TITLE: Death's Butterfly Wings. (Despite what the title might suggest, there will be no character deaths. Trust me.) AUTHOR: Jill Starbuck E-MAIL: jillstarbuck@yahoo.com CLASS: MSR, angst. RATING: NC-17. Cancer arc. SPOILERS: Memento Mori. ARCHIVE: Anywhere, just ask, and keep it all together. SUMMARY: Mulder and Scully confront their fears and their feelings in the wake of Scully's diagnosis. DISCLAIMER: Moose, Squirrel, and all that jazz belong to 1013 Productions, Fox Broadcasting, and the actors who portray them. No money was made (d'oh!) and no infringement was intended. This fan fic is for enjoyment only, and is forbidden to be used for commercial gain. This is in honour of Karen Rasch's "Wonderland" series, which was the first set of her stories that I read, and loved. Curious? Here's the address: http://home.earthlink.net/~krasch/ XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Death's Butterfly Wings. By Jill Starbuck See top for disclaimers, etc. 1/6 "So, who is picking you up?" "Oh, just a friend, a man I work with, actually. He uh, he wanted to save my mother another trip in. He wouldn't admit it though, but he didn't want her driving, considering the lack of sleep she's had over the past week." "You're very lucky to have a friend like him." Dana Scully smiled wistfully as the nurse handed her a hairbrush. She began to stroke her copper coloured hair back into place. After a week spent in a hospital bed, her hair had taken a fair bit. Laying on the pillow had caused an angry knot of curls in the back. Scully winced as the brush touched the snarl, and began to stroke it more gently. She would have looked after her hair a lot better, but the chemotherapy had caused her to be violently ill. She still felt the after-effects of it, which was why her AD Skinner had advised she take another three days just to be sure that she felt her best. She smirked at the thought. How is someone supposed to feel their best when they are dying of cancer? She was glad that she was going home, which was a damn sight better than the hospital. And Mulder had offered to spend that night with her. He hadn't pushed, just offered lightly that if she would like someone there, then he would be more than happy to be that somebody. She felt like an invalid at first. She had been absent from work a couple of times with the 'flu, and Mulder hadn't spent the night. He would normally ring and enquire if everything was alright, and if she needed anything specific picked up on his way home. No big deal. And it beat driving with a headache and a temperature, runny nose and achy joints. But she didn't want to feel bad. And, to be perfectly honest, she didn't feel well enough to deal with Mulder's soulful puppy-dog look if she had said no. "Dana? Earth to Dana?" The nurse's voice floated into Scully's reverie. She closed her eyes briefly and looked at her. "I'm sorry, Rebecca. I spaced out for a moment there." Scully handed her the hairbrush, and Rebecca stowed it in the small overnight bag along with the rest of Scully's items. "Okay, that's everything. When is your friend picking you up?" "Uh, he should be here any moment...." "Now," a familiar voice finished. Fox Mulder rounded the corner of Scully's room, and rested his tall lanky frame in the doorway. He smiled easily and effortlessly at Scully, but his hazel eyes still carried the weight of her illness. He worried the keys to his car in his fingers. "Hey there," he said. He looked at the floor, and then back at Scully. "Am I, uh, am I too early?" "No, Mulder, that's fine," Scully replied. She winced for the second time that morning at the strained conversation between her and Mulder. It had been a little awkward between them, ever since the kiss in the hallway. The brief second when Mulder's lips touched to her forehead was burned forever on Scully's soul. When he held her head gently in his cool rough hands, stroking it lightly with his thumbs, it became something that would live with her until her dying day. But with that small slice of heaven, there came a slice of hell too. She wasn't going to live long enough to enjoy it. Mulder must have sensed something in Scully's thoughts, as his eyes became concerned. "Are you okay?" he asked. "She's been spacing out all morning," Rebecca supplied, handing Scully's bag to him. "Must really be looking forward to going home." "Yeah, Rebecca, I am," Scully replied. She slid off the bed. "Are we right to go, Mulder?" "Yeah, if you are," he responded. He lifted his hand. "See you later, Rebecca. Thanks for your help." "You look after her now," Rebecca replied. She winked at Dana, and mouthed "Lucky", when she was sure Mulder wasn't looking. Scully felt a blush creeping into her cheeks, and she damned her Irish complexion that gave away practically her every thought. Mulder, meanwhile, seemed oblivious to her predicament. He stopped by the front desk, to make sure there wasn't anything left for him to sign, held open the glass door for Scully, and followed her out. Outside, it was overcast, the steel grey clouds hanging low in the sky. The air itself crackled with static electricity. Scully shivered and wrapped her light pink cardigan around her tighter. She tilted her head up, feeling the moisture laden air on her face. It smelled like rain. "They've been predicting thunderstorms all morning," Mulder said as if reading her thoughts. He opened the trunk of the car, and tossed the overnight bag in. "Oh, there wasn't anything you wanted from that, was there?" he asked, his hand still on the bag. Scully shook her head. "No, that's fine." Mulder nodded and slammed the trunk shut. The noise was thunderous, and Scully jumped. Mulder smiled apologetically. "The trunk hasn't been catching lately," he said. "I nearly left home with it hanging open this morning." He walked around the the front passenger side, and unlocked Scully's door. Scully hesitated before climbing into the car. She had been afraid of this. The tight conversation between them. If she didn't broach the subject with him, tonight was going to be murder on the two of them. She needed to tell him it was okay to talk to her about it. That it was okay to talk about the cancer, and how it was affecting him mentally. Scully slid into the seat and pulled the seatbelt around her. Next to her, Mulder fiddled with the radio until he found a station he liked. He looked over at her, smiling with his lips, but his eyes were still sad. He's trying, Scully thought, he's trying to be strong about it. But it hurts him so much. He thinks that he's responsible for it, for her sickness, for everything. And everything she said, her words, they didn't help. He still carried the pain like a torturous weight around his neck. "Is there anything you want to pick up before we go home?" Mulder asked, putting the keys in the ignition. The car began to hum softly, and he pulled smoothly out of his parking space and onto the blacktop road. "Well, I don't think I have anything for dinner. You weren't envisioning a home cooked meal, were you? My cupboard is bare." Mulder chuckled softly. "We could stop and pick up some things for dinner. I could cook something if you don't feel like it..." "I'm not an invalid, Mulder," Scully responded, her words coming out sharper than she thought. Mulder's smile faded, and her turned his gaze to her quickly before focusing back on the road. Scully sighed. "Mulder, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to come out like that. What I'm saying is..." "Don't apologise, Scully," Mulder replied, avoiding her eyes. "You're right. If I'm overcrowding you, I can just drop you home and drive back to my house. It's okay." "Mulder, why did you ask to stay tonight?" Scully asked. It had been a question that had been plaguing her ever since he made the request. And she felt like she had to know. What had motivated him to ask? Mulder hesitated for several seconds before he answered. "Uh, I just thought you might like some company. And, we haven't really talked about this, on a personal level. I know you're going back to work, and all that, but I want to know how you feel about this personally." He paused. "And I want you to know how I feel, as well." Scully nodded, and reached out to lightly brush her fingertips on the back of Mulder's hand. He reached over, and placed his cool hand over hers, taking his eyes off the road to look at her, favouring her with one of his soft gentle smiles. "Now, do you want to get something for dinner, or should we hole up with a pizza and a six-pack of beer?" "Pizza and beer sound pretty good. But we'll have to stop at the liquor store though." Mulder nodded and Scully settled down in her seat. Things were looking up already. * * * * In one hand, Scully held a six-pack of Sam Adams. She'd left Mulder somewhere towards the back of the store, browsing the more stronger varieties of alcohol on sale. She had smirked at him and casually informed him that he wasn't much of a drinker, and if he planned on taking her on, she would drink him under the table. "And once we're there, then what will we do?" he had replied just as casually. The stubborn lock of brown hair had fallen over his eye, and he smiled his easy, infectious smile. she asked herself, shaking her head at her notions. She lifted the six-pack and examined it again. She hadn't drank beer in ages. In fact, she hadn't drunk much alcohol in a while, period. She reached the end of the aisle she was perusing, and almost ran into Mulder. "Right to go?" he asked, lifting her arm to inspect the kind of beer she had chosen. He gestured to the back of the store. "I couldn't find anything that I wanted." "It's just dinner, Mulder. I doubt very much we'll actually finish the six-pack tonight." "Oooh," he breathed softly, leering at her comically. "An incentive to stay another night." Scully swatted his arm lightly and joined the checkout line, Mulder trailing after her. "I was kidding," he said. "You'll probably be sick of me tomorrow." He smiled and looked at the floor. "But listen, Scully, I'm really glad that you are letting me stay tonight. I don't mean to be overprotective, and I certainly don't want to crowd you, but it makes me feel good that I can hover over you occasionally, even if it's just for one night." "That's okay," Scully replied. "Actually, I'm kinda glad that you did ask. It will be nice to spend an evening with someone." "Hmm, an evening with Spooky Mulder. And you're looking *forward* to it?" He fell silent as Scully handed over the money for the beer, and followed her out of the store. She turned to face him and handed him the bag with the beer in it. "I can tell that this is going to be a long night," Scully said, smiling slightly at him. She stood that way for several seconds, looking over Mulder's shoulder, before settling her eyes back on him. "Come on, let's go, before it starts to rain." XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Death's Butterfly Wings By Jill Starbuck See top for disclaimers, etc. 2/6 Scully fished her house keys out of her pocket and slipped them into the door. She and Mulder had made it back just in time before the heavens opened and poured a deluge over them. They had escaped the worst of, receiving a splattering of drops over them as they ran from the car to the building. Scully succesfully unlocked the door and pushed it open, flipping on the light and hanging her coat on the coat tree beside the door. The dark ominous clouds that covered the sky's above Washington had turned the afternoon into an early twilight. "Mulder, just put the beer in the fridge," she said, quickly adjusting the cushions on the couch, and the magazines on the small table. She should have made sure that the house was straight before Mulder had asked to come over. Mulder stood just outside Scully's kitchen, watching her straighten the items in her living room. He studied her that way for several seconds, enjoying the chance to look at her without her telling him to quit staring and concentrate on the job. Granted, she was paler, paler than he had ever seen before. Her blue eyes shone a little less, and the creamy skin under them was bruised with purple - dark circles from the hellish chemotherapy. She had lost weight - a surprising amount, and her cheeks were hollow. But she was still beautiful. Standing there watching her, Mulder was overcome by a feeling of tenderness, and a need to protect. For what seemed like the thousandth time, he asked, why her? Why did she deserve to be cursed with this illness? Why couldn't she have been spared? And for the thousandth time, he wished for her to get well. His eyes rapidly filled with tears, and he swiped at them clumsily with a hand. It wouldn't do for Scully to see him upset. She needed him now - whether she admitted it or not - and the last thing he needed to do was turn this into something about himself. He needed her. And if she left, a part of him would die too. No, wait. The whole fucking thing would. His heart, his soul, would shrivel and die, if she took her last breath before him. And the guilt he carried about her illness would intensify a thousandfold, if she died because of it. And he would have no reason to live. "Mulder? Mulder." Scully's voice pulled him back to reality. She stood in front of him, her eyes concerened. "You were staring." "Oh, uh, I'm sorry. I spaced out." He forced a smile. "Seems you aren't the only one who's doing it." He left the kitchen, and stood closer to Scully. An awkward silence filled the room for a few seconds, before Scully took charge of the situation. She picked up his overnight bag and handed it to him. "I'm willing to give up my bed and sleep on the couch if you'd like...." she started, but Mulder interrupted. "No, I live on the couch. You keep your bed. But I will go for a shower, if that's okay...." "Oh, yeah, knock yourself out. You can get changed in my room. There are fresh towels in the cupboard next to the bathroom. Help yourself. I'll order dinner in another hour or so." Mulder nodded and went down the hall, and Scully sat on the couch. Her mind began to wander. When Mulder had first asked if he could spend the night, she had hesitated, not in refusal, but in shock. The open, sad look in his eyes, a look that she had seen only a few times before - when he was talking about the abduction of his sister - it had frightened her to see him so vulnerable-looking. His moody hazel eyes seemed to be fighting a minature hurricane, the pupils large and melancholy, as he made his simple request. She heard the shower being turned on, and her thoughts of Mulder's sadness were rapidly replaced with another image. Mulder's long fingers running through his wet hair, as he stood naked in the shower, the water rolling and bouncing off the lean planes of his body in fat droplets. She tried to squelch it, but it resisted. More images came to mind. Mulder using his tapered fingers on her, running over her most intimate places, until she cried his name hoarsely in ecstacy. His face, grimaced, sweat dotting his upper lip, the muscles corded in his neck and shoulders as he made love to her.... "Scully?" a shout came. She shook herself out of her thoughts and walked tentatively down the hallway. Mulder's head was outside the doorway, his hair glistening, silver droplets travelling slowly down the curve of his cheek. "Uh, the towel I got was too small, and I didn't want to drip all over your carpet. Can I...." "Oh, sure Mulder," Scully said, forcing herself to concentrate on getting the towel, not how attractive the water was making him. She opened the cupboard, taking a deep breath to calm herself. Her hand closed around a larger towel, and she passed it to him. His wet hand touched her briefly, and a drop of water clung to the smooth skin. "Sorry," he said, smiling slightly, his eyes smokey. "I'll be out in a second." Scully was silent for a second, before she realised where she was. "Oh, that's okay. Take all the time you need." "Thanks for the towel," he said softly, and shut the door. Scully stood outside the door trying to calm down. Her heart fluttered like a trapped bird against her ribs, and she took a shaky breath. What the hell had just happened? She walked back into the living room on rubbery legs. She sat down, trying to contain the collection of butterflies wreaking havoc in her stomach. She lifted her hand, and noticed that the drop of water from when Mulder took the towel from her was still clinging to her skin. Impulsively, she placed her tongue on the drop, drawing it from it's position into the confines of her mouth. It tasted sweet. It tasted how she imagined Mulder would taste. And now that she had tasted it, she wanted more. * * * * Mulder toweled his hair vigorously, smirking with amusement at the dark brown spikes sticking every which way. He picked up the comb he had brought with him and ran it through his hair, humming a non-existant tune to himself. He took the time, lost in the rythmic strokes of the comb, to think about what had happened a few minutes ago. He wished he knew what it was that had caused her eyes to become large, glistening with something that he had never seen in her eyes before. She referred to him once as "a flower that just kept on opening". It seemed ironic that the same applied to her. He was constantly amazed by this woman. Her strength, her integrity, her loyalty, and her....patience. He knew he would be lost without her. And he didn't think he was ready to show up at the office one day, and get the call saying she wasn't going to be there. Slamming the comb down on the sink, he told himself that he wasn't making the situation any easier. In fact, he was just making it difficult for himself. And if he let this thing beat him as well as Scully, he wouldn't be able to support her the way that she deserves. He threw the last of his items back into his bag and snapped off the light in the bathroom. He took his overnight bag out to the living room where Scully was sitting on the couch quietly to herself. Mulder put the bag down quietly so as not to disturb her. She didn't move when he sat on the couch next to her. It wasn't until he placed his hand on her shoulder, that she turned and faced him. Her face was streaked with tears. "Oh, Scully, I...." Scully wiped hastily at the tears, and heaved a sigh. "I'm sorry Mulder." Her voice broke. "I'm so sorry." "God, Scully, what for?" he said, using the sleeve of his shirt to dry her face. "This. Everything. I tell you that I don't need any help, and maintain that I'm fine. But it's not true. And I'm afraid to ask you for it because you might start to think less of me, and that I need help all the time." She sniffed, and withdrew a Kleenex from her sleeve. "Mulder, I'm so scared. I'm not ready to die yet." "Oh, Scully...." Mulder leaned forward and gathered her in his arms. Rocking her gently in his arms, he shifted slightly until she was comfortable. "Please, don't ever be afraid to tell me that you need help. And I will *not* think less of you. But you need to tell me these things, otherwise how am I supposed to know?" He stroked her hair gently, and pressed his lips into her hair. "I know you aren't ready to die yet. Believe me, you aren't the only one. And we still have time. I have been researching, and it isn't too late. We may still find some way...." "And what if we don't, Mulder," Scully stated softly, her breath hitching as she supressed a sob. "What if in a year's time, our efforts are fruitless...." "Please, Scully, don't think like that. You've always had your faith in God, and I have my faith that we will find the truth." "But Mulder, I think I have lost my faith." Mulder's eyes widened slightly at her quiet confession. Confession being the operative word. She had always had her faith. When Mulder voiced his opinions about paranormal phenomena, of aliens running around, Scully held onto her faith in two things: science and the Almightly. And now, she was losing faith in on of them. Mulder felt a tear roll down his own cheek as he held Scully. Of all things that she could possibly lose, why did she have to lose her faith? "Scully, you've always held onto your faith. It's been one of the things that saw you through. Remember Kevin? I didn't believe you when you thought it had something to do with divine intervention. But you followed your faith and you saved him. Who's to say that your faith won't guide you through this as well?" "Mulder, I have prayed so hard in the last week. I've prayed that He help me, that He guide me through this, and....I don't feel calmed by Him anymore. I once thought that if I had God when I needed Him, that I wouldn't need anyone else. But He doesn't fill me anymore. Not like He used to. And I don't think it's what I really want anymore." She said this small speech in a calm, neutral voice, as if she were delivering a pathology lecture to a group of students. Her eyes were focused on a point outside her window, and her hands stayed folded in her lap, not betraying any movement whatsoever. Mulder drank in this behaviour like the trained psychologist that he was. His heart sank, when he realised that she was deadly serious, and that this wasn't just a passing thing. Another tear rolled down his cheek. "What can you have faith in, if you have no faith in God?" he asked softly. "What do you have to channel your faith into?" "I have faith in you, don't I?" she said quietly, looking up at him with liquid eyes. "I trust you. And I think, that's all I need. To have faith that you will always be here, even though I don't always ask for it." Mulder's heart contracted a little further in his chest. Scully turned her head and looked up at him with huge eyes. "Why do I need anything else?" Mulder's tongue felt numb, as he contemplated the best way to answer her. As he stared into the fathomless pools of blue, he realised something that he had been trying to fight within himself, because he didn't want to cause himself the pain. He loved her. Not just in the platonic way that best friends do, but he was *in* love with her. He wanted to hold her, to have her, until he took his last breath. And until she took hers. The phone rang. Scully started in Mulder's arms at the shrill sound filling the quietness of the apartment, save for the rain pelting the tarmac and footpaths outside. Scully disentangled herself from Mulder's embrace, and snatched up the cordless phone from the side table. She punched a button, and nestled it next to her ear. "Hello?" "Dana, it's your mother here." "Oh, hi Mom." She turned to Mulder, and he mouthed "Say hi," before levering himself off the couch, and wandering into the kitchen to give her a little privacy. "You got home okay?" "Yeah, Mom, no problem." She lowered her voice. "Mulder offered to stay the night, to make sure that I am okay, so...." "Well that's lovely," Maggie Scully said, her voice sounding like she was wearing a huge smile. "He's a lovely boy, Dana." "Oh, Mom," Dana said in an exasperated voice. Mulder's head popped around the kitchen and smiled broadly, knowing exactly what Mrs Scully was saying. Maggie had been trying to marry them off together ever since the year Scully was abducted. It was the first real introduction the two of them had received, despite the awful circumstances. Maggie Scully had took to Mulder, admiring his strength and resiliance, yet exhibiting some feelings also. Scully had told him later that Maggie had said that he reminded her of Dana's father - strength of character, yet a side that felt, too. Mulder opened the fridge, keen to see if the beer was cold enough yet. He tore off the cardboard holder on the bottles, and removed a beer for himself and one for Scully. He poked his head around the kitchen again, and snapped his fingers to get her attention. He waggled the bottle, and she nodded before turning around to continue her conversation. As Mulder pulled the tops off the beers, he thought about the night ahead. These feelings that had suddenly welled up in him were difficult to contain. He wanted nothing more than to take her, right here right now, his jeans halfway down, her shirt rucked up, sweat covering their still-clothed forms. But he knew he had to wait. He had to make sure she felt the same way. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Death's Butterfly Wings By Jill Starbuck See top for disclaimers, etc. 3/6 Scully raised a slice of the warm pizza to her mouth, biting into the melted cheese and spicy vegetables. Luigi's still made the best pizza she had ever tasted. The commercial pizzeries were great with kids, but the family owned business just 10 minutes from her house was definately the place when you couldn't be bothered with a home-cooked meal. Scully momentarily put down her slice and lifted the icy beer bottle. She took a swallow, the flavour of the beer mingling nicely with the pizza. She closed her eyes briefly, and realised she should do this more often. The man across from her smiled at her amused, as she bit down into the pizza again. "Enjoying yourself, Scully?" he asked, and her eyes popped open, and she removed the slice from her mouth, cheese clinging to the corners of her full luscious lips. She chewed rapidly and swallowed. "You know, Mulder, I'm glad your here. It would have just been me here holed up with a pizza. We should do this more often." "Eat pizza and drink beer?" Mulder asked, downing the last of his second bottle, and the remaining bite of his third slice. He leaned back against the couch, adjusting his position on the cushion on the floor. "Your right, it is nice. It's better than the rushed dinner in the motel rooms, discussing the current case. Here, we can eat at our own pace, drink a beer when he feel like it, and talk about something other than work for a change." Scully nibbled on the crust and regarded Mulder with her arresting blue eyes. She blinked once, slowly. "What would you like to talk about, Mulder?" Several seconds of silence passed between them, as Mulder considered her question. There were at least half a dozen things he could think of right now that he would love to get off his chest right now, along with.... He stopped himself before that thought got out of control. Instead, he opted for something that was a little safer. "I want to talk about your illness, Scully. How it affects the both of us. How I feel about it." Scully turned slightly on the cushion so that she was facing him, licking the last of the pizza crumbs off her fingers. Mulder looked into her eyes briefly, and began to talk. "I know that you have already told me that this isn't my fault. And in some ways, it probably isn't my fault. I mean, I didn't abduct you, I didn't put that chip in your neck, and I didn't give you cancer. But, if you had never met me, if you had just blown the whistle on me when you should've, none of this would have happened." "Mulder, how can you say those things? You know as well as I do that if I had, you would've never back down without a fight. You're stubborn, you're resilient, and you would've fought like a demon until they put you back on the X-Files. And anyway, I didn't want to blow the whistle and get you transferred. After I saw through your eyes, I saw the need for the division to remain open. And I was willing to do that. Whatever the cost." "But Scully, after all this, after everything, why don't you walk away? I have caused you more pain in four years that shouldn't be endured in a lifetime. Because of this, because of my cause, my quest, you have lost a sister...." "But Mulder, I have gained so much more. You opened my eyes to something that we need to fight, for the sake of millions. If I back down, if I quit the Bureau, I am giving them what they want most. And I can't. I won't. I belong here. I belong beside you." Mulder sighed, knotting his fingers in his lap. "I'm afraid of this Scully. I'm afraid of this thing like you wouldn't believe. I don't know if I can stand here and feel helpless as you waste away in front of my eyes. That's why I can't accept it the way that you have. You see it as terminal cancer, that it can't be cured, and you have accepted that this is just another path that your life is taking." "But Mulder, that doesn't mean that I want to die. I need to think this way, so that I am prepared for when the time comes. I know you are doing everything you can, but what if you can't? What if in a year, the unthinkable does happen?" Mulder looked up at her, his eyes shining with tears. Scully was taken aback for a moment, she had never seen such a depth of pain and sadness in his eyes, even when he spoke of Samantha. He lifted his hand and swiped at the unshed tears, before breaking down. Scully's heart squeezed in her chest, and she leaned over, her turn to gather Mulder in her arms. He nestled his head on her shoulder, the warm tears leaking from his eyes to fall in the crook of her neck. Scully idily stroked the soft hairs at the base of his neck, curling the fine hairs in her fingertips. She spoke, her voice low and throaty. "You're right, Mulder. It is too early for me to tell. And I have gone ahead and accepted this in the best way I can, without thinking that perhaps you haven't accepted it." She lifted his head slightly, and he smiled softly, before nestling himself back into her arms. "Scully, how am I going to survive without you? You keep me sane, you keep me from falling off the deep end with a damn rock tied around my waist. How am I going to do it without you?" A new wave of fear washed over him, and with the fear came more tears. "I'm so afraid that you don't know how needed you are. And I know I ditch you more times than you care to imagine, let alone count, but I'm afraid that I'm not going to get enough time to tell you how much I feel for you, and how important you really are." "Mulder, you may not tell me in so many words, but I know that I am wanted and needed here. You tell me everyday, in so many ways, that sometimes, words aren't necessary." She felt a tear escape her eye. The two of them were absoulte wrecks, and Mulder was a bigger one than her and she was still *here*. She thought for a moment what was going to happen if the unthinkable did happen, and how Mulder would fair without her. "So, Scully, words aren't important in expressing oneself?" Mulder rumbled softly. He had stopped crying, and lifted himself slightly so that he could see her face. Scully looked down. "Sometimes, Mulder, more things are interpreted clearer when words aren't used," she said, curling another hair around her finger. She peered into the hazel orbs of his eyes, and saw something else. She'd seen the same look when he was forming a theory about a case. Or formulating a plan of action. He sat back up out of her arms, still facing her. His eyes shimmered with an alien look. "Interpret this," he whispered softly. And he leaned over, silencing her with his lips. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Death's Butterlfy Wings By Jill Starbuck See top for disclaimers, etc. Well, I think you know where this is going. Onward, to smut!! 4/6 The rush of heat that flowed through Scully was amazing, unlike anything she had experienced with her other lovers. His kiss was gentle yet demanding at the same time, his lips almost working individually, commiting the taste of her lips to his incredible memory. His tongue probed gently, requesting permission to enter the confines of her mouth. She eagerly accepted, sweeping it inside. She heard him sigh softly, as if everything was complete. And in a sense, it was. His His hand reached to her face, smoothing his calloused fingertip along it's silky softness. Scully moaned hungrily, pressing harder and more demanding on his lips, her tongue filling his mouth with her warm taste. Mulder pulled from her mouth, gasping slightly for air. Scully's eyes were cloudy, unfocused, her mouth relaxed and satisfied. But she wasn't. Far from it. She smiled slowly then, gently. A Madonna smile, almost. Mulder chuckled. Her smile rapidly faded. "What, what is it?" She lifted her hand to her face to brush lightly across her lips. "No, no," he said, smiling broadly. "It's just....you have no idea how long I have wanted to do that. How many times I have thought about kissing you, what it would be like." He smiled softly. "And you know something? It was worth the wait." Scully smiled, and reached for the sweater Mulder was wearing. She curled her fingers tightly around it, and pulled his closer, until only atoms were seperating them. Her lips curved in a seductive smile, and she whispered softly to him. "I can't believe we waited this long," she said. "This feels so right, Mulder. I can't even express it in words. This feeling, I...." she trailed off. "Come to think of it, there is a way I can express it." She lowered her lips to his, closing the tiny distance between them. Mulder closed his eyes, feeling with all his other senses, the electric thrill of the kiss. The warm taste of her mouth, her tongue rubbing across his like an ancient homecoming. A strand of her hair was tickling a sensitive spot her didn't even know existed on the underside of his chin. Scully was moaning softly, little sounds that delighted Mulder's ears. He suddenly felt an urge to get them naked as possible, to touch her sweet, bare skin, to have her close to him, the two of them sliding together, releasing pent-up fears, anger, frustration with their joining. With a growl of impatience, Mulder tugged at the cardigan slung around her shoulders. Scully wriggled out of it, the soft wool discarded to the floor. Mulder's hands moved to the buttons on her shirt, and she pulled back, her lips tearing from his. Mulder opened his eyes to find her smiling sadly at him, wringing her hands in her lap. He took a deep breath. "Please, please don't tell me that you are having second thoughts," he said, his heart pounding visciously within his chest, threatening to break through his suddenly fragile-feeling ribcage. Scully shook her head, and looked at her hands. "Mulder, from the moment you kissed me in the hallway of the Allentown hospital, I haven't been able to get the thought of us coming together like this out of my head. But....I have also realised how things have changed. Within myself. This disease has cost me a lot. In the time that I have known of it's existance, my body has undergone some radical changes. I...." "I know," Mulder said softly, lightly stroking her cheek. "I know that you have lost some weight, you have dark circles underneath your eyes, but Scully, that is not what I am thinking about right now." He paused and ran a fingertip feather-light over the bruised flesh under her eyes. "So, you are wearing a unique shade of purple under your eyes. I don't care. Your eyes are still the same shade of blue. The same *exquisite* shade of blue that drove me wild the minute I witnessed it. You have lost a little weight. But I bet the minute that you take off your shirt....I'm not going to have any complaints. You should try seeing yourself through my eyes, Scully. I don't know how I have managed to keep myself in check for this long." Scully smiled shyly, her hands still wringing slightly in her lap. "You want this?" she asked softly, a warmth creeping into her cheeks. "You want me?" "Oh, Scully," he said tenderly, stroking her cheek again. "I can't express it. I can only show you, and hope you feel the same way." Scully reached up and gripped on the sweater that Mulder was wearing, worrying the soft wool weave in her fingers. She rested her cheek against his shoulder, breathing the scent that lingered between the fibres. It smelt like him, an intoxicating, sweet smell, that also felt a little naughty.... She lifted her head again, and Mulder's dark eyes glittered, and a slight, knowing smile curved the soft corners of his mouth. His bottom lip glistened, and Scully felt the urge inside her to kiss him again. The weird telepathic-like ability that had existed between her and Mulder since she first met him fluttered between them like a skitter of electricity. Mulder's mouth curved wider, and he leaned forward. "Okay," he whispered, closing the distance between them. As he kissed her again, he moved his hands to the buttons on her shirt, waiting for her permission to remove it. She pulled slightly away, her breath puffing against his chin. "Scully, I...." he started, his voice gravelly and rough. He tried again. "Can I...." She lifted her arms slightly, providing better access. "Yes Mulder," she said, her voice equally throaty. "Please." Mulder first moved his hands around to her derriere, lifting and shaping the taut, firm muscle in his hands, before drawing her closer to him, so that she was straddling his lap. Scully looked down on his now upturned face. "Hmmm, I'm taller now," she whispered softly. Mulder smoothed the hair hanging in her eyes away from her face, and cupped it between his palms. She lowered her lips to his, and they kissed. Scully felt his acceptance of her as soon as his lips touched hers. His hands left her face and descended to the buttons of her blouse. He opened the first, and Scully kissed him harder, her tongue stroking his, her hands resting on his broad chest. Mulder carefully undid each button of the blouse, and pushed it gently off her shoulders. She wriggled out of it, and looked into Mulder's hazel eyes, which held hers for a moment, before dropping to look at her exposed chest. Scully had chosen one of her nicer lace bras her mother had kindly dropped off for her on one of her earlier visits. It never really occured to her why she should wear it today, of all days.... Oh, she was lying. Again. She knew very well that she had worn it in the hopes that she and Mulder would enjoy a little slap and tickle. She grinned stupidly, but Mulder didn't notice. He was absorbed in studying the fabric of her bra. He lifted his fingers and brushed over the sheer material. Scully sucked in a breath as a shiver worked it's way lazily down her spine. "Hey Scully," Mulder whispered. "Yeah Mulder?" she responded, tilting his chin slightly so she could see his eyes. He allowed her for a moment, before letting his eyes slip down again. "Did you....wear this for me?" Scully smiled at the soft edge in his voice. She tilted her face to the ceiling, brushing an errant strand of hair out of her eyes. "Oh....maybe I thought it might be a good idea to wear a nice bra....just in case." Mulder chuckled softly, and stroked his fingertips down the curve of her spine. "It's pretty. I like it. It's simple and elegant, the person I always thought of you as. I, um, spent a few minutes in the car wondering what you were wearing under the pink cardigan. This seems right. This seems....you, I guess." "Not the type you expect to wear racy underwear, huh Mulder?" Scully asked, a sinister motive lacing her words. Mulder nuzzled with the tip of his nose, the soft skin just above where the bra sat. "I bet you could if you wanted to." He trailed his nose over her again, and the skin stiffened, and goosebumps broke out. Scully gasped at the feel of it. "Your nose is cold," she chided lightly, tipping his chin to press a kiss to it. Mulder smiled and dipped his head, pressing a kiss to her cleavage that beckoned to him. Scully slid her hands under the soft wool weave of his sweater and tugged it gently over his head. Mulder assisted her, their hands fumbling and grazing over each others as they pulled the sweater up and over his head. Scully dropped the wool to the floor, it crumpling next to the frosted pink cardigan, like a casualty of a private war. Mulder immediately reached for his t-shirt and wrestled out of it, letting it slide from his fingers to the floor. Now it was Scully's turn to survey Mulder's exposed chest. She reached forward and stroked with a fingernail, down the center of his chest, following the soft scattering of hair. Mulder sighed at the feeling of her fingers performing this magic. She circled her fingertips lightly over his nipples, scratching then soothing. She ran her hands back up to his broad shoulders, and pushed at him gently but firmly. "Lie down." Mulder obliged, pushing his hips forward and sliding down so his head rested on the armrest. Scully placed her knees either side of his hips and leaned down on top of him. Her bra-clad breasts brushed against his chest, and she wriggled down a little further. She rested her head on his warm chest, and made her declaration. "I love you." She said it so softly, so quietly, almost if she was afraid for him to hear it. He craned his neck slightly straining to hear her gossamer-like words. Yep. No mistake about it. She had said the 'L' word. About damn time too. "I love you too Dana," he said, twining his fingers in her titian locks. That got a response. She lifted her head, her blue eyes shimmering with tears. "You called me Dana," she said softly, a slow grin blooming on her face. "Oh, sorry about that," he said, smiling back. "My mistake. I apologi...." His words were cut off when her mouth descended on his nipple. And suddenly, words escaped him. Scully suckled gently, her tongue sneaking out from between her lips to tease and taste the small nubbin. She grazed her teeth across it, and Mulder growled low in his throat. She soothed it gently with her tongue, and looked up. Mulder's eyes were hooded, his mouth slightly open, sucking in gulps of air. He opened his eyes wider to see Scully staring at him. "The female nipple has always been sensitive," she said softly, swirling the saliva clinging to the brown skin. "But I never knew whether it was the same for men." Mulder took another breath and let it out slowly. "Was that lesson enough, Agent Scully?" he asked, a coy smile on his face. "Actually," she mused, dancing her fingers across his chest. "I think we need to check with the other one, just to be sure." And with that, she captured the other nipple in her mouth. Mulder threw his head back on the couch, his senses attuined to only the feel of Scully's hot, moist mouth on his skin. He arched, pushing his hips towards hers, and she dragged her tongue in a circle before lifting her head. "Yeah, I think that has answered my question," she said, her eyes looking sleepy, slumberous. She pushed herself back up so that she was level with Mulder's face again. She braced her hands either side of his shoulders, and ground her own hips against his. He let out a strangled cry. "Scully, unless you want me to embarrass myself, I suggest you quit doing that right now," he said, his voice low. He took hold of her just under her armpits, and skimmed them down her sides, pressing his fingers in the indentations of her ribs. His hands moved again to the clasp of her bra, and Scully's eyes closed briefly, her mouth opening. Mulder gripped the clasp in his fingers, and waited for her to say the word. "Please Mulder," she whispered exhaling and pushing her hips against him again. A crash of thunder sounded. And the lights went out. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Death's Butterfly Wings By Jill Starbuck (jillstarbuck@yahoo.com) See top for disclaimers, etc. Incidently, I had an absolute bitch of a time writing Chapter 4. My editor nearly went insane waiting for it. It seems when I am writing the juicy stuff, I either make it too long or too short. Ahhhh, but it is great therapy for me. I don't need to pay a shrink a shitload of money to tell me what I already know. But I digress. On with the seduction...... 5/6 "That was a big one." Scully levered herself off Mulder's chest and stood in the living room of her apartment. The streetlights below shone in, their beam disjointed by the rivulets of rain cascading down the glass of her window. Scully shivered, and she felt Mulder next to her, wrapping his arms around her slender waist. She leaned against him, nuzzling her head in the crook of his neck. They stood together for a few seconds, soaking up the warm feeling of their bodies against each other. Scully reluctantly slipped out of his arms, and went to the kitchen, where she had candles stored. "What say we move ourselves into the bedroom?" Mulder said from somewhere behind her. Scully lifted her head out of the cabinet, placing the candles and the matches she had retrieved on the counter. Mulder stood where she had left him, the dodgy lighting coming in from the street obscuring most of his face from view. Scully straightened herself up, leaving the candles alone for a minute. Mulder took a step forward, and the light spilled onto his face. His lips curved. "You know, I had a dream like this once," he said softly. He took another step, and a feeling of apprehension washed over Scully. She suddenly realised that she was clad in just her bra and her jeans, and she felt exposed. Her heart began to pound. Mulder stopped coming forward, and paused, noting that Scully's breathing rate had increased. The rain thumped against the window, and a streak of lightning cut the sky in half. "Are you okay, Scully?" he asked. Scully let out a shaky breath, and nodded at him. "It's cool in here," she whispered, the butterflies in her stomach taking full flight now. She pushed aside the thought. "What was your dream?" He smiled, and stepped forward again. He was about a foot away now. "It uh, was more of a daydream, actually. You and I were analyzing some case material, and you were standing in the middle of the room. My mind started to wander, and all of a sudden I started picturing how you would look if you lost your tailored suit...." Scully felt a flush begin in her cheeks, and she bowed her head. Her cheeks blazed red, and she smiled softly before looking at him again. "Did I embarrass you Scully?" Mulder asked, stepping forward until a few inches separated them. "Don't you think you're beautiful?" "No one has ever told me," Scully replied. Tears welled into her eyes, and spilled down her cheeks as she struggled to maintain eye contact with him. "Oh, Scully." Mulder closed the distance between them and wrapped his strong arms around her. "You are beautiful. You are the most beautiful person I have ever met in my life. You're strong. You are so much stronger than me. And I love you more than I love my life." He pulled away and rested his forehead against her own. "Don't ever let anyone tell you that you aren't these things, Scully. If they don't see you the way I do, then they don't know who you are at all." "But I don't feel strong, Mulder," she replied. "I may look it, but I am so afraid of this. This is the biggest demon, the biggest challenge, that I have ever had to face. And I'm afraid that I am not going to make it." "You don't think you have to fight this on your own, do you?" Mulder asked. Scully's eyes fell, and he placed his fingers underneath her chin to draw her attention again. "Please don't think that this is a battle that you have to face on your own. I wouldn't dream of letting you face this without someone to talk to, someone to lean on. Someone who loves you." Scully felt more tears carve mournful tracks on her cheeks, as Mulder gathered her to him again. They stood that way, just holding each other, until Scully's tears had subsided, and the apartment was silent, save for the merciless rain pounding on outside. Mulder turned his head so he was speaking softly in her ear. "If you don't want to keep going tonight, if you would rather me just hold you, or if you would like me to go home, I can do that. We can work this thing on your own time. I'm not going to push you." Scully responded by standing on her tiptoes, so that she was almost level with Mulder. She looked into his eyes, which were black in the darkness of her apartment. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his jawline, and the scratchiness of his stubble met her. She kissed him softly, down his jawline to the cleft of his chin, and then up to his lips. "I want to do this," she said. "Now. Tonight. Because I love you. And because I'll never love another. No matter how long I live." Mulder chuckled, the sound deep in his throat. "Don't make a promise if you don't think you can keep it, Scully." "Do you love me, Mulder?" "Of course. I have always have. I always will." "Don't make a promise if you can't keep it Mulder." He realised the absurdity of the words. "Your right. It is a promise that you can keep." And he kissed her. They had been reduced to four lips, two mouths. Time had escaped them as they stood in the kitchen and kissed. Mulder groaned, and kissed Scully harder, reaching behind her to the bra strap he never finished taking off. In a deft movement, he slipped the clasp free, and the lacy nothing fluttered to the floor. He stood back and took in the picture before him. Her hair was tousled, and the denim of her jeans, which was almost black, stood out against the flawless porceline skin of her stomach, and her naked breasts. She raised her hands up, and over her skin. Light, feathery touches that held Mulder transfixed. She brushed her fingers over the flesh of her breasts, stopping to lightly stroke her nipples, which stiffened almost immediately at the contact. Mulder sucked in a breath and let it out in a growl. Scully smiled wickedly at the sound and did it again, light teasing motions that caused not only his arousal and determination to build, but her own. She desired more contact. Harder. Someone elses. Mulder's. He clenched a fist, and stepped forward, so that her hardened nipples were brushing against the muscles of his chest. He bent his head and nuzzled the centre of her throat, placing a kiss there before moving down, trailing a line of kisses that caused Scully's senses to go into overload. He kissed the centre of her breasts, and trailed down further to her ticklish middle. He kissed her belly-button, and she let out a short yelp of laughter. Mulder looked up from his position on his knees, his eyes shining, as if he had suddenly discovered a marvellous secret. "Would I be right in assuming that you are ticklish, Agent Scully?" He kissed there again, a little lighter. But to one who was ticklish, it was *extremely* painful. "Mulder...." she said, gritting her teeth. "I wouldn't...." She stifled a giggle as Mulder's tongue traced the circumfrence of her navel. He pressed his cool cheek against her belly, against the soft fragrant flesh. Then he stood, and extended his hand. Scully smiled in bemusement and accepted, and he led her towards the bedroom. "Mulder, the candles...." she said. "Forget the candles, Scully. I haven't got the time nor the inclination to wait...." "Five minutes while I light some candles so you don't have to make love to me in the dark? I don't want to make love to you for the first time in the dark, Mulder. I want to see your eyes, your face. I want to see everything." She pulled her hand reluctantly from his and gathered the two candles and the box of matches. Mulder watched her like a hawk, cataloguing her every move. She could feel his eyes. They no longer unnerved her. They actually made her feel safe, knowing that he was watching her, absorbing her with his eyes. Remembering this moment like it was his last. "You're so beautiful," he whispered as she drew close to him, the fat wax candles in her hands. She walked in front of him, and as she passed, he pressed his lips to the skin of her shoulder. She smiled and balanced the candles in her hand, and reached with the other one to trap Mulder's fingers with her own. Tugging gently, she pulled him into the room. "So, Agent Scully, you gonna have your way with me now?" he asked, squeezing her hand gently, his thumb stroking over her knuckle. Scully deposited the candles on the table beside her bed, and pulled her hand from Mulder's. She opened the box of matches, and struck one of the small splinters of wood against the side of the box. The stinging smell of sulfur rose up from the match, and the head flared bright orange. Cupping her hand close to the flame, she tilted it and lit the wick of the first and the second candle. The room filled with the disjointed, flickering light. Scully lifted the still-lit match to her face, watching it for another few seconds, before gently blowing it out. Mulder's heart pounded in his ears. Who would have thought the simple lighting of a few candles could suddenly be so erotic? He felt himself harden even more, impossibly so, until he felt he would break in two if he didn't make love to her soon. She dropped the spent match on the floor and surveyed Mulder's tall, lithe form in front of her. The flickering candles caused his chest to glow a honey colour, the scattering of fine hairs trailing down to his navel looking like strands of gold, spun by Rumplestiltskin. His eyes had darkened to a deep bottle green, and she could swear she saw his emotions swirling like storms in the pupils. She blinked, and the movement was gone. Their eyes locked together, their bodies a footstep away from each other. This time Scully closed the distance between them, pulling Mulder's lips to her own, and leading the kiss. Mulder occupied his hands with the removal of her jeans. Gripping the waistband, he was momentarily taken aback at how the jeans hung loosely. He slid his hands between the denim and the creamy skin of her belly. Scully's head dropped and she let out a sigh. "This is what you were afraid to show me, wasn't it?" he asked gently, stroking his hands over her pronounced hipbones. She nodded slowly, her eyes drifting back to his. "I wanted to be everything you desired, Mulder," she replied. "I feel like this body isn't mine. I'm used to having the curves I inherited from my mother. And here I am, half naked, your hands down my jeans, and I want nothing more than to curl up in a dark corner and forget that the world, my illness, and.....*they* ever existed." Mulder leaned forward and whispered in her ear, his breath tickling the sensitive skin. "What about this moment?" That got a smile. "Mulder, you have your hands down my jeans. Another three inches, and I'll be your slave for life if you hit the right spot." "I love a woman in uniform. Will you wear a little apron and hat for me?" Scully smiled, a little wider this time. She kissed the centre of his chest and looked up, her eyes shining. "Only if you say please." Mulder popped the button on the jeans and slowly, very slowly, pulled the metal zipper down. The sound seemed amplified in the still room, a grating sound that caused Scully to flinch slightly. He curled his fingers around the top of her jeans, and moving smoothly, pushed them down her legs to the floor. He stood back up and removed her panties as well, depositing them on top of the jeans. Mulder stood back to absorb the sight before him. Scully, completely naked, stayed absolutely still, her chest rising and falling. She felt dizzy, overwhelmed, and she fought for control. No man had ever made her feel like this. No man had been so careful, so loving, so mindful of how she was feeling. He wasn't rushing her, he was taking his time. And she knew that even now, should she choose to take it, he would let her back out, escape, draw on her clothes..... But she didn't want to. She had gone this far....hell, she was stark-freakin' *naked* in her bedroom, and it was only a matter of time before Mulder relinquished the last of his clothes. "Scully," Mulder spoke softly. "Yeah?" she responded, shifting on her feet. She brought her hands forward to her body again, one hand drawing lazy circles on the skin of her abdomen. "Wow." She chuckled, and held out her hand to him, and he walked, his hands tugging at the suddenly restrictive denim of his jeans. He undid them, and shoved them to the floor. Stepping out of them carefully, so as not to trip over them, he stood still for a few seconds, watching Scully, before removing his dark blue boxer shorts. The tension in the room was electric. It crackled, eminating off them in waves. Mulder could sense Scully, her thoughts, everything about her. He was acutely aware of her hard nipples brushing against his chest. Mulder stooped down slightly, positioning his broad hands on the soft flare of her hips. Scully looked at him warily. Mulder looked back at her, his eyes shining softly. Pressing gently but firmly on her hips, in a smooth fluid movement, he lifted her in the air. Scully reacted quickly and placed her hands on his shoulders, her legs wrapping around his waist. She could feel the soft dark hair between his legs brushing against her own, and his strong chest lying flush with her breasts. "Hey, this is nice," Mulder murmered. "I've always wanted to know what it would be like to have you naked, in my arms, with those gorgeous legs wrapped around me." Scully giggled softly, and Mulder turned so his back was facing the bed. He hoisted Scully's petite frame in his arms slightly, and sat down on the bed. Scully moved her hands from his shoulders, and ran her fingers down the side of his face, feeling the scratchy five-o'clock shadow. "No regrets, huh Scully?" Mulder asked, kissing the hollow of her neck. Scully arched her neck, letting him taste the soft skin. He felt her reply, a breathy, shaky reply, as if she was on the verge of losing control. "No regrets." And with that, the gate that allowed her to flee, was shut behind her. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Death's Butterfly Wings By Jill Starbuck See top for disclaimers, etc. Nat: I promise you they will sleep together in this chapter. As always, this story is dedicated to you, my most loyal fan. 6/6 As Scully sat on Mulder's lap, her legs either side of his narrow hips, she became increasingly aware of the little....problem he had. She decided to use this to her advantage. Lifting her legs slightly, she pushed forward with her hips, gaining about an inch above him. The slick skin between her legs slid over his hard penis, and Mulder let out a strangled cry. "You wicked, wicked woman," he said, his teeth finding her neck. He bit down on the tender flesh, his tongue immediately snaking out to caress the area. He drew back, and admired the small set of teeth marks he left on the flawless skin. Scully tilted her head back, her tousled hair catching on the smooth planes of her face. She gazed down at him through her eyelashes, a sensuous gaze that drove Mulder into a near frenzy. Grasping her shoulders roughly, he hoisted her off his lap, and onto the quilt covering the bed. He placed his legs either side of her hips, and bent his head to one of her breasts. Scully knew what was coming, and she tunneled her fingers through Mulder's soft dark hair. Mulder lips grazed lightly over the hard nipple, so light that Scully didn't think she felt it at all. But then he brushed it harder, the tip of his tongue touching the peak. A moan escaped from Scully's throat. "Oh please," she breathed, arching her back off the bed. She ran her fingers down his face, down the shape of his ear and the earlobe. Mulder drew the nipple into his mouth. It was sweet, tinged with a Scully flavour that he knew he would never forget for as long as he lived. He suckled gently, then harder, hearing the soft moans and breathy cries of a woman in ecstacy. Her hands were pulling at the dark spikes of hair on his head, and her body was moving in a sweet rhythm. Mulder lifted his head, and her cries ceased, replaced with a disappointed sound. He drew up beside her, and covered her lips with a soft kiss. His hand drifted up her pronounced hipbone, up and down, then over the skin of her stomach, and down to the cluster of curls beyond. Holding her gaze with his, eyes never leaving hers, he slid one, then two fingers between her legs. Scully's eyes fluttered shut, and she gasped, her mouth opening. Mulder leant forward, kissing her again, and his fingers began to move slowly inside her, his thumb brushing over the sensitive bundle of nerves. Scully gasped and cried out again. "Oh God, Mulder...oh....please..." Mulder stroked faster, and her head tossed fitfully on the pillow. It suddenly occured to him that they hadn't turned down the sheets. "Mulder....wait." Mulder ceased his fingers, looking into Scully's eyes. Sweat dotted her upper lip and hairline. She reached out and touched his lips, her eyes slightly dazed. "I want to come with you," she said softly. "With you inside me." Mulder nodded slowly, kissing the fingers against his lips. "Okay," he whispered back. He shifted closer to her, then rose up above her. Scully's hands reached between them, and she traced his long silky shaft with her fingernails. Mulder's eyes sliped shut, and he let out a moan. Then he opened his eyes, positioned above her, waiting for her word. "Make love to me, Mulder," Scully said softly, her fingers drawing light teasing patterns over him. He nodded and drew closer, placng a soft kiss on her lips. He was inches away, and a thought suddenly hit him with the clarity of a shotgun blast. "Scully, what about protection?" She shook her head slowly. "We both know we're clean. And I want to feel all of you tonight. Later, we can discuss the mechanics and the details. Right now, I want to feel you - all of you, inside me." "You make a pretty convincing case," he said softly. He moved towards her again, looking in her eyes for any last sign of regret, looking to see if she wanted to escape. All he saw was her love for him, a pure, liquid love that would span an eternity. Scully held him gently, at the base of his erection, and gently guided him into her. He felt himself slide inside, deep inside her, buried to the hilt. Her eyes fluttered closed, but he placed his hands either side of her head, urging her to open them and look at him. The twin sapphires shone with love, and unshed tears. They lay that way for a few minutes looking deep into each others eyes, green and blue, melding together. They both knew, as long as they lived, that they would never, ever, forget this moment. Mulder bent his head towards Scully's catching her lips in a deep, soft kiss, his tongue tasting every inch of her sweet mouth. At the same time, he raised his hips, and thrust slowly, in and out. "I've waited for this moment for so long," Scully told him when he pulled back from the kiss. "Words to express how much I love you seem so pathetic, so inadequate. Love is not even the word. I....I *treasure* you, Fox Mulder. I always have. I always will." He thrust smoothly into her again, at an agonisingly slow pace. Scully's senses were in hyperspeed, and she could feel, smell, even taste him all around her. He thrut again, and she couldn't stop the low moan that spilled from her lips. He thrust harder, and gazed at her with a slightly dazed look. "I treasure you too, Dana," he said softly, thrusting again, his tempo quickening. He tilted slightly, and his thrusting penis glanced against Scully's clitoris. She moaned sharply, and he did it again, rubbing the sensitive nerve endings until she was gasping, pleading for release. "Oh God, please.....oh, Mulder, I have to..." she whimpered. He placed his arms under her shoulders, and rolled her gently, so she was on top of him. She raised herself up and above him, strands of her hair clinging to sweat slicking her face. Mulder lifted his hands and brushed over her breasts, which felt swollen and heavy. Scully thrust her hips against his, and he moved with her. She angled herself against him, and was once more, driven close to the edge. "Oh, oh God Mulder," she moaned. He thrust harder, and her cries became more desperate. He thrust again, and she cried with release. Her eyes closed, her eyelashes caressing the soft skin under them. Mulder thrust again, and his own orgasm took over. His mind wiped blank the amazing sensation pulsed through. Scully collapsed over him, their sweat-slicked bodies sliding over one another. Their breathing slowed, and Scully shivered, then sighed. "I love you," Mulder whispered, stroking her firey hair. The candlelight sharpened the hues of colour, like the brightest of torches. She lifted her head, and a tear escaped her eye and rolled down her cheek. "I don't ever tonight to end. This moment, this life with you, I want it to stay this way forever." Another tear escaped, and before she knew it, she was crying. "Hey, shh, Dana," Mulder soothed, stroking his hand over her hair. "I'm not going anywhere. This moment, I'm more complete than I've ever been in 35 years. And if you think I'm leaving.....well, you've got another thing coming." Scully smiled, pressing a kiss to his chest. He rolled her off his shest, and they sat up, tugging the covers down to reveal the crisp white cotten sheets underneath. They slid between them, and Mulder reached for her again, wrapping his arms around her. "No regret, right Dana?" he whispered in her ear. "No regrets, Fox." THE END. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Please please please send feedback!! I get lonely... To Nat and James, love you guys, and I think it's about time the three of us took a trip away from the crap around us. Jill. xxx