She holds him close, for all the times they were torn apart, all the times the world turned its' back on them, all the times they could only count on each other. They hold each other close or they don't do it at all. Even for a moment, before or after or in the middle, he knows he will feel her arms around his shoulders, her breasts against his chest and thighs around his waist. He will fuck her whatever way she wants, front, back and sideways, and she will hold him close, even if only for a few seconds.
Tonight she pins his hands above his head, their fingers twined, because that's all he can stand these days. Spread out beneath her, belly up, while she grinds her clit over the underside of his cock, trapped between them inches from port. She hovers over his mouth, breathing heavy while she pins him down. Her hard nipples graze his chest, strands of hair brush his cheeks, unruly curtain turning light into fire and he's no longer afraid, not when she waits for him there.
The heat stops, almost on the tip of his cock, just beyond his reach. God, you're tiny, he thinks, and her forehead touches his. She lets go, flattening his palms on the cool pillow.
"Nothing." Fingertips tickle his skin until she pushes her hands under his shoulders. He's free and she whispers, "hold me."
Tiles shone like polished glass and the room smelled like limes. It was 90 degrees out so she pulled her hair up, and the loose tank top she wore, slipped over her curves, revealing slightly tanned waist as she stretched on tiptoes to clean the mirrors' edge. How could she look so sexy while cleaning the bathroom, was an x-file in and of itself.
She caught him leaning on the doorframe, in nothing but shorts and a wicked grin on his face. 11 am found him in the yard, cleaning the grill before lunch. They had a house now, and it had needs of its' own.
"The meat is marinating in the fridge," she said throwing a paper towel in the trash and rinsing her hands.
"You done?" He asked.
"Almost," she said and Mulder crossed the six feet between them, catching her in the middle and lifting her off the ground. "Mulder, don't!" She shrieked, laughing when he turned them around. "You look hot, Scully," he chuckled against her ear, taking the three steps between the shower and the sink, while she tried to wriggle out of his vice-like grip.
"No, please, let me finish here first," she whined through a laugh, but his hand was on the knob, twisting it open, water soaking them both. He felt her sag into his arms, lifting her face to the spray and stretching her neck to his kiss. Water flowed over them both, rinsing the last of the summers' heat.
Soon they will shower to warm up, or soak in a tub in soft candle light, like they did in their previous life. Not yet though, they still have a few days off their first summer in their first home left.
He slipped one hand under the wet fabric, cupping her breast and feeling her breathe in.
"It's hotter than hell," he mumbled into her ear, licking water off her skin.
"But at least we know what we're doing here," she said and pulled on the hairband, shaking out her hair. Mulder tugged on the hem of her blouse and she turned around, lifting her arms. It was his turn to do laundry after all.
They face each other in bed, with sheets pulled over their heads and the light turned on, on her nightstand.
"We're all alone," she says cupping his cheek, thumb tracing the arc of his brow, "you can let go now."
"I can't," he sighs but mirrors her touch, "I missed your eyes."
"They missed you too." She stretched to close his eyelids with a kiss, one on each. "Sleep, I'll keep watch."
"Will we ever feel safe enough to close both our eyes?"
"Yes," she said, moving as close as the baby inside her allowed. "You just have to hold on to us, tighter."
Hand on the small of her back drew her in, limbs twining and cradling her belly safely between their bodies. Mindless, tiny caresses, they didn't even bother to stop, finally started to work.
Somewhere on the edge of sleep the baby turned, kicking gently. A whisper of caressing hand soothed her skin.
"Shhhh, mommy needs sleep."
The dream began with a kiss.
Key scraped inside a lock, the doors opened, Scully took three steps and fell face-forward on the bed. Mulder’s chuckle was muffled by the covers.
“Thank goodness it’s over.” She sighed, trying to toe off her heels. Hands on her ankles took over and she moved on to the coat, tugging at sleeves clumsily.
“C’mon Scully, one last effort.”
Tired, amused and tender, that was her Mulder. One hand reaching behind her, he got the message. He dropped the heels and peeled off the coat, along with the blazer she had on.
"Never will I ever go back to that conference room," she declared into the pillow, "ever."
"It's a three day seminar, Scully, we still have two days to go."
"I don't care, I'm so tired I might as well be drunk."
"Promises, promises," he teased and went to hang the coat in the closet.
She sighed and flipped onto her back, relishing the cool covers, without the blouse it would be even better.
"Why are you so chipper," she said and reached for the buttons, just in time for Mulder to turn around.
"Whoa, hold on, I'll be gone in a second," he did a 180, and headed for the connecting doors, shielding his eyes.
Scully laughed, but stopped trying to undo her blouse.
"Since when you're bothered by my lack of clothes?"
"Since you set the no-funny-business-on-the-job rule."
"Mulder," she purred, and het tone made him peek through his fingers, "c'mere."
"I don't think I want to."
"Sure you do," she smiled, leaning on elbows and patting the covers beside her.
"What if I do something reckless," he mused, but came closer.
"I'll be there to save your ass."
"And nag about it later."
"You get one-day-nag-free-pass."
She fell back, sprawled on the bed with eyes closed, resigned. "Oh brother."
The bed dipped, first at the edge, then somewhere below her arms, then a shadow fell over her.
"Is there anything in particular you want?" He said and she felt the words puff against her mouth.
"Tell me you hate the seminar," she sighed and felt the full weight of him dip the bed and pull her in, like gravity.
"I hate it."
"Where would you rather be?"
"On a beach," he mused and she turned, leaning into his side, his arm around her, smoothing down her back.
"Where do you wanna go?"
He took a deep breath and let it slowly out, and she could feel his whole body relax. "Then Hawaii it is, and we're real drunk, on booze, not work."
"Not wasted, though."
"No, just enough to let go of work. You're wearing that blue bikini you got."
"The leafy one."
"Yeah, and a garland of orchids around your neck."
Scully laughed. "And a skirt made of grass?"
"No," he chuckled, "I was thinking more like this gauzy scarf thing you tie around your waist."
"Maybe," he sighed, scratching her back, "anyway, we're walking down the beach and waves lick our feet."
"And that's it."
"That's all I need, really."
"That's a little anti-climactic," she teased. "No sex on the beach?"
"Have you tried it?"
"No," that made her look up, his eyes were closed but he was grinning, "have you?"
"I grew up in a summer town, remember? And I don't recommend it, sand gets in everywhere."
"What if I want it?"
He opened one eye and she was grinning back at him. "Sex on the beach?"
"Yeah," she pulled herself up, to reach is mouth, "take me to the vineyard."
"But it's October."
"I don't care," she said and pressed her lips to his, feeling them part and invite her in.
Waves lick the shore, breeze kisses her cheeks and somewhere in the distance a seagull screams. Setting sun paints the clouds with red and purple and a sense of calm. It's a cold evening on the beach and she's all alone, sits on a bench of driftwood, inhaling peace and exhaling thoughts.
"I never thought I would fall in love like this. I thought love would sweep me off my feet, instead it keeps me running, chasing after things I never thought I'd take seriously. I imagined soft glow and long walks at sunset, not dark alleys and rides in the back of an ambulance. Sometimes I wonder if that's really love, where is that spark that turns even the smallest things to gold, and then he walks into the room and says, 'Scully, you're not gonna believe this,' and puts a smile on my face. We drive through Michigan and he starts to sing and I can't find my voice, because it's your song and he was there, when I missed you the most. Some days I'm so sick of his crazy talk that I can't stand the sight of him, but then I go to bed in the evening and cannot imagine not seeing him again in the morning. Is that how it was? For you and mom?"
She looks far into the ocean, all the way to the horizon, searching for answers in clouds and first stars lighting up the sky.
Waves lick the shore, the wind grows cold, a blanket wraps around her shoulders with a kiss on her cheek and a soft voice.
"I've been looking everywhere for you."
They shared the log in silence, listening to the waves. Mulder perched himself behind her, keeping her warm and comfortable, with the blanket wrapped around them.
"It's not raining sleeping bags, but I'll take it," he chuckled, once she settled in his arms.
"You won't get me naked out here, it's too cold."
"But we had plans," he almost whined, smacking a wet kiss on the side of her neck.
"Plans changed," she laughed.
"But what if I don't need you naked?" He hedged and started nibbling on her skin, grazing lips over her pulse to urge it on. Heat rose in her veins, making tiny hairs on her arms stand on ends.
"What if someone sees us." She said, making no move to stop him from tugging on her belt buckle.
"You keep an eye out and let me handle the rest."
His lower lip filled the dip below her ear and he sucked gently, derailing her train of thought. The belt gave way and she felt his hand on her belly, fingernails scratching lightly.
"Hold the blanket for me," he breathed and his hand moved to her breast, one finger sliding inside the cup, catching on nipple, flicking it, once, twice.
"I love your tits," he whispered into her ear, tugging the cup down and popping her breast out to knead it slowly, "so soft, just perfect." He pinched the tip between his fingers and her breath caught.
"Be gentle," she warned and he let go, back to flicking and circling.
"Whatever you need," he said and popped the button on her jeans, "scoot two inches forward." She did and a hand sneaked between her thighs, cupping her through the fabric of her underwear.
"This is my favourite place in the world," he mused, pressing fingertips into her flesh, "the warm little centre of my universe."
"Not me?" She asked playfully, and immediately felt him puled her closer, one hand on her tit, other over her sex, protective instead of possessive.
"You are my universe, Scully."
She sighed, leaning back and freeing one hand to cover his, spreading her thighs a little wider. "You're such a romantic sometimes."
"Look at me," he said, and she rolled her head on his shoulder.
"Don't stop," she whispered against his lips, "make me come."
Fingers push under her panties, hand close on her breast, and his mouth was on hers. Her knee hooked over his as bodies gave over to instincts, and wrapped in his arms and blankets, she gave herself over to the motion of the ocean.
Never has he ever thought that he'd be that guy, one who sits in his car in front of building, looking at the lights in the windows above. Never, until he went home with one word on repeat in his head, cancer. She didn't say it, but he knew what it meant, and no rationalisation, no promise of hope was strong enough to crush the sense of dread, of looming death. Every time they came into work, every time they got out of a car, every time they chased after suspects, there was a chance they might catch death instead of justice, and he made peace with that. But this? This time he stood in line at the flower shop, watching the girl arrange roses and leaves and bows and cellophane, and he thought, I almost lost her, to death or another man. The words got stuck in his throat that day, it wasn't the time or place, but she was his life, God damnit, and he will not let her go, it's not fair. It's not fucking fair!
The lights went out in the windows on the third floor, too late. He's always one instant too late. She needs her sleep.
'Go home Mulder.' He heard her warm voice in his head and wanted to scream. Instead he pulled out from the parking spot, wiping tears with his sleeve.
"Goodnight Scully." He said to no one.
He'll try again tomorrow.
"But it's my," Mulder began but his voice broke and he stopped himself before he finished the thought.
Scully's anger congealed along with the scabs on her face, but it didn't grow cold. It itched and pulled, and kept her on edge, but there was no sense in ripping the wound open and hurting herself further. So she let the silence stretch, a heavy, simmering, echoing Lack. Not three minutes passed before Mulder was at her side, kneeling before her and taking her face in his hands.
“You are my life, Scully.”
“Don’t touch me.”
Scully kept her voice even and didn't look up. Not when Mulder slowly withdrew his hands, or when he stood up and took a step back, taking with him the heat of her anger. Something broke inside her, sending cold out from her chest and washing emotions away, but bringing no peace whatsoever. Emptiness, that's what it felt like, she couldn’t recall when she had forgotten the sensation. She looked up, trying to push the void back, and saw Mulder looking away, arms hanging limp at his sides. He hadn’t looked this hurt when she shot him, point blank.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that." He stepped around her and headed for the door. "Excuse me."
"Where are you going?"
He didn't say, just took his coat off the rack, opened the door and walked through it. "Mulder!"
Scully followed catching up to him halfway to the elevator. "Don't you walk out on me, we're not done."
"Yes we are, from now on it's personal."
"You took your personal grievances and took them out on the job," he said. "I would understand if you'd taken them out on me, but not the work, and definitely not on yourself."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"You should have left Philly once you closed the case, everything else is none of my business."
"Since when do you not stick your nose into everything I do?" She challenged, stepping closer. Mulder bristled.
"Yes, you do! You call me at all hours, you drag me out on bullshit errands outside of work," she almost yelled, not caring if someone heard her, "you order me around like I'm your assistant. You even called me away from dates!"
"That was one time!"
"You tricked me into going monster hunting with you, and my dog got eaten by an alligator!"
"I didn't tell you to bring that thing along!"
They were both panting now, staring each other down, nostrils flaring, cheeks flushed. Anger was good, anger was hot.
"What am I to you, Scully?" The question caught her off guard.
"Why do you stick around and let me do these things? Why?"
"Because you're my partner," she said, straightening her back, "and my friend."
"And what if I don't want to be friends," He said closing the distance. "What if this is personal, to me."
This time she let him take her face in his hands, tenderly, conscious of her bruises. He leaned in closer, slow enough for her to stop him, but not slow enough to make her think he didn't know what he was doing. Scully watched his eyes close and fine lashes fanned on cheeks distracted her for a heartbeat, and then their lips were touching.
An infinitely soft, full lip cuddled itself against her mouth, whispering 'trust me, take me, love me,' and she did. Nipping gently, just to test the texture, his sudden inhale tickled her skin. It felt as if he breathed in her lips and mesmerized by the sensation, she let the curiosity win. She parted her lips and let him fall inside and they began to move against each other. She stretched on tiptoes and his arms wrapped around her, tangled in her hair, drawing her against his chest and making her warm again. She put her arms around him, determined to never let go of this heat.
Now that she had felt his wall from the outside, she couldn’t even fathom how cold it was. She never realized, because he invited her in on day one.
Mulder broke the kiss and folded himself around her, cradling her against his shoulder, face hidden in her neck.
"You are my life, Scully." He whispered, and finally, she did understand.
thanks to @ghosttoast for proofreading and tender suggestions XD
Her eyes could be closed, but he knew she wasn't sleeping. Her breath betrayed her, its' rhythm far from of what he learned to read as deep sleep. It's a doze of a car ride variety, slow but not really steady. She was awake, if only barely, and he had to be dreaming.
Pale shoulders was all he could dream of seeing, over a hastily wrapped towel, a modicum of decency. Now the sheet falls low down her back and freckle-sprinkled skin goes on and on and on and his hand hovers fraction of an inch away, feeling the warmth radiating from it.
"Mulder," she murmured facing away, head resting on folded arms, pillowing her head on one of his pillows.
"Tickles." Scully sighed and shifted a bit closer, making his hand fall, splayed on her back. What looked like square miles, felt remarkably fragile and small under his palm. "That's better."
"Try to sleep," he whispered, selfishly sharing his warmth instead of the sheet.
"I am trying," she chuckled, "you're not helping."
He glided his hand down, to the valley of the small of her back and up, starting what will quickly become his calming ritual.
"You think they prescribe sex for insomnia?" That won him another laugh.
"It is a form of exercise," she mused, "and releases endorphins and helps you relax."
Another pass and his arm collapsed, head falling on pillow, right next to hers.
"See, it's working," she said and turned, just to have a curtain fall over her face. Mulder huffed out a laugh and combed fingers through her hair, smoothing them away and drawing her closer.
"I don't want this day to end," he whispered, tucking last strand behind her ear.
"It's almost 3am, so it already did." Scully closed her eyes again, ready to drift. "Sleep Mulder," she sighed one last time, "I'll be here when you wake up."
She parked in front of the motel and let her head fall against the headrest. The lights were out, so Mulder was probably still at the police station and for a second, Scully debated starting the engine and going back. Then she realised that it was almost midnight and she was in real danger of falling asleep behind the wheel. Mulder was a big boy, he'd find his way back eventually.
She got out of the car and searching for the key, crossed the parking lot and opened the doors to her side of the connecting rooms.
The scent hit her first, then a lighter clicked and warm light sprang to life, in the corner of her eye. Her FBI reflexes woke up, but it was Mulder, sitting on her bed with a large, square box and a candle in his hands.
"It's okay," he said, smiling, "it's just me."
"You scared the life out of me," she sighed and closed the door.
"Sorry," he said setting the candle on the night table.
Shrugging out of her coat, she crossed the room and taking his face in her hands, kissed him hello.
"Why are you sitting in the dark?" She asked.
"It seemed like a good idea at the time."
She bumped his nose with hers and felt him smile under her hands. "You're crazy and I'm armed."
"I figured, you wouldn't shoot the pizza guy," he said and she laughed, brushing his lips one more time. "Okay, maybe you would."
"Only in defence of my partner," she said bumping him with her hip, to make room so they could sit side by side.
"I ate your dinner that time, so this is me, paying you back." He pulled the box into his lap and opened it, showing her what's inside. "Pepperoni, green peppers, mushrooms and double cheese."
She sighed and never taking her eyes off the pizza, snuggled into his side.
Red emergency light casts deeper shadows, she thinks. Though there's not much in the way of objects to cast the shadows in an elevator, stuck between floors of the Hoover Building. Her watch shows 8:20pm, and she could swear it showed 8:20 the last time she checked, which feels like nine minutes ago.
"Did you ever hear about anyone getting abducted from a broken elevator?" She asked, rolling her head on the wall, to look down at Mulder, sprawled on the floor and using her thigh as a pillow.
"Dunno," he said, keeping his eyes closed, "but if a UFO is able to intercept a plane mid-flight, I don't think a box on a string would pose much of a challenge. I'm worried about something else, though."
"You need to go to the bathroom?"
"Don't say the B word, the coffee I had's gonna hear you."
"Sorry," she stifled a giggle, "so, what are you worried about?"
"The killer-computer case? My first time crawling through ventilation shafts."
"Right, so I was thinking, what if Esther Nairn uploaded her brain, like she wanted to, and now she's messing with us, stopping the elevator on a Friday night, when there's no one around."
"Why would she do that?"
"Dunno," he chuckled, "just a thought. Much better than I'm hungry, I need to piss and why didn't I charge my cellphone this morning."
"Why didn't you bring yours?"
"My point is, the world is against us, Scully and we might die here." He opened one eye and gave her a crooked smile. "What would be the last thing you'd do?"
"The world ends in two minutes, what do you do?"
"That depends," she said, combing fingers through his hair, "are we together?"
"I'd like to think so, yeah."
"And we can't stop it."
"No," he sighed, dramatically, "a tragic waste."
"Two minutes," she said and slipped down the wall, folding around him to rest her head on his chest, "there's a lot you can do with that."
"Choose wisely," he smiled, combing her hair away. "A minute and a half."
"What would you do?"
"It's your moment, Scully, and I asked you first."
"You don't know yourself, admit it."
"I know, I've done it before. One minute."
"Thirty seconds left and you still won't believe me." He groaned and shifted beneath her, hand on the back of her head pulling her close, his body curling around her.
"I'd do this," he said quietly and the kiss crushed her lips, all awkward angle and clashing teeth. Scully gasped, trying to fix it, and then brakes on the lift let go.
She screamed, feeling the floor vanish from beneath her while Mulder's body coiled around her, trying to hold her and shield her, from whatever might happen. Her mind froze screaming his name and then pain shot through her hip and shoulder and then, nothing happened.
The elevator stopped with a jolt, crash echoing up the shaft as the lights turned white. Doors chimed and slid open, revealing the hall leading to their office. They didn't see it, curled around each other, heads cradled in each others' arms, like a post-apocalyptic yin-yang.
"Are you alright, Agents?" Skinner's voice came from somewhere above, but Mulder's was closer.
"I love you."
"I didn't think I would say this Scully, but you smell bad."
Mulder turned and began to walk away, taking the umbrella with him and leaving her in the rain. Still, the little satisfaction wore off fast, as he heard her following three steps behind, to where their cars were parked. Their kids, bah. He lost the sample, he lost the case and he lost the girl. All he had left was Scully, who came here for him, all the way from D.C. To gloat in her rational victory, probably, but still.
"I'm sorry," Mulder said, pausing and reaching out the umbrella, "I didn't mean that."
"I know," she smiled, as they matched their step again, "just let me use your bathroom, so I can wash away the stink before going back."
"You're not staying?" The words were out before he realised them forming. He didn't mean for it to come out so disappointed. "I mean, you drove all the way out here, you should rest. Let me buy you breakfast at least." He glanced at his watch, "or early lunch."
"Fine, but only if it's somewhere near by, because my coat is done for."
"You want to eat at the diner of should I bring something back?"
Scully stifled a yawn and looked up, teary-eyed from exhaustion, which was answer enough. "Okay, I'l bring something back, you go on ahead." He said, handing her the key.
"Sandwich and soup?"
"Whatever you're having, is good." Scully took her overnight bag and went up, leaving Mulder behind.
Once the adrenaline had worn off, she felt dead on her feet.
She unlocked the doors, went inside, dropped her bag on the bed and smelled her clothes.
"I really do stink," she sighed to herself and stripped of her blouse and pants, folding them to wash later, hoping they weren't beyond salvage, like the coat which already went into trash.
Combing through the content of her suitcase, she realised to her dismay, that she forgot her toiletry bag, probably leaving it in the bathroom, along with her pj's.
"That's what happened when you pack on impulse," she thought and, resigned, looked around for Mulder's bag.
Half an hour later, Mulder let himself in and stopped, rooted in place. Scully was sleeping, tucked in between the sheets, in what looked like his Knicks t-shirt. For a second he thought about waking her, but then, as quietly as possible, he left the takeout bags on the table, pulled a pair of sweats and the last clean shirt from his bag, and went to shower first.
She was still asleep when he got out five minutes later, and sitting gently on the bed he lay down on a pillow beside her. Even asleep she looked beautiful.
"Scully?" He said, the back of his hand lightly brushing her cheek.
"Mhmm," she hummed, not waking up.
"Soup's getting cold," he tried again, then added. "I there's cake."
"Cake?" Her eyelids fluttered then sprang open. "It's your birthday!"
"Yeah," he laughed and the light turned from rainy pale to Scully's-hair-russet.
"Happy birthday, Mulder." She whispered in his ear, toppling him onto his back, all warm and soft and in his arms, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He managed a chuckle, stroking her back.
Scully lifted herself on one elbow, tucking strand of hair behind one ear, and smiled at him, not bothered at all by his arms around her. "What do you wanna do?"
'This' was his first thought, but he was sure it wasn't what she was offering. "Let's have lunch first." He said instead.
"And then what?"
"I don't know, are you staying?"
"Is that what you want?"
"Only if you want to."
"I'd have to borrow your soap," she teased and her voce made him bold.
Mulder stretched, burying his nose in the side of her neck, breathing in and making her laugh. "What's mine is yours," he mumbled into her hair before falling back, and meeting her gaze. "Please, stay."