Hey!"  Her hands left him, and he
struggled with the t-shirt, whipping it off as he
blew the hair from his eyes.  "Watch it, Scu -"
he began, only to sputter to a stop at the feel
of her fingers on his zipper.

He sucked in a ragged breath as he watched her
nimble fingers slowly pull the zipper down.

"Lift up," she whispered, and he didn't know how
he was able to make the connection in his brain,
but he did.  In seconds, she had both pants and
boxers off, tenderly pulling them over his bum
knee.

At her gasp, he followed her worried gaze down,
and was dismayed to find his knee had, indeed,
suffered a bit from his semi-traditional
proposal.  "Don't," he said, reaching for her. 
"It doesn't hurt, Scully."

"Of course not," she snapped, her eyes flashing
up to meet his.  "You have enough painkiller in
you to numb an elephant."

"Not quite," he murmured with a smile, his gaze
darting down once again.  It was her turn to
follow his lead, except this time, her eyes came
back up immediately, and she blushed, licking her
lips.  He wanted to nip at those same lips, to
tell her he was sorry for teasing her.  Despite
her bold moves of late, she was still very much
an innocent, and he'd better remember it. 
Grabbing for the sheet, he pulled it up to cover
his hips.  "Umm... sorry.  That's not something I
have too much control over, Scully."

In answer, she lifted the sheet and climbed in
beside him, pulling the soft linen over them both
as she cuddled into his side.  He gritted his
teeth at the contact, sensing her need to take
things slow from now on.  His arm clenched under
her cheek, and he bit back the urge to pull her
over him.

"I know," she said softly, her arm settling over
his chest.  She tugged at his dogtags, her
fingers playing with the cross that he'd taken
possession of.  "Mulder?"

If she wanted it back, she was out of luck.  He'd
buy her the biggest diamond in the state of Utah,
but she wasn't getting the gift he considered the
most precious thing he'd ever received.  Besides
her heart, of course.  "Yeah?"

"Umm... about the China Moon."

*That* floored him.  "What about it?"  And why
the hell did she bring it up now?

"There were lots of women there, right? 
Experienced women."

Now he knew what she was after.  Anger at her
self-imposed inadequacy made him haul her up, so
he could look in her eyes.  "Not a one of which I
slept with, Scully," he growled, "so get that
right out of your mind."

She smiled ruefully, shaking her head.  "Charlie
said you hadn't.  I should have believed him."

"You asked Charlie?"

"The subject just came up." She shrugged, and
dropped her gaze to his chest.  "I feel like I'm
so young, Mulder.  Yet I'm not.  I should have
lived through many things by the ripe old age of
twenty-seven, don't you think?  Instead, it feels
like I'm always trying to catch up - and I'm
failing miserably."

Tilting her chin up, he said, "You could never
fail in my eyes, Scully.  Besides, before you, it
had been close to six years since... uh, since
I..."  Great.  Her embarrassment had become his.

Her eyes went wide.  "What did you do?  I mean,
you had to have some..." She trailed off as well,
seemingly mesmerized by his ear all of a sudden.

"My right hand."

"What?" She was bright red now, and he suspected
it covered more than her face, as the flush
extended down the shadowy valley between her
breasts.

"Want me to show you?"

His sincere, sober question elicited the response
he was looking for, though he knew this play was
liable to cause him more pain than his knee. 
"Please do," she said with a small smile.  "Then
show me how."

Mulder groaned, closing his eyes with brief
regret.

"Mulder?"

Scully's touch on his face brought him around
again, and he moved her slightly to the side,
keeping one arm firm around her back as he
reached down with his other hand.  In the dim
light behind her head, he knew what he was doing
wasn't very clear to her, but he decided to leave
it up to her whether or not to pull back the
sheet.

At the first touch of his hand on his erection,
he stiffened slightly, trying to keep still. 
Knowing there was a softer, more feminine hand
just inches away sort of put a damper on an
activity that, before now, had been guaranteed to
get him off in moments.  Despite what she
thought, he was not a very experienced man. 
There had been a couple of sweethearts before the
war, and he'd had his share of intimacy with
them.  In Hong Kong, he'd always had to watch his
back, and giving in to the luxury of a warm
female wasn't wise.  He'd learned to fall back on
the reliability of self-gratification, and only
when his body seethed with frustration.

Now, he wanted *her*.  Her touch, her caress. 
But he was determined to give her anything she
wanted, and she obviously wanted this.  It was
new for them both; from the wide-eyed stare she
bestowed upon him, she'd never witnessed this,
and he'd never done this in front of a woman.

His hand, hidden by the sheet, began the slow
movement up and down his shaft.  He kept his gaze
on her face, watching the her fascination with
his play.  When her tongue darted out to lick her
lips, he imagined her mouth on him, and his teeth
grabbed his bottom lip to keep from crying out. 
He thought that he wouldn't be able to find any
enjoyment with his performance, but he'd been
dead wrong.  Just the sight of her amazement made
him speed up, and he felt like he would soon
explode with satisfaction.

"I knew..." she whispered, "I knew a man had a
way of satisfying himself... but I didn't know it
was so..."  She trailed off, watching his
movements under the sheet with an open-mouthed
stare.

"So...?" he prompted, fast losing himself to
approaching orgasm.

"So erotic," she finished, looking up at his
face.  Her hand came up to touch his cheek. 
"Mulder, you're beautiful.  May I?"

"Only if you feel like it," he said, his voice
hoarse with strain.  He was still not sure she
was offering because of curiosity; he didn't want
her to feel obligated to please him.

"I do."

The hand on his cheek slid down his chest and
abdomen, leaving little goosebumps of pleasure. 
When her fingers touched the wiry hair at his
groin, he let go of himself, and curled his
fingers around hers.  "Like this," he murmured,
touching his lips to her forehead as he guided
her hand to his straining flesh.

Her hand was much smaller and softer than his,
and he moaned against her hair, his arm pulling
her close to his side.  She required no further
instruction as she picked up where he left off,
her rhythm sure and steady.  "God, Scully," he
muttered, sure he was in heaven.  "That's it. 
Feels so good."

She was way too good at this, he thought.  Much
as he didn't want to make her stop, he had to
slow her down somehow.  His hand skimmed over her
breast, then down her belly.  She faltered with a
little gasp, but didn't stop stroking him,
asking, "Mulder?"

"You remember this, don't you, Scully?"  His
fingers dipped low, and he almost howled at the
moisture gathering between her thighs.  Her hips
squirmed against his intrusion, and the hand on
her back slid down to cup her behind and hold her
still.  "Shh... let me."

A soft, mewling sound came from deep in her
throat as he slipped one finger into her hot
depths.  Once again, her hand jerked around him,
and this time, she slowed her movements until
they matched his.  Her whole body seemed to turn
to water against his side, as she melted around
him, her legs entangling with his and her mouth
coming up to touch his.

He kissed her like a starving man, probing with
his tongue deep into the soft, moist hollow of
her cheeks, mimicking the act to come.  She
returned his fervor with some of her own, both
above and below, her hips now circling as she
practically rode his upper thigh.  God, she was
hot, he thought.  Hot and so eager he thought
he'd die from the sensations that poured over him
like the sweetest, stickiest honey.

"Mulder," she moaned against his mouth.  "I
need... I -"

He was loathe to break contact to tell her to
take what she wanted, his own body reacting to
her touch with little shivers of impending joy. 
Another second, he bargained with himself.  Just
one more second and I'll stop long enough to -

Making the decision for them both, she let go of
the kiss, her body shifting quickly to hover over
his, her legs falling to either side of his hips. 
He could only watch with dazed happiness as she
took command, instinct guiding her to use her
hand.  Eyes slitted, she caught her lower lip
between her teeth, and lowered herself on him.

Mulder felt the breath leave his lungs in a
silent cry of intense pleasure as he felt her
walls expand with his entry.  Head and neck
stiff, he forced himself to be still, as the
corner of her mouth lifted in a grimace she
couldn't quite suppress.  Then he was home, and
Scully, feeling it as well, leaned down to kiss
his mouth into relaxation.

"Okay," she murmured, her hands sliding up to his
face.  "I'm okay, Mulder."

He tried to smile, his own hands coming up to
caress her back.  "You're also a fast learner." 
She smiled in return, showering his face with
fleeting kisses.  They played for half a minute,
just getting used to the feel of one another as
the train rocked them gently.  It wasn't long,
however, before Mulder couldn't be still, and he
took her by the waist, pressing his fingertips
into her soft skin to get her attention.

"Scully, you're gonna have to move."

Dropping one last kiss to his brow, she said,
"Don't move that knee, Mulder."  Despite her
sexual innocence, she'd realized she had control
of the moment, and used it to give him the
warning, her eyes liquid, but firm.

His chuckle rumbled through them both, and he
slid just a fraction of an inch deeper into her,
which caused them both to purr.  "Scully, if you
don't move, I will."

With a laughing sigh, she straightened, her hands
falling to his chest.  A subtle, sinuous motion
began where they were joined, and one eyebrow
went up as she asked, "Like this?"

Mulder felt almost boneless, like he was flying. 
The motion of the train, combined with her
movement, lulled him into a foolish, grinning
idiocy.  "Yeah.  Told you it was like riding a
pony."

Her fingers plucked at his shoulders; she was a
slinky kitten above him, kneading her way to
ecstasy.  "I never had a pony like you, Mulder." 
She began to move faster, rocking on him with a
more determined goal in mind.  He heard her
breath catch, and his fingers spread out over her
backside to help matters along.

"Just call me Buttercup."

Her rocking became jerky and unfocused when she
laughed.  "Stop it.  I can't concentrate."

He shut up, knowing the time had come for less
talk and more action.  Sliding them both further
down on the small bed, he touched his feet to the
wall at the end.  Careful not to put pressure on
his injured leg, he planted the other foot flat
against the plaster, bending his knee as he let
the other foot slide off the side of the bed. 
When he began to push up in counterpoint to her
downstrokes, she gasped, her eyes flying open.

"Nice, huh?" he grinned, but she was no longer
listening.

Grinding against him now, she strove for
completion, her back arched and her head limp on
her shoulders.  He used one arm to prop himself
up on an elbow; her breasts were tantalizing as
they bounced above him and he could no longer
stand to keep still, taking one hard nipple in
his mouth.

She cried out, calling his name, speaking to God,
muttering curses and praises as she rode faster
and harder.  The smell of sex and sweat filled
his head, a potent mixture he knew had the power
to make him crazy.  Her body was beautiful, her
scent heady, her voice hoarse with use as she
drew him under her spell.

He was light-headed; from the painkillers or from
loving her, he didn't know.  All he knew was he
wouldn't last much longer.  Amidst her own
sounds, he made some of his own, urging her in a
raspy voice to come, to find what she was looking
for so he could join her.

And she did, finally bowing above him, her body
clenching around him with several powerful,
dragging pulls on his cock.  His balls reacted to
the pressure of her orgasm, drawing up; he felt a
spark at the base of his spine and he pulled his
mouth away from her skin to suck in a short,
gasping breath.  At last, he let go, letting her
milk him until he had nothing left to give.

Sated, he gathered her close, the roar of the
train second only to the furious beating of their
hearts.  When he'd finally gathered enough
strength to move, he reached up and flicked off
the lamp above his head, pulling the sheet up
over them once again.

She raised her head; by the light of the moon
streaming through the blinds, he caressed her
face and kissed her.

He felt married already.


End Chapter Nineteen