Autopsy Fun Series by KirstenK

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  1. Autopsy Fun
  2. Autopsy Fun Continued
  3. Autopsy Fun For Real
  4. Autopsy Fun Aftermath

Autopsy Fun

From: KirstenK <>

Date: Fri, 26 Jul 2002 06:38:23 -0700 (PDT)

Subject: New story submission

Source: direct

TITLE: “Autopsy Fun”

AUTHOR: KirstenK * <>



SPOILERS: Tiny bitty one for the Pilot. General timeline: about season 8 (no pregnancy though)

SUMMARY: With a serial killer on the loose, Scully gets her chance to shine.

DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Why would I be the lucky one, huh? They belong to CC, DD, GA, 1013 and Fox and no infringement is intended.

ARCHIVING: Sure. I’ll do Gossamer myself, all others: you’re welcome when you tell me where it’s going, ‘kay?

FEEDBACK: Cherished and worshipped at <>. Mulders on offer for those who write!


21 July, 4:52 pm

Here we go again. Autopsy number … ah man, I don’t know. I’ve lost count.

We’re in a little town in upstate Oklahoma which would never have made it into the newspaper headlines if it hadn’t been for some strange … something … preying on the local population for the last three weeks or so, leaving their bodies is various states of hamburger.

The one I get to work on this time, however, is in remarkably good condition. Well, he could be identified anyway, which was an indication that whatever killed this man may have been interrupted. That, however, is not my concern.

“Subject’s name is Marco James Margolis. Male, six foot two in length, weighing 182 pounds,” I drone into the microphone hanging above my head. I’m developing a back-ache here and I could do with some more sleep. After two days Mulder and I even decided to take separate rooms, to make sure we got at least some sleep. The local P.D. is getting increasingly nervous because of the failure to apprehend the killer and has turned this into a 24/7 investigation. Mulder and I are running on totally different shifts.

“Injuries include three cuts to the calves, a single stabwound in the right thigh and severe bruising around the larynx. Also …” I turn the man’s body slightly onto his side to look at the back. Yep, all there. ” … also the seven slash marks across the spine. Subject appears to have died from asphyxiation, probably strangling. I will now proceed to do the Y-incision.”

I sigh, resting my hands on the cold steel. Man, I’m getting sick and tired of this. I want to leave this God-forsaken town, go home. Take a bath. I feel like I’m never going to get rid of the smell of formaldehyde and dead bodies. The morgue is surprisingly state-of-the-art, but in such a small town, so isolated from other bigger towns, it just can’t cope with the virtual avalanche of bodies. Forget about respect for the dead, we’ve already crammed up to three bodies together in spaces designed for only one. It’s either this or they’ll start to seriously smell. Luckily, some bodies are in such states of mince-meat that they allow for smaller containers …

I need to get out of here. But I need to complete this autopsy before I can even contemplate having a break. I grab my scalpel from the table. Let’s see some blood and gore …


The sun is mercilessly pounding on my head as I walk across the sand-swept town square, on my way to my air-conditioned motel room. I need a shower and a lie-down.

“Hey,” I hear behind me. It’s Mulder, looking hot and dusty. I stop so he doesn’t have to run. It’s way too hot to run.

“Hey yourself. How’s it going?” I ask when he’s reached me. Together we walk back to the motel.

“Terrible,” he says. “I don’t know what we’ve got here, Scully. I just can’t figure this thing out. It kills with such randomness, almost as if it picks the first person who happens to be walking by.”

“I can’t see a relation between the victims either. Men, women, children. It doesn’t seem to add up.”

“Anyway, did this last guy have those seven slashes on his back?”

“Yup, they were all there. But he was strangled,” I answer.

“The one before that was shot, wasn’t he? And the two victims before that were stabbed to death.” He sighs. “Ah man, I just can’t see a pattern here!”

“Maybe that is the pattern,” I mutter. I’m hot, my back hurts, and I could do with a massage. “No pattern.”

He smiles. “You’re tired, aren’t you?”

I nod. “How about you? You’ve been up and running for days on end as well.”

He shrugs. “Yeah, well, I …”

“Let’s call it quits for the day,” I suggest. “We’ve been working hard enough. Let’s go find a restaurant, have a decent dinner for a change and go to bed early. We’re not going to be much use to them if we just keep going on and then keel over with fatigue in a day or two.”

He smiles. “You’re right. You decide where we’re going to eat, I’ll call Sheriff Hardenbrook and tell him we’re taking tonight off.


22 July, 7:27 am

I wake up feeling unusually refreshed. I roll over in my bed and spend a moment just lying and thinking, before I turn over and hit my travel alarm clock. I’d set it for 7:30 but there’s no need now for the shrill beeping to interrupt this quiet summer morning. I think it rained last night, the air smells fresh.

Mulder and I decided to use our own rooms tonight, even when there was strictly speaking no real reason for it. But we knew we needed every second of sleep we could get. I feel alone though and I think I’m suffering from withdrawal effects.

Allowing myself a groan of self-pity I get out of bed. As I pass the mirror over the vanity I see the bags under my eyes. I fear they’re never going to go away. I want to go home …

I’ve just put on my robe to take a shower when someone knocks on my door.

“Mulder? What’s going on?”

He’s dressed in running shorts and a very sweaty tee shirt. He shouldn’t do this to me now at this time of forced celibacy. “Just had a word with Hardenbrook. There’s been another murder.” He’s jumping from one foot to the other to keep his leg muscles from cramping. No doubt he’s been up and about for at least an hour.

I moan. “Another one? Does this thing never sleep?”

“Apparently not. They need you in the morgue,” he says. He stands still, his expression serious now. “This is getting ridiculous. I don’t know what to do.”

I yawn. “Neither do I, but I’ll be in the morgue in half an hour. Just gimme time to shower, dress and have a bit of breakfast, okay?”

He grins, again jumping up and down. He looks years younger. “Okay, I’ll come by sometime this morning to see what you got.”

I nod. “Good morning, Mulder,” I smile. He winks and jogs away. I think I just had a modified dj vu …


“Subject is female, approximately 40 years of age, weighing 130 pounds. Length:” I run the tape measure along her body to check, “5 foot 7. Visual injuries include three crushed toes, bruises on the left leg and around the waist. Face has been mutilated beyond recognition. There are the obligatory seven slashes along her spine. Appears to have died from multiple stabwounds to the heart and throat, facial damage was probably inflicted post-mortem. No obvious signs of any form of sexual assault, which is not surprising in this case.”

I look at the mangled remains of this woman. I think she was a beautiful woman when she was still alive, but not much of her beauty has been left intact by the monster that took her life. She has not been identified, but it has become very difficult to find people to come forward and identify the corpses. There are rumours about an ‘evil eye’ going round the town and, to be quite frank, I’m beginning to lose my feeling of disbelief. People are scared to come forward, scared they’ll be next.

Although, an ‘evil eye’? These stabwounds do look familiar …

I switch the microphone off and leave the body, which is not going anywhere anyway, and take the folder I have been using to keep my autopsy results in. I think I’m beginning to see a connection, a pattern and I hope I’m not mistaken.

“June 5, cause of death: garotting. June 12, cause of death: gunshot to the base of the skull. Okay. June 15, cause of death: hanging, apparently a suicide. Don’t think so. We had one of those last week. June 17, cause of death: stabbing. June 26, cause of death: stabbing. June 30, cause of death: gunshot in the chest!” Oh man, this is adding up! I feel my heart rate increase and my adrenaline pumping as I, finally, see the circle, the connection. “July 2, cause of death: gunshot wound to the throat. That was a messy one, just like … yes … like last week’s victim … July 3, cause of death: strangulation! July 5, cause of death: stabwounds to the heart and throat! Oh Jesus, this can’t be a coincidence! Even the areas where they were found are a perfect match!”

I make a bee line for the phone in the tiny office behind the examination room, dialling Mulder’s cell phone. My hands are shaking with excitement.


“Mulder, it’s me. I need to see you right now in the morgue,” I say, trying to keep my voice calm.

“Right now?” he asks. “I’m kinda busy, but if … I’m on my way.”

“Thanks, see you in a minute.”


“Hey, Scully, what have you got?”

I look at the door and see Mulder enter. I get up from the chair, putting the folder to the side. I’ve been studying the autopsy reports, checking and double checking my suspicions and they seem to add up. This could be the break we were waiting for.

“I think there is a connection,” I say, leading him to the desk where the folder is. “And I think we even can predict where the killer is going to strike next.”

“We can? How?”

I spread out the results before him. It takes no time at all for him to see the link. “He’s working a circular pattern, instead of linear one. No wonder we didn’t see it right away.” When he looks up at me I can see sparkles in his eyes. It’s a nice change from the quiet despair I was getting used to seeing. “But we don’t know when he’s going to strike next, do we?”

I take a deep breath. “I’m afraid not. But our best chances are to stake out the place where, according to last time’s murder, he’s most likely to strike again. That is, if we’re not too late already.”

He smiles. “It’s the best we can work with. Hardenbrook is going to be pleased, he was getting pissed off about this guy killing his people right under his nose.” He takes out his cell phone and a moment later I hear him talk to sheriff Hardenbrook. I gather up the reports and put them back in the folder. We may need them in court later and at the very least I’ll need them for our field report.

“They’re on their way,” Mulder says, putting his phone back in his coat pocket. Then, quite unexpectedly, he draws me to him and kisses me. I yelp with surprise, but I can’t say I want to protest. “God, you’re fantastic. I’m so proud of you!”

I smile widely. “That is something I never thought I’d hear from you,” I say.

He looks surprised. “No doubt I’ve told you that before, haven’t I?”

I shake my head, a bit sad. “No, I would’ve remembered.”

He gathers me to him. I’m glad I had the foresight to take off my blood-stained shrubs and gloves while I was waiting for him to come to the morgue. “I’ve been a self-obsessed bastard if I never told you how fantastic you are,” he says. “That’s gotta change.”

We smile at each other. Then he takes a deep breath. “I think I’d better join Hardenbrook and his men. I want to cuff this ass-hole myself for all the trouble he’s been giving us.”

“I’m going to finish this lady’s autopsy and clean up,” I say, getting a new apron and gloves from the box by the desk. The rest of my stuff is near the autopsy table. “Be careful.”

“I will,” he smiles. “I want to be alive for a little celebration tonight!”

I smile, watching him leave the morgue. Then, with a sigh, I return to the corpse, still waiting patiently for my examination.

“Well,” I say to the dead woman, “I’m sorry we couldn’t help you, but hopefully you’ll have peace knowing it may be you who made us catch the one who killed you.” I take a deep breath and reach for the scalpel. Then I switch the microphone back on. “I will now continue my examination, starting with the Y-incision.”


I’ve just sewn the woman’s body back up when the door to the examination room is flung open.

“Scully, consider yourself the hero of this town,” Mulder grins, taking me in his arms, then letting go, spotting my apron that’s stained with blood and bits of intestine. “Eww …”

“Thanks for the compliment,” I smile. “Let me just change out of these bloody clothes.”

He chuckles. “Be quick. The sheriff wants to congratulate you.”

“So do you apparently,” I smile, walking into the dressing room behind the small office. I change out of my autopsy gear and back into my suit in record-breaking time. I’m feeling elated. Could it be that they have actually caught him?

When I re-enter the examination room, Mulder has been joined by at least half a dozen other men, among whom sheriff Hardenbrook and deputy Bowman.

“Agent Scully, congratulations,” Hardenbrook says, shaking my hand. “It is unbelievable what you’ve achieved.”

“Did you get him?” I ask, still a bit amazed that I actually saw this link.

“Yes, we got him,” Mulder smiles. “He went right where you told us he would go. We sent out officer Miller as bait and he walked straight into our hands.” He grins at a handsome young officer to his left who’s holding an ice-pack to his head. “We got there in time, but Miller did receive a blow to his head.” I see the man smile, but it’s not whole-heartedly. I wonder if he was expecting to be serial-killer-bait the day he decided to join local law enforcement.

“This town owes you a great deal of gratitude, Agent Scully,” Hardenbrook says. “I am sure we could not have solved this quite as quickly without your excellent help.”

I’m getting a bit overwhelmed by the attention and compliments. “Who was it?”

“Gabriel Westerfield,” Mulder replies. “He used to work at the local off-license until he was fired at the end of May for helping himself to money from the till. Apparently his wife never suspected a thing about her husband’s murderous instincts. She told us he was in the habit of going out on trips by himself at all times of the day and night. Think he went a little crazy after he got the sack and seemed bent on revenge.”

“He’s not talking,” deputee Bowman adds, “but we’ll get a confession from him.”

I nod. Maybe they will. Suddenly I’m bone-tired. With the adrenaline flow on a sudden halt I feel the lack of sleep and the strain of those long hours crash down onto me. I need a good long soak in a tub and some fresh air.

“I’d like to get changed,” I say softly. I’m glad only Mulder can see how tired I am.

“Yes, we’ll wrap this up in the morning,” he says. With his hand in its customary place on the small of my back, he ushers me through the small group of men. I can’t deny feeling rather pleased with the looks of admiration I receive. It makes a nice change from the looks Mulder and I usually get when we’re walking round the Hoover.

“It went just as we thought it would,” he says when we’re outside. The sun is merciless as ever and I can feel the first drops of sweat run down my back.

“How did you survive in this heat?” I ask, looking at him.

He grins. “You don’t want to see the inside of my shirt collars,” he answers. “I’ve ruined these shirts for good.”

I smile. “You think we could slip into something a little more casual?”

He nods. “I guess so. The case is over, isn’t it? We just need to file the necessary paperwork and go back home. Technically speaking we’re off duty now.”

“Yes, certainly for today,” I smile, walking into my motel room. It’s nice and cool in here. Mulder stops in the doorway. “You can come in.”

He walks in and sits down next to me on the bed. For a moment we just smile at each other, then I let myself fall back onto the bed, closing my eyes and letting out a sigh of relief. Ah man, this is really nice …

“You were fabulous today,” Mulder says, looking at me.

“Don’t overdo it, Mulder,” I grin, but I’m touched by his words. Compliments from Fox Mulder are a rare thing indeed and there’s little that can boost my ego more than a word of admiration from my partner.

He chuckles. “It’s a fact that I can hardly deny, Scully. If it hadn’t been for your insight, who knows how many more victims he could’ve made. You solved this case, no one else.”

I smile. “Never knew doing an autopsy could be this rewarding. Or this much fun.” Then I stretch and roll off the bed. “I’m going to take a shower. I suggest you do the same and we’ll change into something more suitable for this climate.” I get up from the bed and grab my towel. Then, as I walk past, I bend down and kiss him. “Thanks for the compliment.”

“Nothing you didn’t deserve, Scully,” he smiles, getting up as well and walking into his own room. I have a feeling we won’t be spending tonight in two separate beds.


It’s nice walking round a town that is so clearly in total awe of my achievement. I’ve changed into a pair of loose linen pants and a top and I have just bought a big-rimmed hat to shield me from the sun. Although, I didn’t exactly buy it, I got the hat for free. The guy behind the counter insisted I should take it without paying for it and there was no trying to convince him otherwise. It would have been embarrassing if I didn’t already feel so good.

“Nice hat, Agent Scully,” I hear behind me. I turn around and see Mulder come up to me. He’s grinning.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t have anything to protect me from the sun,” I smile. “You look nice, too.”

He looks down at his clothes. Gone are the suit and tie. They’ve been replaced by worker pants and a Tommy tee shirt. “Gotta adapt to the climate, right?”

I nod. “Suppose so, yes. Where have you been?”

“I’ve just been checking up with Hardenbrook. He’s officially given us the day off, but I wanted to know if Westerfield had revealed anything.”

“And had he?”

He shakes his head. “Nope, hasn’t said a word since the arrest. Except for a complaint about the disgraceful way a law-abiding citizen like himself was being treated.”

“Law-abiding citizen?” I say with disbelief, unable to hold back a laugh.

“We had just as hard a laugh about that as you have,” he grins. “Anyway, we’re expected in the townhall at eight tonight. I think they want to address the population, explain to them what has happened and that the bad guy has been caught.”

“Why should we be there?”

He shrugs. “Dunno. But there isn’t much of a night-life in this Podunk-town anyway, so we might as well go, right?”

I have to admit it is probably the only bit of entertainment we’ll get. “I hope they won’t make it too late. I want to hit the sack early tonight, catch up on lost sleep.”

“Don’t worry, it won’t be me who’s keeping you up tonight,” he smiles.

“It won’t?” I ask.

He laughs. “Let’s keep that kind of entertainment for when we’re stocked up on energy, shall we?”

I laugh, resisting the urge to put my arm round his waist. We may have gotten the rest of the day off, but we still can’t display too much familiarity. Skinner may know we’re involved but it’s no use having sheriff Hardenbrook reporting to the Bureau how proud he was of this lovely couple. We’d get questions we’d rather avoid right now. I can’t resist lacing my fingers through his, not quite holding hands but touching nevertheless.

“This looks like a nice place for lunch,” I say when I spot the local diner. I’m starving. I skipped breakfast this morning to get to work on the woman’s corpse and it’s almost four in the afternoon. I’ve been supporting myself on adrenaline and an orange and I seem to have depleted that source of energy.

We walk into the diner and the waitress rushes up to greet us. “Agent Scully, Agent Mulder, so pleased to see you. Come right this way!”

I see Mulder grin as I try to hide a slight blush. “Actually,” I tell her, “these people came in before us.”

“No no, don’t worry about us,” the elderly man smiles, indicating we should follow the waitress. We don’t seem to have a choice …

“Judging by the way we’re treated as federal law enforcement, you’d say they’ve never had a crime up here in their lives,” Mulder smiles as we sit by the window, overlooking an impressive piece of scenery.

“Lucky town,” I say softly.

In record time the waitress returns with our orders. “It’s on the house,” she says, flashing us a grin.

“I must say this is excellent service,” Mulder says.

“Well, it’s not every time we get to serve heroes,” the girl says, obviously very excited she’s serving us. “Bon appetit!”

Perhaps she should take some lessons in French, I think, smiling at her. She turns on her heels and continues to help the other customers who are getting a far less rapid service.

“This is getting a bit creepy,” I say, tasting my lasagna. It’s pretty good.

Mulder chuckles. “Yeah. If they’re getting up in a minute and start doing the hokey-pokey, I’m outta here!”

I laugh. “Well, at least the food is real.”


22 July, 10:12 pm

I’m sitting on the edge of my bed, feeling entirely too exhausted to sleep. Too wired, too strung-up. I’ve taken a shower in an attempt to calm down, but it hasn’t helped. This is the weirdest investigation ever.

“You should be asleep,” I hear Mulder say as he enters my room.

“So should you,” I counter, softening my words with a smile.

He grins. “Yep, I should. I came in to see whether you were asleep or if I could perhaps steal a good-night kiss from a local heroine.”

I laugh. “This is the first time I’ve ever received a medal for bravery and merit. And all I did was do my job.”

He sits down beside me on the bed. He smells clean and fresh with just a touch of himself mixed in. “You did, but this was no ordinary case. And it’s nice to see people appreciate what we do.”

I scoot closer to him so I’m touching his side fully. “It is. Though the attention we got today was getting unnerving.”

He chuckles. “‘Agent Scully, Agent Mulder, *so* honoured to see you’,” he imitates what we’ve been hearing all afternoon. “Did you notice they mentioned your name before mine every time?”

“Do I detect a hint of jealousy, Agent Mulder?”

He smiles. “Absolutely not. Like I said, I’m only proud. Can I tell you one last time how fantastic you were?”

I’ve told him not to compliment me anymore because it was making me nervous, but what damage can it do to have him tell me one more time?

“Okay, tell me one last time how good I’ve been,” I say softly.

He draws me onto his lap so I’m straddling him. I wrap my arms loosely around his neck. “You were amazing today and there’s no one who deserves that medal more than you do.”

I smile widely, more than a little touched. I thought I was immune by now, but nothing could be farther from the truth.

“Thank you,” I say softly.

“No, I mean it. Usually I get to solve the cases and give the answers, but without your scientific evidence I doubt whether I could draw the conclusions in even as much as 25% of the cases. But it’s never you who gets the credit. It’s nice to see you stand in the limelight for a change, get all the credit which you fully deserve.”

“Don’t get all soft on me, Mulder,” I whisper, feeling teary-eyed.

He laughs softly. “Just today, Scully, just today.”

I smile and lean in, closing my mouth over his lower lip, suckling softly. I smile widely when I let go.

“You want a little private celebration?” he whispers. I nod happily. “All right, let me show you how proud I am of you.”

I think I can go without sleep for a little longer after all …



The Netherlands, 26 July 2002 (c)


Autopsy Fun Continued

From: KirstenK <>

Date: Thu, 19 Sep 2002 15:09:46 -0700 (PDT)

Subject: New story submission

Source: direct

TITLE: “Autopsy fun continued”

AUTHOR: KirstenK * RATING: NC-17. Smut smut smut




SUMMARY: Continues where ‘Autopsy Fun’ left off

DISCLAIMER: Yeah, like CC would let them have this much fun ??????? In short: they’re not mine and I’m not making any money off them.

FEEDBACK: If you loved reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it, then I’d love to hear from you.


WARNING: Smut smut smut smut smut smut smut. You may want to back off if you’re under-age and certainly if your parents are watching …


“Can I tell you one last time how fantastic you were?” I say, looking at my heroic partner. Man, I’ve always been proud of her, but today was a record.

“Okay, tell me one last time how good I’ve been,” she says softly, smiling that Mona Lisa smile of hers that blows my mind.

I draw her onto my lap so she’s straddling me. Her arms rest loosely around my neck. “You were amazing today and there’s no one who deserves that medal more than you do.”

She smiles widely, and it seems like she’s really touched by my words. I have been such an ass not to have told her before how fabulous she is.

“Thank you,” she says, her voice soft and tender.

“No, I mean it,” I go on. “Usually I get to solve the cases and give the answers, but without your scientific evidence I doubt whether I could draw the conclusions in even as much as 25% of the cases. But it’s never you who gets the credit. It’s nice to see you stand in the limelight for a change, get all the credit which you fully deserve.”

“Don’t get all soft on me, Mulder,” she whispers, obviously a bit blown by the compliments I just can’t stop giving her. I laugh softly at her comment.

“Just today, Scully, just today.”

She smiles and leans in, closing that cherry mouth over my lower lip, suckling softly. I want to moan with the heady sensation, not to mention with the acute shortage of blood in my brain. A certain part of my anatomy is more than ready for a party.

“You want a little private celebration?” I whisper and I’m glad to see her enthusiastic nod. “All right, let me show you how proud I am of you.”

I lie us both down and for a moment we just smile at each other. Then, virtually simultaneously, we lean in for a kiss. It starts out innocent enough, but very quickly heats up. She’s on top of me before I even notice it.

Her smile is wide and infectious. “You ready to party, handsome?” she says, but it looks like, no matter what my answer would be, she’s already decided for me as she starts pulling my tee shirts from my jeans. I’m glad I showered just fifteen minutes ago so I’m all nice and clean. Actually I’m looking forward to taking another one in no such a long time from now, but I won’t be alone then. That is one thing I’m completely certain about.

“You’re not giving me much of a choice, beautiful,” I counter with a grin, equally eagerly pushing her skinny top up to above her breasts. She’s going to have to help me take it off altogether, but that doesn’t mean I can’t get to play a little.

“Damn right I’m not,” she replies, her voice low and husky. Just the tone in her voice sends sparks whizzing down my spine. I take the hem of my tee shirt and whip it over my head and away. Wouldn’t want to put any obstacle in her way when she’s in a mood like this.

She grabs my hands and puts them on her breasts. That is one hint I can take.

“Ah, yeah … Oh, Mulder, this looks so good …” she breathes. “Do you know how much seeing your hands on my breasts turns me on?”

Probably not as much as it turns me on, I think, as I sit up, sliding the silky cups up to release her breasts. She’s so perfect in every possible way. Too bad I hardly match up. But in her eyes I seem to be a virtual Adonis. Which is good, because she’s my own personal Aphrodite and always has been.

Her hand reaches behind her and a moment later the cups fall away from my hands, lying uselessly across my wrists. I flick them away. They’re pretty enough, but highly superfluous in this current situation.

Her eyes are dark and her lips are a bit apart. She panting lightly and I can feel the heat from her core right through the crotch of my jeans. She has the most gorgeous flush on her cheeks and her lips are red like coral. They need a kiss. Badly.

With my hands still playing with her breasts and nipples, I close my mouth over hers. Her hands fly up to my face, holding me in place while we kiss with near feverish need. Our kiss is deep and wet and so hot it would melt steel.

“Jesus, Mulder,” she pants. She actually looks out of breath, but I have a feeling she’s just getting started here. This woman of mine is never short of stamina when it comes to sex. She pulls her top over her head and dumps it unceremoniously on the floor. I grin. It’s not often one gets to see the meticulous Dana Scully throwing her clothes all over the place. I’m glad I could help I guess.

Her fingers are currently unbuckling my belt and opening my jeans. I’m watching her actions. It’s unbelievably arousing, seeing and feeling her tiny strong hands move swiftly across my crotch.

“Oh, yes …” she mutters as she frees my cock from its denim prison. “Hello, my friend …” she adds, stroking me through the cotton of my boxers. I lift my hips slightly so I can push my jeans down my legs. She’s not helping me, preoccupied as she seems by my erection. I like your choice in toys, Scully … I shake the jeans off, just in time for her to free me from my boxershorts.

“You can take them off, you know,” I say with a smile. The wicked look she cuts me makes me grow even harder. I’m in big trouble here I fear …

“Yeah, I could,” she says enigmatically, just before she bends down and begins to lick me from the base to the tip. Just once, but it’s almost too much already. She looks so wanton, dressed in just her cut-offs and nothing else, her hair fanning out over the top of my thighs. Any other woman would look like the lowest of sluts in these circumstances, but not Dana Scully. She’s keeping her dignity even when giving me a blow-job like this. And a pretty damn impressive one it is, too …

Ah hell, this is going too fast. Way too fast … I can feel the tension coiling in my balls as I grow even harder and bigger — and if she goes on for just a bit longer all the fun will be over in one embarrassingly quick jolt.

“Aahhh … Scul — ly … you need … ah! …to stop …” I pant, clenching my teeth to enforce some control over myself.

“You’re probably right,” she grins, her eyes dark and glimmering, her rosy lips glistening with her saliva. I let my head drop back on the pillow, grateful in a masochistic way for some relief. I’m still so damn close to release here, but I think I can keep teetering just a little bit longer without tumbling over the edge.

“… I may not … last very long now … Dana …” I pant, my eyes still closed. I hear the metallic sound of a zipper and the soft ‘shoosh’ of fabric against skin. I don’t feel any change myself so I can only imagine she’s taken her clothes off. I groan with the renewed wave of arousal that centres in my groin with that image. I’m harder than I’ve ever been before. All thanks to Dana Scully. But who else?

“Shall I take those off?” she asks, surprisingly sweetly. I drag my eyes open to see her fingering the waistband of my boxers. Her eyes are nothing like the sweet tone in her voice. They’re home to wickedness in person.

I laugh. “Scully, I’m supposed to be making you feel good, not the other way round!”

She lifts the elastic round my cock and slides the boxershorts down my legs and away before she answers. Then she slowly climbs on top of me until her centre is right over me. I can feel its wet heat engulfing me.

“You’re doing a damn fine job of making me feel good, handsome,” she says, her voice low and gravelly. “You wanna come inside?”

Ah Jesus!! I hiss between clenched teeth at her remark. Forget about teetering on the edge, I’m hanging by a bit of weeds halfway down the cliff already!

“I’ll take that as a yes, then,” she murmurs, just as I feel her burning-hot wetness slide down my cock. Ah Christ, how am I supposed to hold still now? No man on earth could ever be expected to just try and last. But I want to. This has to be good for her, too. I think I deserve a fucking medal, too. For service rendered above and waaay beyond the call of duty.

I grab her hips in my hands, giving up on trying to keep still. There’s only so much a man can do.

“Yeah, move those hips, Mulder …” she says a breathy voice, “… fill me up …”

She sounds like a bad porno movie, but I don’t give a damn right now. All I hear is the screaming in my ears and the blood that is pumping around trying to keep up. Forget it, this is beyond anything my heart can muster.

She can’t come in this position, I know it and I hate it, but it’s beyond me to do anything about it now.

“I … ah man … I want you to … come too …” I manage to force out. All single syllables, I know, but what more could be expected of a man who was making love to this woman?

“Just … just tip upwards a bit … yesss!!”

She has changed her position on top of me only a little bit, but the effect is phenomenal. She goes wild, just absolutely wild, screaming and moaning without any inhibitions. I’d be watching her if her core hadn’t just heated up even more and her walls weren’t spasming around me and my blood was screaming in my veins and my cock didn’t just harden so much it hurt and …

I can’t hold back now and I clutch her to me, letting out some animal howl as I fill her up with my sperm. Jesus Christ, I have never ever made a deposit this big …

“Oh God … this was gooood …” she grins, her eyes closed in an expression that yells satisfaction. Her arms are clumsily wrapped round my neck, shaking and shifting with an adorable lack of muscle co-ordination that seems to have followed out little adventure.

I grin. “Yeah … yeah, it was …” I’m out of breath, out of energy, but I just can’t stop hugging her. I feel my cock become limp and I slowly draw out of her. We collapse on the bed, lying side by side in a hot tight embrace.

“You know what I’ve always wanted?” she smiles, her eyes hot and glittering.

“What?” I ask as I start nibbling her neck. She has that perfect little spot there where she tastes so good. She’ll have the hickey to end all hickeys, but at least I know it was me who put it there. I feel wonderfully territorial here.

“Sex in the autopsy bay.”

I laugh. “You must be joking!”

She shakes her head, grinning widely. “No, really,” she says, lowering her voice to a sexy whisper in my ear. “Sometimes — no, many times, when I was doing an autopsy and you were there in the background, watching me, I would think of how it would be if you’d just walk up to me without saying anything, place your hands on my body under my shrubs and just take me then and there. Hard on the autopsy table …”

“You really are a piece of work, aren’t you, Agent Scully?” I laugh, my words softened by my expression. But the truth is that I’ve grown hard again, just by listening to her fantasy. Maybe it’s sick and depraved, but I want to do it. I want to have sex with her in a morgue.

“Having you with me during those autopsies really turns me on,” she whispers. “Sometimes I was so wet and aroused I could hardly concentrate on that stupid corpse. All I could think was of how you would feel inside me, so big and hot and hard, stretching me and making me so hot, your hands playing with my breasts, just fucking me so hard I’d set off the alarm with my screams.”

I’m rock hard again and I can smell her arousal in the air around us, mixing with my own. My cock is just begging me to get the hell inside her and I want to give in.

“How would you want me to fuck you then,” I ask in a hoarse whisper, my tongue having found her nipples and eliciting the most gorgeous moans from her.

She pulls away before I realise her intentions and I can’t help whimpering in protest. Then I audibly growl with lust as she rises on all fours, literally offering herself to me to be taken from behind.

I can’t help myself now, I just have to be inside her so badly. Call it what you want, but no jury would ever convict me. I position myself behind her, taking her hips in my hands and sliding in deeper than I have ever been before. She’s so wet I slide in without any trouble. When I’m buried to the hilt, we both let out sighs of relief. This is life, this is perfect.

“I would … I … yesss yes right … there …” she sighs, meeting every single one of my thrusts with one of her own. “… I’d let you … take me … like … aahhh … this …”

I want to answer her, but I just can’t. There are limits to what can be expected of me in certain situations — and this is a prime example of when I really can’t say anything.

I feel her hand snaking under her, touching my cock as it slides in and out ever more quickly, and swiping at her clitoris. She’s bringing herself off and it’s the most arousing thought I can imagine.

It’s my clue to let go of my control as well, knowing she’s on the verge, too. Our screams and moans and sighs blend together in a fantastic symphony as we rush ourselves over the cliff, not letting anything hold us back. We want to come and, God, I’m coming so hard I can feel every muscles contract and every nerve short-circuiting.

“Ohh … oh God …!!!” she screams under me as her vagina starts to contract around my erection. Her spasms are the last straw and I give one last massive thrust before the whole world spins on its axis.

God help me if I can remember what I screamed, but I can only hear the keening of my breath in my lungs, and the pounding of my heart in my ears.

I have one brief clear moment when I realise I’ll be crushing her when I’ll let myself fall down on top of her so I let myself fall sideways as we both collapse under our own weight. Man, I’m gonna need some major recovery time now … Two such epoch-making orgasms in such quick succession. Hey, I’m definitely proud of myself, but there is a drawback, and that is that I will need a bit of a time-out now. Which doesn’t mean that I can’t give her some joy and pleasure …

She’s giggling beside me. Giggling uncontrolably. It’s a rare sound, but I find I’m loving every second of it. Adrenaline-rushes are wonderful things, especially when they’re the result of some really majorly well-performed sex.

I gather her to me for some kisses. They’re wet and hot and rather sloppy because we just can’t stop laughing, but who cares? Oh man, I have never been this uninhibited and carefree after sex.

“Sex on the autopsy table, huh?” I grin. I really can’t stop grinning. I know I’m gonna have sore cheeks in a few hours, but then I push that thought aside, realising how sad and pathetic a thought it really is. We don’t laugh nearly enough and the penalty is having sore cheeks when we do. Well, too bad.

“Yeah,” she says, smiling broadly. “I get really turned on by the idea.”

“So that’s why you chose to be a forensic pathologist,” I smile, a mischievous glint shining in my eyes. “To be surrounded by dead people all the time.”

She scrunched up her nose adorably. “You make me sound really sick, Mulder.” Then she shakes her head, climbing on top of me. “You know what it is about doing an autopsy that really makes me wet?”

I look up in her smoky blue eyes. “What?”

“Having a six-foot hunk of a partner standing in that very same room behind me, dressed so conservatively, but knowing how good he really is in bed. Knowing that nobody will be disturbing us. And knowing that we have all the privacy in the world to rip our clothes off and fuck each other senseless without a chance of people walking in. That’s what really gets my fantasies rolling …”

I nod slowly, just once. “Really.”


I place my hand between her shoulder blades and gently pull her down so she lies on top of me. “We’re flying home again tomorrow.”

“I know. What about it?”

“There is another workplace no one dares to enter, you know.”

“And what place might that be, Agent Mulder?”

“How many people would voluntarily — really voluntarily — go down to our office?” I smile, knowing I have a really strong point there.

She kisses me softly before answering. “Skinner would.”

I laugh. There goes my point, straight down the gutter. “Yes, he would, wouldn’t he? Well, we’ll just have to work around him then.”

“You plan on having sex in the office?” she grins.

“Absolutely,” I say and I mean it. Man, just the idea of having sex with my gorgeous partner on my desk or going down on her as she sits in my chair or having her give me one of her unbelievable blow-jobs or … just fill in any fantasy and I’ll be willing to go along. I get so fucking hard just thinking about it. “I want to christen the room in any way we can.” I kiss her hard and demanding, justifiably smug when she comes up breathless. “I want to fuck you senseless in the office,” I say hoarsely.

She groans, her eyes slipping shut. “Oh man …” she breathes. Her skin flushes under my gaze and I realise these words are turning her on big time. “Oh … you make me feel so …”

“So … what?” I whisper, witnessing her arousal with fascination.

“So wet …” she moans with closed eyes, her fingers clawing softly at my shoulders. I don’t know why, but the scene before me is heating me up as well. Unfortunately not enough to really get some action going, but I know other ways of making her feel good.

I roll us over so I’m on top of her, careful not to let my whole weight rest on her body. She’s so tiny and I don’t want to crush her.

I let my fingers wander through her folds, silently amazed at the copious wetness I find there. I never thought any woman could get turned on this much and, if I can permit myself such a depreciating notion, certainly not by me. But it’s one hell of an ego-boost to know that I really can make a woman this hot. Or at least one woman. Thank God that woman is the same person who can make me hard enough to cut re-inforced concrete …

I hold my wet fingers up to her lips and she smiles, opening her mouth and licking my fingers dry in a fashion so sensual it knocks the breath right out of me. Then, freeing my fingers from her mouth, I proceed to slowly travel down that divine petite body of hers.

Everything about her is just so perfect, isn’t it? Every curve is a work of art, every freckle or birthmark a true beauty mark. An artist couldn’t have chosen a better place for them. And the softness of her skin, man, it would make silk feel like sandpaper. I want to taste every line, every dip, every slope of her body, trace it with my lips and tongue, make it mine, thoroughly familiarise myself with it. Thank God for an eidetic memory.

I love the slight soft swell of her belly, it’s so Goddamn feminine and sensual. If she ever plans on trying to get rid of it I’m gonna stop her from doing so.

But the best prize still is to be allowed to taste her, to taste her essence, feel the soft plumpness of her lips, the wet heat on my lips and tongue, that tight bundle of nerves that’s enthusiastically poking from her folds, asking me for a share in the attention. Don’t worry, little thing, you’re my very best friend because you can make the woman I love more than life itself feel so so good …

I can tell by her movements and by the sounds she’s making that she’s rapidly reaching her climax. It’s a good one as far as I can tell. A really good one. Score one for me, I think with not a little satisfaction.

I’m suckling her, licking her, alternately focusing on her clitoris, then fucking her with my tongue. Above me she’s thrashing around, letting out the most gorgeous sounds of arousal I have ever had the pleasure to hear. I have become completely erect again and I really want to just pound into her, but I tell, nay, order myself to be patient. This one is about her. She’s in charge, my role at this moment is only to bring her pleasure and focus entirely on her completion. Not to let my own feelings interfere or, God forbid, take the upper hand. I’m her servant, she’s my mistress, she’s the boss. She is in charge because I want her to be.

I’m nearly moved to tears when I feel her orgasm rip through her. Her clitoris and her labia grow even more engorged as her vagina begins to contract wildly. I feel the rhythmic spasms, her body trying desperately to bring in as much of the sperm that isn’t there. I need to be in her so badly. I nearly scream with the need to sheath myself deeply within her.

I feel her centre calm down, and her legs aren’t shaking as much. Oh God, please let her be ready for me, I won’t be able to control myself for much longer …

I crawl up her body, positioning myself so the tip of my cock is directly in front of her vagina. I need permission or I won’t do it, but Scully, please!

Her hand lands on my butt, giving me the slightest of pushes. It’s all the permission I need before I sink into her, blissful and utterly relieved.

It’s a haze, our love-making. I’m already half-blind with arousal, half-deaf with the roaring of the blood in my ears. My senses have taken on a new level of priority — I can feel everything. And I mean every single thing. It’s unbelievable. I can’t see, I can’t hear, but I can feel, smell, taste everything. I’ve been altered at a truly basic level, and it’s certainly not for the worse.

I come way before she does, having been so hard and so close already before I could finally enter her, but it’s okay. She actually has to help herself to climax, but I don’t feel bad because of it. She just had an earth-rocking orgasm, I’m surprised she could actually have another one so quickly afterwards.

We float together in each other’s arms, lazily and blissfully resting on a soft cloud of sex-induced ecstasy.

“So this is what one week of enforced celibacy can do to a person …” she smiles.

I grin. “It would almost make it worthwhile.”

She kisses me hotly before she answers. “Well, almost.”

That’s right. It isn’t really worth it.

“So … erm … the morgue next time?” I ask, feigning innocence.

She smiles. “We’re flying home in five hours.”

“Scully! Not the mile-high-club!” I say, pretending to be shocked. In reality I feel a rush of heat coarsing through my veins. Will I ever be not-turned-on again in my life? The chances are looking very slim indeed.

She giggles. “No, we’ll probably need the flight to catch up on some sleep. But …”


“Your place or mine?”

I smile. “You have the better bed,” I say, kissing her deeply.

“It’s a deal. Next sex session at my place. But I won’t forget the morgue,” she says in a low voice. “I still want to have sex with you when I’m doing an autopsy.”

“Have some real autopsy fun,” I grin, running my hands all over her body. She nods just before we come together in a deep warm kiss, sealing our extraordinary relationship.

Life is great. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.



The Netherlands, 19 September 2002


Autopsy Fun For Real

From: KirstenK <>

Date: Mon, 23 Sep 2002 00:12:17 -0700 (PDT)

Subject: New story submission

Source: direct

TITLE: “Autopsy fun for real”

AUTHOR: KirstenK * RATING: NC-17. Smut smut smut. Again




SUMMARY: Finally Scully’s getting some real autopsy fun.

DISCLAIMER: Ah man, it’s not fair! But CC would rather eat his shorts than let them have this much fun. In short: they’re not mine and I’m not making any money off them. No infringment intended (I think)

FEEDBACK: If you loved reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it, then I’d love to hear from you.


NOTE: You may want to read ‘Autopsy Fun’ and ‘Autopsy fun

continued’ first to get the story-line.

WARNING: Smut smut smut smut smut smut smut. You may want to back off if you’re under-age and certainly if your parents are watching …


I don’t know how they did it, but somehow the FBI seemed to have gotten word about Mulder and myself. Hey, that’s why they put the ‘I’ in FBI, I guess …

Anyway, Skinner called us into his office about three weeks ago, showing us the transcript of the security tapes of our office and actually asking us for an explanation for the undeniably very unpartner-like sounds that were issued forth from it. We couldn’t give one. Well, none that would help us anyway.

Yes, that was us all right and no, we couldn’t give a good reason and yes, we knew about the partnership rules. And no, we were not going to be doing anything about it. I still shudder at the thought of having to forgo sex with my partner. I like my job but I like fucking my partner better.

Result: we are temporarily reassigned. Mulder was livid when we received the official transfer papers and stayed that way all during the day. We had some whopping good sex that night, but he really is best when he has some steam to let off.

I’m more or less permanently based in the forensic laboratories nowadays, doing autopsies on anything from road-kill to railway-pizzas, via everything from gang-killings to old ladies who have accidentally fallen off the kitchen chair while dusting. I never thought I’d be admitting it but it’s awfully boring work when there are no alien viruses to discover …

Mulder’s in the VCS again – and hating it. I’m truly sorry for A.D. Heidelberg for having Mulder in his team, but the man seems to cope. At least he’s had the clarity of mind not to send Mulder out into the field more than is absolutely really honestly necessary, rather having him stay back and do some background work and the necessary profiling that he’s so renowned for.

It’s not great, but at least we’re still together, which is more than we dared hoping for after having been found out.


It’s just after lunch when I enter the main autopsy theatre of the west-wing labs. Originally I had three bodies waiting for me, but when I announced that I wouldn’t be able to do them all today, Dr Campbell agreed and scheduled the third body for tomorrow morning, which is good.

I finish putting on the latex gloves as I walk to the notice board above the desk, checking who will be my assistant this afternoon. We are training students from the Academy, letting them assist us in our work as long as they stay out of our way. I actually like having a student for an assistant, recalling my time at the Academy when I, too, spent some time in the company of senior pathologists. My face had been every shade of green over the course of those three weeks, but it thoroughly prepared me for the work that lay ahead. My best memories are with Agent Darren Etzdorf, now retired, who let me do a few autopsies myself, recognising the medical training I’d had, and telling me what signs to look out for. We still exchange Christmas cards though that is about the extent of our friendship.

I look at the schedule to see which student I’ll be getting. Today we’ll be seeing a whole new group of students and each of us in the team has been assigned to take on two of them, one on each alternate day. “Rob Mitchell” I read. Not that the name should mean anything to me, but it’s nice to be able to address a person by his proper name instead of by ‘hey you’.

As new students are not supposed to be doing anything but observe and learn during the first few autopsies – and to test the strength of their stomachs preferably well away from the corpse you’re currently examining – I decide to get a head-start. He should be here soon enough.

I have just opened the body when I hear the door to the theatre open and then close.

“Special Agent Scully I presume?” I hear behind me and I freeze. My scalpel is being pushed right through the body as I try to control the utterly unexpected thoughts and feelings that course through me.

I whip round and I’m greeted by the grinning face of my partner, dressed not in autopsy shrubs but in his usual suit and tie, leaning casually against the doorpost, arms folded in that sexy self-assured manner I love so much.

“Mulder? What are you doing here?” I say, uncertain whether I should be glad or furious to see him now.

“I came to check up on my favourite Agent,” he grins, walking up to me and pulling the mask and cap from my face and head.

“Mulder, I have no time for that! I have two autopsies to do and besides a student will be walking in any moment now to be my assistant!” I protest, unable, however, to stop him from untying my apron and tossing it aside. “Mulder! The student …”

“Ah yes, Rob Mitchell, wasn’t it?” he says, a suspicious glimmer lighting up his eyes.

“How do you … Mulder, are you behind this?” I admonish him, realisation dawning.

“It was the only option, Scully,” he says.

“Option for what?”

“Well, we’ve been trying out pretty much every fantasy you and I have admitted to having, haven’t we? Except for one, if I remember correctly,” he says, pulling me right against his hard hot body. I can feel his erection through his slacks and can’t hold back a gasp. Oh God, I too remember what that is.

“Sex … sex in the morgue …” I whisper, somehow rather shocked he has surprised me like this.

“Exactly,” he only says, before he leans in and kisses me hard, his tongue quickly gaining access to my mouth. Ah, Jesus, those kisses …

When I come up from our kiss, breathless and incredibly aroused, one distressing thought springs to my mind. “Mulder … that student … he’s really not coming, is he?”

His eyes burn so hot I groan. “That student … is already here and I fucking well hope he’ll be coming hard really soon!”

I feel my knees buckle under me at this highly suggestive remark, but he catches me, lifting me up and carrying me to the clean autopsy table on the other side of the room.

He sits me down on the cold steel and I open my legs so he can walk in between them and get really close to me. I wrap my legs around his waist as we come together in a hard hot long kiss.

“Mulder … the security cameras …” I pant, hoping to hell he’s done something about those.

“Taken care of,” he murmurs as he nibbles the side of my neck. I gasp softly, letting the feelings take over.

“Lock the door …” I whisper, just before I hiss hard between clenched teeth. He knows every single one of my sensitive places and he’s never passed them yet.

“Already done,” he says, looking at me with hungry eyes. “Don’t worry, nobody will be disturbing us. I’ve taken care of everything. Just enjoy.”

I nod and smile, beginning to unbutton the unflattering surgical top I’m wearing. He quickly comes to my assistance, ripping the garment apart to win some time. I get really turned on by such … violence … and he knows it.

I smile knowingly when I hear his sharp intake of breath. I’ll bet my paycheck that he never expected to see this bra under those autopsy shrubs.

“Scully … you know what this bra does to me …” he nearly whines as the look in his eyes becomes downright predatory.

“I know,” I smile, “I was hoping to catch you unawares tonight. But as you’re already here I figured we could have some fun with it now as well, right?”

“I hope you’re in the mood for hard and fast today, Scully, ‘cause I lost all desire for tenderness about ten seconds ago,” he growls as he takes my breasts in his large hands, working them free from the navy silk cups.

I moan without hesitation or inhibition. Oh, Christ, I’m so wet already and we’re still nearly fully clothed.

“Hurry …” I say in a breathy voice. “I want …”

“You want what, Agent Scully?” he says, teasing me.

“I want you in me,” I answer. “Fuck me hard …”

“Aye aye, Ma’am,” he only says, lifting me off the table, then turning me round and bending me forward so my upper body is lying face-down on the cold steel slab. I feel how he pulls the surgical pants down and I kick them off and away. When I feel his hand on the crotch of my sodden panties I have to strain not to scream. For God’s sake, Mulder, get them off!

I feel how he pulls the whisp of soaked silk down my legs, baring me completely to him. The coldness of the air is startling as it hits the wetness between my legs and I hiss with the sensation. Strange but true, it only turns me on even more.

I hear the metallic sound of a zipper being undone and the soft rustle of clothes being moved. I look around and I moan when I see what’s in store for me. Jesus Christ on a pogo stick, he’s so big … I know he’s well-endowed, but today promises to be extra good fun.

His hands come between my legs, spreading them further so he has easier access. I comply readily. I let out a soughing sound when I feel him slowly pushing all the way in, stretching me in ways that I just can’t describe.

I rest my head on the steel, high with the rapture that comes with fucking Fox Mulder. Because that’s what this is, just plain good old fucking. No tenderness, no foreplay or sweetness. Just fucking our brains out and loving every bit of it.

I meet his thrusts with frantic ones of my own. His right hand is holding my hips, assisting our movements, while his left hand is teasing my clitoris. I usually do that myself, but it’s a fantastic sensation to have him bring me to the edge all by himself. I’m clutching the steel table with all my might, using the strength of my body to speed up our motions.

“… ah yes, Fox … right … right there …” I moan, feeling myself climb the way to the top so fast it’s making the room spin. “Oh God … oh oh … you feel soooo good …”

I bite my lower lip, trying to suppress some of the sounds that just keep flooding from my mouth, but when he hits a particularly good spot, I scream with the pain of biting right through the skin of my lip.

It’s all it takes for him to stop immediately and I lie panting on the table, so close, so hot, with him still buried deep and burning rock hard inside me.

“Scully?” he pants.

I shake my head clumsily, trying to show that he’s done nothing wrong. “No … no, I’m fine … Mulder …” I say softly, out of breath. “… my lip … it’s just my lip …”

He pulls out of me and I groan in protest. Oh shit, I don’t want to stop now! He turns me round so he can look at me. He’s quite a sight to behold, his pants and boxers round his ankles, his tie hanging loose round his neck, his face and neck flushed and covered with a thin sheen of sweat. But most importantly he’s still sporting the erection of the century, which is showing no indication of deflating anytime this decade. Fuck it, I hate my lip!

“It’s okay, Mulder,” I say softly, trying to get him closer to me. I’m so horny I can’t see straight, but I need to reassure him before he’ll continue and I know it. I touch my finger to the little nick in my lip. The blood has already dried, though it is a bit swollen and sore. “I just bit through my lip, that’s all.”

“Are you sure? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

I smile wickedly. “If anything you merely hurt me by stopping, big guy.”

He grins, lifting me up and sitting me on the very edge of the autopsy table. I spread my legs for a welcome, resting my arms round his neck, our eyes locked. He runs his fingers through my curls, covering them with the wetness which can be found in abundance there. He briefly teases my clitoris and I gasp, never letting go of his gaze. The myriad of emotions and passion I see swirling in his eyes is intoxicating – and turning me on even further. How the fuck does he do that? The man must be magical!

Then he lifts his fingers, dripping with my fluids, up to his lips and proceeds to lick them dry. I can’t hold back a deep, animalistic groan with lust. So this is what lust sounds like. It’s gorgeous, I want to have more of it.

His fingers, now wet with his saliva and possibly some residue of my juices, come up and slowly trace my lips, pausing for the shortest of moments at the place where I bit through the tender skin. My lips tremble apart as my eyes flutter shut. I may want to try as hard as I like to keep them open, but this is beyond anything I can control.

I feel the tip of his cock at my entrance, so hot and hard, and I let out a sigh of desire. Real desire.

“Mul … der …” I moan, resting my hands behind me on the table. I wrap my legs round his waist, urging him to enter me.

“Jesus, Scully …” I hear him pant in my ear, “… do you know how much that tone in your voice turns me on?”

I can’t reply except for another inarticulate sound.

“God, you have the sexiest voice I have ever heard …” he whispers, right before he pushes inside me with a hard strong thrust.

I let my head tip back with a wide lustful smile. Forgive me, Father, I’m sinning like hell and I’m loving every bit of it. Wanna come and join in? Oh, God, I’m gonna go straight to hell for this – but it’s worth it. Fucking my partner is so worth it …

One of my hands comes round the back of his neck, to get him closer.

“Jesus … ahhh … fucking hell, you feel good …” he pants roughly, but I can only answer him in suppressed screams. The electricity is phenomenal and I can feel the first ripples of my climax pluck at my nerve endings like a violin player at the strings. Softly, teasingly, with promises of a true master piece to follow.

As the ripples begin to turn into waves, I lean in, kissing him hard, ignoring my injured lip for the sake of an orgasm that would make the Milky Way shake on its foundations.

His sounds become ever more inarticulate as he audibly reaches his peak. We smother most of our sounds in a frantic kiss, our tongues imitating the sex-act. It’s incredibly arousing and just briefly I wonder who will come first. But then I can feel him tear apart right before my eyes. Oh sweet Lord, he’s gorgeous …

It’s all I need to let myself tumble into the abyss as well, giving in to the delicious waves of pleasure, crashing in on the beach of my sex life. I ride the waves like a pro.

Oh God … I feel perfect. Just totally perfect … I feel warm and loved and utterly satisfied and …

“Oh Mulder …” I murmur, nuzzling the side of his neck with loving affection. “Oh, you’re such a great lover …”

I feel his lips brush over the skin of my neck. “So are you, honey.”

We remain in our embrace for a little longer, but then the chilled air of the autopsy bay starts to creep up into my damp naked body. I shiver right before goosebumps appear all over my body.

Mulder smiles when he sees it. “Come, get dressed before you catch a cold.”

I smile, watching him as he puts his boxers and pants back on. Contrary to Yours Truly he was barely undressed right through it all. Well, that’s going to change tonight. But for now he has a point. I reach out and gather the discarded pieces of clothing and begin putting them back on.

“So, Agent Scully, was it any good? Did this satisfy your fantasy?”

I pause in putting the surgical coat back on to plant a hard kiss on his mouth. “It was fantastic and you know it. I never thought sex in a morgue could be this hot.”

“Gotta counteract the temperature, right?” he grins.

I cut a glance at the notice board and schedule of assistants. “That other student, there’s no way …” I waggle my eyebrows suggestively and he laughs.

“No, I’m afraid he really is going to turn up.”


He draws me into his arms, more gentle than perhaps I expected. His hands softly stroke my damp hair away from my eyes as he looks at me, smiling lovingly.

“I love you,” he whispers, making my insides go all gooey.

I smile. “I love you too, but you already knew that.”

He smiles widely. “Yes, I guess I did.” Then he hugs me, which I respond to in kind.

With a kiss on my forehead he lets go of me. “Come, I’ll leave you to your work. You still have those corpses to slice up and I have already taken up enough of your time.”

“You don’t honestly think I’m sorry about that, do you, Mulder?”

He laughs. “No, I don’t, but we really shouldn’t be pissing off the Bureau at this moment.”

I raise an eyebrow. “That’s a weird thing coming from the mouth of the man who just fucked the living daylights out of me in an FBI autopsy bay, pretending he’s an Academy cadet!”

He winks. “Ah, maybe so, Scully, but it was worth it, wasn’t it?”

I sigh and laugh. “Yes, Mulder, it was worth it. It was more than worth it.”

He presses a soft kiss on my lips. “See? I knew it.” Then he walks towards the door. “Eight o’clock my place?”

“Take-out Chinese and a 50s horror movie date?”

“You got it, Scully,” he grins and I smile.

“Put some clean sheets on the bed, Mulder and I’ll see you at eight.”

He’s still laughing when the door closes behind him, leaving me alone in the autopsy theatre with two corpses as witnesses to the crime that just occurred. It’s awfully silent all of a sudden. With a sigh I collect my instruments and gather them on the table next to the first corpse.

I pause for a moment before I remove the sheet from the body, recalling the mind-blowing sensations I’ve been through during the last half hour or so. This is going to be a long day, considering I won’t see him till eight. Because I’ll have to hurry if I even want to be finished by the time I have to leave to be at his place at the appointed time.

He deserves something good tonight, I decide, a reward for the guts and sheer audacity to surprise me like this. Man, I love him. And I’m going to make him feel fantastic tonight.

I know, I’ll have to sit today out first which is a bitch, but I’ll be fine. With a man like mine, I have no reason to complain.

Yup, life is pretty good when you come to think about it.



(c) The Netherlands, 22 September 2002


Autopsy Fun Aftermath

From: KirstenK <>

Date: Sat, 22 Feb 2003 17:25:43 -0800 (PST)

Subject: New story submission

Source: direct

TITLE: “Autopsy Fun aftermath”

AUTHOR: KirstenK * <>




SUMMARY: Time to pay the piper … DISCLAIMER: Ah man, it’s not fair! But CC would rather eat his shorts than let them have this much fun. In short: they’re not mine and I’m not making any money off them. No infringment intended (I think)

ARCHIVING: Sure. I’ll do Gossamer myself, all others: you’re welcome when you tell me where it’s going, ‘kay?

FEEDBACK: Cherished, worshipped and rewarded at <>



If someone is prepared to attempt wiping the grin off my face I wish him all the very best of luck — that just ain’t gonna happen.

Mind you, I have a good reason to smile, too. This whole adventure had been a bit of a gamble after all. Not that I doubt my partner’s willingness for a decent round of steamy fun, but we are at work and she is a consummate professional if nothing else. Boy, did we throw that to the wind this afternoon.

“Agent Mulder, can I speak to you for a moment?”

Ah, my new supervisor, A.D. Heidelberg. He’s a decent guy by all means and at least he leaves me alone. Most of the time that is.

“What is it, sir?”

I follow him into his office. “I missed you this afternoon. Care to explain the details of your whereabouts?”

I hesitate for just a split-second, before I decide to tell him the truth. “I was at the laboratories, sir.”

“So you were.”

“My former partner, Agent Scully, has been performing autopsies on those bodies we had shipped over from Utah. I needed some data to further the progress of the profile of the Alexandria murders and I presumed it was best to go down myself and gather the information myself.”

He looks at me intently as if to verify the truth of my words. I don’t budge. He has no reason to suspect me — well, actually he has of course, as he knows very well why I was placed under his supervision — but we have given him no reason to complain. And I know with dead certainty that he knows absolutely nothing about our little escapade down in the autopsy bay. I learned a trick or two from the Gunmen as far as security is concerned and that knowledge came in handy when I rerouted some wires before catching my gorgeous partner by surprise.

Satisfied that I’m telling the truth — or dissatisfied because he can’t prove I’m lying — he nods. “All right, just verifying. When can the new profile be expected, Agent Mulder?”

“If all goes well I should have it ready first thing tomorrow morning, sir.”

“Thank you, Agent Mulder. That’ll be all.”

“Thank you, sir,” I say as I turn on my heels and leave the office.

“Hey, Mulder, got fried by Heidelberg?” I hear behind me. It’s Paul Menendez, the guy I share a second floor office with. He’s grinning.

“Not really,” I reply. “He wanted to know where I’d been all afternoon.”

“Actually, where have you been? I was looking for you. Did you get the data on those Alexandria murders yet? I need them for the report.”

“No, but Agent Scully will send them up as soon as they’re ready.”

The mentioning of my partner’s name sends a big grin across Menendez’s face. As it does with most men around the building really.

“Ah, the delectable Agent Scully,” he says and lets out a whistle. “Man, you’re one lucky son of a bitch!”

You have no idea, I think, but I can’t keep the corners of my mouth from turning up.

“Anyway, when do you think she’d have them ready?” Menendez continues.

I look at my watch. “Shouldn’t take her more than an hour or two, I guess.”

“Two hours?”

“Yeah, she only just got started on those corpses,” I answer. “She’ll need a bit of time.”

He cuts me a look. “Actually, I think that’s fucking quick. Is she always that fast?”

“She can be faster, but she’s thorough,” I answer, feeling rather proud all of a sudden. Scully would probably have my balls for it, but I’m feeling damn possessive and proud of her now. Better keep that to myself for the moment.

“I’d better head for the office then and finish the report then,” Menendez says, pushing the button of the elevator. “Where are you going?”

“Down. I need some stuff from the basement.”

He frowns. “You’re not supposed to go there,” he says carefully.

“I know. Still need it, and I’m not going to ask permission first.”

“Suits me. It’s your ass that’s on the line, not mine.”

I grin, as we step into the elevator. “I’m used to that idea.”


I take a few moments to breathe in the musty air of the basement office, before I close the door behind me, feeling old memories penetrate my body through all my pores. It’s a fantastic feeling.

I throw the file down on the desk, sending a little cloud of dust into the air and sit down in my old chair. And for a moment it’s almost as if nothing has changed at all. It’s like the old days, sitting behind this desk, my feet on top, reading the latest file I’ve dug up as I wait for Scully to come in and bring me back to planet Earth with a sensible word and the curve of a finely shaped eyebrow.

I look round the office, taking a mental notice to get those old newspaper cuttings from the wall before they literally crumble to dust with old age. With a groan I get up from the chair and take the thumb tacks out, crumpling the cuttings up and tossing them in the dust bin. Well, almost.

Then, from the corner of my eye, I spot a small box of slides, stacked away behind a pile of books on all kinds of subjects. I reach out and manage to get the box out without making the whole pile falling over. I blow the dust away from them and hold one up to the light to see what they’re about.

I frown. I can’t remember ever having seen these before. I switch on another light and begin looking at the slides one by one. I’m intrigued. Who would’ve thought this office would hold another secret to me?

I hear a knock on the door and I smile.

“Nobody down here but the FBI’s most unwanted!” I answer, taking out another slide to inspect.

The door opens and I all but drop the box from my hands as I see Scully in the doorway.

“Whoo, déjà vu,” she smiles. “I don’t know if I like this scene.”

I smile, putting the box down on the desk. “What do you mean? We didn’t know it that day, but it’s not something I look back upon with disgust.”

She smiles back. “Of course not, neither do I. Anyway, Menendez said you’d be down here. I got the results of the Alexandria murders.”

“That’s quick,” I say. “I told Menendez it would take you at least an hour or two.”

“Ah, well, you know me,” she smiles. “I can be awfully quick when I choose to.” And with those words she walks up to me.

“Yes, I know,” I reply in a low voice. Then a thought crosses my mind. “But why come down here to find me? Menendez is writing the report, you should give the results to him, not to me.”

“I already did,” she whispers as she kisses me. “I never said I came down here to give you the autopsy data. I came down for something else …”

“Do I need to ask you what that would be or can I trust my instincts?”

She deftly undoes the knot in my tie and tosses it into the chair. “Trust your instincts, handsome. They’re the better guides.”

“Really?” I say softly, cupping her face in my hands. I lean in a kiss her deeply.

“Yeah …” she answers in a breathy voice. Wow …

“So, you came down here for … what exactly?”

“Can’t you guess?” she grins and I shrug.

“Yeah, well … Just can’t believe you’re actually going along with it.”

“Believe it, gorgeous.” She makes quick work of my shirt buttons and I start undoing the buttons of her blouse as well. “When you told me you wanted to fuck me senseless in the office, I nearly fainted.”

I smile. “I did notice the interesting effect my words had on you, yeah …”

She snickers. “Mulder, I nearly came all over myself, just from you saying those words. I couldn’t stop thinking about them.”

“D’you think the office is still bugged?”

She smiles. “It may well be, but I doubt whether they still check the tapes. They think the office is deserted and we dare not return.”

“They should know better by now, shouldn’t they?” I grin, peeling her skirt away from her. She’s wearing thigh-high stockings with lacy tops. Jesus … I’m gonna faint myself just with the sight …

“Sooo,” she says, drawing out the word into an incredibly sexy sound, “you said something about wanting to fuck me senseless in the office?”

I grin, peeling her blouse away from her shoulders and unhooking her bra. “Oh yes, I did. Any particular position you’re keen on trying first?”

She smiles that smile that is guaranteed to knock the breath right out of me. “Take me any way you want, lover, I’m so hot I couldn’t care less as long as you get the hell inside me …”

Jesus …

I know, I’m referring to Him quite a bit, but I’m so turned on I sorely need the divine assistance to grant me at least a smidgen of self-control before I ravish the gorgeous woman who loves me so fucking much in ways even an NC-17 rated story would be embarrassed to describe …

I quickly get the remainder of my clothes off as she leans against the desk, her eyes hot as fire, her lips constantly being licked by that perfect little pink tongue of hers, her face and neck and chest flushed in arousal and her smell … oh man, her smell is just all around us here, driving away the dust and stale air.

Then she does something unexpected: she takes my glasses from the desk and places them carefully on my face. I’m pretty sure my face betrays my amazement.

“You’re so damn sexy when you’re wearing your glasses,” she says in a smoky voice.

I can’t help my next comment. “I’m not sexy without them?”

She chuckles, but it’s the richest chuckle I’ve ever heard, one filled to the point of over-flowing with desire.

“I can’t believe I’m actually contemplating an answer, sweet-and-drop-dead-gorgeous-partner-of-mine!”

I grin. Then I take her hand and draw her into my arms, claiming her lips for a searing kiss. She audibly moans into the kiss as her hands fly to my butt, pressing my groin into hers. My cock is trapped between our bodies, but I don’t hear it complaining. There are worse places it could be …

“If you wanted slow, you needed another approach, Scully,” I pant when we break from our kiss. She looks absolutely wild.

“I don’t want slow!” she growls. “I want you in me, fucking me so hard they won’t even need cameras to know what we’re doing.”

I lie her down on the desk, her fiery hair fanned out across the dusty top, her stocking-clad legs wrapped securely round my thighs as if the prevent me from leaving. Hah, as if …

“My God, there isn’t a better sight in the world,” I pant as I waste no time pushing into her, drawing sighs from both of us. “Or a better feeling,” I add and she chuckles, then whimpers.

“You’re absolutely right,” she answers, hooking her arm around my neck and raising up a bit so I can get in deeper. “Now don’t talk anymore …”

I shake my head, before I lock my lips on that little spot just below her ear. Poor girl, the hickey I gave her only just disappeared but I just can’t resist the taste of that bit of skin. And it’s in such perfect reach.

I can’t go slow. I want to, but I just can’t.

“… gotta move …” I pant, “so sorry …”

“Don’t be,” she whispers, letting out a hot little whimper that seems to pass by my brain altogether and take up lodging straight in my groin. “… go faster …”

I smile and pick up the speed. The air is filled with our smell and the moist sounds of our bodies moving together. And with our suppressed moans and nonsense sounds. We know we can’t be too vocal, but — fuck, she’s just so perfect! No court would ever convict me if only they knew what it was like to have sex with this woman. Mind you, I wouldn’t want them to know, of course.

It’s over before I even realise it. I feel the tremors increase in strength, both in her and in me and I just can’t help but give in to the fantastic sensations they bring as I spend myself deep within her. I clutch her to me while I try to recover from this mind-blowing experience.

I hear her chuckle in my ear and I raise my head slightly to be able to look at her.


“That must have been a new speed record,” she says, her voice slightly rough around the edges.

“I’m sorry,” I answer, trying to conceal my disappointment. I tried to make this good for her, but I just couldn’t stop it.

“Hey, don’t be,” she says, kissing me softly. “Mind you, I came at the same time, if not before you did. No man has ever achieved that.”

I grin. “Can I feel proud now?”

She nods. “Mulder, I can honestly say you’re the best lover I have ever had. Not that I have such an extensive record, but still …”

“Thanks,” I grin, pulling out of her. “So, do you have to go back to the labs?”

“Yeah, I got one more corpse waiting for me which I need to finish. How about you?”

I glance sideways at the mountains of red tape awaiting me. I choose to ignore it. “Me? I’m finished here.” I kiss her cherry lips. “I think I’ll go home and prepare the date I promised you.”

For a moment something hot flickers in her eyes, but then it’s gone and maybe it was never there in the first place. My imagination certainly hasn’t been dulled by us becoming lovers. On the contrary actually.

“Good idea.” And with that she puts her blouse and skirt back on, smoothing back her hair when she’s finished dressing. Nothing in her appearance gives away any clue about the little indiscretion she enjoyed only minutes ago. Talk about professional. “I’ll be home at eight. Be ready!”

I grab her and give her a searing kiss, one that actually leaves her breathless and flushed. “Don’t you worry about that, gorgeous …”

And with that she leaves the office, leaving me smiling among the debris of our former lives. We may have lost much, but we sure have gained more …


The Netherlands, 23 February 2003 (c)

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