Julia
Chapter Twenty-four

Disclaimers, etc. in Headers


Washington, D.C.
February 10, 2001
10:18 p.m.


"I should shave," he murmured, lowering her to
the carpet.  "You go on."  He touched her cheek,
telling her with his soft gaze that he
understood her need for lingering under the hot
water.

Julia nodded and turned her back on him, still a
bit reserved.  They both knew exactly what was
going to happen in that shower. *She* knew there
wouldn't be an inch of her left untouched.  The
question was - was she ready for it?  She felt
like he'd already drained every ounce of feeling
from her body; what if, once free to speak, he
said nothing?

Mentally, she laughed at herself.  Since when
was Mulder at a loss for words?

As she slowly drew her jeans over her hips, she
heard the taps come on and the rustle of his
shirt leaving his torso.  She felt his attention
waver from his task;  could feel the dart of his
eyes travel down her back as it was reflected in
the mirror.  Her sweater fell away next and he
almost suppressed the sigh, but not quite.  She
hoped he wouldn't start in again about the
redness of her skin, and after a moment or two
of silence, she realized he wouldn't.  The
splash of his razor under the water, however,
was furious.

Breathing a bit slower, she released the clasp
of her bra.  When she pulled the confining
elastic from her breasts, his soft, "They missed
one," made her pause and turn, her hands
automatically coming up defensively.

What? her brow asked.  Clad in only her panties,
she felt so exposed, so raw.  Not only
physically but emotionally, her declaration of
love still hanging in the air between them. 
Suddenly, she wanted this over with.  More than
their frantic coupling hours ago; it seemed
fucking Mulder was a hell of a lot easier than
standing still under his probing gaze.

Face half covered with lather, he stood at her
side, his approach masked by the carpet and the
nervous clamoring in her brain.  Seeing her
reticence, he let a small smile curl his lips as
his wet hand touched the curve of her breast. 
His fingers startled her, though they were warm
against the fleshy skin below her armpit.

"Here. Missed one here," he explained, glancing
down to where his thumb caressed her skin.

Craning her neck, she raised her arm.  She could
feel his thumb slide then pause as it hit the
tiny bump in the smoothness.  A long ago trip to
the doctor as a teenager came to mind and she
said, <I had a mole removed when I was sixteen. 
It kept getting irritated by my bra.  Figured
you'd never seen that scar, so it stayed.>  It
was hidden in the hollow where her breast met
her armpit and with her arm lowered, was
invisible. <It was the only mark I had left that
was me.>

The darkening of his face spoke of residual
regret, but she was thankful that its appearance
was fleeting.  "*This* is you," he disagreed,
touching his index finger to her temple.  "The
best part.  The one I like the most."  At the
misty smile she gave him, he touched his lips to
her nose, leaving behind a soapy dot.  Swiping
at it with his finger, he said, "Get in.  I'll
be right there."

Now she realized the pause was deliberate; he'd
known the silence was making her panic and had
deflected her anxiety with a simple touch. 
Standing on tiptoe, she brushed her lips against
his cheek in thanks.

Her smile was returned and he said, "Hold that
thought," before winking and turning away to
finish shaving.

In moments, she was letting her head drop under
the warmth of the water.  It was heavenly and
she moved her neck to and fro as the spray
dissolved the stiffness just under the skin. 
Reaching for the soap, she began to pass it over
her skin, loving the fresh smell that wafted up
in the steam.  Though she really wouldn't have
minded walking around a while longer with Eau de
Mulder as her perfume, she thought with a smile.

Cool air rushed in as she let her eyes close,
her head drawn to his chest like it was a
favorite pillow.

"Care to let me in on the joke?"  Solid, heavy
arms snaked around her middle as his jaw settled
on the top of her wet hair.  His chest and
abdomen were hard at her back, fitting to her
like a glove.

That wasn't all that was hard, she realized with
a swallow, her smile fading.  Sudden, piercing
nervousness made her tremble in his arms, her
eyes wide.  Dropping her head, she closed both
hands around the soap, clinging to it for dear
life.  They hadn't been intimate hours ago -
that was just a means to an end.

*This* was intimacy.  Something she'd always
wanted with Mulder.  Something she'd always
feared.  There was nowhere to hide.

"Scully," he breathed, his lips sliding over the
cap of her hair to her ear.  "Scully."

Days ago, when he'd said her name in a drunken
moment, she'd trembled at the sound.  The two
syllables had wormed under her defenses; making
her weak and vulnerable to him.  This time, they
broke through the barricade around her heart and
she melted.

His hands closed around hers, taking the soap
from her boneless fingers.  Slowly, he began to
work it, his mouth still saying what she missed
most.

"Scully."

Mouth lax, she nodded, letting her eyelids fall
again.  He shifted, and she heard the thunk of
the soap hitting the holder on the wall.  She
held her breath, then released it with a shaky,
soundless moan as his hands touched her.

Soapy, warm, big.  Grasping her waist, then
sliding over her stomach.  Long, thin fingers
splayed over her heart.  "Are you ready to hear
what I have to say?"

Her hand moved to cover his, to join with his
over the rapid beating beneath her skin.

"I told the truth, you know."

His serious statement caught her breath. Anxiety
- *fear* - rose up within her.  Lay it on me,
Mulder.  I can take it.  You said it yourself -
I'm Scully.  Your partner.  Your friend... maybe
nothing more...

"In the bedroom, earlier.  While we were -"  His
other hand kept moving, kept touching as if
memorizing every curve.  "It was the truth."

Tears threatened as she realized he'd said a lot
of things in the bedroom earlier.  Uppermost in
her mind was the whispered vow of hate, spoken
with such vehemence she didn't doubt its
veracity.

"I hated that you could so easily bend me to
your will.  That you turned something so
beautiful into just another step in the plan."

Under their clasped hands, her chest heaved with
sadness.  He was right; had she so lost herself
to the plan that she'd become emotionless, even
in something so exquisite as making love with
the man she loved?  She'd told him she'd made
love to him as Scully, and she had - but Julia
had fucked him.  All for the success of the
plan.

"You may think you made love to me, but you
didn't.  I saw what I did to you, Scully."  He
sighed as his arm tightened in response to her
sudden tensing.  "And I'm so sorry."

She tried to turn, but he held fast, the words
continuing to spill from him.  "I'm sorry that I
hurt you.  Not just tonight... I'm sorry for the
way I've treated you, the way I've behaved
lately.  I've changed, Scully.  We *both* have -
and not just physically."

Every word resonated in the steamy confines of
the shower.  Giving up the fight for the moment,
she allowed him to keep her in the firm embrace,
knowing it was necessary.  Not for him, but for
her.  She knew it; most of all, *he* knew it. 
In this, they were blind.  Feeling, not seeing. 
Picking their way slowly through unfamiliar
emotional territory.

"I've said things..." Bitter regret choked his
voice down to a low murmur.  "Done things that,
no matter what the motivation, I will have to
live with the rest of my life.  I know you've
done the same.  And telling me that you love me
doesn't make everything right."

Of course it didn't... why had she thought it
would?  Did she expect instant happiness?  Did
she expect him to fall on his knees and declare
his undying love for her?  No.  Too little, too
late.  Their world had to come to an end for her
to realize that she should have told him long
ago.  Should have *listened* to him long ago.  

Her chin dropped and he followed, his lips slick
against the line of her jaw.

"It's gonna take me a while, Scully.  I can't
just forget everything that's happened.  And the
words, while heartfelt, would still be angry and
filled with hurt.  But I *can* tell you this..." 
His hand moved up, taking her chin with gentle
fingers.  She half-turned and looked up, meeting
the bright eyes framed by lashes dark with wet,
painful truth.  "At this moment, despite the
journey... I'm so very glad you're here with
me."

His sincere statement, delivered with a small
smile, caught her breath.  Her lips trembled
with the onslaught of happy tears and her arms
went around his neck as she hugged him tight. 
This was better than love; it was acceptance.

Mulder held her tenderly and she felt the rumble
of his chuckle under her cheek.  "Still doesn't
mean I forgive you for depriving me."

Her water-logged mind was weary from the
emotional overload and it took a second or two
for her to pull back and question, <Depriving
you?  Of what?>

His hands slid down her back, cupping her
buttocks to pull her closer.  "Of watching you
come.  Of feeling you love me."

His cock, semi-hard since he'd gotten into the
shower with her, now raged against her with
serious intent.  Dragging her lower lip between
her teeth, she looked down, taking him in hand. 
He felt like silk-covered steel, impossibly huge
and trapped in her slight fingers.  Letting her
hand slide up and down, she raised her eyes once
again.

Oh, yes, she told him with her gaze.

It was probably not going to be easy on her, but
she wanted it.  So badly she could taste it.

"That's not what I meant, Scully."  He pulled
her hand away and dropped to his knees before
she could reply.  With a gentle push, he settled
her back against the wall of the shower and
spread her legs.  "*This* is what I meant."

At the first touch of his tongue, she jumped.

"It's okay, it's okay," he said against her wet
curls.  "Let me."

Closing her eyes, she smiled at his erroneous
assumption.  It certainly didn't hurt - on the
contrary, it felt wonderful and her fingers
curled upon his shoulders, urging him on.  He
was timid in his exploration, his tongue barely
brushing her clit, his hands lying upon her
thighs as if afraid to damage her skin.

That wouldn't do, she decided.  She squirmed a
bit, inching her feet further apart, sliding
down the tiles to open herself to him.  She
could have cried when he got the message,
exhaling a moist blast of warmth in a soft
laugh.

Suddenly, his hands seemed to engulf her,
spreading liquid fire over every inch of her
skin.  The cool tile against her back worked in
counterpoint to the hot steam of the shower,
exacerbating the friction of his mouth in the
one place that had never seen scars, real or
imagined.  The stamp of his tongue tattooed
possession as she began to gulp for air.  It was
way too warm in the shower and she ached for the
heat to break.

"Scream, Scully," he muttered.  "I'll hear you. 
I want you to scream for me."

She clutched at the slick prickles of his hair,
her eyes drifting down to watch him work her. 
It was the most erotic sight she'd ever
witnessed; he worshiped her with his mouth and
hands, insinuating himself into her being with
bold urgency.  His brow was creased with
concentration and his eyes were shut tight as he
lapped at her heat.  In this, like all else, he
moved with single-minded purpose.

Wanting her to lose control, she knew.  It
wasn't difficult to do; she trembled under his
hands and mouth and her knees weakened with
every second that passed.  It was coming and she
was powerless to stop it.

Before, in the other world, she would have been
unwilling to surrender so completely.  A small,
distant part of her had always stood apart,
demanding composure within release.  It was her
nature to remain in command during sex, whether
by an action as overt as being on top or as
trivial as turning her head from a kiss.

This time, she let nothing stand in the way.

The first sharp tremor hit and her lower stomach
rippled under his nose.  Before her eyelids
slammed shut, she saw his teeth flash in a grin. 
At the feel of them nip at her clit, she was
gone.

Her fingers dug into his hair and her head shot
back, her mind just aware enough to stop its
crack into the tile.  A soundless cry erupted
from her lips as she felt Mulder's finger slide
in to replace his tongue.  He pushed in and up,
hitting the front of her vagina with gentle but
firm precision.  The contractions began in rapid
fire succession around his finger and her head
tossed in rhythmic time.

It seemed to last forever.  And not long enough. 
Finally, she slumped, reaching down to take his
hand.

"I take it back - *that* may just be my favorite
part of you."

Opening her eyes, she saw him through the haze
and knew he'd watched her come.  His awed stare
broke through her post-orgasmic bliss and her
legs no longer cooperated.  Almost boneless, she
straddled his lap, burrowing into him as a shock
wave of love consumed her - so intense it
threatened to eat her alive.

Mulder sat back on his heels and let her
snuggle, still whispering.  "Told you it was
going to happen.  You can only deprive me for so
long, you know."  Hands that just moments ago
made her sink into oblivion roamed up her back
to tangle in her hair.  His playful, satisfied
tone changed with a deeper, more serious query. 
"You okay?"  Always concerned, he gave a slight
tug on her hair to make her look at him.

Nodding, she smiled.  Well, it felt more like
the giddy grin of the thoroughly wasted on
margaritas, but she didn't care.  In fact, the
taste of herself on his lips beat the tang of
tequila by a mile.

"Mmm... Scully," he muttered as she showered him
with kisses, "my - my knees are - I need to get
up."

His groan broke through the fog of passion in
her brain and she quickly stood, shaking just a
bit.  Extending a hand with a smile, she helped
him to stand as well, silently laughing at his
overdone grimace.

But her laugh faded as she moved closer,
ignorant of the now-tepid water.  She wanted him
inside her and made her intentions clear,
running her hands down his chest in search of
her goal.

Mulder swallowed hard, his eyes darkening.  "We
can't... I don't want to hurt you again."

<You won't hurt me.>

"Scully."  It was a warning, but a rather weak
one.  She could tell he wanted it just as much
as she did.  The high cheekbones were flushed
with desire and he was oblivious to the cool
water that streamed over him.  Gooseflesh rose
on his arms and chest, but he made no move to
leave the shower.

Reaching up on tiptoe, she gave him one more
slow, deep kiss, then slowly turned her back to
him, moving to the far wall.  Leaning over, she
placed her hands on the tile and issued the
invitation with a lift of her hips.

Mulder's groan was far more painful than the one
of moments ago.  He hesitated for a few seconds
and she turned her head, pleading with a narrow
flash of her gaze.  Humiliation began to blossom
within her at his inaction; she'd never had to
beg anyone before.  One more moment of this and
she'd have to relent.

Defeat made her hang her head, her hands sliding
down... only to stop at the touch of his on her
hips.

"You tell me if I'm hurting you."  It was a
rough command, whispered in her ear and setting
her whole being on edge.

She nodded, thankful he'd come to her.  A
nagging part of her felt a twinge of fear, but
she quickly dismissed it.  This was not like
before - she was so ready it couldn't help but
be wonderful.  She held her breath as he spread
her legs with his.

Slowly, she felt his cock push its way inside. 
He paused, pulling back only to push a little
further in with each effort.

"Okay?"

God, it was more than okay.  He slid in and out
so easily, so warm and alive within her she felt
she may cry with pleasure.

"Scully?"

Dimly, she realized he needed an answer to
continue.  She brought one of her hands to his
head and turned her own, giving him a hot,
electric kiss, her tongue reaching in deep in
mimicry of his invasion.

Gasping, he pulled away.  "I take it that's a
'yes.'"

She grinned and leaned over again, this time
letting her upper body dip lower.  In reaction,
his cock pushed in completely as her backside
was forced against his hips.

"Jesus."  He folded over her, one arm going
around her waist, the other traveling up her arm
until his hand settled beside hers on the wall. 
"You sure know how to get what you want, don't
you?"  His mouth opened on her shoulder and his
chest filled with air, pressing down on her
back.  She felt his fingers glide over her wet
skin to her breast.

As he cupped the straining flesh in his palm,
his thumb caressed her nipple.  Her inner
muscles clenched in response to his touch and
surprise as another pang of impending pleasure
hit her made her squirm and gasp for breath. 
Memories of a time when she'd enjoyed a healthy
sex life told her exactly what could happen.  It
wasn't that she'd never had multiple orgasms. 
It was just that it was so long ago she'd almost
forgotten what it felt like.

"Scully, I don't think this is gonna last very
long if you keep doing that."

God, she hoped not.  Her legs spread wider and
Mulder went with them, his hips surging against
her.  "God, Scully."  The words branded her skin
as he began to move, his cock drawing out of her
only to plunge back in.

Over and over, in perfect counterpoint to the
circle of her hips, he moved within her.  She
leaned into him, focusing her slitted gaze on
the straining arm that paralleled hers.  Every
sensation, every nerve in her body pinpointed on
the feel of him, the smell of his heat as it
built around her.

Her name bled from his lips in a litany that
sparked the air.  Cooling water no longer made a
difference; she was overheated in a way that had
nothing to do with artificial means. Again, she
was going to come again.  And she knew he could
feel it as she did, as he shifted a bit down and
forward in his thrusts, learning quickly the
exact spot assured to ignite her orgasm.

OhGodohGodMulder... her lips beat out a
soundless, joyous plea in time with the shove of
his hips.  Through fevered eyes, she watched the
hand next to hers on the tile wall inch closer.

"Again, Scully."  The rasp curled into her ear
as his hand grasped hers.  Together, palm to
palm, fitting perfectly into an unbreakable
fist.  "Come on.  Again."

Her nails dug into the back of his bruised skin
unconsciously and he hissed a bit, breaking
through the growing sexual fog.  She tried to
loosen her grasp, but he didn't allow freedom,
saying, "Okay, it's okay.  Don't stop."

But she knew the strain on him was tremendous
and he wanted to make this last as long as
possible for her.  Their first time had been too
hurried, too *harried* for any lingering.  Just
a bit longer, that's all she needed.  She spied
the foot-high narrow ledge at the base of the
shower and made a decision designed to bring
their coupling to a quick, satisfying end.

Bringing her foot up, she used it for leverage,
scissoring her legs as she straightened.  Mulder
cursed, but stayed within her, following her to
the wall.  "Shit, Scully.  Warn me next time."

She brought their clasped hands to her chest,
enfolding his arm in a warm embrace, soothing
his hand with her lips and tongue.  Bending her
knees just a bit, she felt Mulder's cock begin
to expand within her.  The warmth of him at her
back and the coolness of the tile in front of
her worked in opposite fashion and she jerked,
her body assaulted by an overload of sensation.

Not as powerful as before, but just as
completing, she came in a series of gentle
waves, Mulder following with a muttered, "Yes,"
in her ear as he pulsed within her.

They slumped together into the wall.  Julia felt
him slip from her after a few moments, his legs
trembling in the aftermath against hers.  He
shifted so his back was to the tile, taking her
with him and spooning her to him.

He was exhausted; she could feel it in the way
his body draped over hers, his muscles twitching
with overexertion.  Allowing a moment or two for
regroup, she let him catch his breath behind
her, his ragged draw of air swaying her in his
embrace.  He said nothing and she knew his mind
was just as taxed as his body.

But the water was now too cool to remain in the
shower any longer.  Amidst his sigh of regret,
she pulled away and killed the spray of water. 
Quickly, she drew him from the wall and stood
him on the carpet.  He watched her every move
with slumberous eyes as she toweled herself dry,
then wiped the beaded water from his shivering
skin.

Pausing only to douse the lights, she put him in
the bed and got in beside him, snuggling close
under the covers.  Her head laid close next to
his on the pillow; the light trickling in from
the sheer curtains was enough and her gaze was
drawn to the magnetic pull of his lazy, but
bright eyes.

Still, he said nothing, just looked upon her
with a soft, unsure gaze, as if she would fly
away if he closed his eyes.  The insecurity on
his face made her ache and she kissed him, a
light touch of her lips to his.  He didn't
respond, just accepted it as his shivers died
away.  But his hand still grasped hers like a
lifeline.

Sleep, she told him with her gentle touch,
letting her warm breath graze his cheek and
throat.  Closing the already small gap between
them, she sandwiched his hand between both of
hers, enveloping their clasp in the nestling
warmth of her chest to his.  As she settled in,
a broad yawn tickled her ear.

But nothing.  Not a word.

There was nothing to be said, she realized. 
Words could not express the contentment of the
moment.  They were together; it was all that
mattered.

Her body relaxed as she watched his eyes drift
shut.  Stealing a quick kiss to his chin, she
let her eyes close as well.  The heat kicked on
in the bedroom, lulling her into an almost doze.

Within her hand, his bruised fingers began to
move.  Senses dulled by impending sleep, she
loosed her grip, feeling the brush of knuckles
tickle her palm.  Her eyes drifted open, but
Mulder was asleep.  A soft snore came from his
open mouth and his eyes moved beneath his lids
as he drifted into dreams.

Her breath caught as her mind grasped his
unconscious words.  Over and over, he told her
what was in his heart.  A small smile curled her
lips and her tears wet the pillow as she looked
down, cradling his hand like the most fragile of
flowers.

She thought it didn't matter.  Thought that she
could live without it, as long as he was safe. 
That the words were an afterthought, especially
since he'd denied them life to shelter her from
hurt.

<Love you, Scully.  Love you.>

She was wrong.  Happiness made her bring his
hand to her mouth, where she touched her lips to
the truth.



End Chapter Twenty-four