AFFIRMATION (1/1) by viXen Posted: April 8, 1997 ***DO NOT POST TO A.T.X.C.*** Archivists: Please archive but keep my name and intro attached. Summary: Mulder/Scully romance. Mulder is called in to identify the body of Dana Scully. Timeline/Spoilers: Near future. One tiny mention of Duane Barry. Classification/Rating: SRA, NC-17 Disclaimer: I don't own Fox Mulder and Dana Scully. They belong to CC, 1013 and Fox. However, Dr. Mark Redmond is my creation. Notes: An answer to the challenge about the US magazine photo of DD and GA in the morgue (my apologies: when I wrote this I didn't know about the second part to the photo that showed GA also had a toe tag. For this story, pretend she didn't ;-). Yup, an NC-17 rating here. If you're underaged, bail now. Although it's not mentioned in the story, assume that measures were taken in the area of safe sex. Thanks again to Charli and Rhoni for helping me overcome my shyness. ::grin:: I live for feedback, so please send comments to xfvixen@geocities.com. ------------------------------X-x-X------------------------------ AFFIRMATION by viXen Gila County Coroner's Office Globe, Arizona 1:45am The room was so cold. He hadn't realized how cold these rooms were kept, paying no heed to the living bodies that had to suffer through the chilly temperature. Why did they keep these rooms so cold? Were the dead visitors complaining of the heat? Bile rose in Fox Mulder's throat as the stench of formaldehyde, along with countless other smells he associated with death, accosted his nostrils. He'd been in so many autopsy bays he'd lost count, but he never got used to the lingering smell of death. "Agent Mulder?" Mulder turned to the voice behind him, finding a blonde-haired, blue-eyed man in a white lab coat. The agents had met with Dr. Mark Redmond, the Gila County coroner, earlier in the day about a case involving mutilation victims. An amiable man, Redmond not only reviewed each autopsy in detail with Scully, but offered his home number in case they needed his further consult. The man before Mulder reminded him of a taller, sandy-haired version of Pendrell, his hair short and wavy, his eyes big and his face friendly but a little on the nerdy side. "Agent Mulder, my assistant called me at home. I...was hoping this was just a case of mistaken identity." Redmond paused, motioning to a nearby autopsy table. A stark white sheet lay draped over the table, the crisp material peaked in the middle. "The body is right over here," the coroner continued. Mulder flinched. The body. It was as simple as that. 'Hello, Agent Mulder, here's _the body_.' His stomach lurched toward his throat. The body. The body. Thebodythebodythebody... Mulder tried to shake the mantra from his head as he slowly approached the steel table. The Body. The Body of Dana Scully. He had received the call from a police detective less than thirty minutes before. She had been found in the parking lot of a hospital, shot in the head. The detective found her ID badge and cell phone, and had the common sense to push #1 on her speed dial. Mulder had been on the other side of town following another lead. She was on her way to talk to an ER doctor working the graveyard shift the night the latest of the mutilation victims had come in, barely alive. Scully wasn't supposed to be in any danger. A simple question-and-answer session with one of the good guys. What the hell happened? He stared at the white sheet as Redmond walked to the opposite side of the table. Mulder tried to raise his hand to the sheet but was unable to feel his arm. He couldn't feel anything. Empty. So empty. This couldn't be happening. Redmond took pity on the agent and gently raised the sheet. Mulder's eyes closed the minute the coroner's hands made contact with the material. He counted to five, then slowly opened his eyes. He studied the face carefully, taking in every inch of skin, every pore, the seared, bloody hole in the forehead... "Fuck," he whispered on a breath. "Agent Mulder," Redmond said, lowering the sheet, "I'm so sorry you had to do this but you do understand that we needed someone to ID the..." "It's not her." Mulder's voice was flat. Redmond's eyebrows arched. "You're absolutely sure? Detective Holloman found her badge and..." "It's. Not. Her," Mulder said through clenched teeth. "I don't know who this is, but I do know it's NOT Dana Scully. Hair's too long and the wrong color of red. Lips are too thin. And Scully has a small mole just below her nose. This woman does not." The coroner opened his mouth to speak, then closed it quickly upon seeing the agent's expression. Before Redmond had a chance to ask just how well the partners knew each other, Mulder turned on his heel and stormed to the double doors, slamming his open palms against the metal. The doors flew open so fast they slapped against the outside walls and groaned on their straining hinges. Instead of finding the exit, Mulder walked farther into the building, farther away from the autopsy room where an unidentified petite redhead lay on a slab of metal. He found a hallway off the main part of the building and followed it to the end, ducking into the first room he found unlocked. Finding the lightswitch behind the door, he flipped it on. Only one of the overhead fluorescent lights came on, leaving the far end of the room bathed in half-light and shadows. He could make out the outline of several portable autopsy tables shoved against the metal body drawers lining the far wall. A spare autopsy bay now used as a storage room, he surmised. He noted with some relief that the room wasn't kept at temperatures usually found in walk-in freezers. Mulder listened to the clicking of his heels echo off the metal tables as he moved toward the shadows. He felt more comfortable in shadows. He'd spent most of his life there. He realized that he and Scully had been lurking in the shadows so much lately, not only professionally but personally. That was where they had to keep their new relationship. He hated having to keep it there but they had no choice. They were forced to sneak around like a modern-day Romeo and Juliet, the feuding families replaced by an imperfect and easily corrupted system, secretly controlled by a consortium of powerful men who wanted nothing more than to bury the X-Files, along with the truth, for good. "Mulder?" Placing his hands on one of the tables, he leaned into it. He could hear her voice in his head so clearly. She was so much a part of him it was as if she were another appendage on his body, one he didn't want to live without. He needed her like he had needed no one else in his life. The thought both terrified and excited him. He frowned. Someone had taken her. There was no way Scully would have willingly given up her trenchcoat, cell phone and badge, the three items of hers found on the body he had viewed. Why such an elaborate hoax? Did the killer know they were here and decided to throw them off the track? Were they that close to catching the person who had mutilated those five women? And if it _was_ the killer who set this up, did he have Scully? "Mulder. I'm here." He turned around as he suddenly realized the voice wasn't in his head. He tried to speak but his voice failed to materialize. All he could do was stare at her. Her beige suit jacket was torn and soiled in several places. She was walking with a slight limp and he noticed dried blood on the edges of a sizable rip in her beige pants just below the knee. Her face had two small smudges of mud or blood, he wasn't sure which, and her hair looked as if she had been caught in a windstorm. Scully slowly approached him and he watched her in awe and confusion. She stopped just inches from him, within arms' reach, but he made no move to touch her. "Mulder, it's OK. I'm here," she whispered as she raised a hand to cup his cheek. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. She was real. He wasn't imagining her. "Wha...what happened?" he forced out. His control was slipping fast. "I drove to the hospital to meet with Dr. Evans. I only made it a few steps from the car when someone knocked me over the head." She paused, unable to stop the subtle shudder from working its way up her spine. "I was in the trunk of a car and I must have regained consciousness faster than expected. When the car stopped and the trunk opened, I surprised the guy." Mulder opened his eyes for the first time since she had reached out to him. "Just one guy?" She smirked. "Yeah, this was not a professional job. I knocked the guy out with a tire iron, shoved him in the trunk and drove back to the hospital. I managed to find Holloman there and that's when he told me you were here to..." Her voice trailed off as she took a long, deep look in his eyes. The torture there would have been evident to her even if tears hadn't started their descent down his face. "Scully, they told me you were dead." He stopped as his voice hitched. "They made me...oh God, Dana, I thought that body was you." Finally he reached out for her, wrapping his long arms around her and crushing her to him. Their bodies couldn't have been any closer but it wasn't close enough. He buried his face in her hair and sobbed as she ran her hands along the length of his back. "Shhh, it's OK. I'm alive," she whispered in a soothing voice. "I thought I had lost you," he murmured in her ear. "I thought I'd never be able to hold you again. When you came in here, I thought I was imagining you." Scully pulled back from him and removed one of his hands from her back. "I'm real, Mulder," she said, holding his gaze as she placed his hand below her left breast. "See, you can feel my heartbeat. I'm alive." He stared into her eyes for a moment then lowered his gaze to where his hand lay on the thin black material of her shirt. He could feel her heartbeat, a steady rhythm pumping lightly under his hand. He watched as his hand, seemingly involuntarily, moved up to cup her breast. He looked back up to her eyes just in time to see them close. His thumb brushed against her nipple. On a gasp, her eyes fluttered open. He let out a low hiss of air when he saw the darkened irises and dilated pupils. Both of his hands went to her face and he pulled her to him. His lips pried hers open, his tongue thrusting in and out, touching and tasting every part of her mouth. His hands moved down her neck and briefly caressed the soft skin there before settling on her shoulders. His fingers hooked under her suit jacket lapels and he pushed the jacket from her body. Scully moved closer to him but he pulled back, leaving enough room for his hands to slide down the front of her body to her waist. He grasped the cotton shirt and tugged up, trying to untuck it from her pants. She reached for his hands as she broke the kiss. "No, Mulder," she exhaled. "Not here." "Yes," he hissed, his breath sending strands of her hair fluttering around her face. "Here. Now. I need to feel you, Scully. Skin against skin." Scully opened her mouth to protest but promptly closed it. She had never seen that look in his eyes. Desire was there, she could tell, but there was something else, something more primal, more basal in his eyes. His need was there for her to see, and that need was overwhelming. As she stared into those circles of darkened brownish-green, she realized her need was well on its way to matching his. The last time she had been in a trunk of a car, she had lost three months of her life. Three months gone as easily as one tears pages from a calendar. Three months she could never get back. Images of Duane Barry flashing behind her eyes. She wanted Mulder to rip those memories from her brain. She wanted him to fill her body as well as her mind with new memories and new hope. Her mind screamed at her; they couldn't do this. Not here, not now. It was too dangerous. She felt one of his hands tangling in her hair, the other pulling her close. His breath was hot and ragged against her forehead, and as he pressed his body against hers, she could feel how much he wanted her. The screams were getting weaker. "Someone might see us," she said unconvincingly. "I don't care," he whispered as his mouth descended on hers. All remaining resistance left her in a low, guttural moan that came from somewhere within her body. She relaxed in his arms, linking one hand behind his head to pull him closer to her. His hands tugged at her shirt again and she made no attempt to stop him, even helping him by raising her arms so he could free her from the suddenly confining material. Mulder reluctantly pulled his hands from her body to shrug his trenchcoat and suit jacket, letting them fall and form a pool of navy blue at his feet. He unlatched and removed his holster, and was forced to break their kiss to bend down and carefully place his gun in the pillow of clothing. The tiny mewling sound from her throat when his lips left hers nearly made him lose his balance and he caught himself with one hand to the floor. As soon has he righted his body and stood up, Scully's hands found his tie. Deft fingers loosened the knot and yanked the strip of silk from his collar. Her normally steady hands shook with her desire as she fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. She managed to undo four of them before Mulder grabbed the collar and whisked the shirt over his head, tossing it aside. Scully's hands and mouth were drawn to him simultaneously. She kissed and nipped at his skin while running her hands up and down, relishing in the friction created by the contact of her hands and the short, wiry hairs of his chest. She trailed her hands down his body, taking time to trace his firm abdominal muscles before descending to the waistband of his pants. With the hands of a magician, she undid his belt, unlooped the button and lowered the zipper in a matter of seconds. Her hands greedily sought out the heat of him, stroking and cupping him through his boxers. "Oh God. Scuullee," he groaned as her fingers slid under the silk and wrapped themselves around his erection. He lost himself completely in her touch, his mind aware of nothing but her mouth and tongue and fingers. She had no idea the power she held over him. This woman, whose full height barely reached the bottom of his chin, could reduce him to a quivering mass of hormones with the stamina of a sixteen-year-old by just touching him. It took every ounce of his remaining willpower to keep from exploding in her hands. Somehow his brain managed to get a message to his arms, as he was vaguely aware of his hands traveling down her back and unhooking her bra. His hands moved back up to her shoulders and peeled the straps away and down her skin. He then grabbed her wrists and raised them to his neck. Her deep blue eyes met his gaze and she nodded as she looped her hands around his neck. Their moans made an erotic duo as their upper bodies touched, bare skin on bare skin. Mouths sought out each other and collided with a ferocity neither was able to control. Tongues thrust in and out, mimicking what both knew their lower bodies would be doing at any minute. Knowing he wouldn't last much longer, Mulder hurriedly removed her pants, taking her panties with them in one long shove, then slid his hands up to her waist. She gasped as he lifted her, sitting her on one of the autopsy tables behind her. The metal creaked but the table held its ground. Thank God the wheel locks are engaged, Mulder thought with the few brain cells still functioning. With her sitting on the table, their eyes were at equal level, communicating everything words could never say. Scully felt his hands on her thighs, gently nudging them apart. She complied and pulled him to stand between her legs as she pushed the boxers down. Mulder shoved them the rest of the way down his legs and kicked them off, never once breaking eye contact. He moved one hand slowly up her thigh until he reached his goal and was rewarded with a throaty gasp. That sound, coupled with her arousal soaking his fingers, made it impossible for him to stop a growl from escaping his own lips. "Mulder, now. I need you now," she moaned, her voice threaded with the husky tones of desire. Normally she was an ardent fan of the 'slow and easy' approach, but this was different. He wanted to feel that she was alive, and more than anything, she wanted him to make her feel alive. She wanted it hard and fast, and her eyes did their best to convey that message. Scully scooted up the table, leaving room for Mulder to climb up with her. Their movements toppled a pile of white sheets sitting on the edge, sending most of the sheets to the floor. She laid back and reached for him. Their lips met as he settled himself between her legs, then pushed into her in one quick movement. The word 'slow' was no longer registering in Mulder's brain. He thrust into her at a maddening pace, burying himself to the hilt before pulling back and doing it again. His ears barely registered the clanking of the table hitting the autopsy drawers behind it. A few more thrusts and he felt Scully lift off the table. He angled his mouth over hers and swallowed her cries as she reached that precipice and beyond. Her muscles gripping and squeezing him sent him over that same cliff just seconds behind her. As he began to come back to himself, Mulder resisted the urge to collapse onto Scully and managed to roll himself next to her. He gathered her in his arms and she snuggled against him, laying her head on his chest. "Mulder, we can't fall asleep here," she slurred. "Mmmm," he answered as he reached for two white sheets still valiantly hanging on, their edges trapped under Scully's body. He heard her mumble something, then felt her shift against him before sleep blanketed him in darkness. ------------------------------X-x-X------------------------------ A cool hand nudging his shoulder brought Mulder back to consciousness. He smiled when his eyes opened and focused on a cloud of fiery red hair and flushed ivory skin. She was on the table next to where he was, her body partially draped in a sheet. "Hi," he said, knowing the grin on his face was as goofy as he imagined. "How long have we been out?" Despite the glare she shot at him, Scully couldn't stop the corners of her mouth from curling up a few millimeters. She propped herself up on one elbow. "Not long, maybe half an hour or so," she said quietly, pulling the sheet farther up her chest. "Mulder, do you realize what we just did?" "Had some killer sex?" he replied casually. His grin widened when he saw her pursed lips and narrowing eyes. He really loved this game. "Mulder, we just 'did it' in a morgue," she said in a hushed voice. He chuckled. "Sure beats joining the 'Mile High Club' any day." Scully took a swing at him, her open palm landing squarely on his shoulder. He grabbed her wrist and brought it to his lips. His tongue flicked out and laved her palm. "Mulder," she whispered. "Mulder, don't. This was not smart. It was dangerous." He released her hand and shifted the sheet over his body. "Are you sorry we did it?" "In a morgue?" she asked, her voice raising an octave. "You must be joking." Mulder shook his head. "Scully, what's the big deal about it being a morgue? There are no bodies here other than ours. They use this room for equipment storage." "The fact remains," Scully asserted, "that this is a coroner's office. If this place was meant for us to have sex in it, they would have at least nailed the tables to the floor." He smiled briefly, then looked up at her, pinning her with his eyes. Lifting his arm, he started tracing the length of her arm with his forefinger. "I needed you, Scully. You don't know what went through my head when I got that phone call, and then when I saw it wasn't you... I don't know why but I just needed to feel you, to be inside you, to know you were really here." Scully's hand covered his. "I know," she whispered, her eyes filling with tears. Mulder raised up from the table and put his hand behind Scully's neck, lowering her head to meet his halfway. The kiss was quick but lacked none of the intensity and passion of its predecessors. Reluctantly, he pulled away and lay back on the cool table. "Besides, what better way to affirm life than to make love in a place associated with death." Scully smiled, then added a husky laugh. "Mulder, only you could present a bizarre yet vaguely viable justification for having sex on an autopsy table." Her smile slowly faded. "We took a big chance doing this." He nodded. "I know, but us being together is in and of itself dangerous. You know that." His hand moved to her chin, forcing her to raise her eyes to his. "Do you regret us making that move?" Scully reached out to caress his stubbled jawline. "There are some things in my life I regret doing, Mulder. But this is _not_ one of them. I...need you. We need each other." She lowered her gaze and smiled. "I just hope the next time we 'need' each other, the place has a softer, warmer surface." Mulder laughed, then gave her palm a quick kiss. "Come on. Let's get dressed before we're mistaken for permanent residents." Stretching her legs, Scully took a minute to make a visual sweep of Mulder's lean, half-draped body. The white sheet was covering from his chest all the way down one leg and stopped just above his calf. She loved his legs, so long, muscular but not grotesquely so, and... "Oh God," she breathed. Mulder quickly turned to her. Her eyes were wide, like those of a deer caught in an oncoming truck's headlights. "What?" "Mulder, I think someone already knows about us," she stammered, her gaze never leaving his lower body. Following the line of her gaze, he soon realized what had her in a panic. "What the..." Tied loosely around his big toe was a toe tag. He scrambled to a sitting position and grabbed for the tag. MULDER, FOX was written in block letters. On a whim, he turned the tag over. More writing appeared in a barely decipherable cursive: Sorry, couldn't resist. Holloman's looking for you. Told him you went back to hotel. Don't worry, I'm the only one who knows. Glad you found her, Agent Mulder, and thanks for making my night. M. Redmond Scully sidled up next to Mulder and read the note. "What kind of sick joke... Damnit, Mulder, he knows! He could report us to Skinner!" Mulder dropped the toe tag and placed his hand on her shoulder. "Scully, calm down. You met Redmond. He's just a small-time doctor in a small-time desert town. He has no reason to report us." His hand went to her chin and remained there until she raised her eyes to him. "I'll talk to him." Scully huffed and jumped off the table, grabbing her clothes and roughly pulling them on. "I hope you know I can never face that man again." Mulder smiled to himself as he pulled on his boxers. "Sure you can, Scully." He approached her and stilled her shaking hands as they struggled with the zipper on her pants. "You'll be just fine. You know why?" Scully looked up at him, sarcasm evident in her expression and voice. "No, why?" "Because you have more balls than a locker room full of football players." He wrapped his arms around her and planted a light kiss on her forehead. "Because you're Dana Scully." Scully smiled and relaxed into his embrace. "Good answer, Agent Mulder." ------------------------------X-x-X------------------------------ Dr. Mark Redmond's office 2:32am "Yes, I'm sure. I saw them myself. In flagrante delecto." Redmond ran a hand through his short hair, smirking as he recalled the two agents asleep in each other's arms, the smell of sweat and sex overpowering the disinfectant scent in the room. He'd seen many things happen in an autopsy bay, but this was a first. "You've done well, Dr. Redmond," the voice proclaimed. "Expect your papers to go through immediately. I'm sure Quantico will have no problem accepting your application. We may call upon you from time to time to help us with a...project, but nothing that should interfere with your job." The coroner nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, whatever, that's fine. How long do you think before we can move to Washington?" The voice exhaled slowly. "Slow down, Dr. Redmond. These things take as long as they take. Don't worry, you'll get exactly what you deserve in due time." Redmond swallowed hard, then opened his mouth. He started speaking, getting a few words out, when he realized he was talking to a dial tone. He rubbed a hand over his face. This was a good thing. He and Elise could get the kids out of this shithole town and he could start making some decent money. Besides, those FBI agents would get a slap on the wrist at most, right? He yanked at the collar of his shirt. Redmond knew he had done the right thing for himself and his family, but he just couldn't shake the feeling he had just made a deal with the Devil. END PART 1/1 ------------------------------X-x-X------------------------------ Comments, questions, suggestions? Send them all to xfvixen@geocities.com. Thanks for reading!