Title: Free Time
Author: ML
Originally Posted on 6/4/02
Distribution: Kimpa, always; Enigmatic Dr., yes; anyone else, please ask first (I’ll probably say yes).
Spoilers: none
Rating: R
Classification: Vignette
Disclaimer: These characters are not mine, they belong to Chris Carter, TenThirteen, and Fox Broadcasting. I mean no infringement, and I’m making no money.
Summary: After a case in Northern California, Mulder and Scully find themselves with time on their hands.
=====
Free Time
by ML
Mussel Beach was a tiny town, and not easy to get to. Now Mulder and Scully were finding it just as difficult to get out. The deputy was not unsympathetic to their plight, but he wasn’t particularly helpful, either.
“You could drive,” the deputy was saying, “but you’ll probably have to go all the way to San Francisco to catch a flight out today. It’ll be a long ride in these conditions, and with the roads as bad as they are.”
They’d flown into the Humboldt airport two days before, on a beautiful sunny day. Now the fog was socked in so tight that no planes could take off or land, and this was evidently a common occurrence in this neck of the woods.
It was hard to believe that the fog could be so thick and cold on a summer day, when she knew hundred-degree temperatures lurked not even sixty miles east of them. The sixty miles might just as well be six hundred, since they would have to drive a long way either north or south to find a road to cross the mountain range.
They took their leave of the deputy and stood outside the sheriff’s office on the main street. It was hard to see any distance; the one stop light barely showed in the thick whiteness surrounding them. All sounds were muffled. Scully thought she could hear gulls somewhere above them, and a foghorn somewhere in the distance.
“What do you want to do, Scully?” Mulder asked. “We don’t have a lot of choices here. I’m sure they could still accommodate us at the Shell Motel.”
The Shell Motel was a new low in lodgings for them, and it was the only game in town. When they’d arrived, Scully was sure the fact that the “S” in the sign flickered out was a bad omen, if she believed in such things.
“I’d rather take my chances on the road,” Scully said. “I’ll sleep in the car rather than spend another night here.”
“Be honest now, Scully. Don’t hold back,” Mulder grinned. “But, I have to agree. Let’s take our chances on the road, shall we? Maybe we’ll outrun the fog before we get to San Francisco.”
That was a pretty optimistic assessment. They checked out of the motel and headed south, away from Mussel Beach and toward civilization.
“Mussel Beach was not what I thought it would be,” Mulder remarked as he drove slowly along. The cliffside road was narrow and pocked with potholes, not to mention hairpin turns. “How `bout you, Scully? Not too many muscle men that I could see.”
“You must be thinking of `Muscle Beach,’ Mulder,” Scully replied. “That’s down near Los Angeles, and it’s not spelled the same. I didn’t know you were so interested in body builders.”
“I’m not, really,” Mulder said. “But sunshine, a nice beach, you in a bikini…” he turned and smiled a wicked smile at her.
Scully smiled back, which changed Mulder’s expression into something very comical. She said, “In your dreams, Mulder.”
“Very frequently, G-Woman. Very frequently.” Mulder held her gaze for a long moment before he turned his attention back to the road.
This was different, Scully reflected. Not Mulder’s teasing, but the admission of his blatant longing for her. She was less open about her feelings, though he knew how she felt. She just showed it in more oblique ways.
So far, there’d been nothing more between them other than a few kisses now and then, and a lot of meaningful glances. In typical fashion, neither had spoken aloud about what they both knew was inevitable. Some time soon, they would go beyond kisses and caresses, and actually make love.
It was obvious to them both that they had the desire, just not the opportunity, to carry things further. They’d been doing a lot of traveling lately, and Scully had always been adamant about not mixing the personal with the professional. Besides, to her way of thinking, there was something sad and seedy about consummating their relationship in one of the fleatrap motels they usually ended up in.
Mulder hadn’t really offered an opinion on the matter, but he was always very circumspect with Scully. He’d made his interest known, and he’d as much as told Scully that it was now up to her. He reminded her through his touch and his kisses, but other than that, he never pressed the issue.
She looked out the passenger window. The edge of the road looked like the edge of the world, too. She knew that somewhere below them, the ocean lay; that there was a horizon, and more land beyond that, all out of sight. Logically she knew it was all there, though she couldn’t see it.
She looked ahead, her eyes narrowed against the white glare of the fog. A fitting metaphor for our work, she thought. Always battling the insubstantial, the thing that hides the truth from us. Is that how Mulder sees it? Probably not. He’s not a fanciful man, whatever he believes in.
Scully kept her eyes ahead but let her hand wander over to brush against Mulder’s. He caught it up and kissed it, his eyes never leaving the road.
“What’s on your mind, Scully?” he asked in a low voice.
“I just wondered if we’d ever go on a case where there was a decent place to stay, and a decent restaurant nearby,” she said. “Do you think that’s too much to ask?”
“Me, I always hoped we’d have to investigate an X-File in Hawaii,” Mulder said, “but the best we’ve been able to do is Florida. During hurricane season, unfortunately.” He squeezed her hand and placed it on his thigh, keeping his hand on top, rubbing his fingers over hers.
Closer, all the time closer. She felt like a kid on an interminable car trip. When are we gonna get there? Except in her head, it sounded like Mulder’s voice doing the whining.
After what seemed like hours, they turned off the cliff road and onto a slightly better maintained one, only to be stuck behind a large logging truck that was in no hurry to get anyplace, and took his half of the road out of the middle. He reluctantly drifted over to the right lane only when an oncoming car forced him to do so.
Mulder muttered rude words under his breath, both hands tense on the wheel. Scully could see he was about to do something regrettable. She lightly massaged his thigh with her fingers and felt him jerk in surprise, then relax a little. Made bolder by his tacit permission, she continued to stroke his leg softly, a lazy circular motion that changed his swearing to pleased humming.
“I’ll give you a couple of hours to stop that, Scully,” he rasped, and she could feel the desire vibrating through his voice.
That wasn’t all she felt, as her fingers explored a little further afield. He jumped a little as she brushed against something more rigid, and definitely hotter, than his thigh muscle. It didn’t take Mulder’s gasp to know what it was.
She started to withdraw her hand and Mulder stopped her. “Don’t, Scully. Just be careful, okay? I don’t want to drive us off the road.”
She complied, but she kept her hand still. Mulder folded his hand over hers once more, occasionally flexing his fingers to give her a squeeze. They drove on in silence. Eventually the truck turned off, leaving them alone in the fog again.
Scully felt like they were in their own small universe, nothing but the blanket of white swirling around them. Nothing was real but the interior of the car, the two of them together. She felt hidden from the view of the prying eyes she always felt were upon them in DC. Oddly, it made her feel free.
What are we waiting for now? she thought. I want him, he wants me, and I’ve been dragging my feet for all kinds of reasons that seemed like good ones at the time. I’m tired of waiting. I’m sure he is, too.
“Mulder,” she said suddenly. “What’s today?”
“It’s Friday, Scully. Why? Are you missing an appointment or something?”
“No, I’m not,” she said. “The opposite, in fact. It appears that we have some free time. How often does that happen?”
Mulder glanced over at her. “I’m not sure I follow you, Scully.”
“Well, we’re not expected back in the office until next week, right? Our case is closed, and our time is our own.”
“So what you’re saying is…” Mulder had the hint of a grin on his face, and she wanted to see more than a hint.
“I think we should stop the car for a bit, maybe in the next town we come to,” Scully said.
“And…?” Mulder glanced over at her again.
Scully smiled. “The rest is up to you,” she said in a silken voice, and watched the grin on his face grow larger.
She suspected that it wasn’t the only thing on Mulder growing larger along about now. She hoped not, anyway.
Now that she’d made a decision of sorts, the sense of suspended time was gone. She just wanted to get there, somewhere, and end this limbo.
After another interminable amount of time, a sign loomed out of the fog. “Upper Albion, five miles,” Scully read.
“Ever hear of it?” Mulder asked.
“No, and it’s not on the map. But then, neither was Mussel Beach,” Scully said.
“You wanna take a chance that it’s better than Mussel Beach?”
“Mulder, I think anything would be better than Mussel Beach.”
“You’re on,” he said, and took the turnoff.
The road wasn’t much better than before. It wound down and around the hills, getting closer and closer to the ocean until it seemed that they would drive right into it. Finally they rounded a last rise and drove down again. Scully could begin to make out the shapes of buildings, and before she knew it they were on Main Street.
Mulder found a parking place and pulled in. “It’s about lunch time,” he said. “Let’s find a place to eat and explore our options.”
They got out of the car and met on the sidewalk. Without hesitation, Mulder took her hand and they turned together to walk along the street. It felt good, his large warm hand surrounding hers. He seemed to have caught the same idea — they were outside of their normal world, that they could do what they liked without fear of observation.
The buildings along the street were mostly wooden, and weathered from the damp sea air. Invisible gulls cried overhead, and though they couldn’t see the ocean, Scully could hear the muted roar of the waves. It was soothing, and added to the unreal quality this day had.
They found a cafe and before long had steaming bowls of soup and fresh cornbread in front of them. Mulder excused himself to talk to the cashier a moment and came back with a handful of brochures.
“Thought you’d like to look these over,” he said, laying them on the table.
They were for local bed and breakfast places. Typical Mulder. He was still giving her options, giving her an out. If she said she wanted to keep going toward San Francisco, he’d comply without another word.
“Let’s stroll around after lunch and check things out,” she suggested. Two could play at this game.
x-x-x-x
They were almost ready to give up when Scully spotted a sign pointing down a narrow gravel driveway.
“Shell House,” the sign read. “Bed and Breakfast.”
They walked down the drive together, Mulder making a point of scrunching the gravel under his feet when Scully remarked that she liked the sound.
It was about as different from the Shell Motel as it could get. A scarlet bougainvillea climbed up the side of the house, contrasting with the yellow and white of the clapboard structure. The garden was bright with all kinds of summer flowers. There was a bench just outside the gate, and Scully sat down, enjoying the view.
Mulder said, “Wait here a moment,” and went in the front door. He came out not a minute later, smiling.
“We’re in luck, Scully,” he said. “They’ve had a cancellation. Is this okay?”
She nodded. Mulder went back inside and before long returned once again. “The room won’t be ready until later this afternoon. Guess we’ll have to play tourist for a while.”
Scully felt both relief and disappointment. Part of her just wanted to get “it” over with; the other part was thrilled to be able to savor the anticipation.
“Don’t look so stricken, Scully,” Mulder said. “I’m sure we’ll find something to do. Maybe just find a corner on the beach and make out for a couple of hours. What d’ya say?” He waggled his eyebrows at her, and she had to laugh.
“Let’s play tourist,” she said.
The afternoon passed more quickly than she thought it would. They seldom had the opportunity to spend down time with each other. It was such a novelty to be together, not on a case, just being themselves. Scully always had a secret fear that they’d have no compatibility, no common ground, outside of the work and their attraction to each other. It was comforting to know that they were capable of talking to each other outside of both contexts.
They mostly window-shopped, though they discovered that they both liked the same kind of landscape paintings and spent a lot of time in a gallery that featured local artists. There were other shops that Mulder couldn’t be persuaded to join her in, but he was willing to wander on his own while she browsed.
She came out of one shop to find Mulder holding an ice cream cone. He offered her some, teasing her about the tofutti cone she’d brought to the office once.
“Come see how real ice cream tastes, Scully,” he said. “You’ll never go back, I swear.”
She complied, holding his hand steady as she leaned over the cone to take a lick. Mulder leaned in at the same time, and she was startled to feel the contrast of his warm tongue lapping the cold ice cream next to hers.
Ice cream forgotten in favor of a tastier treat, she curled her tongue around to claim his and their mouths met over the melting cone, tangling tongues slippery with sweet cream.
They broke apart, eyes wide, both panting slightly. “You’re right,” she murmured. “I’ll never go back.”
“Let’s go see if our room is ready,” he suggested, eyes dark with lust.
x-x-x-x
The door was barely shut when he took her in his arms, and his mouth fastened over hers. She clutched at his shoulders, braced to keep him from bending her over backward with his ferocious onslaught. His arms pulled her tight against him as he ground against her, hips and mouth inciting an answering ferocity in her.
Then, as quickly as he’d begun, he released her, holding her steady as he stepped back. If he hadn’t still been gripping her shoulders, she was sure she would have melted to the floor.
“Wh-what was that all about?” Scully asked as she caught her breath. “Why’d you stop?” Her voice sounded a little plaintive, but she was beyond caring.
“Payback for the ice cream,” he said with a grin. “Also, preview of coming attractions. Come on, our dinner reservation is in less than an hour, and I don’t want to start something I have no intention of stopping any time soon.”
“Dinner? Reservations? Where, Mulder?”
“Yeah, dinner, Scully. You remember dinner? That sometimes you get it on a plate, not in a takeout carton? Imagine being in a town with a nice place to stay *and* a decent restaurant. I figured we should take advantage of it, don’t you think so?” He tucked her hair back and cupped her cheek, letting his thumb drift over her lips. “I’ll go downstairs and give you a chance to freshen up without distractions,” he said.
“Mulder, has anyone told you that you’re a tease?”
“Amazingly enough, no,” he said.
“Then let me be the first,” she said. “You are definitely a tease.”
“No, I’m not,” he said. “I just don’t want you to think I’m easy. I expect dinner first. Fair’s fair. I bought you ice cream.”
“You gave me a lick of your cone, Mulder,” Scully corrected him.
“Oh, you’ll get your licks in, Agent Scully,” he said, deadpan. “I have no doubt of that.”
Scully wasn’t sure if she wanted to kiss him or kill him. That restored her equilibrium better than anything; it was a very familiar dilemma.
x-x-x-x
Whatever strings Mulder had to pull to get them a reservation at such short notice, and a table by the window, Scully wasn’t going to ask any questions. When had the fog started to clear? It was still hazy, but she could see a little sky above, and the hint of what was going to be a beautiful sunset.
She still had the sense of them being the only occupants in their world, despite the fact that they were now sitting in a crowded dining room. She picked up her wine glass and sipped, her eyes never leaving Mulder. He met her gaze as he sipped his own wine. There was that invisible, silent connection between them, a taut thread that no one else could see or comprehend. She knew what he was thinking, just as he knew what she thought. She felt a trembling start deep within her.
The arrival of their entrees broke the spell a little, and Scully was grateful for the return of more mundane forms of communication. She was having a hard enough time maintaining control as it was.
Later, Scully wouldn’t remember what they ate. She wouldn’t even remember seeing the sunset. But she remembered every nuance of Mulder’s expression. The way he smiled, the way his eyes never seemed to leave her face. How he listened to her with his full concentration, and how he pursed his lips in thought as he considered what to say in reply. They talked of ordinary things through most of dinner, occasionally touching on work and past cases. Scully purposely avoided references to any that might touch too deep a chord, that might ruin the mood for them.
She wondered fleetingly what it would be like for them if they decided to leave the FBI behind, leave DC, start a life somewhere else in jobs that weren’t so dangerous. She wasn’t sure they could.
Mulder chose that moment to ask, “Did you ever think of the possibility that sometime we might just need to disappear?”
“Not recently, no,” she said. Leaving the FBI voluntarily was one thing, disappearing was quite another. “Do you?”
“Every now and then,” he said. “Not lately, but there have been times.”
“We almost had to, once. Are you saying that it’s still a possibility?”
“There might come a time again, you never know,” Mulder said.
“Why are you bringing it up now, Mulder?” Scully asked.
“I know what you’re thinking: `way to kill a mood, Mulder’,” he gave her a lopsided grin. “It’s just that…if I had to go, if *we* had to go, this would be the kind of place I’d hope to find.”
“And do what, Mulder? Open up a bed and breakfast?”
“No, I’d think of something. Palm reading, maybe. Or I could write mystery novels under a pseudonym. Or we could co-write them. I’ll do the sex scenes.”
“Mulder.” Scully couldn’t help it, he’d brought up a subject that cut too close to the bone, but he was, in typical Mulder fashion, finding a way to joke about it.
He reached for her hand, and she allowed him to take it. “Bottom line, it wouldn’t matter where, Scully, as long as you were with me. Could be Antarctica, or a shack in the desert.”
“Mulder…” her tears made the candle on the table go all shimmery. She seemed incapable of saying anything else.
He squeezed her hand. “Don’t be scared, Scully. I’m just sayin’.”
She swallowed and whispered raggedly, “I feel the same way, Mulder. No matter where.”
He smiled then, a new kind of smile, unlike any she’d ever seen on him. She thought she’d seen his full repertoire of smiles, smirks, and grins. This one seemed to suffuse her with warmth, to envelop her in his embrace when all he was doing was touching her hand. And smiling.
He was saying something now, speaking in a very low tone. “Would it look too obvious if we left now and went back to the house? I don’t want to attract too much attention.” He’d added a spark in his eyes to that devastating smile, and all Scully could do was nod.
Mulder put his arm around her as they left the restaurant, and she did her best not to tense up as he did so. He leaned down to whisper to her, his lips just brushing the edge of her ear. “It’s okay, Scully. I’m nervous, too.”
They walked the rest of the way back to Shell House in silence.
x-x-x-x
While they’d been at dinner, someone had come in and turned down the bed and lit the fire. The lights were low, but the sight of the bed loomed large in Scully’s vision as they entered the room. She half expected Mulder to jump her as he had before, and almost wished for it. That way there’d be no need to think about it any more.
She glanced over at Mulder. He seemed as paralyzed as she was. It’s not a possibility any more, she thought. It’s reality. We’re about to put theory into practice.
Mulder cleared his throat slightly. “You can have the bathroom first, Scully.”
x-x-x-x
Scully sat in the chair by the fire in their room, waiting for Mulder to be done in the bathroom. She didn’t want to get into bed and wait there; it was too much like a honeymoon already, it was beginning to unnerve her.
There seemed no way to make this feel less like a wedding night. The exchange at dinner had seemed almost like vows to her. It wasn’t the first time they’d exchanged words freighted with extra meaning, but never when they were on the point of taking the words and turning them into something else.
The sound of the bathroom door opening startled her. Mulder stood there. He had on a pair of pajama bottoms and a shy expression. It was a beguiling combination. He walked slowly over to where Scully sat. To her surprise, knelt in front of her and laid his head in her lap, wrapping his arms around her waist.
“I can’t believe I’m really here, that this is you I’m touching,” he said, and his simple words undid her.
She leaned over him and stroked his hair. “Me, too,” she said. “I’ve felt like that all day.”
He stood up, and held out his hand to her. She stood too, and was surprised when he sat in her place and pulled her into his lap. He held her close, just smoothing his hand over her hair. “I just want you to know that this isn’t a one-time thing for me,” he said. “This is just the beginning of something I’ve wanted for a long time.”
“I know,” she said. “I know.” She nuzzled her cheek against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart, his chest hair tickling her.
Mulder put his fingers under her chin and tilted her head up to press his lips against hers. It was the gentlest kiss they’d shared so far that day. Mulder rubbed his lips softly back and forth over Scully’s, alternating with his tongue. Scully opened to him, wanting to taste him the same way. She held his face in her hands, her thumbs enjoying the smoothness of his cheeks. She realized with a start that he must have shaved again for her, and his little thoughtfulness moved her beyond all reason.
They stayed in the chair in front of the fire for some time, touching and kissing and murmuring endearments. Scully was in a haze of bliss. She wasn’t sure who stepped up the pace first, Mulder or her, but gradually their touches became more urgent. Mulder shifted in the chair, and she could feel the ridge of his erection now, and her bones turned to liquid.
“Mulder,” she said, and she almost didn’t recognize her voice. It was breathy, and deep, and vibrated with need.
“Hmmm?” he was kissing his way down her throat and in the process of pushing her collar out of the way to go a little further.
“Mulder, you can’t be comfortable like this,” she said, shifting a little.
“I’m good,” he mumbled as he suckled on her collar bone. Then what she was saying seemed to penetrate his consciousness. He looked up at her, a gleam in his eyes. “Oh, I get it,” he said. “Now that you mention it, I could use a little more room,” and he stood up, taking her with him.
“Mulder, put me down!” Scully demanded, and ever obedient, he deposited her on the bed, where she landed with a little bounce. She couldn’t help it; she giggled.
Mulder stared at her, amazed. “Do that again,” he said.
Now she was embarrassed. “Do what?”
“You know, make that sound you just did.”
She felt it bubble up inside her again, just because she’d pleased Mulder, but she tamped it down and said, “Make me.”
“Oh, you’re gonna be sorry, Scully,” he said, and the gleam in his eyes turned feral. He crawled onto the bed and toward her, and Scully backed up toward the headboard, scrabbling to gain a purchase on the covers with her feet.
He lunged at her and caught her hands easily, throwing one leg over both of hers and pinning her down.
They stared each other down for a moment, and she no longer felt like giggling. Mulder paused and looked at her, his eyes scanning over her face. Then he swooped down on her mouth again. He released her hands and let his roam where they would, fumbling at the buttons of her pajamas as he plunged his tongue into her mouth, biting, licking, sucking with abandon.
Scully writhed beneath him, running her hands over his chest, finding his nipples and circling around them. She was rewarded by a little moan from Mulder. Emboldened by this, she let her hands go a little lower, and felt his stomach quiver as she touched him. She wanted to go even lower, but was hindered by Mulder’s efforts at undressing her. She helped him there, her smaller fingers sure where his fumbled.
When she lay bared before him, he stopped and just looked at her. She blushed a little at his scrutiny, suddenly self- conscious under his gaze.
Then, swift as lightning, he lowered his mouth to her breast, and she stopped worrying about anything. All her concentration was on what Mulder was doing to her, what he made her feel as he pulled gently but firmly on her nipple, feeling the tug of his mouth reverberate through her entire body. She arched up, unable to control herself.
“Oh,” she heard herself say. “Oh, don’t stop…” She felt him smile against her breast, felt his teeth scrape her nipple just enough to send sparks of pleasure through her. Then he switched to her other breast and the wondrous sensations started all over again.
She touched him wherever she could, from his head down to his shoulders and arms, and as much of his chest as she could reach. She didn’t want him to stop, but she wanted to be able to reciprocate. Finally she pushed lightly against his shoulder.
He was a little slow to react. He looked up, his eyes glazed. The air felt cool on her nipples after they’d been in Mulder’s warm hands and mouth. “Let me touch you, too,” she whispered, and she watched his eyes dilate in response.
He took her hand in his and held it against his chest. She scooted lower, pressing her palm against him, letting it drift lower until it got to the waistband of his pants. She paused but an instant and then cupped her hand around the hard, heavy mass of his groin, grasping it lightly through the cloth. Mulder hissed his approval as she let her fingers play over his length.
After a short time he gently pulled her hand away, and gathered her to him. She pressed her body against the length of him, undulating just enough to create a little friction between them. Mulder held her close, his hands grasping her hips and then her buttocks, pulling her into him, pulsing against her center. She couldn’t have begun to describe how she felt. She whimpered the tiniest bit as Mulder began to kiss her again, pulling her pajama bottoms down, encouraging her do to the same for him.
They were finally completely bared to each other, body and soul. Scully reached out for Mulder, sliding her hand down his body to fondle him. Mulder returned the favor, pressing his hand against her center, letting his fingers slip into the slick warmth within.
It was almost too much. The words “spontaneous human combustion” crossed Scully’s addled brain, and she heard herself giggle again.
Mulder grinned at her, but didn’t stop what he was doing. “Ticklish, Scully?”
“I said you were a tease,” she said breathlessly.
He kissed her again, and slowly removed his hand. “Guess I’ll have to prove you wrong,” he said. He rolled her over on her back, and centered himself at the apex of her thighs. He reached for her hand, and together they guided him into her.
They both were trembling. Scully shut her eyes and breathed in slowly, wanting to savor the moment. She wanted to look at Mulder but she was afraid that if she did, the sight of him would send her right over the edge, much too soon for both of them.
When she was finally able to open her eyes, the rapture on Mulder’s face was almost enough to make her come right then. She felt something deep inside her coalesce and then begin to spread from her center out, filling her with an indescribable ecstasy. She clung to Mulder, and felt the change in him, too, as his rhythmic strokes grew erratic. He shuddered to a stop shortly after Scully, burying his face in the crook of her neck as his body stilled against her.
She lay holding him to her breast for a long time, reluctant to let time move on. She liked the feeling of him still sheathed in her, and she held him close, even after he began to come back to himself and tried to move.
“Come on, Scully, I must be smothering you,” he said, dragging his body over to lie beside her. She shivered at the loss of his warmth. He pulled the covers up over them and gave her a gentle kiss. “Thank you,” he said softly.
She smiled at him. “For what, Mulder? Doing something I’ve wanted to do for I don’t know how long?”
He smiled back and kissed her again. “For wanting to,” he said simply. He lay on his back, pulling her to rest against his side.
Mulder always had the power to render her speechless. She kissed him back and rested her head against his shoulder. She felt him fall asleep, still holding on to her. She lay listening to his soft breathing until she, too, succumbed.
x-x-x-x
Scully woke up first in the morning. She carefully extricated herself from Mulder’s arms and went in to bathe. When she came back out, Mulder was still asleep.
He’d thrown the rest of the covers off, and Scully stopped short of the bed to look at him. He was an amazing sight, and one Scully would never tire of. Mulder’s head thrown back, eyes shut tight but lips slightly parted. His lips looked moist and luscious even now, and it made her want to kiss him again, to fasten her mouth over his and savor the feel of his tongue sliding over her own.
For the moment, she contented herself with worshipping him only with her eyes. She appreciated his form the way an art connoisseur might a sculpture. A work of art he certainly was, and one displayed for her private pleasure alone. He was so beautiful. She knew that body parts individually were not inherently beautiful, but as parts of a whole, and associated with all the other elements that made Mulder who he was, he was breathtaking.
He lay on his side turned toward her and the early morning light delineated the fine, strong muscles of his arm and flank. As she watched, he shifted and turned to lie on his back. Now she could appreciate the full tableau. She came closer to the bed, letting her eyes roam from his silky eyelashes to his distinctive nose and mouth and strong jaw. She recalled the trickles of sweat trailing down his temple the night before, dampening his dark hair against his head, and the throb of his heart against hers. She remembered the sweat beaded in the hollow of his throat, forming a small oasis into which she could dip her tongue. The taste of Mulder was a salty treat she could never get enough of.
She continued her tour, following the trail of hair on his abdomen to where it bloomed again as the resting place for his cock. Though at the moment, “resting” didn’t seem to be the operative word…
“Done with the inspection, Scully?” Mulder asked in a raspy morning growl that sent shivers down Scully’s spine. He turned on his side again and propped himself up on his elbow. “See anything you like?”
“Everything,” she said, and rejoined him.
She might have been back in DC today, alone in her apartment. She would not yet have tasted the joy of making love with Mulder, of discovering how he looked and sounded when he was completely happy.
Instead, she was here, lying next to him, sated from a night of mutual ecstasy. She’d learned so much about Mulder in the past twenty-four hours, and he’d discovered just as much about her.
What a difference a day makes.
“Mulder, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you planned this,” she whispered as she slid alongside him, enjoying the way his flesh quivered as she rubbed her thigh along his. “But I don’t think you’ve learned how to control the weather the way Holman Hardt could.”
“Scully,” he replied in a sleepy but nonetheless arousing whisper, “if it could get you into bed with me, I’d learn anything.”
end.
Author’s notes: This was a challenge to use at least 15 words off of a list of 142 “favorites” compiled by members of the list. I used about 77 of them, to wit: arched, arouse(d), beaded, beguiling, bite, caress(ed), cock, curled, damp, delirious, desire, drove, ecstasy, envelop, erect(ion), feral, fondle, gasp, grind(ground), grip(ped), head, hollow, hot, hum, lean(ed), lick, love, luscious, lust, massage, moan, moist, nipple, nuzzle, pant(ed), penetrate, plunge, quiver, rapture, rasp(ed,y), reverberate, rhythmic, ridge, rigid, roar, rub(bed), sated, savor, scrape, sheathed, shiver, shudder, silken, slick, steam(ing), stroke(d), succumb(ed), suckle(d), sweat(y), tangle, taut, tease, throb, tickle, trace, trail, tremble, undid, undulate, vibrate(d), whimper, worship(ped)
Some I used more than once, sometimes in different contexts. I think they all survived the editing process; if not, sorry `bout that!
Location notes: There’s a Humboldt County in Northern California, and plenty of little tiny towns. And yes, it can be very foggy all times of the year, but especially so when the inland areas are suffering under a heat wave. It’s not unusual for flights to be canceled in the smaller airports due to foggy conditions.
Mussel Beach is a fictitious town, as is Upper Albion, and I’ve played fast and loose with a few geographical features to suit the story. Any similarities to a real place is pure dumb luck on my part.