TITLE:	Surreal 1/1
AUTHOR:	Crash
E-MAIL:	mamymac@juno.com
CATEGORY:	MSR
KEYWORDS:	Mulder and Scully romance
RATING:		NC-17 for sexual situations
TIMESPAN/SPOILERS:
Takes place during Season 5.  In this universe Skinner's been made the
Acting FBI Director, but it's only a minor plot device.  This universe
also assumes Mulder and Scully have admitted their feelings for one
another.

ARCHIVE:
Wherever you like as long as my name, e-mail address and disclaimers stay
with it.

DISCLAIMER:
Sing along if you know the words.  Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, Walter
Skinner and the X-Files belong to Fox Broadcasting and 10-13 Productions.
 They are used without permission and no infringement is intended.  The
only profit I gain from this little piece of mind candy is the sheer joy
I get from writing it.  I'm just a poor girl with lots of time and a
computer.

DISCLAIMER II, The sequel:  
The following piece of fan fiction contains material not suitable for all
audiences and discretion is advised.  In other words:  HIDE THE KIDDIES. 
No one under 17 admitted.  No non-shippers allowed either, you just won't
be happy here.  Feedback of the constructive nature is appreciated at
mamymac@juno.com.

SUMMARY:
A sweaty Mulder turns up at Scully's apartment and Scully gets hot under
the collar.

Surreal 1/1
By Crash

I break through the layers of sleep slowly, as if peeling away layers of
muslin getting closer and closer to the clarity that is reality. Reality.
 A friend once told me she liked surreal artwork because reality had a
tendency to be so harsh.  I ruefully replied that even my reality was
surreal.

The pink light of morning is piercing through the soft-white shears
covering my windows.  I sigh and roll over only to bump into the solid
mass that is Mulder next to me.  He's shared my bed on more than one
occasion, but I still sometimes forget he's here.  

Maybe that's a protective instinct in me.  I'm so afraid of losing him I
plunge myself into a self-protective denial about his presence.  But he
is here, breathing softly in his sleep.  I take this rare opportunity to
admire him in repose.  His heavy eyelids twitch slightly and his pouty
mouth has fallen open just slightly.  I move my face closer to his and
feel the puffs of his breath land on my lips in soft ghost kisses.

They are no substitute for the real thing.  Turning my head slightly I
place a feather light kiss on his lips.  He murmurs and snuggles closer
to my body.  I am reminded how we came to be here last night.  He stormed
in just before 11.  Skinner has been under some pressure in his new
capacity as the acting Director, so we've been forced to take on more
cases with the Violent Crimes Section.  Mulder has gotten bored.

He apparently got word last night we were being asked to consult on yet
another VCS case.  At least he had the mental fortitude not to lose it
with Skinner, although I'm certain he expressed his feelings to our boss.
 So after a long run he wound up here, still clad in his sweats.

I sat on the couch.  He vented.  Mulder had just launched into a diatribe
about how Skinner had the audacity to tell him to "do this as a favor". 
I'd finally found something I could latch onto to diffuse the walking,
talking time bomb my partner routinely becomes.

	"Mulder, if we're doing him a favor then he'll owe us one."

He stared dumbly at me as though I had just spoken to him in Swahili.
"Come again, Scully."

	"We do the consult on this case and we get to go work on an
X-file.  Call him and tell him that in the morning.  He's obviously
feeling a little guilty about the amount of VCS cases we've worked on. 
Use that to your advantage, Mulder.  You also could bring up the fact
that we've been quite successful with our last five consults."

A wry grin twisted across his face.  Boy can he be dense sometimes. 
Dense and sexy.  In his heated ramblings, he stripped away the sweatshirt
leaving him in a very sweaty heather-grey t-shirt.  My mind
had begun working on just how to divest him of said shirt when he
suddenly took an inclination to take it off himself.  I had to hold back
a gasp.

	"Scully, I'm burning up can I get a glass of water."

I nodded mutely and got up to go to the kitchen, Mulder close on my
heels.  It was all I could do to get the damn water in the glass.  A
half-naked, sweaty Mulder near me reminds me of one thing and one thing
only.  I hate to admit that.  I hate knowing that this infuriating man
can cut straight through my carefully crafted control and make me do just
about anything.  But there is such a fine line between love and hate, and
I feel nothing but love for Mulder, regardless of what he does to my
control.

My hand must have been shaking badly when I handed him the glass of
water.  He took it from me and took a big gulp.  As he lowered the glass,
he regarded me with concern, "You OK, Scully?"

	"I'm fine."

	"Oh?  Do you always shake like a leaf when you're fine?" he said
waggling his eyebrows at me.

My cheeks flushed and I immediately looked at my feet.  I don't know why.
 I've shared so many intimate things with Mulder, but I still get nervous
about wanting him.  Perhaps it's because he so capably leads me down the
path to reckless abandon.  Don't get me wrong, I like where it ends up. 
But the rational person I am 95 percent of the time doesn't go down
without a fight.

So I was shaking.  Basically because my fingers were literally itching to
touch his chest, to run through the sparse patch of hair between his
pectorals, to suck lightly on his flat nipples.  I was aroused. 
Completely, totally, hopelessly.

Then I was struck by the utter absurdity of the situation. Surreal. Here
he was talking business, about something important, and my hormones had
decided thought was no longer necessary here.  I do fine at the office. 
Some how in my neatly tailored suits, in our cramped office or at some
crime scene the cool professional I know and love holds the reins.  But
when we're here, where our behavior is often anything but professional,
my resolve is much weaker.

His chuckling startled me out of my reverie.  "Earth to Scully."

	"Whu- Did you say something Mulder?"

He moved closer to me and my feet unconsciously moved me backwards.  My
mind was still afraid to just tell him what I wanted, how I felt, that
his unconscious seduction has worked too well.  My back encountered the
refrigerator and I had to stop.  Which was fine until he got to me and
placed both of his huge hands on either side of my head, effectively
trapping me.

	"You seem a little distracted."

	"Um..." Words failing me, I finally gave into my desire to touch
him.  I slid my palms up his abdomen and tangled my fingers in the sparse
hair on his chest.  A bolt of lightning shot straight to my core.  It's
utterly absurd that merely touching this man makes me hotter than a
5-alarm fire.

It occurred to me I was just staring at his chest.  Mulder's face had
split into that odd twist of his mouth he calls a smile.  He apparently
thought he'd just discovered something interesting about me.  He had.  I
really like Mulder's chest.  I can't help it; it just turns me on.  But
for some reason, I have trouble expressing this and so many other things
I feel about Mulder.

I've told him I love him.  Those three words aren't hard for me to say
because I can wrap my mind around them.  I've always cared about him,
always worried about him and always wanted to make him happy.  Those
things are easy for me to admit that I want.  But showing him I love him
is an entirely different thing.

I suppose it's the Catholic in me.  "Thou shalt not have sex out of
wedlock" rings through my head a lot.  It was part of my upbringing.  Sex
was about making babies not about making love.  The realistic part
of me realizes that it's also about love and sharing yourself with the
person you love.  But the Catholic in me doesn't want to admit that.

As if sensing my malady, Mulder decided to play Oxford psychologist. "See
something you like, Agent Scully?"

I finally forced myself to look up at him giving him a shy smile.  Then I
pressed my lips to the object of my desire.  But he pulled away quickly
forcing my chin back up with his finger.

	"Talk to me, Scully."

	"What do you want me to say, Mulder?"

	"Well, I'm guessing by your behavior that my chest has either
sprouted something it shouldn't have or that, in it's bareness, it turns
you on."

I managed to say nothing, but turned eight shades of red.

	"Scully, you like it when I tell you you're beautiful don't you?"

 Was he kidding?  There is nothing more arousing than hearing those words
on his lips when he's touching me or holding me or...you get the picture.
 Then the light bulb went on.  If it's arousing to me, it's more than
likely arousing to him to hear the same sort of thing.  I'm also
painfully aware how hard it would be for Mulder to ask me to do such a
thing.  Yet he'd more or less just done that.

It sometimes scares me how well we know one another.  In our workday
routine this has made us a formidable team.  We can talk to one another
simply by glances and gestures.  Yet in our intimate life, we both seem
to crave the words.   I always feel safe and loved listening to Mulder's
murmured, and not so murmured, entreaties and professions of love.   I
cursed myself for not being as forthcoming.

	"Yes, Mulder I love it when you tell me that. I think you're
beautiful too."

	"Why don't you expound on that, Dr. Scully."

Mulder knows that I am not the loquacious one in our partnership.  He
knows I prefer to express myself through actions and not words.  But he
also knows that I'll do just about anything he asks me too.  He takes
advantage of it and that's why he had the courage to even ask.

	"What?  And feed that over-inflated ego of yours?" I teased.

He growled and crushed my lips with a mind-numbing kiss.  It ended as
quickly as it began.  "This isn't about me and you know it, Scully.  I
seem to have no trouble telling you that I love the way your skin feels
when I run my hands over it, that I love the way you suck lightly on my
lower lip when you kiss me or the way it feels when I sink into."

	"Mulder!"  I was certain my face was the color of a tomato.  It's
not as though I'm some virginal adolescent.  I know all about sex.  I've
had other lovers and a wide variety of experiences.  Yet talking about
"it" isn't something I can easily do.  Probably for the same reason I
say, "I'm fine" when I'm not.  I've always been embarrassed to ask for
what I need when I can't give it to myself.  I've always held
self-reliance among my most treasured virtues.

But in this situation, Mulder is trying to turn that philosophy on its
ear.  "Scully," he whispered low, nuzzling the side of my face, "I want
you to tell me what you like, what turns you on, because I want to share
that with you.because I love you."

My mouth was suddenly dry and I felt my breath coming in rapid gasps.  My
fingers had unconsciously started to run over his nipples.  He groaned,
obviously only having a slight grasp on his own control.

	"For starters, Mulder," I rasped, "talking to me in that low tone
is.good."

He chuckled lightly and licked my ear.  I idly thought my knees might
buckle, then he started whispering again.  "You like that do you?  You
want me to do it some more?"  I nodded, barely capable of rational
thought, let alone a sentence with proper grammatical structure.

	"Tell you what, Scully.  You tell me what you'd like me to do and
I'll whisper it back to you."

Bastard.  There, I've said it.  Fox William Mulder can be the biggest
bastard alive when he wants to be.  He knows exactly what to do to
infuriate me, to push my buttons.  Yet that turns me on in the most
intense way.  I suppose it does because I have a perverse love of the
challenge and this man has the capacity to challenge me simply by being
in the same room.

So he challenged me.  I can't resist a challenge.  "OK Mulder.  I want
you to take off your sweatpants," I said matter of factly, "then I want
you to lose the underwear.  Once you're finished with that, I want you to
undress me, but I want you to take your time with that."

I was rewarded with a grin that would have put the Cheshire Cat to shame.
 He peeled away his clothes then slowly worked the top to my pajama
bottoms up over my head.  He tossed the blue silk garment somewhere near
the sink.  He paused to run his eyes over me.  If I didn't know better,
I'd swear I could feel them taking in every square inch of skin.  I felt
my arousal ratchet up a notch.

He began to slouch downward, placing a warm, wet kiss just above my
nipple.  He stopped and looked up at me, teasing me.  He moved lower and
kissed the skin just below my navel before hooking his thumbs in both my
pajama bottoms and my panties.  In one fluid motion, they were down and
off.    He hesitated briefly, breathing hotly over my aching center.  He
stood up and resumed his seduction of my ear.

	"So what would you like me to do now, Scully?"

I was positive my brain had turned to Jell-O, so I said the first thing I
could think of.

	"Kiss me, Mulder."

So he did.  Hard.  I could swear I heard the air pop with an electric
charge when our lips met.  My lips parted allowing his tongue to search
out mine.  Finding one another they intertwined the way our bodies were
yearning too.  I could feel the hot, hard length of Mulder's erection
bobbing against my thigh.  His hands were running up and down my sides,
shaking ever so slightly.

He broke the kiss and stared deep into my eyes.  His own were a strange
mixture of desire and concern.  I began to fidget under his close
scrutiny.  "Scully, I'm happy to sit here and kiss you all night but I
think we both want more than that. Tell me what you want.  I'm not trying
to embarrass you, I just want this to be good for you."

Using the butt ends of my palms I shoved him away from me forcefully.  He
knew this was hard for me, so why the hell did he keep pressuring me. 
Deep down I knew the answer.  Mulder loves a challenge as much as I do. 
My reticence to talk dirty to him was a puzzle to him and his mind
wouldn't let go.  At that moment, I was not in the mood to be under his
microscope.

	"Damn it, Mulder!  There is nothing wrong with the way we make
love.  I like the way you touch me, I like the way you talk to me," my
voice began to grow softer, "I like the way you call my name.  But I'm
not the kind of person who wants to give you step by step instructions on
how to make love to me.  This isn't some X-rated how-to show, Mulder. 
This is us showing how we feel about each other."

I'd turned my back from him so I was facing the refrigerator, bracing my
hands on it's cool, white surface.  My eyes burned and I felt tears spill
down my face.  I leaned my head down until it rested on one of my arms,
trying to hide my sobs from Mulder.  I was slightly startled when I felt
his hands around my waist.  I opened my eyes and was struck by how large
his hand looked against my small abdomen.


	"Shh.  Scully, I wasn't trying to hurt you.  I just want to make
damn sure I get this right and, once again, I've gotten it wrong." 
Mulder's famous self-doubt rears its ugly head again.  I've honestly
never understood how someone so brilliant could think so little of
himself.  He began to pull away but I grabbed his wrists and he stopped. 
I turned in the circle of his arms and lightly touched his face.

	"Mulder, you didn't get it wrong.  If you were doing something
wrong I'd tell you."  I let a small smile cross my face.  Mulder isn't
perfect, that's a given.  But the man is as close as it gets in the art
of lovemaking.  "You make me feel beautiful when we're together like this
and you show me just how much you love me.  I don't need to tell you what
to do because you do just fine on your own."

He smiled.  A big one with teeth.  I had to chuckle at him.  He is so
childlike in his need for approval, yet he seems so unwilling to accept
it when it's given.  Although, he did seem to accept those words of
approval.  He'd begun to trace little circles next to my ear and he'd
started his ever-so-close scrutiny of me again.

	"What?"

	"Nothing Scully, I just like looking at you.  Especially, when
you're naked.  I have to tell you, you look great against this
refrigerator.  Think you could start lugging it around with you?"

I poked him in the ribs and he winced slightly.  I arched my eyebrow at
him, "Mulder, are you going to stand there attempting to seduce me with
your rapier wit or are you going to shut up and make love to me?"

It's amazing the way his mood can shift.  He can go from sullen, to
mischievous to amorous in a manner of minutes.  His eyes immediately lost
their mirthful twinkle and darkened with desire.  My knees felt wobbly
again.  His hands went to my waist and pulled me forcefully to him.  Then
he walked me forward so my back rested firmly against my old Frigidare.

He slid his hands down and round the curves of my buttocks, crushing our
groins together.  I circled my hips into him and he growled covering my
mouth in a feverish kiss.  His hands moved upward again until his fingers
found the hardened peaks of my nipples.  He gently pulled at them and
then drew circles around them with his index fingers.  My hips bucked
against his involuntarily.

	"Oh God Mulder."

His eyebrow arched, but he said nothing.  He bent his head and covered
one of the aching tips of my breast with his mouth.  I think I screamed
but my recollection is vague at best.  His hands held mine fast at my
sides as he slowly assaulted my breasts, slowly making me insane.  Then
he pulled away and I sighed in protest.

His breath was hot against my ear.  "Is all right if I ask you if you'd
like me to do something," he asked somewhat hesitantly.  I dimly wondered
why he waited until I'm two steps out of my mind before he started asking
questions.

	"Yes." I whispered hoarsely.

	"Would you like me to touch you?"

	"Where?"

	"Here."  His finger had tangled in the patch of hair at the
juncture of my thighs.  It slowly made it's way inside my slick folds and
began to stroke.  He intensified the effect by sucking lightly on my
earlobe.  "Right here," he whispered, "Do you like it when I touch you
here?"

	"yesyesyes.Oh God.YES."

My head tipped back and he began kissing the column of my throat to the
rhythm of his maddening strokes.  I had the sensation of thousands of
tiny needles lightly pricking at my skin, as if the air around me was
aiding Mulder in his seduction.

He'd slipped two fingers inside me and was steadily increasing the pace. 
Then he slipped them both out and circled the tiny bundle of nerves at my
opening with his thumb before sliding his fingers back in.  I was
writhing beneath him and holding his arms in a desperate effort to remain
standing.  With what little strength I had left, I managed to reach down
and take his penis in my hand stroking it lightly.

	"Sculleee."

I circled the tip of it with my forefinger, spreading the drop of
moisture at the top over the entire head.  I ran my fingers along the
base.  It amazes me how soft his skin is over the rock hardness of his
shaft.  His hips were now bucking in unison with mine.  I leaned forward
enough to take his bottom lip to suck on it lightly.  He growled his
approval.

I pulled away, "I can do that same thing somewhere else," I teased.  His
hands flew to my face holding it in his hands and drawing me into a deep
kiss.

	"God yes, Scully.  Please."

Those words were terribly arousing to me.  I've always known how Mulder
so easily takes me to the height of pleasure.  Yet I'm less sure of the
places I take him.  In that instance, I knew I had to power to invoke the
same yearnings in him he did in me.  It made me extremely hot.

I began to kiss my way down his body, pausing briefly to suck at his
nipples.  When I reached his navel, I took my time.  I circled it lazily
with my tongue and then stuck my tongue inside.  Mulder yelped.

	"Jesus, Scully.please.take me.take me in your mouth."

I licked him from root to tip and he trembled in my arms.  Then I circled
the head of his penis with my tongue before taking it fully in my mouth. 
I teased him by moving ever so slowly up and then back down again,
inching further up each time.  He was gripping the sides of the
refrigerator tightly in an effort not to lose his control.  I cupped his
balls in my hand and began to massage them lightly.  Above me, Mulder
groaned loudly.

I increased my pace and Mulder stopped fighting his instincts.  His hips
bucked in time with each stroke of my mouth.  He tangled his fingers in
my hair.  "Oh God, Scully.yes.you feel so good."  My cheeks began to
hollow with my efforts and I could tell Mulder was very close.  Once
again, I began to move faster and he cried out.

	"Sculleee!  Stop."  He pushed my head away and pulled me up and
crushed me to him.  He whispered lightly in my ear.  "You're too good at
that for my own good.  This is for both of us, OK?"  His breathing
steadied and he began kissing me.

I was just beginning to lose myself in his kiss when the icemaker picked
an inopportune moment to kick on.  The loud rumble of ice cubes hitting
plastic startled me and I jumped forward.  My feet tangled with Mulder's
sending us both crashing to the floor.  On the way down, I heard a loud
crack followed by a loud obscenity from my lover's mouth.

I propped myself up on my hands to assess the damage.  Poor Mulder.  In
our backward tumult, his head had connected soundly with the counter. 
There was a small cut on his head punctuated with a thin crimson line. 
"Oh God Mulder, are you all right?  Here sit up, let me look at your
eyes."

His eyes blinked open and thankfully his pupils weren't dilated.  I was
in no mood to treat a concussion.  I stood quickly and made my way to the
bathroom to get some antiseptic and some ibuprofen.  When I returned to
the kitchen, I had to choke back a laugh at the sight that greeted me.  A
very naked, very aroused Mulder sitting on my kitchen floor with an ice
pack pressed to his head.  Picasso couldn't have painted a weirder
picture.

I got him a glass of water. "Here take these."  I wrestled his ice pack
from him and cleaned the wound.  "Come on, I'm putting you to bed."

	"But Scully, things were just getting interesting."

	"A little too interesting.  You're going to lie down and I'm
going to keep an eye on you.  I want to make sure you don't have a
concussion."

I marched him down to my bedroom and made him sit on my bed.  Rummaging
through my drawers I found a pair of his silk boxers I'd stolen from him.
 "Here, put these on."  He gave me his best puppy dog look, but he could
tell I wasn't buying it.  So with a sigh and a pout he put them on.  I
found an oversized shirt and got into bed.  "Come here."

He snuggled under the covers next to me.  I forced him into a sitting
position and then pulled his body back against mine, stroking his hair. 
"Just relax, Mulder.  I'll tell you when it's all right for you to fall
asleep."  He grumbled in response.

	"I'm supposed to stay awake with you stroking my hair like that?"

	"What do you want me to do, tell you a story?"

	"Ooh, is it dirty story?"

	"Have I reminded you lately that you're a real pain in the ass,
Mulder?"

I was getting less and less worried that Mulder would suffer a concussion
from his fall.  It seemed the only one suffering was I at the hand of his
off-color banter.  Eventually, exhaustion overcame us both and we fell
into a deep sleep.

Mulder is still asleep.  The cut on his head doesn't look too bad.  I run
my fingers along it and then place a small kiss atop it.  A rumble
beneath me announces Mulder's waking.  I'm surprised when I feel his
strong arms pull me against him.  As my hips come to rest against his I'm
aware of something else that has awakened.

His eyes flutter open and he nuzzles my neck.  I idly am pleased it's
Saturday and we don't have to drag ourselves to work.  I thread my
fingers into his hair and kiss his forehead again.  

His hands have wandered under the hem of my nightshirt.  For the time
being, he seems content to merely stroke my sides.  

	"Morning," I whisper lightly, "How's your head?"

	"Mmm.  S'okay."  His fingers find my stiffening nipples.  "It's
getting better by the minute."

My skin has grown hot and sensitive with startling speed.  I pull his
lips to mine.  I suckle at his lower lip briefly before the intensity of
his desire overcomes him and I'm swept away in the fever of his kiss.  He
breaks the kiss and slides my shirt off over my head.  Tossing the
garment away he brings his hands back to cup my face.

	"We have some unfinished business to attend to, Agent Scully."

I arch an eyebrow at him.  "Oh we do?"

	"Yes.  Care to remind me where I was last night before that
infernal refrigerator of yours caused me bodily harm?"

	"You were kissing me."

	"How boring.  I think I can do better than that."

He bends his head and takes an aching nipple into his mouth.  First
laving it with his tongue, then sucking.  He moves his head to the other
breast swirling his finger over the one he just left.

	"Mulderr."

He pulls his head up and fixes me with his dancing hazel eyes.  "I also
seem to remember you doing the most wonderful thing to me just before I
was kissing you.  Think I'll return the favor."

His lips slide wetly down my belly.  He pauses to circle my navel with
his tongue.  He nips lightly at the skin of my abdomen and my gasps grow
louder.  His arms circle my thighs and he pushes my legs up, opening me
to him.  Once again, I feel his hot breath over my center.

	"Please."

	"Please what, Scully?"

	"I want.you..to..Mulder!"

He's decided to let me off the hook.  I feel his tongue circling my
clitoris just before he takes my bud in his mouth and sucks.  My voice
breaks on his name and my grip tightens on his head.  I lose the battle
to keep my hips form bucking.  I feel my body quicken, preparing itself
for release.

I'm so close. Mulder loosens his grip on one of my legs, sliding his hand
down over the inside of my thigh.  He's begun stroking me alternately
with his tongue and finger.  I gulp for air as I feel the last strands of
my control snap.  Mulder pulls his head away to increase the speed and
pressure with his fingers.

	"Come for me, Scully."

The words are a soft command.  Unintelligible words escape my lips.  The
room grows very bright and then dark as my eyes squeeze shut.  The room
spins out of control as my orgasm tears through my body.  I scream his
name.

He pulls his body up so his face is over mine.  I have his arms in a vice
grip.  He's smiling at me, grossly pleased with himself.  "I guess I do
get it right," he smirks.

	"Kiss me Mulder."

He slants his mouth over mine and I taste myself on his lips.  His
erection is tapping insistently against my thigh.  I break the kiss and
look wantonly into his eyes.

	"Let's finish what we started."  I take him in my hand and guide
him to me.  He sinks into me and we both groan.  

	"God Scully, you're so wet."  As if he should be surprised by
this.  He slides almost all the way out then pushes back in.  "So wet and
so good."

I didn't think it possible, but my arousal is building again.  He begins
to move slowly again and I move with him.  He's moving at a maddeningly
slow pace.  At first it seemed a sweet languorous pace, but now my
frustration is escalating and I want more.

	"Harder Mulder."

His eyes pop open and he looks at me in something that resembles
astonishment.  He increases the pace and I meet him thrust for thrust.

	"This what you want?" He chokes out.

The air has begun to crackle around me. "Yes, Mulder, yes."

The tenuous hold we had on our control finally runs out.  The room is
filled with the rhythmic smack of our bodies slamming together.  I've
forced my eyes open to watch his face.  His eyes have slipped shut and
he's holding his full lower lip in his teeth.  His face looks so
beautifully pained, contorted in that nether world between hurt and
ecstasy.

His mouth falls open and I know he's close.  I am too.  He's calling to
me.  "Oh God Scully.ohgodohgodohgod."  Then he shatters before my eyes. 
His animal howl fills the air and its low tone sends me crashing over the
edge with him.  We both keep moving until we can no longer and we lie
sated in one another's embrace.

Slowly, I come back to myself.  Mulder is nuzzling the side of my face. 
I'm shocked he has the energy to do such a thing.  I manage to turn my
head to kiss his cheek.  For some reason, my brain decides to pick this
moment to remember Skinner has asked us to do that consult.

	"Mulder.  When and where is that consult we're supposed to do," I
say trying to hide the panic in my voice.  Praying we don't have to leave
today, praying we weren't supposed to leave and hour ago.  Despite my
effort, Mulder still sense my panic.  He runs his fingers through my
hair, soothing me.

	"Don't worry Scully.  We don't have to leave until tomorrow
night.  The case is in New York. We'll take a shuttle up tomorrow evening
so we can get an early start Monday."

	"What sort of case is it?"

	"Serial rapist/murder. Promises to be really uplifting.  So can
we stop talking about it and go back to the cuddling.  You're wearing me
out here."

I shudder inwardly.  I hate rape cases.  I snuggle closer to Mulder both
to feel safe and just to touch him.  Again I'm struck by the absurdity of
our lives.  In just over 24 hours I'll be investigating the horrors of a
sexual monster.  Yet here I am, trying to awaken the sexual beast in my
lover once again.

Utterly surreal.

XxX

Finis

Mulder:  "When you were a kid, who did you identify with Wilma or Betty?"
Scully:  "I identified with Betty's bust line."
-"Detour"

"Sometimes a little brain damage can help."
-George Carlin