His fingers move along her soft, milky-white skin, hoping to reach the freckles he is sure he is going to find where he thinks they are, where his memory from a couple of years ago tells him they are. He finds none, though.
He hears her soft moan as his fingers reach that place in her lower back that has basically become his, but her voice sounds off, not the sound he is expecting to hear. He shakes his head because he is not supposed to be hearing anything different, just as much as he is not supposed to be expecting to see things on her skin that don’t belong to her.
“Is anything wrong, Mulder?”
She turns on her side, making his hand move along to that part of her where her skin meets her underwear, and the red of the fabric sends his mind wandering in places it is not supposed to be wandering.
He shakes his head once again to say there is nothing wrong, closing his eyes for a second to allow the images to go away. He smiles right afterwards, hoping she will believe he is telling the truth. Nothing is wrong, is it? He lowers his head and kisses her belly button, making her turn on her back and maybe forget what she may have seen in his eyes or may have felt from his touch.
He can feel her hands on his hair, her nails caressing his scalp in ways only pointy round nails can do. He’s got to stop thinking that her nails don't match the image in his mind to the somewhat square and perfectly trimmed nails, nails that are as neat as that brilliant mind of hers. He’s got to stop thinking because these are not the nails running through his hair.
The movement of her hands does nothing to tell him if he should go up or down her body, so he kisses her belly button again – with his tongue this time. Her soft moan decides it for him – up. He trails a path of soft kisses until he reaches the area between her small, rounded, perfect breasts, so perfect he could swear…
Her touch on his semi-erect cock is sudden, so sudden that he has no time to control the word that slips out of his mouth when she wraps her hand around it.
Her touch stops and she is suddenly crawling away from him. It takes him a split of a second to realize what he has done, what the simple slip of a simple last name might have started. Nothing is simple about it all, though. This last name is the reason why he accepted to go out on a date with this woman from accounting in the first place; because this last name isn’t what he is supposed to be thinking about all the time, but it is the only thing he can think about. This last name has been taking over him slowly for the past few years and it has clearly achieved its goal successfully.
“I can’t believe you, Mulder!”, he hears, and he realizes the woman who was supposed to be in bed with him is already on her feet and putting on her pants.
“Listen, this is not what you think, I just…”
“You just what? You just confused our names because you two are banging too?”
“No, of course not. It’s just the force of habit, I’m with her all the time and…”
“Mulder, if you keep trying to explain yourself, it will only get worse.”
She has finished dressing now and is reaching for her purse.
“I’m… I’m sorry.”
Is there anything he could actually say to make this better? Probably not.
She rolls her eyes at him and for a moment he sees what he is looking for. Eyerolls like this were what got him in this mess in the first place.
She picks up her bag from the chair where she left it earlier and hangs it on her shoulder.
“Thanks for dinner, anyway.”
She opens the door to leave the hotel room they booked for the night, but, before she can leave for good, he’s got to try something.
She turns slightly to look at him for what seems to be the last time, at least outside the bureau. She doesn’t say anything, she just waits for whatever he wants to say.
“Could you please not tell anyone about this?” He half closes his eyes while asking the question because he is now sure there is absolutely no other way to make this even worse.
She laughs a mocking laugh before leaving the room and closing the door behind her, while he lies back in bed and covers his face with his own hands, hoping to suffocate before he has to handle the rumors that will surely be running around the bureau by Monday.