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They listened in silence to a local news broadcast on one of the few stations that were coming in clearly on the radio in their rented car. Following news of the latest weather forecast - a winter storm consisting of snow, sleet and ice, the DJ piped up with the advice to “Hurry home from wherever you are and break out the extra blankets, ‘cause this one’s gonna be a doozy!” The cheerful chirp of the DJ was in direct contrast to the collective mood of the car’s two occupants. They’d spent their day poking at huge piles of frozen manure. Now, cold, tired, hungry, and pissed off at the general state of things, they were headed to their lodgings. The car heater seemed hardly sufficient to combat the dropping temperature. Scully shivered and had to restrain herself from asking, “Are we there, yet?” like a petulant child.
They pulled up to the motel, which was situated across the parking lot from a mini-mart, a truck stop and a diner. Well, at least they wouldn’t starve to death. The local sheriff had done them a solid by phoning ahead to reserve rooms for the two of them, which was fortunate, as the parking lot appeared to be full. The wind was kicking up as the agents made their way to the lobby, where a young man wearing thick, horn-rimmed glasses greeted them from behind the desk. “You folks have a reservation,?” he queried. “I hope so,” Mulder replied. “Sheriff Clayton sent us here, said he’d phone ahead for us. We’re Agents Mulder and Scully, FBI.” The clerk glanced down at his reservation book.“Oh, yeah. Got it right here. Good thing he called. You all got our last two rooms. With the storm coming, everyone’s going to ground for the time being.” He stood and retrieved a pair of green, plastic keyrings from the pegboard behind him. They were in the old-fashioned, rhombus style, with the motel’s name and address stamped in fading, gold foil above the room number, and a circle that read “”Drop In Any Mailbox. We Guarantee Postage.” Mulder accepted the keys while Scully signed the register. The clerk informed them that they could find the rooms at the end of the driveway. “One’s upstairs, and one’s downstairs. They’re right above each other. Nothing fancy, but the beds are comfy and the showers are hot. Have a good night, now.”
Mulder and Scully returned to the car and drove the short distance to their rooms. They parked, retrieved their bags from the trunk and headed for the downstairs room. Mulder took the room keys from his coat pocket and dangled them in front of his partner. “Ladies choice,” he offered. Scully didn’t give a damn about which room she wound up with, as long as the clerk was telling the truth about the bed and the shower. Nevertheless, as it would save her a trip up a flight of stairs, she chose the downstairs room. “Well, goodnight, Scully. Sleep tight and don’t let the bedbugs bite.” She scowled at him, not appreciating his brand of humor right at this moment. Realizing that it wasn’t too cold for Scully’s trigger finger to be frozen, Mulder wisely decided to shut his mouth and go to his room. He had scarcely unlocked the door and tossed his bag on the bed when he heard knocking on his door. He opened it, to find his partner on the other side, suitcase in hand. “Scully, what is it? There aren’t actually any bedbugs, are there?” He knew she always gave the mattress in her room a thorough inspection before she’d so much as sit on the bed, much less sleep in it. “No,” she sighed. “Can I come in? It’s freezing out here.” He muttered an apology and stepped aside, closing the door behind her. “So, what’s wrong with the room, Scully?” he asked. “ I have no idea if anything is wrong,” she replied, “as I wasn’t able to get in. I tried to unlock the door. But the key was kind of sticking in the lock, so I tried to jiggle it a little bit. I must have jiggled a little too hard, because I ended up breaking the damned thing off in the lock!” Mulder scrubbed his hand through his hair. “Well, shit, he said. “What do you want to do, now?” “Do? What can I do, Mulder? You heard the guy. We got their last two rooms.” I sure as hell can’t sleep in the car!” Mulder knew his partner, knew her frustration had moved into the Red Zone. Now was time to de-escalate the situation by taking some action. “I’ll call the office, Scully, and see if they can get a locksmith out here, or if they have a cot I can sleep on, at least.” “Fine. Whatever they can do,” she replied, only half listening as she headed over to the bed to begin her inspection. Mulder dialed the desk, hoping desperately that, in the event they couldn’t get Scully into her own room, there would at least be a cot, an air mattress, a pile of straw or anything else he might sleep on so that he would not be forced to spend a cold, winter’s night sharing a bed with his partner.
Scully could hear Mulder’s end of the conversation with the desk clerk, and it didn’t seem to be going well. “Yeah, I know…And there’s only one locksmith in town?...Five kids, huh?...It’s fine. We’re FBI agents, we are trained to cope with every possible scenario. Okay. Yeah, Thanks.” Mulder hung up the phone and turned to his partner. “Sorry, Scully. I went Oh-for-three, there. First, they have no more rooms, which we already knew. Second, the locksmith, who was apparently supposed to have fixed that lock three days ago, isn’t going to be able to come out tonight. Probably not tomorrow, either, because of the weather. Finally, they gave the last rollaway bed to a family that checked in with five kids in tow. So, that’s that. I was gonna ask if there were any extra pillows, so I could make myself a space here on the floor, but they probably gave them all to a bus full of nuns or something.
Knowing Mulder’s tendency to assume the blame for situations that were in no way his fault, and considering the fact that they might possibly be stuck here for days in very close quarters, Scully softened her tone. “You don’t have to sleep on the floor, Mulder. I may be a bit cranky, but I’m not cruel.” Feeling like they had made their peace at the end of a rough day, Mulder figured it would be best to see to their immediate needs. “Why don’t we get changed, and see if the place across the way there has anything halfway decent to eat, “ he suggested. Scully agreed, and took her bag into the bathroom, leaving Mulder to get himself sorted. In the privacy of the bathroom, she had some time to think about the current situation. She almost wished that they were still at odds, because the reality that she was going to have to share a bed with him tonight was doing funny things to her stomach.
The diner served a pretty good bowl of beef stew, which warmed them from the inside. They had pie and coffee for dessert, which further served to lighten their mood, in spite of their shitty (pun intended) day and the fact that they would be stuck here for at least the next 36 hours, if not longer. As they left the diner, Mulder suggested they make a quick stop at the mini-mart. “I don’t think there’s anything I need, Mulder, and we should head back. The clouds are really moving in.” “As it happens,'' replied Mulder, “I’m almost out of sunflower seeds. We’ll be quick, Scully. Besides, you don’t go to a truck-stop mini-mart for stuff you need, you go there for the cool stuff you might find.” He waggled his eyebrows at her, which, naturally, meant she was going to go along with whatever fool notion he had. Fifteen minutes later, they were trooping up the stairs to their room laden with Mulder’s seeds, a six-pack of beer, various snacks, a book of crossword puzzles and a cheesy, romance novel of the bodice-ripping variety. They were set for the night.
Having found the bed to be free of anything objectionable, Scully decided to give the shower a try. Under the hot spray, she felt her muscles loosen and tension she’d been carrying in her shoulders all day finally started to fade away. Maybe, if she was lucky, she would fall to sleep right away, and would thus be able to ignore the presence of the big, warm, ridiculously attractive man who would soon be sleeping beside her. The fact that she was very much in love with him would do little to ease the situation. This was going to be a very long night.
She exited the bathroom clad in a pair of buffalo plaid pajamas that her mother had given her last year for Christmas. Lacking the energy to blow dry and straighten her hair at this late hour, she opted to towel-dry it as best she could, which meant that her hair was now a halo of thick, frizzy curls. This was a look she normally eschewed, as it did not mesh with the sleek, polished, professional persona she liked to maintain at work. Occupied thus, she did not at first notice her partner staring at her from where he sat, half reclining on the bed, an open can of beer in his hand and the crossword puzzle magazine covering the tent that was beginning to form in the front of his jeans.
While Scully showered, Mulder had endeavored to turn his thoughts away from thinking about her being right there, on the other side of the bathroom door, wet, soapy and naked. No, it would definitely be dangerous to have that image in his mind. He didn’t want her to come out of the bathroom and find him with an erection the size of a telephone pole. He’d wanted her almost from the day he’d met her. As they’d grown closer as partners and friends, the physical attraction he’d felt since those early days had blossomed and ripened into something much more deep and profound. He had admitted to himself long ago that he was in love with her. This feeling grounded and centered him, while at the same time, it scared the hell out of him. He already knew how it felt to be without her, and it was an experience he never cared to repeat. When she’d lain in the hospital, dying of cancer, he’d felt a part of himself being torn away. That night in the hallway of his apartment, just before she’d been stung by the bee and taken from him again, he’d come as close to saying the words as he ever had. Would his confession finally bring her to him in the way he desired, or would she retreat and leave him forever? There was so much to win, but far too much to lose. So, he tried to concentrate on the crossword puzzle he was working on and to not think about the hell he was about to endure in having a warm, soft Scully beside him in bed all night. He thought he might be succeeding, when, in a cloud of sweet smelling steam, she emerged from the bathroom, her hair tumbling wildly about her head and her PJs clinging to the still damp places on her wonderful, curvaceous little body. Against his will, he found himself growing hard at the sight of her. His own shower would have to be a cold one.
Mulder snapped his jaw shut, and practically leapt from the bed. He tossed the puzzle book onto the nightstand and plunked the can of beer he’d been sipping from beside it. Making a beeline past a rather startled Scully, he muttered something about really having to pee and nearly slammed the bathroom door shut behind him. Safely behind the closed door, he flushed the toilet for show and undressed. He was still hard, and it would be easy enough to just hop in the shower and take care of business. The scent of Scully’s soap and shampoo still lingered in the humid air of the bathroom, and inspiration would be easy enough. Yet, as he stood under the shower spray, Mulder found that he’d lost the desire to give himself release. On the other side of the bathroom door, in a bed that they would be sharing for at least this night, sat the brilliant, beautiful, achingly desirable woman with whom he was utterly, desperately, passionately, irrevocably in love. He wanted to climb into that bed with her, remove her nice, chaste sleepwear and kiss her all over her luscious body. He wanted to touch her, caress her, bury himself inside her and fill her with his seed. What he did not want to do was jerk off in the shower of yet another two-star motel in a one-motel town and watch his spunk slipping down the drain in a swirl of soap and scum. While it was improbable that his fantasy would become a reality tonight, he had to believe that it was not impossible. After all, extreme possibilities were his stock-in-trade. And,oh, how he wanted to believe.
Scully sat on the bed, in the spot that Mulder had so abruptly vacated and picked up the can of beer that he’d left on the nightstand. It was still cold, so she took a sip, then another. Pretty soon, she’d finished the can. She was fidgety and had hoped that the alcohol would help her to relax. It hadn’t really. She felt like a virgin bride on her wedding night, which was, of course, ridiculous, since she was neither. Mulder seemed to be taking a long time in the bathroom and she wondered if maybe he was…well, best not to let her mind wander in that direction. The notion that he might be indulging in a session of self-gratification kind of pissed her off, which was also ridiculous. What he did in the privacy of the shower was his own business. Still it irked her that he would choose his own hand over a living, breathing woman who wanted him, loved him, and would give her life for him. Sure, he only knew that last thing, but if he’d only pay attention, he would see that she would willingly bare both body and soul to him.
Mulder had taken his time in the shower, not wanting to emerge until he had gotten both his mind and his body under control. This situation wasn’t so bad. He would go out there, join Scully on the bed, and they would find a movie or something to watch on tv. Probably, Scully would fall asleep before he did. They would sleep on their respective sides of the bed, maintaining a chaste, partner-ly distance between them, and all would be well. Hell, maybe she was already asleep. That would be even better. There was absolutely no reason why he should have these butterflies in his stomach. No reason at all. He pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms and a clean undershirt and prepared to go sleep with his partner.
Mulder came out of the bathroom to find Scully in the bed, very much awake; her back against the headboard, her glasses on and the paperback in her hand. She looked up from the book. “Oh. I'm sorry, Mulder. Did you want this side? I can move, it's no problem.” He shook his head. “No, it's fine. I don't really have a preference. If you're comfortable there, by all means, stay put.” She nodded, adding, “I finished your beer, too.” He laughed. “Was I in there that long? I hadn't realized.” He plopped down on the other side of the bed. Glancing at the book in her hands, he noticed that she was almost halfway through it. There was no way he’d been in the shower that long. “Did you take up speed reading, Scully?” he asked, pointing at the book. “Huh? Ah. No. I don't read that fast. I just skipped ahead to the good part.” Suspecting what “the good part” might be, he nevertheless felt compelled to ask the question. “What do you mean, ‘the good part, Scully?” She blushed. “Well, you know, the sex scene. It's always in the middle of these books. “Really?” he chuckled. “I had no idea you were such an aficionado of the genre, Scully.” She rolled her eyes at him. “I wouldn’t say that I am an aficionado,I’m just familiar with the formula. My Aunt Olive always had stacks of these things in her house. Melissa and I would read them when we visited her. About halfway through the book, the beautiful, young heroine - who is usually a virgin, and the older, more experienced hero who is always a skilled lover - finally make love. She’s usually shy, yet bold, and eager to learn. When he penetrates her that first time, it’s usually something like, ‘the pain soon turned to pleasure, and she was swept away by a wave of ecstasy,’ or some corny bullshit like that. Then, of course, they climax together, and the hero gets a cloth and ‘gently wipes his seed from her satiny thighs.’ Again, total bullshit. But, very titillating when you’re a fourteen-year-old girl who’s reading something she knows she isn’t supposed to.” Mulder laughed, “That’s pretty good, Scully. You could write those things and retire off the royalties.” Scully made a derisive sound. “Not me. I wouldn’t want to contribute to a genre that sets young girls up for eventual disappointment. If you ask me, no one should read these things unless they’ve actually had sex.” She closed the book and tossed it on the nightstand.
Mulder now found himself in a curious position. He could change the subject, or turn on the television or challenge Scully to a game of gin rummy or just about anything other than what his brain was shouting at him to do, which was to keep her on the topic of sex. But, now, there was an opening, and he simply could not let it go. So, he gamely pressed forward.
Trying to appear as nonchalant as possible, he folded his arms behind his neck and leaned back against the headboard. “So, Scully. From what I gather, your first time did not involve pain turning into pleasure or being swept away on waves of ecstasy.” He waited, hoping she might be willing to share something personal that they’d never talked about. He could see her, weighing her options and contemplating whether this was something she wanted to share. Finally, she answered him. “Frankly, Mulder, my first time was memorable in the fact that it probably lasted all of two minutes.” “You’re shitting me,” Mulder laughed incredulously. “Tell me more!” Now, warming to her story, Scully related the tale of losing her virginity to her lab partner, Ronnie, during freshman year in college. “There was neither pain nor pleasure, on my part,” she laughed. “I just thought, ‘That was it? That’s what everyone makes such a big deal about?’ I decided that I didn’t really need to bother doing it again for some time. I pretty much just threw myself into my studies. I wasn’t in college to party or get laid. Weird, I know, but you know me.”
Mulder was pleased that Scully had shared this story with him. He was also retroactively disappointed on her behalf. He hated that the honor of being the first man to make love to Scully had gone to some clown who’d shot his wad the second he’d gotten inside her. Pathetic. It had nothing to do with him, but he wanted to make it up to her. He didn’t presume that subsequent sexual encounters had been as anti-climactic for her as that first time, but he wanted to show her what a first time should be like. So caught up in his reverie, he hadn’t realized that she was asking him a question. “I’m sorry, what?” he asked. “I said, did you go the distance your first time?” Now, this was good, because she was clearly digging this line of conversation. “I did okay. But, I had the advantage of being deflowered by someone who was much more experienced than I was. She kind of coached me through it. The next day, I sent her a dozen roses and a Thank You note,” he laughed. This revelation reduced Scully to giggles, which was a gift in itself. “Mulder,” she asked, when she’d recovered. “Have you ever ‘deflowered’ anyone?” He thought about it. “No. Not that I know of.” he answered. This surprised Scully, who had the impression that all men wanted to be the first one there, and she told him so. “Nah. Not me, Scully. I never wanted that responsibility. I would not want some woman to remember me the way you remember your encounter with poor Ronnie.” “You couldn’t disappoint me,” she replied, and suddenly realized what she’d said. “Ohshitohshitohshit!” Her brain was in salvage mode, but she couldn’t pull the words back, now that she’d said them. She hazarded a glance at Mulder, who had gone silent on his side of the bed. He was regarding her with an intensity that made her skin flush with heat. “I-I mean, because I’m not a virgin. You couldn’t disappoint me because you aren’t my first,” she stammered, but the way he was looking at her was making it difficult for her to think, and she wasn’t digging herself out of this hole. “Well, Scully” he rumbled. “I would not be your first, but I’d sure as hell like to be your best. And your last.”
“Oh.” That was it. That was the only response she had. Special Agent Dr. Dana Scully, with her fine credentials and extensive vocabulary was now only capable of a monosyllabic utterance. Mulder shifted his position on the bed, moving closer to her side. She could smell his soap and aftershave. Her body instinctively learned towards him and her heart began to race. To think, not an hour ago, she’d been sitting here, wishing that he would open his eyes and see her as a woman. Now, here he was, openly confessing that he wanted to have sex with her. Not only that, but that he wanted her all for himself. This was huge. This was tremendous. Mulder was talking about something more than just a hookup based upon circumstance. He was talking about forever. Right now, she should be chanting a litany of why this Should.Not.Happen. But, as it turned out, she couldn’t think of a good reason. Not when he was there, next to her, smelling so good and so familiar and so, well, so - Mulder. His scent was imprinted on her engrams, and she turned to him, inhaling him and wanting him more than she’d ever wanted anyone or anything in her life. Now, she could have him. She was free to open herself up to him - to love him and to let him love her.
The temperature outside the room continued to drop as the storm moved in, but in this little motel room, things were heating up swiftly. Once he was certain that he’d been given the green light by Scully, Mulder let his hands go where they would. His fingertips traced along her brow, her jawline, her lips. Where his fingers had been, his lips soon followed. When his tongue traced the shell of her ear, Scully shuddered with pleasure and moved to straddle him. To his delight, he found that he’d discovered one of her erogenous zones. Seated on Mulder’s thighs, Scully could feel the hard length of his cock beneath her. She took his face in her palms and kissed him deeply, feeling him grow thicker and harder as she moved on top of him. They were only at foreplay, and already she could tell this was going to be a chart-topper. Her sex was slick and swollen and she was dizzy with desire. If they weren’t both naked within the next thirty seconds, she was sure to go mad. Reluctantly, she lifted herself from astride him, but only to rid herself of her pajamas. There was no need to give Mulder direction, as he stripped off his own nightwear with a gratifying haste.
Now, they both lay naked on the bed, facing one another. Yet, they made no move to continue. The reality of what they were about to do struck them simultaneously, and they paused to give the moment the gravitas it deserved. Only a moment though, as they longed to consummate the love that burned so brightly between them. As the opening salvo in his campaign to ruin Scully for all other men, Mulder let his tongue take the lead, licking at the hard peaks of Scully’s nipples, snaking down her torso and taking playful laps at her bellybutton, before moving in for the kill. With a mischievous grin, he dipped his head between her parted thighs and lapped at her labia like a kid with an ice cream cone on a hot summer’s day. Scully moaned and writhed, incapable of forming any sentences more complicated than “Yes!, More! & Please!” Mulder upped his game and slipped his fingers inside her, while his lips, those fantastic, soft, sexy lips that had secretly driven Scully mad lo’ these many years began to suck at the slick nub of her glans. Scully’s hips bucked wildly as Mulder proceeded to do things to her with his mouth and his fingers that were very likely illegal in some states. He slid his fingers from within the depths of her tight, dripping pussy and slipped his arms beneath her thighs, lifting her ass off the bed so that he could cover her more fully with his mouth. “Mmmmmmmm, gonna come, Mulder! Gonna come. Oh, shit!, holy fuuuuck!,” she cried. Mulder murmured sounds of encouragement and praise as Scully came all over his face. He let her down gently, stroking her quivering thighs as she rode out her orgasm.
Mulder moved up to lie beside his pretty partner, who was fairly levitating off the bed with pleasure. But, he was not done with her, not by a longshot. He kissed her deeply, so she could get a sample of her own, delicious flavor. Her hand reached for his cock, and he allowed himself the pleasure of a few, firm strokes before removing it. She looked uncertain, but he told her not to worry. “I love the way you touch me, Scully, but I don’t want to suffer the fate of poor, old Ronnie. I’m not gonna come until I’ve fucked you properly. Tell me how you want me to do it, baby. Anything you want. I want to give it to you exactly the way you want.”
Scully lay back and spread her legs. “I want you on top of me, Mulder. I want you on top of me and inside me and everywhere all around me,” she moaned. Mulder moved to top her. He wanted to tease and play with her a bit more, bring her to the edge before fucking her senseless, but he didn’t like his chances right now. He was ready to burst, but he was going to rattle her bones a bit before finding his own release. He slid inside her, and it was so easy, so smooth and slick and tight just exactly the way he had dreamed it would be. This was bliss. This was better than every gift he’d ever received, and he wanted to show her his appreciation. He moved slowly, to give her time to adjust. But Scully, little minx that she was, was having none of that. She tightened around his shaft, gripping him like a vice, and he nearly wept with joy. She released her grip, and he began to move faster, faster and harder, because those were the only words he was hearing from her. He was giving her everything he had, as she was his everything. “What do you need, baby?” he panted. “Touch me, Mulder.” He slipped his fingers between them, seeking that hard, little nub that would bring her off but good. He stroked and pumped, feeling her tighten around his dick again. “Oh, Mulder. Yes. That’s perfect. Don’t stop!” Damned if he would stop, not when she was this close. “Come on. Come, baby, comecomecome!” he was desperate to hold on, but his own orgasm was rushing at him like a bullet train. Scully groaned in a way that would leave her throat raw the next day, and came hard. That was all Mulder could take. “Scully, I’m gonna come, Where can I come?” They hadn’t discussed the logistics of this, and he didn’t want to presume. “Come inside me, Mulder. I want you to.” He didn’t have to be told twice. His balls drew in tight, and he shot inside her hard and deep.
For several minutes, they lay there, entwined, unable to muster up the energy to get cleaned up or even to move. Finally, though, Scully’s need to relieve herself won out over her desire to remain in Mulder’s embrace and she got up. She could feel Mulder’s seed dripping down the inside of her thigh, and she realized that there was something she could give him that she had never given to another man. Cleaned and refreshed, she returned to the bed, a couple of towels in hand for the mess they’d made on the sheets. She cuddled beside Mulder and kissed him. Sated and a little stunned that this had finally happened, they began to drift off to sleep, but not before Scully made a confession. “Mulder, you were my first,” she told him. He looked at her, puzzled. “You were the first man to ever come inside me without a condom. I’m glad I could give that to you. I wanted to.” Moved, he kissed her softly. “Thank you, Scully. I’m honored. Truly.” “It was my pleasure, in every way,” she replied. “Of course, I’ll expect roses and a Thank You note when we get home,” she added. He laughed, pulled her in close, and they slept.