Last Time, Next Time & First Time (The) by Hannah Mason (syntax6)

Go to main book page

The Last Time, The Next Time & The First Time by Hannah Mason

TITLE: The Last Time

AUTHOR: Hannah Mason

CLASSIFICATION: VA

RATED: PG

SPOILERS: The pilot, I guess

TIMELINE: Choose your own adventure!

SUMMARY: Scully’s gone again. What if Mulder had known beforehand?

ARCHIVE: Sure, why not?

DISCLAIMERS: The dynamic duo are the intellectual property of Chris Carter, the financial property of 1013 & Fox, and the spiritual property of David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson. I’m only playing with ‘em.

A first for me. Hope it’s palatable.

---

The Last Time

If it were the last time… what would I do? What words would I say to her? Would I say anything at all?

As it stands, I’m left with a fractured memory. The sound of her heels clicking as she walked away. A light trail of perfume in the air. Flowers of some kind…and citrus? I can’t be sure.

Dammit, I want to be sure.

The cellular customer you are trying to reach is unavailable.

Such simple words. A ten word sentence that circled my mind in a death spiral.

customer is unavailable

unavailable unavailable…

Would I have memorized her face, you ask?

No, I would not have wasted time with that. I carry with me a thick mental folder of Scullyfaces that I can open and peruse at will, all cross-referenced and categorized. The delicately wrinkled nose is one my personal favorites.

At first, I had thought maybe the phone was merely off. She had done this before; Scullyspeak for “leave me the hell alone, Mulder.” It’s a language I’ve been fluent in almost from the start, despite the fact that I sometimes feign ignorance when it suits my needs. And I have a lot of needs. It is a credit to her endless patience that I still possess matching limbs.

But the truth of it is that I am a native Scullyspeaker…thinker…whatever. I know that she would not have disconnected our lifeline in the middle of a case, no matter how irritated she was. Maybe, I hoped, she was just out of range of a service tower. That would certainly be apt. Scully has been out of my range a lot lately, our usual rhythms disrupted by something I cannot yet name. I kicked myself mentally for not trying harder to mend the rift; if there was ever a time I needed my Scully connection…

Maybe I would have thanked her, if it was going to be the last time. Thank you, Scully, for pulling me out of my self-imposed exile. For making me ask the really tough questions. For staying with me through the even tougher answers. I never knew how alone I was until the day I suddenly wasn’t.

I thought back on the day she had stepped resolutely into my office, my life, my madness. Shoulders back, smile in place and briefcase in hand. Look out-they’ve sent me the FBI posterchild! I had smirked at her. Seven minutes, I’d thought. I shook her tiny, manicured hand and scoffed inwardly at her neatly pressed suit. Yup, Seven Minute Scully. I’d silently dubbed her as I launched into one of my most crazed narratives.

So my math had been wrong. There is a first time for everything. I had long ago reassessed our time frame together, anyway. Seventy years was my current total.

Please, I thought, racing the car through the night streets.

Please don’t let me have calculated wrong again.

I knew, of course, that there was not going to be some misunderstanding with the phone. I knew this in the way I just knew some things about Scully. This was not some fit of pique or happenstance of weather that separated us.

He had grabbed her. Had her now, somewhere. Would kill her as he had the others. Memories of their bodies lurched through my brain in succession. These unfortunates had not gone gently into the great night.

Scully, where are you? I’m not ready for the last time.

I’mnoti’mnoti’mnotnotreadnotreadynotreadynotnotnotnotnot.

My hands ached from gripping the steering wheel.

I’ve made mistakes with Scully since that first day. I’ve infuriated her by leaving her behind when she should have rightfully been with me. I’ve taken her brilliance and loyalty for granted. Kept secrets I shouldn’t. Pushed too hard….or not hard enough. Once, when we were driving late at night, much like I’m doing now, along a winding deserted road in Nowhere, USA, she had turned from the window to look at me.

“Did you say something?” she asked.

“No.” I had answered automatically.

“Oh. Okay.” Said softly, maybe wistfully?

I wondered now, again, what it was she’d thought I said.

What I maybe should have said. Sometimes I’m afraid to talk to Scully for fear of what will come out of my mouth once I start.

You know, Scully, some day I would really like to watch you eat a popsicle. Well, grape, since you asked…

Hey, Scully, did you know that a male penguin must present the female with an acceptably-sized rock before she will mate with him? And they say apes are like humans…

It’s terrifying, Scully. Sometimes I’m afraid that if I find Samantha, I will lose myself…

I’m sorry, Scully, for being so greedy and

selfish that I can’t stop myself from wanting you to share the daily nightmare that is my life…

There are times I want to touch you,

Scully, want to touch you so bad my fingertips burn…do you ever burn, Scully?

The car skidded around the corner so fast it nearly rolled.

Fasterfasterfasterfasterfasterfasterfasterfasterfasterfaster I would want to touch her, if it were the last time. But that is not exactly news. I always want to touch her. Her hair her face her arms her back. Usually, I can restrain myself, but there are moments when I cannot help it and my hands move before my brain has a chance to intervene. So soft, my Scully. I can only hope that my face does not belie the frissions of pleasure I get everytime my skin meets hers. Here a hand squeeze, there a shoulder rub. Ever chaste, these touches of ours. What kind of touch would it be, for the last time?

I’m hurtling through the night at breakneck speed now, nearing the moment that will mark either my latest salvation or eternal damnation. Pathetic, really. My whole life could be described this way. Me, running wildly toward the unknown, chasing after Shadowmen in the the name of Scully, Samantha and the Truth. My own personal holy trinity.

Maybe it’s not so pathetic after all…

I’m not too sure what I will do when I find them. Scully’s the thinker, the planner. I just bust down doors and worry about the details later. So far, my instincts have served me-and Scully-pretty well. Hers are damn fine, too. Let’s face it, this is not the first time we have found ourselves in this hellish situation. The Valley of the Shadow of Death is familiar terrain by now. I once teased her that we should consider selling road maps, but she wasn’t amused.

Maybe that was because I had just landed us in level four quarantine.

Again.

I wondered if I could make her smile, if it were the last time. It takes work to catch a Scullysmile, but my reflexes are good. If I could place an order ahead of time, it would be for the small, devil-made-me do it smile she gets when she’s done something clever. When she’s surprised me with unexpected humor. What pleased self-satisfaction there is in that smile! Scully is pleased with herself so rarely. I can only hope that she knows how much she pleases me.

My heart is pounding and I know that I am close. As FBI agents, we’re supposed to be prepared for the possibility of death. Hell, there really shouldn’t be anyone more prepared than me and Scully. We’ve done the Texas-two step with that ultimate man in black more times than I care to recount. But somehow it always fades away in the interim, once we’re back on terra firma and routine settles over us like a blanket. Until the next time one of the hounds of hell escapes its leash and one of us is whirling around the dance floor once more.

I can remember the steps if I really try. Remember what it is like to lie belly-up, gasping for each breath and wondering if it will be the last. Remember the shimmering consciousness fading into a black void as the dance quickened. But every time I was sure I was about to be handed a harp, there was my partner. My own red-headed warrior tapping Death on the shoulder. But no “May I cut in?” for this woman. Nosiree. She always demanded my life back with such tenacity that Bonyface dropped his scepter and ran home.

Was it like this for her? Did she run after me thinking of our last moments, wondering if they were fated to be our Last Moments?

Well, probably not exactly. Scully never was one for fate.

Still, she must have wondered. Had regrets. Right?

If not, I had regrets I could share. Tons of ‘em. Regret that I hadn’t saved my sister, who’d been only eight years old and entrusted into my care. Regret that I couldn’t mend a family that had been slowly unraveled at the seams. That I had seen so much yet accomplished so little. That I had molded for myself an existence so fraught with darkness and evil that sometimes I wondered if I would ever see the light of day.

Yes indeed my life was chock full of regret, soup to nuts, A to Z. Except for one thing.

I had her. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t make myself regret Scully’s presence in my life. Despite all that it had cost her, the selfish bastard in me stubbornly held on to the one person who vanquished my worst demons.

Not with sweetness and light, but with fire and steel. How was I supposed to give up the fight when faced with all that courage?

And so though I sometimes ached for her, cried for her, I did not regret the fact Dana Scully’s world had somehow, inexorably meshed with mine. At least not yet.

Not yet.

I halted the car with a screech. As I hurried toward the building, I stopped thinking about the last time.

Soon I would have her safe again. I had to believe that, for there was still a lot I wanted to say when I saw her. A lot I wanted her to say to me.

The next time.

---

TITLE: The Next Time

AUTHOR: Hannah Mason

CATEGORY: VAR

RATING: PG-13

KEYWORDS: MSR

SPOILERS: Triangle

SUMMARY: Now that Scully’s back safe and sound, she learns that Mulder is man enough to carry her purse. But will he be strong enough to carry her heart?

DISCLAIMER: Ooooo..IwishImayIwishImight..(closes eyes). Poof!

Sigh…still not mine. All credit and adulation go to CC, GA and DD. Fox only gets the money. I just get personal satisfaction.

AUTHOR NOTE: This is a sequel/companion piece to The Last Time.

However, it can probably stand alone. I just wanted a chance to flex my Scully muscles this time. =)

---

The Next Time

It was the argument that woke me from my dreamless, drug-induced sleep. Well, I guess it would be more accurate to say it was the suggestion of an argument that roused my slumbering senses.

I could not parse out the words at first, only the voice. That voice. His voice. Using That Tone. The urgent, tension-filled one he usually directed at me during our most heated disagreements. Clearly, if he is using that tone it must be something vitally important. Now, if I could just figure out what we were arguing about…

I willed myself to pay closer attention. To grab every word I could so that when it was my turn to speak I could do my part of the duet with equal intensity.

It occurred to me that I would be better able to follow this conversation if I could see as well as hear him. However, it did not immediately occur to me that raising my eyelids would accomplish this.

More Mulder words…what was it he was saying?

“I am the next of kin, dammit. See, look at this card from her wallet. Look right there. `In case of emergency, contact Fox Mulder.’ That’s me…I’m him!”

Another voice interjected with frosty impatience. A woman. Me?

“I can read the card, Mr. Mulder. But that does not change the matter. We have a strict family-only policy concerning visitation in the ICU. I suggest that you wait…”

The woman was brisk, no nonsense, but she was not me. The voice was too far away. Maybe I was not the one having this argument with Mulder after all. This thought brought me inexplicable sadness…and anger. Great Mulder. Terrific. I’m out of commission for five minutes…in the hospital…recovering from what that…that thing did to me and you go take up arguing with another woman. Thanks so much.

A sudden feeling of dread landed solidly in my chest as the impact of my last thoughts hit me full force. The woman’s words, now crystalline clear, echoed back to me. The ICU? Next of kin?

I now had a pretty good idea why I had not been invited to the argument party.

With Herculean effort, I opened my eyes, already knowing what image would greet me. Yup. Sterile white walls, empty white cot, IV. drip. All signs pointed to a hospital room. Score another one for the Dana Scully brain trust.

I slowly began to take stock of my condition, mentally cataloging all insults and injuries my body had endured. It was a slower process than usual, and I blamed my sluggish faculties on whatever substance was flowing steadily through my veins.

Morphine, maybe? This could be worse than I thought.

Legs okay. It took some doing, but I moved both of them without pain.

Arms…oh, my God. Definitely not okay. One was immobilized in a splint, with what felt like ice packs tucked inside. Broken?

Dislocated? At this point I couldn’t be sure. The only thing I knew for certain was that it was going to hurt like a sonofabitch when the happydrugs wore off.

My breath caught in my throat. Pain. There had been a lot of it. With him. Last night. In that horrible, awful, dark place.

Was it only last night? Images and feelings swamped through me at a frightening pace, overwhelming in their intensity.

NONONONO. I screwed my eyes shut.

Don’tthinkaboutitdon’tthink aboutit.

The scenes flashed before me as my mind spun recklessly beyond my control. He was going to kill me and it was going hurt. His face over mine as we struggled. Sostrongsostrong. Memories of the pain were sharp, blinding, poking at me with fiery tips. His hands, as they seemed to rip my arm in half. The bone-crunching agony had gripped me like a vice, robbing me of all thoughts and leaving only the burning desire to live.

My breathing quickened, hyperventilation increasing both my heart rate and my panic. Stop it, I told myself. Stop this right now.

It’s over. Don’t go falling apart in your hospital bed. How ridiculous is that?

I struggled to sit up, but the room swam circles around me and I quickly lay down again. Tears filled my eyes but I blinked them back. Stopitstopitstopit. Thinkaboutsomethingelse.

Mulder. He was around here somewhere, right? I glanced toward the door where I had last heard that voice, but it was gone. I heard only muffled sounds bouncing off the hallway walls. There were plenty of people on the other side of the door, but none of them was the one I was hoping for. The one was I needing.

I had felt this same need last night, ratcheted up even more.

Needed his help. Needed his presence. Needed to tell him something.

I remembered this with utmost clarity, this desperate need to talk to Mulder one more time. To tell him….what?

That I have been honored to be part of this quest of his?

That I have never known a man with a truer sense of justice?

That I treasured every take-out meal and verbal jab we had ever shared?

That I loved his brilliant quirky mind, his twisted ironic humor and his fierce dedication?

That I loved him.

He had said it to me, once. In a hospital room much like this one. I had not returned the words then or since, and to be truthful I’m not entirely sure why.

I had been startled, when he said those three, tiny terrible and wonderful words. Completely surprised and maybe even a little bit…miffed?

It has always been my job, you see, to take the emotional reins in this relationship. It was not always a task I enjoyed, but it was a role I had become comfortable with. I knew my part and he knew his. I talk about feelings, he talks about the IceCapades.

Life continues as per usual, and our relationship remains clearly delineated, disrupted only occasionally by a mutant or life threatening illness.

And when I had control, dammit, everything stayed firmly in check. Just a rare moment of personal disclosure here or there.

Nothing that couldn’t be retracted or overlooked later on, if necessary.

But my partner…well, he never does anything halfway. He’d laid all his cards on the table in one fell SWOOP-and we’d been eyeing each other warily over them ever since. Our usual easy interaction had become almost stilted and I blamed him for the divisive atmosphere that permeated our formerly comfortable routine.

Damn you, Mulder, didn’t you realize that there are some things you just can’t take back?

Maybe he did. Maybe this just another example of my partner leading with his heart rather than his head, throwing his latest crazy theory out and then waiting for my logic to catch up.

Last night it had. As I had faced the fact that I was quickly losing this latest fight, I feared that it might have taken me too long. That in my over-analysis, I might have dragged out my answer so long that he would never be able to receive it.

Oh, Mulder. What’s to become of us? I glanced at the door to my room again, willing him to walk through it. Maybe if I summoned that woman, I could convince her that…

The door was opening!

Sure enough, the most beloved face in my world peeked around into the room. He looked worried, tired. Older than I remembered.

He was beautiful.

I smiled. “Hey…” It was all I could manage to croak out.

He grinned back at me. “Hey, yourself,” he said coming fully into the room and closing the door behind him.

He stood there for a moment as we smiled like idiots.

Then I noticed he had my purse slung over his shoulder. The I.D.

card. That’s where he had gotten it from.

So he had rescued me and my handbag. I felt tears sting my eyes. What a partner.

“Ummm…nice purse, Mulder.” I finally broke the silence.

He looked down and then shot me a thoughtful look. “Do you think? I wasn’t sure it worked with the shoes.”

I held out my hand, the good one with the IV. in it. “C’mere. I can’t talk too loud.” My throat was indeed sore. From screaming? I fought a shiver and blocked the thought from my mind. Later…

“I can’t talk too loud, either,” he returned as he pulled up a chair. “Nurse Ratchet will find me.”

We linked hands.

“How you doing?” he questioned softly.

I wrinkled my nose in thought, taking inventory again. “I dunno exactly. You tell me. What happened?”

He was quiet for a long time, rubbing his thumb along the inside of my wrist. “How much do you want to know?”

“Is he dead?” I asked.

“Yes.”

By the grim set of Mulder’s mouth, I didn’t need to ask who had killed him. I’m sorry Mulder. I know you wanted this one alive.

I squeezed his hand in apology. He squeezed back, gently, and I knew that he was not sorry.

“So how long am I in for?” I murmured, steeling myself for the bad news.

“With time off for good behavior you might be paroled by tomorrow afternoon. You’ve got a dislocated elbow, two cracked ribs and a nasty concussion.”

I closed my eyes. “Guess I’m going to have to postpone that triathelon, then.”

This earned me another smile. “Not to worry,” he said, “I’m sure you’ll be Iron Man Scully again in no time.”

No time. The words cause my eyes to pop open again. That had been my problem last night, and there had been nothing I could do about it. Now I could, and I meant to get started immediately.

“Mulder…”

“Scully…”

We both started at the same time and then halted awkwardly. He tugged on my hand. “Me first. Please?” His eyes held mine, and I knew from their dark color that he was not going to be dissuaded. All right. After six years, I could wait another minute. I nodded my assent to him.

“Okay. Good.” He took a deep breath and shifted his gaze to our joined hands, seeming suddenly uncertain about how to begin.

“The thing is, Scully…we’ve been kind of far away from each other lately. Even when we’re in the same room.” He looked at me quickly, as if daring me to deny it. I couldn’t.

“Yes.” I whispered.

“I know that I’m responsible for creating that distance,” he continued, not looking at me again. “That I crossed a line with you that I shouldn’t have, and it I know it’s my responsibility to put things right. But…I’m telling you straight here, Scully…I just haven’t been able to figure out how.”

“Mulder…”

“Shush. It’s my turn, remember?” He held my gaze until I nodded again.

“I still wouldn’t take back that night in Bermuda, you know. Not even with all the crap that has come since. I’m glad I finally got the words out, even if it took a near death experience and 10ccs of morphine to do it.”

He gave a small shrug. “I mean, I always figured you knew anyway. Hell, the whole Hoover building must have known. It’s not like I make a habit of hiding my feelings.”

This was true. All of it. I had known, of course. So had the Hoover building. And as for hiding his emotions, Mulder didn’t just wear them on his sleeve. He draped himself in them, togastyle. It was one of his more endearing qualities.

Mulder, Mulder…is it my turn to talk yet?

He was not yet done, however. “At the time, I wasn’t even fazed by the eye-roll and your quick exit.”

I gave him a raised eyebrow and he smiled sheepishly. “Morphine, remember?”

“Seriously, I mean it. I was still happy after you left. I figured I had cleared the biggest hurdle and we could work on the fine print later. But I was wrong, Scully. You didn’t just stop by running out of the room. You kept right on going until I wasn’t sure I could ever coax you back.”

It was my turn to look away.

He gave my hand a fierce squeeze. “Stop it,” he said with a sterness that was only half in jest. “No running now. Doctor’s orders.”

Obediently, I returned my eyes to his face. The potent blend of love and sadness I saw there nearly stopped my heart.

When he continued, his voice was so soft I had to strain to catch the words. “I didn’t chase after you, Scully. I didn’t chase you because I was so afraid that I might push you away for good.

I kept waiting for you to come back, so I could get the whole spiel right, without the benefits of modern pharmacology. But you stayed so far away for so long that I began to get a little desperate, and desperate men resort to strange measures.”

Mulder’s measures were almost always strange. What was he referring to now?

“I’m afraid I got kind of mean there for awhile,” he murmured.

“I said and did stuff I knew would make you mad, if only to get some sort of reaction out of you. Stupid, I know. Can’t make the girl love me, so why not aim for hatred instead?”

Hate? I tried to imagine myself hating Mulder. Frustrated?

Sure. Irritated? No problem. So angry I wanted to kick his teeth in? Yup, I could do that one. But hate?

Never hate, Mulder…dammit all, when was it going to be my turn?

“So then last night, when I was trying to find you, chasing after you at last, I just kept thinking, my God, what if I was wrong?

What if I had misjudged everything and she really hadn’t believed me? What if I had fucked things up so badly that I was never going to get the chance to make sure?”

Had he really been so unsure of my feelings? I would definitely need to work on that. Sometimes being enigmatic isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

“Well, I’ve finally got my chance, Scully, and I’m not going to blow it this time.” He picked up my hand and held it carefully between his own. This gesture alone was enough to bring back my tears. And he wasn’t finished yet.

“I love you,” he said softly. “I meant it then and I mean it now. I will mean it tomorrow and all the tomorrows that follow.

Each day with you is like an incredible gift I don’t know what I did to deserve. With all that I had seen, all that I had experienced, I thought that there was nothing outside the realm of my imagination. But then you arrived. And suddenly I found that my own personal skeptic was opening my mind to the most extreme possibility of all-that maybe I wasn’t forever damned to be alone.”

My tears were falling freely now. He had my one good hand, so I let them fall unchecked. He kissed my knuckles.

I gave him a watery chuckle. “Let me meet

“Okay, it can be your turn now.”

with my speech writers and I’ll get back to you.”

His face became shadowed with concern. “You must be exhausted.

Why don’t you rest? We can always talk some more later.”

I gripped his hand with a strength I didn’t know I had left.

“Move from that chair and you’re a dead man.” He wasn’t going to escape me now. I wasn’t going to be able to match his eloquence…hey, I was drugged…but I was damn sure going to get my chance to speak.

“Mulder, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to be difficult and uncommunicative. You took an enormous risk with your words and I should have recognized your valor, even if I couldn’t return it at that point. I was shocked, I guess, that you would be so bold. You may not hide your feelings well, but you are rather choosy with your words.”

He offered a half-smile and dropped his head in mute agreement.

“Of course I knew. And of course I love you back.”

His head jerked up. Really?

I smiled at him. Really.

“Mulder, you give me all this credit for rescuing you, but I think it may have been the other way around.”

Mulder shot me a look of disbelief. He can do a great “skeptic”

when he sets his mind to it.

“If it weren’t for you, Mulder, I would have settled for less.”

“Less what?” he blurts out, confused.

I paused, thinking. “Less of everything, I guess. I would have stopped with the easy answers, with the science I already knew as opposed to the one that’s really out there.”

“Really, really out there,” he agreed.

“Mulder…” I tried, but I couldn’t hide the smile. Then I saw that he was pleased that he’d amused me, and I was glad I didn’t.

“I would have settled for less of myself,” I continued “I would be only part of the person I am now. You have challenged me in such interesting ways that I’ve uncovered parts of myself I might never have found otherwise. You’ve helped me see a strength I never knew I had. No one else has ever done that before.”

“Aw, shucks, ma’m, it weren’t nothing.”

I suppressed a sigh. Always with the humor. Some things would never change. But I pushed on.

“I would have settled for less love.”

This got his full attention, and there was no accompanying wisecrack. He waited expectantly for me to continue.

“I would have chosen a more simple relationship, I think. One where I felt invested, but not overly so. I would have chosen someone more predictable, more static.”

“Maybe that’s not such a bad thing.” His voice was tight.

“Maybe not.” I hesitated. “But Mulder, I can’t imagine that now. It makes me ache to even contemplate it. Your intensity, your passion, they are so exhilarating I can’t think what my life would have been like without them. Life with you is so…vivid.

I’ve using all the colors in the crayon box now, and I like it that way. Constant change is a little scary for me, it’s true, but you make the whirlwind seem exciting rather than treacherous.

“You know me better than anyone ever has, and while that sometimes makes me feel exposed, most of the time it makes me feel alive. Connected. Does that make sense to you?”

He looked at me, his eyes huge and luminous. “Yes,” he whispered hoarsely. “Perfectly.”

We stared at each other for awhile, basking in the resurgence of our unspoken bond. Both keenly aware that this happiness was temporary, that there was not going to be a “happily ever after”

for the two of us. Not when there were mutant monsters lurking in middle American towns. Not when we were standing on the frontlines of the battle against alien invasion.

But here I was willing to settle. I’d trade “happily ever after”

for “occasional mind-blowing ecstasy”. Hmmm…was that settling?

My eyes must have closed again, because I felt rather than saw Mulder rise from his chair. He was leaning over me, kissing my cheek.

“I should let you rest,” he murmured.

“Mmmm…no, stay.” I was not ready to let go yet. “C’mere.” I shifted on the bed to make room for him.

“Scully!”

I’d scandalized him. Good, it’ll keep him on his toes. Taking the second pillow from behind my head, I rolled, very gingerly, onto my uninjured side so that the pillow simultaneously supported both the bulky splint and my cracked ribs. Plenty of room now.

“Get in.” I repeated my invitation. Maybe there really was a link between morphine and audacity.

“I don’t know, Scully…I don’t want to risk hurting you…”

He was wavering, I could tell. “Agent Mulder, get your ass into this bed. Now.” Mmmm…and what an ass it was, too.

I heard him kick off his shoes and knew I’d won the argument.

The woman from the hall had nothing on me. I smiled into the pillow, knowing he wouldn’t be seeking out any new sparring partners now.

The bed shifted under me as his weight joined mine. I felt his breath in my hair and one heavy arm came around me to rest on my hip.

“Okay?”

Okay? I nearly moaned. Instead I managed a nod.

His hand stroked my stomach in small circles. “You feel ridiculously good.”

I would have wriggled closer, but my injuries forbade it. “You, too.”

His hand moved to stroke my hip under the blankets. “If Nurse Ratchet comes back, you may have to tell her I’m your cousin.

She’s pretty rigid about the family-only policy.”

Silly man, didn’t he know? “Mulder, you’ve been part of my family for years now.”

He didn’t reply, but pressed his face close against my neck. We were quiet for a long moment. When he spoke again, his voice had taken on the far away quality it had when I’d first heard it earlier.

“Scully, this might even work out, you know. If we can anticipate the problems, maybe we can avoid them.”

“Mmmm…you anticipate the problems, Mulder. I’m gonna anticipate the hot sex.”

I fell asleep to the sound of his laughter, dreaming Mulder-vivid dreams. About the first time.

---

TITLE: The First Time

AUTHOR: Hannah Mason

CATEGORY: SR, a dash of A, liberal amounts of H RATING: NC-17

SUMMARY: Just when Scully has the Big Moment all scripted, Mulder throws her for a loop with a startling new sex toy.

General lechery ensues.

ARCHIVE: I’d be honored; just let me know where I can come to visit.

DISCLAIMER: Alas, Mulder & Scully belong to a bunch of people who, although terribly clever, never seem to let them have any fun. And fun is all I’m gettin’ out of this, so hold the lawsuits.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: This is a sequel/companion piece to The Last Time & The Next Time, but also works okay as a stand alone.

---

The First Time

Over the course of six years, Fox Mulder had systematically turned over every one of my neat, orderly crates of mental information.

I should have known the sex would not be any different.

While I lay around my apartment recuperating from my injuries, I had plenty of time to think about it, and I played out each scenario in wonderfully graphic detail.

From the first brush of skin to the last panting breath, I had constructed hundreds of first times for me and Mulder.

We had done it in the office behind the filing cabinets, tongues entwined the entire time to stifle every tell-tale sound of pleasure. We had done it at my apartment, at his apartment, and in the car half-way in between. I had seduced him in the ladies’ room at Casey’s, he had fucked me in the elevator of his apartment building. Both times we had just unzipped and pushed aside the necessary clothing in our frantic rush toward blinding ecstasy. Sometimes we drew it out for hours as we lingered over every touch, delaying orgasm until the need for release became nearly unbearable.

Once I even knelt down in the shower, the hot water pulsing needles down my back as I took him in my mouth and sucked him until he came.

In the recesses of my mind, we had done it in just about every conceivable position, every imaginable locale. Which one would it be for real? The anticipation was slowly driving me insane.

It had been a very looooooong three weeks for the two of us.

The joy of finally being honest about the nature of our feelings for one another had been matched only by the tortuous agony of being unable to act upon them. My cracked ribs and dislocated elbow put the kibosh on any sort of heavy breathing, so we had tacitly agreed to keep our distance from one another lest things get out of hand.

Instead we’d spent the evenings of my convalescence on my couch, trying desperately to focus on a movie plot rather than each other. Mulder had been uncommonly solicitous, offering to fetch and carry at every turn. And I must confess that I took shameful advantage of his kind offers, since I’d frequently found myself requesting more tea or an extra pillow just for the pleasure of watching him move across the room. Judging from the number of times he managed to have to bend over to slooooowly retrieve items from the floor, however, I think he may have figured me out.

Tonight the waiting was at last going to be over. My follow-up visit to the hospital had gone exceptionally well, with my ribs having been declared nearly healed, and I was down to just an ace bandage on my elbow. I didn’t wait to call Mulder with the good news, instead phoning him at work directly from the out-patient parking lot. Maybe I could convince him to take off early.

“Mulder, it’s me.” I didn’t bother to keep the smile out of my voice.

“Hey, Scully. How’d it go?” I was pleased to hear an answering smile.

“Just fine. I have to continue the physical therapy with my arm for another few weeks, but everything checked out okay.

I’m cleared to go back to work.”

“Hmmm…back to work, huh?” I could almost hear the gears of his mind turning my words over and over. When he finally spoke, his voice had dropped to a sexy murmur. “So, what I hear you telling me, Agent Scully, is that you’re up for strenuous physical activity again?”

Oh yes. Yesyesyes. And the sooner the better. “Uh-huh,” I breathed into the phone.

“There isn’t some test you have to pass first? You know, to make sure you’re really up to it? I wouldn’t want you to over-tax yourself before you’re ready.”

Ready? Was he kidding??? I had passed ready about three and a half years ago. “No, Mulder, there’s no test. The doctor just signed some forms.”

“Um, okay.” There was just a hint of worry in his voice and for the first time I realized he really was still concerned about my injuries. No no no. None of that tonight. I tried again to let him know that I was okay.

“You know, Agent Mulder, if for some reason you’re not satisfied with the doctor’s assessment, we could discuss the matter of my…physical capabilities at my place. Say in an hour?”

My answer was a muffled moan. “Sounds like it would be a stimulating discussion, Agent Scully. But I can’t make it just yet.”

“What? What do you mean `you can’t make it’?” My voice was overly-loud for the inside my car, but I couldn’t help it.

“I have four more sets of triplicates to fill out before I leave or Skinner will triplicate my ass,” he sighed mournfully. “I’m just not as fast at filling this stuff out as you, Scully.”

I briefly contemplated going in and giving him a hand.

Hmmm…the up-against-the-filing-cabinet scenario might be a viable possibility after all.

“No, Scully.” Mulder’s words brought me to my senses. Damn the man for reading my mind. “You come in here and not only will this crap will never get filled out, but Skinner might end up with something more…eye-catching…than paperwork to complain about.”

“Okay, okay.” I took a deep, shuddering breath. “So when?”

“How’s midnight?”

“Midnight? Mulder, a three-toed sloth could have the paperwork filled out by then.”

“Yeah, I know. But I’m going to have to run home first to change, and then there’s something else I have to pick up.”

Pick up? What could he possibly have to pick up at this point? Oh. “Mulder, I have those.”

“Huh?” he said, then a moment’s pause while he got my drift.

“Oh, Scully…” he laughed. “Though it gladdens my heart to know I have an ever-prepared partner, I’m pretty certain that you don’t have one of what I need to pick up.”

Okay, now I was suspicious. “Mulder, what exactly do you have in mind for this evening?”

“Uh, it’s probably better if I explain as we go, Scully.

I’m not sure words could do it justice.”

“Go?” I echoed. “Are we going somewhere at midnight, Mulder?”

“It’s not a school night,” he countered.

There was silence as I tried to figure out just what this latest twisted plan was that he had concocted without consulting me.

“It’ll be fun,” he insisted after a moment. “Trust me.”

“When do I not?” I sighed, resigning myself to the idea that it would be at least twelve hours before I got to slake my Mulderthirst. He could tell that I’d relented.

“Great!” he chortled. “I’ll pick you up at midnight.”

“Fine,” I said as I prepared to hang up the phone. His voice stopped me.

“Oh, and Scully…”

“Hmmm?”

“Wear something dangerous.”

I stared at the phone with the niggling feeling that maybe tonight was not going to be anything like I’d ever imagined.

My pulse picked up and I checked the clock on the dash.

Eleven hours, fifty eight minutes and counting.

− × −

At ten thirty-seven, I stood in front of my closet clad in my terry cloth robe, scrutinizing every article of clothing that I owned for something that might be considered remotely dangerous.

Nothing immediately leapt out at me, and I sighed. My job might be dangerous, but my wardrobe was strictly sensible.

I was going to have to make do with very limited resources.

Fortunately, I have a black-belt in resourcefulness.

By eleven forty-five, I was appraising my handiwork in the bedroom mirror. Not too bad, I decided as I raked my reflection from head to toe. I had paired my shortest black skirt with thigh-high black stockings to great effect. And while the midnight-blue sleeveless silk shell might not have ordinarily been labeled “dangerous”, when worn without a bra it certainly couldn’t be considered conservative. My usual three inch heels were in the form of velvet pumps this evening, and I had even gone as far as to paint my fingernails dark red. My hair, having dried naturally, now careened around my face in untamed copper waves. Does wild equal dangerous? I wondered.

I finished my make-up and checked my watch one more time.

Two minutes to go. I studied myself critically, trying to look with Mulder’s eyes.

With a last sudden inspiration, I slipped the watch band from my wrist and snapped in its place a black leather bracelet with silver studs that had been part of a gag-gift from Melissa for my thirtieth birthday. Okay, now I was ready.

He knocked on my door at precisely 12 am. I’m the antiCinderella, I thought. I leave for the ball at midnight.

I ran my hands over my hips, smoothing my skirt one last time as I moved to answer the door. There’s nothing to be nervous about, I told myself. It’s just Mulder.

Then I opened the door and I knew I had been right to be nervous.

Clad in black jeans, white tee-shirt, leather jacket and a smile, my partner was the incarnation of dangerousness.

“Hi,” he breathed softly.

My lips parted but no sound came out.

He stepped forward and leaned one arm high against the doorway, invading my personal space in a way that caused my heart to pound like a subway train. “I’m going to start suggesting outfits for you more often, Scully,” he said, his eyes holding mine. “You look incredible.”

“I…uh..” How was I supposed to think when he was standing so close to me I could feel warm layer of air that clung to his skin? “Uh…so do..so do you.” At last, some benevolent deity had returned my power of speech.

We stared at each other some more until he gave me a slow, lazy smile and jangled some keys before my eyes. “Can I interest you in a ride?”

I tried to focus my thoughts away from his heat, his scent, long enough to play the role I dressed for. “I don’t know,”

I told him with an arched eyebrow. “I’ve heard that a girl can get into trouble riding with strangers in fast cars.”

He eyed me speculatively from head to toe before answering.

“You seem like you could handle yourself okay. And I promise not to do anything you don’t want.”

I cocked my head at him. “Promise to do everything I do want and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

“I think I would enjoy that considerably,” he replied with a small smile.

I swallowed hard. Maybe we were going for fantasy number four hundred and sixty-seven this evening. That wouldn’t be so bad for the first time.

He waggled his keys again and I grabbed my purse. The sooner we got this drive out of the way, the sooner we could get to the Main Event. Because although I was pretty flexible about which direction we were going to take that evening, I was not going to make love to Mulder for the first time in a government-issued Taurus.

“Still not going to tell me where we’re going?” I asked as we exited the building.

“It’s not the where, Scully. It’s the how.”

Oh God, please don’t let him have rented a motorcycle. I was so not dressed for that. I scanned the vehicles parked in the immediate vicinity and thankfully, did not see a Harley anywhere. But neither did I see the Taurus.

“Umm..Mulder?”

“It’s around the corner. C’mon.” He grabbed my hand and tugged gently.

He tensed a bit as we neared the corner, and in retrospect I can understand why. I had been fooling myself when I thought that I had covered every angle, every circumstance, that might lead up to my first sexual encounter with Fox Mulder. No amount of forethought or imagination could have prepared me for the sight that greeted me from the curb. I couldn’t have been more surprised if he had flown to Georgetown in a genuine UFO. No, it was definitely not a motorcycle.

It was The Batmobile.

− × −

I stood frozen, gaping at the car, drinking in its sleek contours and prominent fins.

“So…do you, uh, like it?” he asked with a slight cough.

“Mulder, where on earth did you get this?”

“Uh…Lariat?”

I shook my head and shot him The Look. “Mulder…”

He walked over and tapped his fingers lightly on the hood, silent for a long moment. “I had it made,” he said finally.

“I had it designed and constructed about 10 years ago.”

I still hadn’t moved. I couldn’t. Not while my mind was still reeling. “Mulder, may I inquire as to why you spent what was probably an ungodly amount of money on a reconstruction of The Batmobile?”

He glanced at me, brow furrowed. “You hate it, don’t you?”

“No, I don’t hate it. I just don’t understand it. Maybe if you tried explaining it to me…”

He shrugged and gave a brief, self-conscious laugh. “I’m not sure I can explain it, Scully.”

“Try,” I suggested gently.

He was quiet again. “All right, I’ll explain while we drive. Okay?”

I crossed my arms in front of my chest and looked at the car skeptically. “It actually runs?”

“Does it ever.” He smiled for the first time since we’d rounded the corner. Then he opened one long, black door.

“Hop in.”

I hesitated for a moment before taking a deep breath.

Dangerous, remember? I told myself. That’s the theme of the evening. I repeated it internally like a mantra as I awkwardly maneuvered my body into the impossibly low seat.

A few seconds later Mulder joined me, and as I doublechecked my seat-belt, the engine roared to life. We were cruising down the backroads of D.C. in no time, headed out of the city.

“So Mulder,” I said after awhile. “Do you often woo women with superhero cars?”

“Scully, you should know by now that I don’t often woo women, period. And even if I did, I don’t think I would try to add to my impressive reputation for bizarre behavior by arriving at a woman’s doorstep in this baby.”

“So I’m here because…” I trailed off expectantly.

“Because I figure by now there isn’t anything I could do to convince you of my sanity, Scully. You’ve seen me drill holes in my head. How much further damage could a Batmobile do?”

“This is true,” I acknowledged with a single nod.

“However…”

“Yes, Scully?”

“Why the Batmobile, Mulder? I just don’t understand.”

“Well, I tried for Wonderwoman’s invisible jet but the specs were kinda hard to nail down.”

I was still too confused to laugh.

“Jeez, tough Batcar tonight,” he muttered.

I waited him out, refusing to give in to his attempts to gloss over emotion with humor. I was beginning to sense that this car was special to Mulder in a way that was deeply personal, and that it was important to him that I understood. So I continued waiting as he pulled the car out onto the highway.

“It’s ridiculous, really,” he said at last. “It hardly made sense at the time, much less so now.”

“Did you watch the show?” I asked.

“Watch?” he echoed. “I was like a druggie on IV heroin. I mean, I knew even at the time it was kind of…cheesy, but I loved it anyway. So did Samantha.”

Ahhh, now we were getting somewhere.

“It was the one TV program we didn’t argue about. In fact, we used to talk incessantly about what it would be like to own the car. I always said that I would build one someday.”

“Your parents must have enjoyed that dream,” I commented.

“Oh yeah, they laughed till I thought they’d split in two the first time I mentioned it. They spent ten minutes explaining why it was impossible for a car to do the things it did on TV. But-and I know you’re going to have a tough time believing me on this one-I was stubborn as a kid. I argued with everyone, about everything, especially if someone tried to tell me my ideas were ridiculous. The more impossible it was supposed to be, the more I wanted to try to do it.”

“This song does sound vaguely familiar,” I said dryly.

He gave a half-smile. “Dream the Impossible Dream,” he quoted. “The Fox Mulder theme song.”

“Anyway, one day I just decided to go ahead and do it,” he continued. “So I cashed in some stocks and bonds, hunted around for some guys willing to go along with my lunacy, and a few months later, voila…I was the proud owner of one Batmobile.

“Of course it doesn’t have all the bells and whistles of the original; you’d need a trick camera and a class of license the DMV doesn’t have for that one. But it’s damn close.”

“It is pretty amazing,” I told him softly as I looked around at the black leather interior.

“I knew you’d come around eventually,” he told me, his voice rich with humor. “Chicks always dig hot cars.”

“I thought you said you’d never had a woman in here before.”

I feigned a pique.

“Scully, you’re the only person, male or female, who has ever been in this car.”

This surprised me, and unexpected tears pricked my eyes. I had been right in sensing that this was a big deal, I just hadn’t guessed how much.

“Why me?” I blurted out. “Why now?”

“Ummm…I guess because for me this car has always been about making the impossible seem possible. And you…well, you do that for me, too. Especially now.”

“Oh, Mulder.” I never in a million years would have thought that being compared to the Batmobile would be the single most incredible thing anyone ever said to me. But there it was.

He reached over and twined our fingers together, and I brought his hand to my lips before returning it to my lap.

Goddamn, he could be sweet sometimes.

“Besides, it seems appropriate, don’t you think?” he said after a bit. “Consider the parallels at work here: Batman and Robin were partners, fighting a sometimes successful battle against the evil underbelly of Gothmam city, sacrificing a normal life to further the cause of justice, and it was all for the benefit of the clueless citizens who never seemed to realize how imperiled their comfortable little world really was.”

God, he actually had a point. I shivered. “This doesn’t make me Robin, does it? I really wouldn’t look good in the orange and yellow suit.”

“No, I would much prefer you in the black latex Catwoman wore.”

I laughed, covering my eyes with my free hand.

“Come on, Scully, let me hear you ‘Rrrowwwr’,” he said, and I laughed harder.

We fell into an easy silence then as Mulder powered the car swiftly over the road.

“This must be the ultimate ‘pull me over car’,” I commented after a number of miles.

“Why do you think I only take it out in the middle of the night,” he returned with a snort. Then he looked at me quizzically. “Hey, you wanna try driving it?”

“Uh, no, I don’t think…” I stopped suddenly. I was turning down an opportunity to drive the Batmobile? Not in this lifetime. “Yes,” I said flatly. “Yes, I would.”

He chuckled and pulled to the side of the road. “I should warn you,” he said as we got out to switch places, “driving a muscle car can bring out your more animal instincts.”

He palmed me the keys and my skin pricked to attention all at once. “You’ll have to live dangerously, then, won’t you?” I said lightly.

“Ooo…save me now,” he said in mock-falsetto. “I’m all atingle.”

We stood close, staring at one another, and for a fraction of a second I thought he was going to kiss me. But the moment passed and I was suddenly itching to get behind the wheel of that car.

“Mulder?” I said.

“Yes, Scully?”

I had to say it, I couldn’t help myself. “To the Batmobile.”

He grinned widely at me and we climbed back inside the incredible car.

Mulder was so right, I thought as I watched the front end of the car chew up the road in front me. The feeling of being in control of such a powerful machine was exhilarating. The smooth leather of the steering wheel massaged my hands as I steered the car rapidly through the night. We had long left the interstate and were now on some tree-lined country backroad that wound and twisted. I had no idea where we were, and I didn’t especially care. Not when the car beneath me was responding to my hands just as surely as I was to Mulder’s.

His hand had been warming the inside of my thigh since the instant I got behind the wheel. The faster I drove, the higher his fingers crept. Another 5 mph and he was going to be caressing my bare skin.

I pressed just a little harder on the pedal.

“Mmmm…no, slow down,” he murmured. “There’s a turn up here we need to take.”

A short time later we ran out of road at the top of a cliff, so I was forced to stop the car. We sat in silence for a few seconds, then Mulder gave my thigh a squeeze. “We’re here.”

“Come see,” he said moving to get out of the car. I nearly cried out with loss when he withdrew his hand from beneath my skirt. Soon, soon, I told myself as I exited the car and went to join my partner by the cliff’s edge.

The lights of D.C. glimmered far off, like candles on a distant birthday cake.

“Nice view,” I observed, since “take me now” seemed perhaps too abrupt an opening.

“Yes, it is,” he readily concurred. When I turned my head I realized he hadn’t been looking at the skyline. All right, enough was enough. I closed the distance between us with only one step, reaching for his hand as I did so.

“Mulder…do you think you are ever going to kiss me?”

His eyes locked with mine and he nodded slowly.

“Tonight?” I prodded.

He gave my hand an affectionate tug, his eyes glittering with sudden amusement. “Would you like to see the itinerary, Agent Scully?” he teased softly.

“No, I’m just thinking that someone needs to get this party started, and…”

He tugged harder this time and I fell rather ungracefully against him. We both let out a gasp at the delicious fullbody contact, each clutching the other tightly so that no one had an opportunity to back away. He inclined his head to mine so that our foreheads touched; we were both breathing unsteadily.

“Just so we’re clear,” he murmured, his breath warm against my face. “I plan on initiating that kiss in the next five seconds.”

I positioned my hand at the back of his neck and pushed lightly. “Too late,” I breathed just before his mouth found mine.

For a long moment we didn’t move, content to merely press our lips together lightly as the night sounds around us faded away and the world shrunk to encompass just the two of us.

Then I slid my hands beneath his leather jacket and the kiss began in earnest.

His lips brushed my mouth, once, twice, before coming to settle fully on mine. It was a soft kiss at the start, as our mouths met and clung gently but repeatedly. We’re actually kissing! I thought giddily. After six unbelievably long years I am finally kissing Fox Mulder and it is incredible.

It rapidly became even more incredible as Mulder moved his warm hands into my hair, angling my head just a bit so that he could deepen our kiss. His tongue played along my bottom lip and I immediately brought mine out to greet him with a tiny, answering lick.

He nipped me gently. “Tease,” he chided with a smile against my mouth. I smiled in answer and meshed our lips together once more. The kiss became hotter, wetter, as we set about the task of learning each other’s taste and texture.

Somewhere along the line I began to make tiny pleasure noises I couldn’t seem to control.

The sounds of my delight pushed Mulder further toward the edge, and he moved his hands down my back to cup my ass, pulling me even tighter against his lean length. One long leg worked itself between my thighs, causing my skirt to slide upward several inches. I moaned my approval into the kiss, and he responded by kneading the muscles in my rearend with the same rhythm his tongue was moving in and out of my mouth. My body parts were all throbbing in unison now, and I instinctively began to move against his hard thigh in a desperate effort to soothe the ache between my legs.

He pulled his lips from mine and groaned softly into my mouth. “God, Scully, what are you trying to do to me here?”

At that precise moment, I was trying to get him to lose the jacket, but my hands were shaking so hard it was difficult.

He took pity on me and shrugged out of the black leather, allowing it to fall into an undignified heap on the ground.

Instantly, I pulled his tee-shirt free from its confines so that I had access to bare Mulderskin. It was soft, warm and smooth beneath my fingertips.

Mine mine mine, I thought as I explored every silken contour.

We kissed again with more passion and less finesse. Mulder began inching me backwards toward the car and a few moments later I felt the hood against my lower back. Before I had time to get the picture, he’d hoisted me up so that I sat on the edge of the car. The height of the hood combined with the slant of the earth beneath it had the effect of equalizing our eye level.

Mulder nudged my legs apart and came to stand between them.

I kicked off my heels and locked my legs around his waist, my hands reaching for the hem of his tee-shirt. “This has been in my way for quite some time now,” I told him as pulled it up and off. He smiled at me and wordlessly repeated the action on my own top.

“Beautiful,” he murmured as he bent to kiss my newly exposed skin. I moaned softly, twining my hands in his hair. “So beautiful,” he repeated. His hot mouth was trailing wet kisses across my breast bone. With gentle pressure, he eased me back so I lay against the hood. My nipples stood out from arousal and the cool air, and I watched as he licked first one and then the other until they grew impossibly fat and hard. Then he began to suckle and for long moments I knew nothing but the feel of his mouth at my breasts. The night sky swam above me as I called out my pleasure in breathy gasps.

When Mulder had had his fill, he eased back off my body, pulling me upright as he moved. I held him him full against me, our nipples rubbing teasingly together as I captured his mouth for our deepest kiss yet. Once satisfied he wasn’t going to pull away, I worked my hand around to the hard ridge at the front of his jeans. I softly squeezed him and smiled when he bucked against my hand. I rubbed him gently for a moment through the stiff fabric and felt a thrill go through me as delight played across his face.

I moved to unfasten his pants, but it was difficult given the angle I was working with. Like the good partners that we are, however, Mulder and I together managed to pop the button on his jeans and tug the zipper down. My small hand was able to reach inside the tight confines of his pants to find him hard and hot under the cotton of his boxers.

“God, Scully..that’s so…god…”

It was nice to hear that I wasn’t the only one who was incoherent.

“Off,” I suggested, pushing the waistband of his pants down over his hips.

“Mmmm..off…off,” he agreed as he moved to help me.

Together we tugged his jeans and boxers down past his knees.

I curled my fingers around his width and smiled at his sudden intake of breath. He was long and hard and delicately curved in my hand. He leaned down to rest his forehead against mine and I could feel his breath hot on my face, his hands gripping my shoulders tightly as if to steady himself. “Like this?” I asked softly as I began to stroke him rhythmically up and down.

“Uh-huh. Oh, yeah.”

I paused briefly to lick my fingers, moistening them so that I could quicken the pace of his pleasure. His head fell back as I rubbed him less gently, and I could see the tendons standing out in his neck as he struggled to keep control. My free hand moved to caress the soft sacs of skin beneath his cock. I rolled them each in turn, then slipped one finger in back of them to find the tender stretch of skin located there. I pressed inward, and the reaction I received was intense and immediate.

Mulder groaned loudly through clenched teeth and abruptly pulled away from my hands.

“Enough,” he panted, eyes closed. “I won’t make it if we keep going like that.”

He clutched me tightly to his chest as his breathing slowed just a bit. “You’re incredible,” he said into my hair.

“Where did you learn to do that?”

I pulled back and gave him my most enigmatic smile. “Med school?”

He nuzzled my neck. “And they say a hundred thousand dollar education can’t buy you anything useful these days…”

Well, Oxford must teach some pretty interesting courses, too, because the next thing I knew Mulder was kissing me again as he stroked me purposefully through my damp underwear. Finally, he eased two fingers under the edge of my panties, and I began to pant as he had moments ago. The gentle pads of his fingers caressing my tender, swollen center was almost more than I could bear that this point.

“Off?” he questioned with a smile.

I nodded vigorously.

Mulder placed a light, open-mouthed kiss to the soft skin of my lower belly as he knelt to lower my underwear. The lace edge of my panties rasped against my sensitized upper thighs as he pulled the scrap of cloth down, down and then at last completely off.

As his tongue began to trace swirling patterns by the juncture of my hip and leg, I realized that my partner of six years was about to go down on me while I writhed on top the Batmobile.

Thank God.

My body jerked at the first touch of his tongue to my center and his hands clamped down on my thighs to hold me still. He sampled me with light, teasing licks that brought tears of need to my eyes.

“Mul…der.”

He hummed his answer against me and I nearly died with the pleasure of it. He gradually deepened the intimate kiss, using his broad tongue to sweep my folds with increasing pressure.

“Ah..oh!” I cried out when he pushed inside.

Ummmmsogoodsogood. I was starting to lose touch with reality.

His grip on my thighs slackened as he grew more concentrated, and my hips began to rise rhythmically to meet the rough touch of his tongue.

“Muller, um…yes..yes..” I was very close now.

Then abruptly his mouth left me and I moaned loudly, my lower body twitching with the loss of contact. He leaned over and kissed me swift and hard. “I want to see you,” he said, his wild eyes on mine as he slipped his hand between my legs once more. “I want to see you when it happens.”

“Yes…” I agreed harshly. Anything to have him touching me again. I arched as he reached one finger inside me and pressed upward.

“Good?” he breathed against my face.

I grit my teeth and nodded. Goodgoodgood.

I brought my heels up to rest on the hood so that I could open myself fully to his touch. He responded by pushing a second finger inside me and circling my clit with light pressure.

“I…oh…” My pelvis arched and jerked against his hand, momentarily losing the rhythm.

He leaned down so his face hovered near mine, both of us panting in unison. “Don’t fight it,” he murmured. “Let me take you there, let me do it. That’s it.”

His fingers moved in and out of my body with increasing speed, matching the rhythm set by my hips. The waves of pleasure were crashing over me with increasing speed now, and my vision began to blur. Mulder braced himself on the hood of the car with his free arm, his hand cupping my face and brushing the hair from my eyes. I turned my head to lick his palm.

All the while his fingers worked inside me, driving me closer and closer to sweet oblivion. It was so close now I could taste it.

“Mmmm…I want..oh..I need…” I felt the edge but couldn’t quite make myself reach for it. The swamping pleasure was so intense that I was afraid to give myself over too completely.

“It’s okay,” Mulder encouraged hoarsely. “Let go, Scully.

I’m here, I’ll catch you.”

I focused on his face for as long as I could when my body began to shake and tense. Yesyesyes. Finally. The orgasm held me in thrall for ages, repeatedly buffeting my body with racking pleasure as I cried out from the sheer intensity of feeling.

When I finally returned to myself, Mulder was pressed close against me, murmuring words of love and praise into my ear.

“That was so unbelievably beautiful, Scully. I can’t tell you how incredible that was.”

“‘S my line…” I corrected, still feeling like a spineless mass of sensitive nerve endings.

Eventually I recovered enough to remember that we still had unfinished business. I felt around until I found him, still hot and huge against my thigh. He pushed himself roughly into my hand.

“Mulder, it’s time,” I said, stroking him gently. “Be in me now.”

He turned his head up to me. “So soon? You sure?”

“I’m sure. No more waiting. I want you inside me.”

Instead of mobilizing him, my words seemed to bring him up short. He closed his eyes and rubbed his head against my breasts. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear you say that,” he told me in a choked voice.

I gave him an impulsive hug. “Then let’s not wait any longer,” I urged, maneuvering him into place.

“Wait, wait…”

Now what?

He ducked down and momentarily disappeared from my view, returning with a triumphant grin and a foil packet in hand.

“Forgot the party favors,” he murmured, and I smiled.

I watched through slitted eyes as he made himself ready for me. Hurry, I thought, and then he was leaning over me once more.

I whimpered when the head of his cock touched the sensitive, swollen flesh between my legs. He arched back away from me like I’d burned him. “Too much?”

“No no no. More, please.”

Again I felt him brush my opening and I held my breath. I think he held his, too.

I was so wet and open that the head slipped easily inside.

We paused, released a shaky breath and smiled weakly at one another.

“Okay?” he asked, searching my face for signs of discomfort.

He would find none.

“Oh yes.” I closed my eyes to better enjoy the sensation of Mulder inside me. “Keep going.”

He pushed further inside my body and I could feel my internal muscles stretching to accommodate him. They twinged and pulled as they grasped him tightly in welcome.

When he was fully inside we paused to give my muscles a chance to adjust completely, and this time was well spent exchanging soft kisses and goofy smiles.

At last he began to move, slowly at first and then with gaining speed as strands of ecstasy wound tighter around us.

We found our rhythm easily and soon we were moving fluidly together like one single organism.

“Scu..lee…so good, so good, sweet Scully..” he panted against me.

I was not verbal at this point so I answered him by licking the salty skin of his neck and tightening my legs around his ass. The rolling waves of pleasure were beginning to pour over me again, but I didn’t fear them this time. Instead, I closed my eyes and concentrated on the feel of Mulder’s cock pulsing inside my body. Inoutinout. My internal muscles clenched him tightly as I moaned with the onslaught of my orgasm.

“Mmmm…gonna come,” he announced soon after, closing his eyes against the tide of feelings.

“Yes,” I managed to say, holding him securely in my arms as he thrust once, twice and then held himself deep inside me, shaking and moaning as I had.

We lay collapsed on the hood for quite some time as our breathing and heart rates returned down from the stratosphere. Rubbing my hands over his hair, I searched my heart for something to say that would capture what an astounding experience it had been, making love with him for the first time. I thought hard, but everything that occurred to me seemed trite or cliched.

Then Mulder grinned up at me and quickly put the issue to rest.

“Holy cow, Batman,” he said.

Yes, I thought. Exactly.

The End

− × −

AUTHOR’S NOTES, TAKE TWO: This was my first attempt at smut, and I would be especially pleased to know if it did or did not work for you. Roberta, I’m sorry, I just couldn’t work in Mulder wearing Scully’s underwear this time, but if I get so inspired in the future, I’ll be sure to let you know. =)

---

Go to main book page