TITLE: Almost Home (12/?)
AUTHOR: Shoshana
EMAIL ADDRESS: [email protected]
DISTRIBUTION STATEMENT: Gossamer, Spookys site, Xemplary,
etc.
SPOILER WARNING: Seventh season episodes through Requiem.
RATING: NC-17 (Most of the story is rated R, NC-17 parts will be
clearly marked)
CONTENT STATEMENT: MSR
CLASSIFICATION: SRA
KEYWORDS: Mulder/Scully Romance
SUMMARY: Post ep for Requiem. Mulder comes back... but he's
missing something.
DISCLAIMER: These characters do not belong to me.
NOTE: Thanks to my great beta readers Keleka, Lisa, Sallie and
Teresa.

Almost Home (12/?)
By Shoshana

This chapter is rated NC-17.

February 22nd, 2001
Thursday
9:00 p.m.
The Mulder Summer Home, Quonochontaug, Rhode Island

"This usually works better without any clothes on, Mulder."

She was standing between his legs, his face buried against her
tummy. He was sitting on the bed, still wearing his sweatshirt and
pants. His hands roamed from her lower back to her rear and back
again, as he kissed her stomach through the material of her robe.

"Like to look at you. Like to feel you like this," he mumbled into
the fabric.

"Don't you want more?" she teased. "We've already seen each other
in the altogether last night, but you don't seem too eager to get
undressed now."

He looked up at her with adoring eyes, filled with love and lust and
a plea for understanding. He grinned and put one hand on each of her
hips, tilting his head back slightly as he spoke, "I want to remember
all of this, Scully. I want to have these memories to replace the
ones stolen from me." His eyes were liquid with unshed tears and his
hands gripped tightly at her robe.

Before they'd retreated to the bedroom she'd had some idea how much
he was relishing this time alone, uninterrupted, luxurious time
alone. She loved it too. There were no trilling cell phones, very
little traffic noise, no sounds from apartment neighbors next door.
Just the two of them, relaxed and happy with one another after a big
meal.

His desire to recreate past memories, to literally re-enact the
sparks which flew between them their first night of lovemaking--
touched her deeply. She caught his face in her hands and gently
pressed her lips to his forehead. Tears threatened her own eyes, but
she staved them off.

She wouldn't cry on such a happy occasion. They could make love for
the first time all over again. She recollected the sweet and gentle
passion between them last April, and she wanted to share it with him
once more.

She wanted to lose herself in the moment, pretend it was her first
time also. It would be for him--not physically of course, they had
the baby to remind them of that little fact. But he had no
recollection of how beautiful that first night had been for the two
of them. She wanted him to regain that beauty.

She bent down to capture his lips with her own briefly, then pulled
his head back against her torso.

"They're good memories to have, Mulder. They're the ones I clung to
all the days you were taken from me. I don't think either of us was
quite ready for the feelings unleashed that night."

"What do you mean?" he asked, sounding worried.

"Oh, don't worry--everything was fine, Mulder. Making love to you
for the first time was wonderful. We fit together perfectly and I
knew we'd changed everything in just the space of an hour."

She rubbed her fingers into his shoulders in a gentle circular
motion, relaxing him against her.

"So--" He urged her to continue, sweeping his hands across the
small of her back in movements similar to her own.

"Well... I started crying and you were so concerned, so afraid you'd
done something wrong," she told him, pulling him off her tummy so she
could look him in the eyes.

"Like hurt you?" he asked cautiously, as his gaze met hers.

"No, that wasn't it. You knew I'd enjoyed myself as much as you
had. You were anxious I'd changed my mind, was instantly regretting
the choice I'd made by coming to your bed that night."

His face was lost in thought for a few seconds as he considered why
she'd cried. There could only be one other option. He hoped there
was only one other reason she would weep openly for him.

"They were tears of joy?" he whispered, leaning his head back
slightly to catch her eyes. His hands continued to stroke her hips
and thighs. He couldn't stop touching her; it felt so good to do so.

"Yes, they were. And it took me ten minutes to convince you of
that. You started crying yourself, apologizing for letting things go
too far. For even thinking you deserved me. Which is ridiculous by
the way, Mulder! You deserve to be loved and don't you forget it,"
she asserted, stroking her hands through his hair.

He caught one of her hands with his own and pressed it to his lips.
He kissed every one of her fingers, then entwined their fingers
together.

"I love you," he said softly.

"Oh, Mulder. You don't have to say that." Rosy highlights spread
across her face as she became flustered, language failing her. "I
mean, I know you did. And I hope you want to someday. But it's not
necessary for you to commit yourself right now."

"Why not?" he asked. He was perplexed by her attitude, particularly
after she'd accepted the ring so readily. He'd considered it a
symbol, a promise they would marry.

"I don't think it's fair to demand that of you. You are here
because of the baby we share. If I weren't pregnant--we might not
be here, like this. It brought us together right away. I don't
think I would have told you everything about our relationship Monday
night. I think I would have let you discover it in your diary and
come to me if you wanted to. I didn't want to trap you if you
couldn't remember us--"

"Scully! Don't even think that! Baby or no baby, I would have
known we were supposed to be together! You were sleeping in my bed,
for God's sake! I think that's a real big clue right there," he
asserted.

She averted her eyes to the side, biting her bottom lip with her
teeth. He was so sure, so tuned into the bond between them. He'd
always been so intuitive in their work, acting on his instinctive
reactions to people, places and things.

She was a bit embarrassed for doubting his ability to size up
things. If she hadn't been six months with child he would still have
discerned the cohesion between them. The joy in her eyes had been
unmistakable Monday night, mixed with fear of the unknown, but
unmistakable nonetheless.

He was still a profiler, through and through. He would have picked
up on any false note in her body language, her tone of voice,
immediately. If she hadn't told him they were involved with one
another, he would have sensed the omission, followed up on it with
interrogation worthy of one of their cases. He was relentless in
pursuit of the truth in any situation.

He pulled her face back around gently, placing his thumb and
forefinger on her chin. "I would have known, Scully. I would have
known and I would have been happy about it. I'm not here, holding
you, loving you, just because you're pregnant. Please give me more
credit than that."

She flashed him a small smile and then gazed down at her feet. "I
do. I know you and I know what your mind is capable of. You're
always able to follow your first impressions, to use them somehow.
Sorry I doubted you."

Her voice fell off at the end, a little abashed at her lack of
confidence in his motives. He was the most honorable man she knew.
He would never follow through this far if he didn't intend to stay
with her, raise their child with her. He might have been attracted
to her if she weren't having a baby with him, but he sure as hell
wouldn't be intending to make love to her tonight if he didn't
cherish her. He simply wouldn't do such a callous thing. He meant
it when he'd told her he loved her and she better get used to it.

He closed his eyes, mildly frustrated at the course the conversation
had taken. He patted the bed beside himself and told her, "Sit down,
Scully. You need to rest."

She lifted her eyes just as he was reopening his, making sure she
was moving to his side. She smiled, more bravely this time, then
walked to the other side of the bed. She easily bounded onto the
old-fashioned frame and positioned herself in front of the pillows
spilling across the headboard.

"That's more like it," he said, moving next to her and winding his
long arm around her shoulder. "I want you to be comfortable."

"I am," she averred, leaning her face up toward him.

"We have all the time in the world, Scully. It's just us here.
Nobody keeping track of our whereabouts, trying to reach us by phone,
making us trudge out to a crime scene at two in the morning. I know
that had to be hard on a relationship. It was probably responsible
for keeping me single so long." He grinned at her slyly. "Other
than the fact I hadn't met the right woman yet."

She chuckled softly, then fluttered her lashes coyly. "Oh, and who
is she, Agent Mulder?"

He gave her that enigmatic smile again, the one which made him look
like a cat who just ate a canary. It was the same one she'd seen
last year, right after she'd urged him to tell her what his final
wish had been in the genie case. He'd never told her either. He'd
just settled back against the couch cushions and looked at her with
that self-satisfied grin.

He leaned in close and whispered against her lips, "Wouldn't you
like to know?"

His hot breath made her tingle all over. She wanted to make
passionate love to him, but she was enjoying these preliminaries too
much to rush him. If he'd wanted to play strip poker and undress her
one item at a time she would have thought it a fine idea. She hadn't
had this much fun with anyone for months. Only he could provide this
unique brand of entertainment, seduction by intellectual tete-a-tete.
And the physical wasn't too shabby either, she mused, welcoming his
lips to her own.

They generated some heat between them, seriously raising both
Scully's internal and external temperature. She gently separated her
lips from his, then started to struggle with her robe.

"Hey, let me help you," he insisted. She smiled as he facilitated
the removal of the garment. "Trying to steal my thunder, Scully?"

"Huh?"

"Last night was your turn to lead me astray. My turn now," he
declared, placing a soft kiss on her cheek.

She pursed her lips, both flattered and amused by his attentions.
This was no time for a snappy comeback. She was genuinely touched by
his attempt to recreate their first night together.

"Shut your eyes, Scully," he crooned, nudging her back to her nest
of pillows.

She obliged, relaxing against the velvet texture of the well-worn
linens. The furnishings at the summer home were all vintage, but
tasteful, seventies style. She imagined these sheets and pillowcases
were original to the home since the Mulder family only had spent a
few months a year there.

He positioned himself carefully, one knee to each side of her
thighs. He didn't want to exert any pressure on her belly while he
massaged her temples, speaking to her softly, "That's it, just lie
back and unwind, Scully. I don't want you to think about anything
except what you're feeling right now. Just listen to me and keep
your eyes closed."

She sighed happily, her back muscles loosening up in this restful
pose. His fingers soothed every inch of her face, as he whispered to
her, "You're so beautiful, Scully. Your skin is so soft, so smooth.
I love to touch you... I love to kiss you."

Scully blushed at the compliment. She never saw herself the way he
was describing her. She always saw the little imperfections, her
freckles, the mole above her lip.

As if he knew what she was thinking, he touched the beauty mark
affectionately, then brushed his knuckles against the sensitive skin
beneath her jaw. His hands moved to her shoulder blades, kneading
out tension she'd held for far too many months.

He continued to speak softly, "You're so beautiful pregnant. You're
just as beautiful as you always were. I took a peek at my secret
photo collection, Scully. You probably know which one I'm talking
about, since you must have rifled through my desk sometime."

She responded with a muffled little sound, expressing agreement and
resignation. She'd hated going through all his things without his
permission, but it had to be done at the time. She was finding it
difficult to keep her eyes closed, but didn't want to disappoint
Mulder by opening them too soon.

"Were you surprised I kept every clipping of you through the years?
I'm glad I did, because I'm not much for taking Kodak moments, you
know that. I don't even know how to use all the bells and whistles
on my camera. I just know you're camera shy, right?" he asked,
not really expecting a response.

She nodded her head slowly. He couldn't tell whether or not she was
answering his first question or his last. It really didn't matter,
she was finally in the lax state he wanted her in before he removed
her clothes.

Mulder wanted to know what she liked sexually, but didn't want her
to exert herself in any way, including trying to make conversation
about such things. He had a hunch she enjoyed foreplay as much as
he did so he was going to go with his sixth sense and undress her
very slowly.

He sat back on his heels and started to unbutton her pajamas,
stumbling over the small mother-of-pearl buttons. Scully tensed for
half a second, then melted back against the cushions behind her. She
voiced her acquiescence with a diminutive, delighted sigh, intended
to encourage his efforts.

"Guess these buttons are made for smaller hands," he thought out
loud, struggling with the last one triumphantly.

Scully reached out blindly and caught his hand, "Your hands are
fine, Mulder. They're just the way I like them."

She half-opened one eye, catching the pleased expression on his face.

"No cheating, Scully. You're peeking!" he admonished mildly.

She closed her eye and responded playfully, "Keep going, G-man.
You're just getting to the good part."

Mulder chuckled and scooted down the bed a little, changing position
so he could do just that. He'd been too tired last night to pay
enough attention to her breasts. And this morning they'd been in a
hurry to get dressed and out of town.

He liked making love in the morning, but Scully was already in the
bathroom by the time he woke up. He wasn't sure, but he thought she
might have been avoiding his scrutiny in the harsh light of day.
Candlelight would have seemed much more flattering to her. They'd
bathed by it and fallen asleep by it. He'd been willing to wait
until tonight, confident some of her natural shyness would diminish.

There were no candles in the bedroom they were in, but the dim
incandescent lighting was low and she didn't seem to care how much of
her he saw. He glanced up at her face, checking to see whether she
still had her eyes closed. She did, and for some reason it
emboldened him to lean down and nuzzle her top away from her breasts
with his face.

She gasped a little when his nose made contact with one nipple, then
the other. She was so sensitive from the pregnancy, so aroused by
him near her, that the slightest touch excited her.

He kissed her tenderly between her breasts, then brushed his cheek
against her right nipple. He rubbed the other side of his face
against her, then took her in his mouth, gently suckling on the
sensitive flesh. She sighed pleasurably, reaching blindly for his
head so she could run her fingers through his hair.

He shifted around on his knees slightly, carefully balancing his
hands on either side of her torso. His clothes were becoming
uncomfortable, but he wanted to minister to her left side first. He
kissed and suckled her, eliciting the same wonderful sounds again.

He pulled away from her, already missing her hands caressing his
face and hair. He wanted to start talking to her again. She seemed
to like that as much as he did.

"Your breasts are so beautiful, Scully. I've wanted to taste them
again and again since I first saw them."

While he spoke, he pulled her forward and helped her out of her top,
throwing it to one side. She laid back down with his help and he
kissed each breast once more, giving full attention to the whole area
around each sensitive nipple.

"I'm going to take my clothes off, Scully. It's getting awful warm
in here," he said lightly. He quickly divested himself of his
clothes, including his boxers.

She laughed aloud and asked, "When do I get to open my eyes?"

"Not yet. Hold on a few. But I'm not going to ask you to keep your
pants on," he teased, pulling at the waistband of her pajamas.

She lifted her hips so he could strip them off easily. The giggle
she'd been trying to suppress erupted finally, and her eyes flew open
involuntarily.

"Oh my," she said, eyeing his significant hard-on.

"Scully! No fair peeking!" Mulder couldn't resist laughing at the
expression on her face, falling next to her on the bed in stitches.

Scully was laughing so hard she felt like Mulder's happy little
Buddha underneath his fish tank. She tried to contain her hysteria,
but found it difficult to do so every time she looked over at Mulder.

Finally, they both regained control, or some semblance thereof.
Mulder was still chuckling to himself, but he'd turned on his side
and was facing Scully, admiring her body in the low light. She was
lying on her back among her pillows, chortling ever so often.

"Mulder... not laughing at you. Not really. Oh, God, maybe I am."

"Sure sounds like it."

She lifted her head and held out her hand, beckoning him to her
side. "Come here, you impossible man," she demanded.

He sidled over next to her, then gently helped her turn on her side
so they were face to face. Her hands reached out for his face,
pulling him in for a long deep kiss. He moved as close as he could
to her, reaching down between her legs and encountering wetness
there.

He nipped and tickled her breasts, arousing her even more. Her
hands were everywhere she could possibly reach, around his neck, his
shoulders, enmeshed in his silky hair. She wanted him even closer
and she couldn't wait much longer.

"Mulder. Please."

He stopped kissing her neck long enough to lock eyes with her. "Is
this a good position, Scully? Side by side?" he asked earnestly.

Love and desire were apparent in her eyes as she gazed back at him.
Their height difference was so extreme. She hadn't thought about
this ahead of time. But there was always a better way, especially if
she wanted to see his face when he came.

"Um, lie on your back, Mulder," she instructed.

He fell onto his back and Scully took the initiative, climbing on
top of him. She was thankful for all the exercises she'd kept doing
these past months. She brushed her sex against him sensually, hands
supported by his chest. He held her loosely by the hips, fingers
splayed wide, stroking her from waist to shoulders and down again
with a tenderness she'd only known from Mulder.

She shifted slightly so he could slip inside her, pausing to take
hold of both his hands with her own. Their fingers entwined,
gripping tightly as he filled her completely. She was hot and wet
and she curled her legs around his hips, encouraging him to move.

"You can't hurt the baby. Don't worry," she said breathlessly.

This was pure bliss for her. She'd missed him so much, and here he
was beneath her, rocking gently to meet the rhythm of her movements.
He was still being so careful with her, moving so cautiously inside
her.

"I know, Scully," he managed to say, his eyes gleaming with arousal.
"I'm going slow for you. I want to see you come."

"Oh, you will, I can guarantee that."

Scully disentwined their hands, moving her fingers to balance
against the dark hair of his chest. She increased the speed of her
thrusts, challenging him to meet them. He did so, a look of
astonishment in his eyes.

Scully had to remind herself this was essentially Mulder's first
time inside her. He couldn't remember last year, all the times
they'd been together between April and September. She'd all but
forgotten amnesia, spaceships and dizzy spells while they made love
to one another in this room. She closed her eyes involuntarily,
euphoria overwhelming her, and sweeping her away as she came.

Mulder watched in awe, and felt her inner walls clutch around him
tightly, setting off his own orgasm. This felt like nothing he'd
ever felt before. He'd never held so much love for one woman. Maybe
he thought he had, but he'd been sorely mistaken. This was his
beloved; Scully was the one he'd always needed.

Scully couldn't really collapse across his chest like she used to do
so many months ago. So she slid off of him, and into his welcoming
arms. He pulled her close to his side so he could lean down and kiss
her sweetly. He hadn't said anything the last few minutes while
they'd made love, hadn't even called out her name.

He made up for it now, a stream of lovely words and gentle kisses
flowing over her. Neither of them had ever been too vocal during
sex. Perhaps they'd always feared someone was listening; perhaps it
was in their nature to be this reserved.

"Dana," he whispered against her cheek.

She was suddenly alert. He'd been extolling the virtues of Scully
the last few minutes. Where did this come from?

"Mulder?" she said, raising her eyes to see if mischief lay in his.

"Just seeing if you're all there," he teased.

"Of course, I am. I'm just exhausted. You know, Mulder, you're the
only man I've ever known in the Biblical sense who's energetic after
sex. I would always fall asleep ten minutes after we'd made love.
You'd always either lie awake and think, or get up and read for hours."

She looked up at him in mock disgust, a smirk on her lips.

"That sounds like me all right. Some things never change," he said
resignedly.

She rubbed his stomach with her hand affectionately, smiling against
his arm.

"I wouldn't have it any other way, Mulder. And I do like to be
called Dana. It just threw me for a minute there."

She moved her hand to his chin, directing his gaze toward her own.
"You never have to do anything exactly the way you used to do it,
Mulder. I don't expect that of you. We don't have to recreate our
old relationship to the last detail. I think that's too much to ask
of you."

"But I want to do things that please you," he protested.

"Mulder... I think you're doing plenty that pleases me."

He laughed at the insinuation of her words, pressing his cheek to
her palm. She grinned back at him, enjoying their comfortable
banter.

"Other than that kind of pleasing! Everything you do, have done,
this week has been wonderful. You're under tremendous stress, yet
you accepted me and the baby almost immediately. You don't know how
much that's meant to me. That somehow your soul remembers me,
accepts me as yours."

Her eyes were brimming with unshed tears and Mulder felt responsible
for them. She shouldn't be crying, he thought. Even if they were
tears of joy, he felt guilty for making her go through any of the
terrible things she'd experienced since she'd met him. He'd have to
try to make it up to her every day for the rest of their lives.

"You are mine, Scully." He cupped her cheek in his hand and stroked
away the few tears that she'd shed. "And I am yours. However I knew
on Monday night, however I know now, I'm not going to question it.
You know I'm not a religious man. But sometimes there are miracles
we don't need to question. Don't you think?"

She smiled up at him and said, "I believe, Mulder. I believe enough
for the both of us."

fin

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