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Stripping in the Moonlight by LizC
Stripping in the Moonlight
Author: LizC
Rating: NC-17
Keywords: MSR, smut
Summary: Mulder and Scully find themselves with time on their hands after their case is solved early. Idle time leads to mischief, and mischievous moments lead to smut.
Feedback appreciated. Email me at [email protected] or [email protected].
Stripping in the Moonlight
“Fuck!” she exclaimed, throwing the phone back down into the receiver and crossing her arms, falling back against the headboard. It took only a few seconds for Mulder to poke his head through the half-open connecting door, just as she knew he would. Misery loved company, and right now, she needed someone to commiserate with. Fortunately for her, Mulder always around, and, in this case, was in the same boat she was.
“Let me guess,” he muttered, the toothbrush flaying wildly in and out of his mouth, suds lining his lower lip. “You couldn’t get us on an earlier flight.”
“What?” she replied, not able to understand a single word he said. “Fuck,” she muttered again for emphasis, tossing her briefcase in the general direction of the desk near the corner of the motel room. It missed, sliding onto the floor. Scully didn’t even flinch.
Mulder disappeared from sight for a few seconds. She heard him spit, and then the water ran in a short burst. She knew this because, when Mulder turned on his water, the pipes in the wall behind her rattled. If he flushed, or got a drink of water, or even sneezed, for god’s sakes, the pipes rattled. She had been in this damn motel long enough, and she wanted to go home. Immediately.
“We are not getting home tonight, are we?” That was Mulder, sticking his head back around the door, his face wiped clean of toothpaste suds. At her crestfallen face, he sighed, and swallowed the “I told you so” remark Scully knew was waiting beneath the surface. He had told her so, told her that there was no use wasting her time and energy tonight when the best they could hope for was stand-by. Their flight was tomorrow afternoon, and that was that.
But he didn’t say a word, showing an admirable restraint for Mulder. Instead, he sighed softly, and then walked into the room, sitting on the bed across from her. “I’m sorry, Scully,” he said, so sincerely that she blinked, twice, and was convinced he really meant it.
“But, since we are stuck here in” His voice trailed off, and she was amused to see him glancing around the room, trying to figure out where they were. Too many field assignments in too short of a time, Mulder, she silently chided him.
“Green Gables, Middle-of-Nowhere,” she answered, her voice too curt to be considered sarcastic.
“Ok, then,” Mulder responded, grabbing her by her hand, “then Green Gables, Middle-of-Nowhere it is. We’re both still dressed.” She looked down derisively at his worn blue jeans and her comfy slacks, their official lounging in the motel room after a case ensemble, but kept silent. “Surely there’s someplace in town we haven’t eaten at just yet, someplace where we can find a stiff drink and listen to some honky-tonk on the jukebox.”
She started to somehow graciously decline, to tell Mulder that she just didn’t think she would be good company tonight, that after the case they had seen, and the horrors that local law enforcement had put her through, and the fact she had spent two hours fighting with a faceless and utterly unhelpful airline representative, all for naught, she just didn’t want to see anymore of this two-bit town than she already had.
“You’re on,” she said, before she had the chance to doubt herself, and she laughed aloud at the surprise evident in Mulder’s expression as she grabbed her purse and headed for the door.
She should have doubted herself.
“This is not a good idea, Mulder,” she said for the thousandth time, standing in the middle of a dirt-and-gravel parking lot, staring at the neon “Club Moonlight” sign sizzling in the humid night air. Their dusty Taurus was practically the only car in the lot, sitting forlornly between a beat-up pick-up truck and what she guesstimated to be a Harley.
“And why not?” he said, tucking his wallet into his rear pocket as he walked up beside her. “The other two restaurants in town were closed, and we both said we wanted a drink. I think we might be able to get one here. And it’s not likely, at this time of night, there will be much action going on.”
Oh, god. He couldn’t be playing this as straight as she thought he was. Inside, she knew he was laughing at her, challenging her to sit in the car while he went inside and enjoyed a nice, cold beer. It wasn’t that she was a prude, or that the idea of anything cold and alcoholic at that moment wasn’t very appealing. They were officially off-duty, the case solved, biding their time until they were on the plane for home.
But she couldn’t fathom how going into a strip club with her partner would, under any circumstances, be considered a good idea.
Mulder’s hand on her shoulder caused her to jump. “Look, Scully, if this makes you uncomfortable, I honestly do understand. I thought it might be something a little different for us. Have you ever been in a strip club before?”
Dear god, the situation just got more bizarre. She wasn’t about to tell Mulder about the time she and her girlfriends from college hit the row of strip clubs lining the beach during spring break, or how she was coerced into dancing on the bar top, and then some. Nope, that story was never being told in front of Mulder. Damn his photographic memory.
“Well,” she stammered, uncertain, “that’s not the point. Are you sure you feel comfortable with this, Mulder? I mean, even if the case is closed, we are federal agents, out in the field. And it’s not like our friendship is at the point where I hang out at your place on the weekends to watch your special videos.”
She meant it as an offhanded joke, trying to lighten the mood, but she thought she saw Mulder’s face fall just a fraction, and she sighed. Damn, but this man could guilt her into most anything.
“Last time I checked, Scully, sitting in a strip club, having a beer with your closest friend wasn’t a crime.” She wasn’t sure which part of his statement to think about first. Mulder’s description of her as his closest friend, or the last time he was sitting in a strip club. Damn, damn, damn. How could this town not have a single bar that was open past ten on a weeknight? One that didn’t feature naked women dancing on a tabletop, that is.
She knew she shouldn’t. She knew it was a bad idea. She knew Mulder wouldn’t really be angry with her if she insisted on going back to the motel room. But where was the fun in that, her teenage voice chided her.
“Fine, Mulder,” she said, forcing herself to leave her concerns in the parking lot with their Taurus. “Into Club Midnight it is.”
He couldn’t quite believe she said yes. He knew how badly Scully wanted to get the hell out of Dodge. He did, too. He was tired, and frustrated, and wanted to spend the night on his couch, rather than some lumpy motel mattress of the month. But that wasn’t going to happen, and he sure didn’t want to sit around in that godforsaken motel room dwelling on it.
But he never expected her to agree to go out with him, and he sure as hell never expected them to be walking into a strip club together.
Strip clubs had never really been his thing. There was something comfortably appealing about the anonymity of watching videos on his couch, being able to shut the blinds and lock the door and do whatever came to mind. He had been into a few clubs, sure, mostly taking the far table in the corner and nursing his beer and simply relaxing. Of course, he found beautiful, naked women dancing suggestively in the darkness arousing. But it wasn’t like he had a hard-on the minute he walked in the door.
He tried to remind himself of this, shifting uncomfortably as Scully stood in the lobby in front of him, giving the burly doorman a few dollars for the cover charges.
“Mulder?” she asked, turning to look at him over her shoulder. “Don’t you want to come inside?”
He had to admit it. Although his relationship with Scully was purely platonic (intense, but platonic), there were times his mind wandered, and he imagined what it would be like if things shifted somewhat. Like, Scully shifting naked next to him in his bed after a passionate evening of making love. Or, Scully shifting to reach something on his desk, and offering him a nice view down her blouse.
He wondered how to classify the “standing together inside a strip club while not officially working” moment. He had a feeling something was changing, by the way Scully suggestively met his eyes, and then dropped them to the ground, walking confidently into the club.
She settled into a table close to the dance stage, never looking at the handful of other patrons in the room. All of them men, most of them looking like they had a worse week than he and Scully did. He immediately veered right, to the bar. A topless woman behind the counter smiled at him. She was blonde, and quite buxom, and he mumbled something about two beers and passed a ten between them, telling her to keep the change.
Ok, so this was going to be fine, he thought, settling next to Scully and passing her a dewy bottle of some overpriced beer. “Hope this is okay,” he said, realizing that he didn’t really know what kind of beer she drank. She only nodded, and then smiled at him. Just as she tipped the bottle back, exposing her creamy throat to the fluorescent colored lights, the first dancer came on stage, and Mulder realized he didn’t know quite where to look.
“Straight from LA for an exclusive two-night engagement at the Moonlight, welcome Penny Lane!” the announcer boomed enthusiastically into the microphone. Penny Lane, who obviously missed the session in subtlety, immediately stripped to the smallest thong Mulder had ever seen, and began wildly gyrating against the steel pole.
Mulder barely managed to suppress his groan.
“Mulder,” his partner said, placing her small hand on his hand, and he was startled to realize how clear his partner’s eyes were. “Maybe we should order another round of these.”
It was only with their third round of beers that the muscles in her neck began to relax, and, with their forth, her toes uncurled slightly. She had been playing it cool since the moment they walked into the door. But she cursed the moment when she threw caution to the wind and hopped into the Taurus at the motel, Mulder at the wheel.
The world grew smaller, leaving only she, Mulder and whatever beautiful dancer was on stage. It wasn’t as much that she was watching them, the way they removed each article of clothing with the delicate nature of a feline, crawling around on the stage. Hell. Even as a straight female, she found the sight arousing. But she could finally admit after her fourth beer that watching Mulder watch these women was the most arousing sight of all.
Not that he was being crass about it. In fact, she admired his restraint, the way he never stared too long, always turning his attention to her when she spoke. But it was the subtle way in which his eyes caressed each woman as she moved forward into the light, the way he rubbed his hand on his denim-clad thigh when a particularly attractive woman teased him by pulling her thong down just so, revealing a long, well-defined leg.
“Hey, Scully,” Mulder said, leaning closer to her ear and interrupting her thoughts. The loud bass from the speaker behind her boomed, and Mulder continued whispering in her ear, and she swore she felt a shiver go down her spine. “Do you think you could ever do that?”
She gulped the last of her beer. “That?” she repeated dumbly, gesturing somewhere in the direction of the small stage, where Wendy was moving slowly in a small circle, wearing four-inch heels and little else. “I don’t think so,” she said, shaking her head furiously.
“And why not?” Mulder asked, setting his empty beer bottle next to hers. They had amassed quite a collection. Probably wouldn’t be able to put these on the expense report.
“Well, for several reasons,” she began. “One, while I am not excessively modest, dancing naked in front of strangers is not something I think I could ever do. Two, the heels alone would kill me. I can manage some impressive feats in my heels at work, but shimmying down a steel pole is not something I think I want to try. Three, my legs don’t look like that,” she continued, jerking her head in Wendy’s general direction, “and my breasts definitely don’t look like that, so I don’t quite see the point.”
“Would you do it for someone you knew?”
Scully unconsciously raised an eyebrow, not sure what he was getting at. “Would I do what for someone I knew?”
“That,” he simply said, pointing toward Wendy.
Oh. Well. “That depends,” she finally answered, slowly, picking her words with great care. “That depends on the other person.”
He was surprised he didn’t hurt Scully, the way he grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the table. He threw the rest of their dollar bills down on the bar on their way outside, knowing that he had to get away, from the close confines and arousing atmosphere of the Club Moonlight, before he said or did anything stupid.
Anything more stupid than essentially asking Scully if she would ever consider stripping for him.
He was standing by their rental, fumbling with his keys, before he realized that Scully was not next to him. She was still standing by the club door, her arms linked across her chest. “I’m not getting in the car with you,” she declared.
This was even worse than he thought. “Why not?” he croaked.
“Mulder,” she said patiently, walking over to him. “We have both been drinking, and I think the last thing we need to do is get in the car and drive.”
She was right. While he felt disgustingly sober, the empty beer bottles back inside were testament to every reason why he shouldn’t drive. But he just didn’t think he could go back inside. Watching Scully, in what he personally found to be a very sexually charged atmosphere. He groaned again. This had not been a very good idea.
“C’mon, Mulder,” Scully said, taking him by the arm. “Let’s go for a walk.”
He looked up and down the desolate two-lane highway. “You want to walk along the road?” he asked incredulously.
Instead, she pulled him towards the rear of the club, where a small dirt path curled along what looked to be an empty pasture surrounded by white fencing.
“I’m sorry, Scully,” he finally said, as they picked their way along the path, the only illumination coming from the nearly full moon. “Are you dragging me out into the middle of nowhere to shoot me?”
She laughed at his joke, and he was comforted by the way she reached over to hold his hand. There was something special in the way her thumb caressed the soft skin near his wrist. “I’m not mad, Mulder. And it’s nice out here in the evening.”
Scully was right. The further they walked away from the somewhat seedy Club Midnight and the highway, it became quieter, almost serene. There was something beautifully romantic in the way the moonlight cut through the heavy oak trees. He wondered if they were trespassing, and how to explain that one to the local sheriff, who already hated them with an intense passion.
“Were you aroused by seeing those women, Mulder?”
Ah, the question. He couldn’t even look at her if he wanted to answer her honestly. “Of course,” he murmured. She never let go of his hand, her thumb still moving in a delicate circle.
“And you think you would like it if I danced for you?”
Now this was treading on uncertain ground. He pondered how best to answer that question without either hurting Scully’s feelings or digging the hole he was in even deeper. She was walking dangerously tonight, and he had the sinking feeling that she knew it. Who was he kidding? Scully had been in control of this situation from the beginning.
“Of course I would, Scully.” His answer was a soft, yet firm, whisper. He wanted her to know how attractive he found her. He wanted her to understand that even Wendy and Penny Lane and the other nameless, naked women from the club paled in comparison to the way he loved her, the way he trusted and believed in her. That she walked into that club tonight because she trusted him, and wanted to be with him. That he would do most anything in the world to make her feel special, because she was.
But that was asking too much for him, to say those things, so he tried to convey it with his eyes.
“Sit down,” Scully sat, pushing him down to the base of one of the old oak trees lining the pasture. It was quiet, except for the incessant noise of the crickets in the distance. He was amazed to see a million stars in the sky, and realized how much he missed by living in the city. The sky was so clear, and he thought he could almost touch the stars if he wanted.
“Mulder,” Scully said, drawing his attention back to her. If he hadn’t been sitting, he would have fallen. Scully was standing a few feet away from him, illuminated by the bright moonlight, and was moving her hips to some music only she could hear. It was a slow, rhythmic dance, and he was instantly drawn to the way her teeth bit her lower lip in concentration.
He wanted to tell her to stop, to tell her that she didn’t have to do this. But he couldn’t find his voice. He watched, dumbfounded, as she raised her hands up to her button-down shirt, and slowly, with agonizing certainty, began to undo each button.
Oh, god. There were no words. He could only watch as the moonlight danced through her red hair, and the shirt finally came open, revealing a creamy expanse of skin and a silky lace bra. She was stunning. Whatever base physical desire he felt while inside the club was negated. This was heaven.
She looked absolutely beautiful.
She looked like an idiot.
When she first began, she couldn’t even meet Mulder’s eyes, uncertain as she was to his reaction. She wasn’t even sure what drove her to this point, stripping in front of her partner while in the middle of an abandoned pasture, lit only by the moon. It was something about his vulnerability, a trait of his that had always appealed to her, that made her want to protect him.
It was his honesty in revealing to her that she was beautiful, and he wanted her. In his own way, of course.
By the time her shirt fluttered open in the night air, she felt the tension ease from her muscles, and realized something arousing. It was empowering, being in this position, revealing herself to Mulder exactly as she wanted to. It was a thrill to watch the way his eyes widened, and then furtively skimmed down to her navel, before returning to her eyes, letting his gaze rest on her breasts.
She swore he could see her heartbeat, it was thudding so rapidly in her throat.
She reached up to her bra clasp before she realized what she was doing. “You don’t have to do this, Scully.” That was Mulder, or at least an effort at his normal voice. He sounded breathless, and the way his eyes watched her, never blinking, made her want to give this to him even more.
“Oh, Mulder,” she whispered, just as the bra clasp came undone and the lacy garment fell to the ground. “Don’t you know I want to?”
To his credit, he at least looked at her before he stood to his feet, closing the distance between them in a heartbeat. He pulled her closer to him, wrapping his arms against her bare skin, and kissed her, a bruising, demanding kiss. It was euphoria, and pain and pleasure, and she never wanted it to end.
It did, finally, as Mulder pulled away from her. But he didn’t stop kissing her. Instead, he let his kisses fall down her throat, until he was suckling on her bare breast, pulling the nipple into his mouth and nipping at it with his teeth. She moaned, rather loudly, and she thought she heard him laugh.
Then his hands were on her waistband, and she heard the zipper come undone, and felt the air on her hips as he pulled the slacks toward the ground. “Let me see you, Scully,” he growled. “All of you.”
As if she could deny him anything.
He pulled her panties down with her slacks, and she stepped out of them, kicking her sandals off with abandon. Standing naked in front of Mulder. He had seen her naked before, of course, but never quite like this. She was surprised that she didn’t feel awkward, or uncomfortable, the way his smoldering eyes traced every curve of her body, the way his hands were curled tightly at his sides, as if he was holding himself back from touching her.
She felt beautiful, and loved, and her heart raced in her chest because she wanted this man so terribly much.
He fell to his knees before her, and she realized that, in his own way, Mulder was worshipping her. He always had, by being her friend, her confidante, her protector. She felt his warm breath against her wetness, and she shivered uncontrollably. “Yes, Mulder,” she managed, and he understood.
His first taste was tentative, as if he were savoring the very essence of her. She was so wet, and had been from the beginning of their evening adventure. Mulder’s tongue slid amidst the folds, and she felt him hum in the back of his throat, as if she were the most exquisite taste in the world.
She brought her hands up to his head, and wrapped her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer to her. His tongue danced against her, and then he replaced his tongue with his hands. His fingers were masterful, confidant, and they touched all of her, exploring the one part of her she had never revealed to him.
Her legs were weak, and she slid to the ground beside him. “Oh, god, Mulder,” she murmured, noting somewhere in the back of her mind that being with him like this robbed her of her ability to form coherent sentences.
Mulder didn’t seem to mind. Somehow, he unzipped his jeans, and she opened her eyes to see him hovering over her. “Look at me, Scully,” he said, and she wanted to tell him that she thought she would never want to see anything else. “You are more beautiful than any other woman in the world. Remember that.”
Sometime during his declaration, he pushed himself inside her, and she groaned loudly at his hardness, the way he seemed to fill all of her. He was very still for a minute, and she watched as he closed his eyes in concentration, wanting to regain control of the situation. She knew how he felt. But there would be time for extended pleasantries later.
“Fuck me, Mulder,” she said, surprised at how wanton her voice sounded, how sultry the statement seemed.
He made a sound somewhere between a moan and an anguished cry, and began to move inside her, long, slow strokes. He pulled her leg up near his waist, and, with his other hand, reached for her breast, teasing the nipple with his fingers.
She came instantly, and, as she did, she threw her head back, looking up into the moonlit sky, realizing that life might not get any better than this.
Mulder came a fraction of a second later, and she could feel his tremors from inside her, and nearly cried from the emotions of the moment, the way he grabbed onto her leg as if he never wanted to let her go.
Reality set in some time later. Not in the form of regret, or even embarrassment. But in the form of a rather large pebble beneath her bare shoulder. She shifted a little, and Mulder sighed, his head laid against her breasts.
“I wonder what will be harder to explain. Our visit to the strip club, or being naked out in someone’s pasture.” She laughed at his dry comment, and then reached her hands up, cupping his face and kissing him gently, savoring the taste of him.
“I’m not sure, Mulder,” she finally answered, pulling away. “But I think someone here owes me a strip tease, and I am ready to collect.”
END
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