COURTING THE TIGER 1/8 by Eleanore SPOILER... Based on elements from third season. RATING... Parts 1 to 7: PG 13 Part 8: NC 17 (for sexual content) WARNING... Scully/Mulder romance DISCLAIMER: The characters and situations of the television program "The X Files" are the creations and property of Chris Carter, Fox Broadcasting, and Ten-Thirteen Productions, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended. X-PHILES: You are welcome to re-post or otherwise distribute this story among other X-Philes, as long as you do so for free, and my name and e-mail address go with it as author. SUMMARY: This story comes after the third season episode "The War of the Coprophages" and also after my story "Tiger Lily". I do recommend that you read "Tiger Lily" first. Whereas "Tiger Lily" stayed fairly true to the characters as portrayed on the show, this story takes off into relationship territory. No X-File... a romance. Mulder and Scully take steps to keep their changing relationship a secret. Scully has an emotional problem dealing with their increased intimacy. Part 8 is erotica. First posted August 1996. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ COURTING THE TIGER 1/8 by Eleanore "What is it, Scully? You've been frowning at those flowers for two days now. If it was a mistake to give them to you, I'm sorry." Mulder leaned himself against the edge of the desk close beside her, his face full of concern. It wasn't like Scully to be so distracted at work. "No, Mulder. The flowers are lovely." She pushed her chair out a little and leaned away from him. "It's the message behind them that has me a little baffled." "Message? What message?" A small smile. "Exactly." The tiger lilies had been sitting on Scully's desk when he had arrived Monday morning. After all, she pointed out, she spent more time at the office than at home. She had seemed genuinely pleased with his small thoughtfulness, and this had pleased Mulder in turn. Then she had withdrawn, spending much of the last two days deep in thought. Mulder had given her time and space, hoping that when she was ready she would share any of her thoughts that he had a right to. He had realized that it had something to do with him, because it had something to do with the flowers. Now he was frowning at them, too. "I just thought that you would like them. If there's any message, it's probably `thank you' for being so patient with me while I made an ass of myself over that woman." He grinned down at her as he made this admission. Scully's smile warmed and widened. "All part of a partner's job description." Mulder wasn't going to be side tracked. "So, what's the problem?" He waited and watched. Her colour heightened as she lifted her chin slightly. "I guess I'm wishing that there was more of a message behind the flowers." She raised her eyes to his. Her face was open, but so serious that Mulder felt a flicker of apprehension. "While you were making an ass of yourself over that woman, I was being eaten alive by jealousy, Mulder." She swallowed and forged on, her voice quiet and matter of fact. "I think I'm in love with you." For an instant, Mulder felt stunned and blank. Then there was a wild crashing and whizzing inside, as his thoughts ran off in all directions. He couldn't fasten on any one feeling. Disbelief, wonder, concern for her pain, concern for their careers, a touch of sexual arousal and a warm glow from the big unidentified good thing that was known in his inner landscape as simply `Scully'. She waited a few seconds. When he didn't acknowledge her admission she dropped her eyes. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have put you on the spot like that. Let's just pretend that I never said that." He saw the door closing... her face resuming its impervious shield-like quality as she retreated rapidly. He didn't want that. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know what he felt. But he knew that he didn't want her to close the door on him. He reached out and took hold of her shoulder as if he could keep her with him by physical contact. "It's okay, Scully. I'm just... it's okay. I've just got to reboot. System froze up and crashed. Give me a second here, please? Scully?" She nodded and waited, eyes down, face as still and white as marble. The feeling that finally took precedence over all the others that were flooding him was a consciousness of the honour she had bestowed on him. Dana Scully didn't fall in love easily. She didn't speak of it lightly. "Thank you, Scully." His voice came out rough. "You've offered me something wonderful, and I'm sitting here like a gibbering idiot without a coherent thought in my head. Forgive me. I..." The phone broke in with mechanical indifference. After the second ring, Scully lifted the receiver with a steady hand. "Scully. Yes, sir. When? He's here. All right." She stood and started to move towards the door. "Skinner wants to see us right away." Fear of loss mobilized him. In a few long steps he was past her and turned to face her. She stopped. He put a finger under her chin and made her look at him. Her eyes were cool aquamarine. "This isn't over, Scully. I've got a lot more to say on this topic. A lot more. Dinner tonight. Okay?" "Okay." He smiled, hoping she would smile back forgiveness for his blundering. And she did. ***** "Hello." "Hi, Scully, it's me. How are the autopsies going?" "Slowly. The more decomposed bodies have to be sorted out from one another." Mulder's nose wrinkled with distaste. "I've got a lead on one of the suspects. A real estate agent here remembers showing a rural property to him ten days ago, but he said he was looking for something bigger... with water. A pond or a stream." "The lungs of several of the corpses do have water in them. But not enough to drown them." "Maybe it's part of a ritual. Like dunking witches." "Where is `here'?" Mulder grabbed the information folder from the bedside table. "The Sandman Motor Lodge in Scottsbluff, Nebraska. All the comforts of home." He sighed as he looked around at the uninspired decor. "How about you?" "Holiday Inn in Tulsa. I was just about to pack it in. Nice of you to call before I fall asleep for a change." "Are you in bed, Scully?" Silence. "Yes." Suddenly he could see her in her conservative "safe" pyjamas, her bright hair a jumble on the pillow. She would have the phone tucked between chin and shoulder so that she could keep both hands free to hold her book. "Sorry that our dinner date got postponed." "It can wait." "We could talk about it over the phone." "We could." Mulder kicked off his shoes to stretch out on top of the bed, then turned out the light so that the empty room would disappear. He could see only Scully now. "So. You kind of took me by surprise the other day. How long have you been feeling this way?" "With certainty... only since Bambi." "And without certainty?" "No fair, Mulder. I'm not giving you any more details until you make a statement about your feelings. I stuck my neck out. It's your turn." "Okay. Problem is I'm really not sure how I feel." "You'll have to do better than that." He smiled in the dark. "It's not that it hasn't occurred to me. But I've always made a point of not dwelling on it. I've tried to steer clear of having feelings in that department. You're my partner, Scully. It wouldn't be by the book." "Touche." Silence. He wondered if he had hurt her feelings. "Scully?" "Yes?" "I didn't say it had been easy." He heard her smile. "Thanks, Mulder. And I do understand. I tried not to have feelings for you, too, but the Bambi thing hurt so badly that I couldn't ignore them any longer." Her voice was soft as she made this confession. She was being painfully honest with him, trusting him to a new level. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize that I was hurting you." He wanted to touch her. To comfort her. How had she managed to be so helpful and supportive when he had rushed off like a fool to see that woman? "You are a wonderful friend, Scully." "Uh huh. If this is the `Dear Jane' speech, please make it short and merciful." He laughed. "No, no. Just a simple statement of fact. You know that I care for you, Scully." He caressed her with his voice. "I've always been afraid to think along these lines before. Afraid of the effect it might have on our partnership and our friendship. It seemed safer to leave those ideas sleeping undisturbed." "I know. I felt the same way." She sighed. He could hear the rustle of the sheets as she rolled over. "Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut and the feelings would have passed." "No, Scully. I'm glad that you spoke up." He rolled onto his side and imagined her facing him on the other pillow. He imagined he could even smell the feminine scent of her skin. "One reason I've never defined my feelings for you is that I was sure that some day a serious, scientific guy who didn't deserve you, would take you away from all this, and I would have to let you go with good grace." "Sounds lovely. Too bad I had to mess it up by falling for you." Mulder's chest and throat tightened. He could hardly speak. "You're really serious about this? You're not going to wake up and decide it was all a mistake?" "Dead serious, Mulder. It's all I've thought about ever since you came back from Bambi's with the flowers. I'm sure about how I feel. I need to know how you feel." "Scully." He turned his face into the pillow to hide his weakness from her. "I'm afraid that if I admit what I feel... what I want... that someone or something will just take it away from me. I'll lose you altogether, or bring some horrible fate down upon you." "We don't have to act on this, Mulder. In fact, given the current circumstances, I think it would be wise to keep it to ourselves... to go on exactly as before. I just needed to tell you. In case something happens. I wanted you to know." She was so brave, so strong, so honest. How could he not follow her example? In his mind he started to rip the anonymous wrappings off the big, warm, good thing. "I do love you, Scully. I have for the longest time." His happiness buoyed him to his feet. "I thought I would have to settle for big brother." "I don't get bent out of shape when my brothers go falling all over some leggy brunette. Trust me on this." The smile in her voice made his hand reach out for her in the dark. "Scully. I wish you were here." "Probably better that I'm not. He grinned as he paced at the limit of the phone cord. "This is crazy. I feel so close to you, but you are so far away." "You are always close to me, Mulder. You infiltrate my every thought, influence my every action." "You amaze me, Scully. You're poetic!" "Just because I don't show it on the job, doesn't mean that I don't have any imagination." "Maybe it's just easier to talk this way over the phone. Maybe when we see each other next we won't be able to talk this way." "I should hope not. It would do terrible things to my image as the `Ice Maiden' at the Bureau. I won't ever say anything about this when we're working, Mulder, but it won't mean that I'm not feeling anything." "You'd have made a great spy, with your self control. I don't know if I'm going to find it so easy." "I didn't say it was going to be easy." Her voice was exaggeratedly low and sultry. Mulder burst out laughing. "I think I'm going to enjoy our phone conversations like never before." "Me, too. Mulder... thanks for not leaving me out on the end of that limb alone." Her soft whisper did much more to him than her teasing had. "...Scully... " He ached to hold her. "Call me tomorrow night?" "Count on it." +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ END OF PART 1 OF 8 comments to Eleanore COURTING THE TIGER 2/8 by Eleanore SPOILER... Based on elements from third season. RATING... Parts 1 to 7: PG 13 Part 8: NC 17 (for sexual content) WARNING... Scully/Mulder romance DISCLAIMER: The characters and situations of the television program "The X Files" are the creations and property of Chris Carter, Fox Broadcasting, and Ten-Thirteen Productions, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended. X-PHILES: You are welcome to re-post or otherwise distribute this story among other X-Philes, as long as you do so for free, and my name and e-mail address go with it as author. SUMMARY: This story comes after the third season episode "The War of the Coprophages" and also after my story "Tiger Lily". I do recommend that you read "Tiger Lily" first. Whereas "Tiger Lily" stayed fairly true to the characters as portrayed on the show, this story takes off into relationship territory. No X-File... a romance. Mulder and Scully take steps to keep their changing relationship a secret. Scully has an emotional problem dealing with their increased intimacy. Part 8 is erotica. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ COURTING THE TIGER 2/8 by Eleanore Scully stopped with her hands halfway to her face and looked with annoyance at the viscous liquid on her fingers. The door buzzer sounded again. Damn. She left the bathroom and crossed the living room. "Who is it?" "It's me, Scully." Her spirits lifted in happy anticipation. "Hang on a sec, Mulder. My hands are sticky." She had expected to have her usual phone call with him later, but a visit was even better. They had been separated by their work for over a week and had only passed each other in the halls all afternoon as they both tidied up the loose ends of the case. She backtracked to get a tissue and used it to turn the bolt and open the door. Mulder was leaning against the doorframe and breathing heavily, his face wet with sweat. "Hi." He smiled at her tentatively. "I take it you're running for exercise, not being chased?" Scully elbowed the door further open and Mulder pushed himself away from the doorframe to enter. "Looks like I've come at a bad time. What's that on your hands?" "Moisturizer. You've caught me in the middle of a vain female ritual. And if you don't mind, I'll just go ahead and finish." She went back to the bathroom. Mulder closed and bolted the door before he followed her. He fell against the frame of the bathroom doorway and watched in fascination as she stroked the lotion on to her face. She looked fresh scrubbed. The hair around her face was damp and curling. The rest of it was pulled up into an untidy knot. "Why do women always put stuff on their faces that way? With an upward movement? Seems to me it would be easier and more natural to use a downward movement. I would." Scully smiled with female superiority. "Always upward strokes, Mulder... to counteract the aging effects of gravity." He gave a little humph of amusement. Scully's neat, angular little face didn't have enough flesh on it to droop. He lowered his glance to take in her sage green terry bathrobe and slim bare legs. "You're on your way to bed. I just need a couple of gallons of water, and then I'll be on my way." Scully was watching him in the mirror. His face was pale and his sweat shirt was soaked... his breathing still a little laboured. "Help yourself to a towel, Mulder. How long have you been running? You look like you've overdone it." He took a sage green towel to mop his face and neck. "I was nearly finished my usual five mile loop, when I turned around and started over here." His face emerged from the towel grinning sheepishly. "That means you've run nearly eleven miles!" A little pool of warmth was spreading in her stomach... like she'd just swallowed a shot of brandy. She washed her hands quickly, shaking her head in disapproval. "C'mon. You need some potassium and sodium." She gave him a little push to get him to move out of the bathroom doorway, then led the way to the kitchen. "I don't have any of those electrolyte drinks. Here. Start with this." She handed him a bottle of spring water. While Mulder downed that she grabbed a sharp knife, quickly peeled several oranges and ran them through her JuiceMan with half a banana. She placed the juice on the table in front of him. "That should take care of the potassium and sugar. We'll just have to eat some good old fashioned junk food for sodium." She took a bag of potato chips out of a cupboard. The bathrobe lifted up as she reached to the top shelf for a big wooden bowl, and she wondered if Mulder's eyes were on her. She had shorty pyjamas on under the robe, so she knew she was perfectly respectable, but she felt an odd sensation. Something was expanding inside of her. When she turned around, he was looking at her legs, but not in any disturbing way. Just letting his eyes rest on her as he relaxed. She suddenly appreciated the self control he must have been exercising over the last years. He had always watched her, but it had never made her uncomfortable because he watched her hands or her face. Seldom had he allowed his glance to wander to her breasts or her legs. So this was one of the new things to come about as a result of their changed status. He felt free to look at all of her. She thought she liked it. Dumping the chips into the bowl she asked, "Did you need to see me for any particular reason? Something I missed in my report?" She tucked one bare foot underneath herself as she sat opposite him with her diet soda. Mulder licked salt off his fingers. "I'm so used to having you underfoot all the time, I missed you this week." A smile hovered. He was feeling his way, testing new ground. "It is kind of ironic. We practically live in each other's pockets, normally. Physically close but emotionally distant." She smiled as she remembered the nightly phone calls between Tulsa and Scottsbluff. "This week we were just the opposite." "I've been a little anxious, wondering how we would react when we got back together." He filled his mouth with a giant potato chip and watched her with questioning eyes. She nodded. "I was glad to be busy this afternoon, even though I was happy to see you." She examined the chip bowl studiously. The odd feeling was increasing. "It's good that you came over. Should make tomorrow a little easier." "Maybe." His voice had changed. She lifted her eyes. He was looking at her differently. Not as her friend. Not as her partner. He was looking at her as a man. An ordinary man who needed a woman... working by his side... sitting at his hearth... sleeping in his arms. And the part of her that was a woman was what was expanding inside her. Nearly forgotten, and shrivelled from months of disuse, she felt it unfolding and stretching, basking self consciously in the light of his attention. She'd been Fox Mulder's partner for so long she had forgotten how it felt to be someone's woman. To be aware of her limbs, her skin, her breasts and hips, her potential for childbearing. She stared at him with slightly open mouth, overwhelmed by the reawakening of this part of her self. The living warmth in her belly spread right to her fingertips. As if that weren't enough to deal with, she was suddenly intensely aware of his body, too. Long, lean legs... hardened by running, smooth tanned skin, large warm hands. She could feel him shifting her underneath him in bed, her smaller body overpowered with ease, as he prepared to plant his seed in her. Scully swallowed and flushed. So primitive. She knew he had seen her every thought in her eyes and face, but she did not look away. It was a good thing to feel like a woman again. To have a man look at her with want and to feel this powerful response inside herself. Especially this man. Her friend, her soulmate. Her lips trembled as she finally smiled. "What was the question?" Mulder laughed and reached across to grab her hand and squeeze it. "You don't know how relieved I am." "Relieved?" "Maybe relieved is not the right word. You said something in our phone calls about how we didn't have to act on our feelings. You are so controlled, so cool... " He faltered. Hormones were rushing around inside her... looking for some safe release. Anger. Anger was safe. "What? You were afraid I was frigid? A real Ice Maiden?" Her eyes flashed danger signals. "I know you better than that, Scully. I've seen the fire in you more than once. But I was afraid that it had been damped down so well and for so long that you might have trouble getting back in touch with it." Scully couldn't control it. "So, you thought you'd just come over and show me what it's all about, is that it? Help me get in touch with my feelings. Thaw the Ice Maiden by taking her to bed." Where was this coming from? He withdrew his hand as if he'd been bitten. "No, you've got it wrong. That's not why I'm here." He paused, his face full of confusion for a moment. "I'm just glad that you feel that way about me, because I feel that way about you." She wanted to say something to put it right, but the angry part of her wouldn't allow her to back down, so she sat and stared, her neck and shoulders stiff, her teeth clenched. He must have sensed her internal battle, for his face cleared. "Scully... " His voice gently mocked, but his smile was warm. "Do you think that if I was coming over here just to get you into bed, I'd show up covered in sweat and dead on my feet?" His gentle chiding released the pressure in her chest. The anger drained away and she was left feeling foolish. "No. I don't suppose you would." "And even if I had, your greasy face and that spiked hairdo would have changed my mind in a hurry." Her hand flew to her face. "It's not greasy," she started to argue, then stopped short... disarmed by his grin. She closed her eyes and turned her head aside for a moment, taking several deep breaths and letting them out slowly, trying to regain her equilibrium. A small reluctant smile was on her face when she looked at him again. Almost casually... she extended her hand to the middle of the table, hoping he would accept the gesture as an apology. His hand came readily back into hers with a reassuring pressure. "I didn't realize that the `Ice Maiden' thing bothered you so much." "It doesn't. It's very useful." She shifted in her seat, and her foot came up against one of Mulder's. "I guess it just hurt to think that you of all people would believe in it." "Well, I've worked side by side with you for three years and you've never looked at me like that before. I know it can't be because I've lost my charm." "Mulder, you fake. You've been just as careful as I have to avoid sexual behaviour. You've never looked at me like that before either." Her bare toes crept up and rested on top of his big warm shoe. "Not when you could see me." He ate potato chips. "We're probably going to have a lot of misunderstandings while we adjust. Confusion of roles, conflicting expectations." Scully drank a little soda, waiting for him to go on. His mild, thoughtful tone of voice was often the signal that something important was about to be said. "I've been alone a long time. You've had your close ties with your family for giving and taking of affection. I've been doing without, mostly. Now here you are... there's a huge well inside me that needs filling... " Her eyes stung with unshed tears. "Are you afraid that I won't be able to fill it?" she asked softly. "That you'll need more than I'm able to give?" "No. I just wanted to warn you, so it wouldn't scare you off. It's a big hole." She nodded. "That's okay, Mulder. I understand." "I think the other side of the coin is going to be more difficult for you. I need to take care of you, do little things for you." His other hand came across the table and stroked the back of hers gently. "You're so damned independent, Scully. Couldn't you let me look after you sometimes?" His voice was light, but his eyes were serious. "I don't know, Mulder." She pressed her lips together as she struggled with her answer. "I couldn't allow it when we were working." "No, not at work. I understand that." "Or at any function where there were people from the Bureau." "Okay," he agreed readily. "Or in front of my brothers." She gave him a sideways glance to see how he was taking it. "Or if my university friends were around." His mouth was starting to curve. "Or the Lone Gunmen." The smile widened. "I think I'm getting a pattern here. You'll let me look after you any time, as long as we are completely alone or among perfect strangers." "Yes." Then, making a special concession, "...and I guess it would be okay in front of our mothers." She looked at him with big eyes. "Just remember who set up these terms. I don't want you complaining about neglect, later." He lifted her hand and gave a light kiss to her finger tips to seal the deal. She surprised herself by immediately offering her other hand, and he kissed the tips of those fingers, too. They sat for a moment, hands warmly piled in the middle of the table, examining each other's faces like they had never really looked at one another before. Mulder broke the contented silence by rising to his feet with a groan. "Guess I'd better be heading back to my place. Think I could find a cab around here this late?" Scully stood. "You could stay here, I suppose... if you wanted." "No. After the way you nearly bit my head off back there, I think there are some mixed feelings that need to be dealt with before we get into that." He moved out of the kitchen and across the living room, Scully dogging his footsteps, head down. She didn't know if she was more disappointed or more relieved. He turned at the door and cradling her face in his palm, leaned down towards her. She thought that he was going to kiss her, but he didn't. He placed his cheek against hers and just held it there for a moment. "See you tomorrow." And he was gone. She stood there, still feeling his warm skin, and the pricking of his beard. Then she moved to the window and watched him loping away towards the main street. Preparing for bed, she felt a little forlorn, but in the middle of brushing her teeth, she suddenly smiled at herself in the mirror. He was good. By not kissing her, he had ensured that she now wanted nothing more than to be kissed by him. ***** The phone rang just as she was dozing off. "Hello." "Hi, Tiger. I'm home." She smiled in pleasure at his pet name. Not a generic "sweetheart" or "babe", but one chosen especially for her... his voice giving it a deep, purring quality that she loved. "That was a masterful move... not kissing me." He chuckled. "You should never give away too much on the first date, Scully." "Go to sleep, Mulder." ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ END OF PART 2 OF 8 comments to Eleanore COURTING THE TIGER 3/8 by Eleanore SPOILER... Based on elements from third season. RATING... Parts 1 to 7: PG 13 Part 8: NC 17 (for sexual content) WARNING... Scully/Mulder romance DISCLAIMER: The characters and situations of the television program "The X Files" are the creations and property of Chris Carter, Fox Broadcasting, and Ten-Thirteen Productions, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended. X-PHILES: You are welcome to re-post or otherwise distribute this story among other X-Philes, as long as you do so for free, and my name and e-mail address go with it as author. SUMMARY: This story comes after the third season episode "The War of the Coprophages" and also after my story "Tiger Lily". I do recommend that you read "Tiger Lily" first. Whereas "Tiger Lily" stayed fairly true to the characters as portrayed on the show, this story takes off into relationship territory. No X-File... a romance. Mulder and Scully take steps to keep their changing relationship a secret. Scully has an emotional problem dealing with their increased intimacy. Part 8 is erotica. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ COURTING THE TIGER 3/8 by Eleanore Scully caught sight of the tall, dark man out of the corner of her eye. She continued to watch the soapsuds chugga-chugging through the glass lid of her washing machine, but she was aware of him coming closer. When he plunked his laundry basket down in front of a machine just two away from her she looked up at him with a friendly smile. He looked even better up close. The laundromat had always been a good place to meet men. "Hi, Scully." "What kept you, Mulder? I was just debating whether I'd have to run my sheets through a second wash." "Frohicke turned up just as I was leaving. Had to ask him in for a quick chat." Mulder stuffed a mixture of socks, a sweat shirt and a couple of bath towels into the washer. "He asked me why I wasn't using the laundry machines in my building." "And you said... " "Burst pipe." He grinned and fed money to the machine. "Don't know if he believed me or not, but he didn't press it. You got any detergent I could borrow?" Scully measured some of her detergent into his machine and he thumped the lid down. "I'm not sure why we're bothering to do this cloak and dagger stuff, Mulder. Do you think anyone really cares whether we are seeing each other in our private time?" "Maybe not. But it sure beats doing laundry alone." He looked around for some place to sit. There was only one plastic chair, so he hiked himself up onto the table and patted the space beside him. Scully boosted herself up, and slid over close to him. The warmth of his thigh against hers was good. Then she felt his arm go around her gently. Sitting, their eyes were closer to the same level. She turned her head and found herself staring into the familiar grey green depths. "Hi, Tiger." The vibration in his husky voice betrayed the fact that he was not feeling as cool as he was acting. "I hear that you felt cheated out of a good-bye kiss last time we met." She made no move as his face came nearer. Radiant heat reached her just before their noses touched together, and his scent enveloped her. Closing her eyes, she drew his male smell deep into her lungs, the primitive part of her sifting it for cues to which her body willingly responded. At the first warm pressure of his lips she felt herself losing contact with the earth, although she could still sense it nearby. Three... four chaste and gentle kisses along her mouth as his nose stroked her face tenderly. He seemed to have all the time in the world, but when his lips parted to pull gently at her own lower lip she couldn't wait any longer. A tiny noise escaped her as her mouth opened... then the earth dropped away with a rush, and she was falling through all the spaces of the universe, her soul pinned to her body only by the heat and movement of his lips and tongue. She clung to them hungrily because they were all that mattered. She needed nothing else ever again. He pulled away. Too soon. Too soon. The little begging noise came from her again as her free hand clutched reflexively at space. The life sustaining warmth and moisture came back and stayed a long time this time... filling her mouth. Filling her. Gradually satisfying the thirst and hunger of three years. She became aware of the earth beneath her once more. His beard. His arm tight around her shoulders. They were in a laundromat she realized. Her hand pressed lightly against his cheek, moving him just enough away that she could see his damp mouth. Then a little farther apart and she could look into his eyes again. If she had had any lingering doubts, they were banished. The fit of their bodies was just as seductive as the fit of their minds. She smiled shyly as her heart silently pledged never to be far from these eyes and these lips, and his own soft smile returned an answering pledge. They were not separate any more. "Didn't think you guys were ever going to come up for air." Their bodies jerked apart in shock at the familiar voice. Frohicke was leaning against the washers enjoying their discomfiture. Scully knew that she was crimson. She knew that their soft bruised faces betrayed the depth of their involvement. She said nothing, but looked Frohicke directly in the eyes with a dignity that made him shift his feet and look away. Mulder did not move from her side. "Didn't buy that line about the burst pipes, eh, Frohicke? I'm going to have to work on some more convincing lies." "You had me worried, Mulder. I knew you were trying to get rid of me, and with your propensity for getting into trouble, I felt I had to follow you." Scully dropped to the floor and touched Frohicke's arm with sympathetic affection. She knew that he loved Mulder, even more than he loved her. "You're right. We're in trouble again. But not too serious, this time, I hope." She smiled at him and he forgave her everything. "I thought you two had more sense than this," Frohicke growled. "What happened?" "Bambi," they said, almost in unison... then grinned at each other. They would never forget Bambi. Frohicke just shook his head. "What do you think, Frohicke?" Scully pulled the wet sheets out of her washer and crossed over to the dryers. "Mulder feels that we should keep this very secret." Mulder jumped down from the table. "We can't afford to give the people who are watching anything that they can use against us. Not only are we breaking Bureau protocol, but if they knew for sure that we were more than just partners they wouldn't hesitate to hurt one of us to make the other toe the line." Frohicke watched him put coins into the dryer. "Can't they do that now?" "Oh, yes. It would be very effective." Mulder looked grim. "It's already been very effective." Scully felt a chill of fear. "But we've never given anyone any proof that we are more than just partners. We've both been very careful about that." The cold sick feeling in her stomach made her wish that she had never told Mulder how she felt. It had been a mistake. Selfish. Unwise. They couldn't afford the luxury of love. Mulder touched her shoulder to reassure her. "And we'll go on being very careful." Frohicke could see the hunger in their eyes. Now that they had admitted their feelings for one another, they wouldn't be able to stay apart. Their bodies would make them take foolish risks, endangering their lives. He remembered younger, happier times when a woman had looked at him that way, and he came to a decision. "You need a safe house." Scully pulled her eyes away from Mulder's face to stare at Frohicke. "A safe house?" "One that's free of bugs and wire taps. That you go to separately, being very careful to see that you aren't followed. Nobody, but nobody, knows where and when you go. Right, Mulder?" "Right. But we can't have a paper trail. Are you offering to act as our agent? To rent a little place for us?" Scully looked from one man to the other in bewilderment. They were moving too fast for her, and the utter seriousness with which they calmly discussed this spy thriller scenario gave her goose bumps. "I can do better than that, my friend." Frohicke pulled out his wallet and removed a key from where it was tucked into a credit card slot. "I own a little bungalow farther out of town. Quiet, residential area, mostly older folks who mind their own business. It's usually rented, but it's empty at the moment." He held the key out to Mulder. Mulder didn't take it right away. He didn't like to involve his friend unnecessarily in danger that wasn't his. "It's furnished. An elderly couple have been living in it since my Dad died and left it to me. I usually do the yard work about every two weeks, so the neighbours are used to seeing me about. I can supply it with linens and basic food. Continue to pay the bills. There's no phone." "That's too much to ask of you, Frohicke." Scully's heart was beating fast. It was a love nest. They were talking about a love nest. How did a good catholic girl get into a conversation like this? She hugged the idea to her inner self, even as the prim and by the book Agent Scully was turning it down. "Nonsense. You can pay me the rent you owe me when your lives are a little less complicated. Or, better yet, consider it an early wedding present." He took Mulder's hand and placed the key in it. Mulder looked at Scully thoughtfully for a moment. "I think it's a good idea." She felt herself blushing again. She certainly would have preferred not to have the arrangement of her sex life a topic for general conversation in a public laundromat. But given Mulder's paranoia, and the past intrusions the government had made into their privacy, this was a much better arrangement than they could have come up with on their own. She nodded to Mulder, then turned to Frohicke, placing her hand on his forearm. "Thank you." Frohicke leaned forward and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Anything for you, Agent Scully." Scully busied herself moving Mulder's wash into a dryer while he walked with Frohicke to the front of the laundromat. He came back with a small slip of paper with the address written on it, which she slipped into a pocket to be memorized later. "Frohicke says to give him a week to get the place ready. He's going to tell the neighbours that you are his cousin, a flight attendant on overseas flights who's only around part time but needs a quiet place to be with her fiance." Scully nodded. Her face was suddenly stiff. She didn't know what to say. "We don't have to use it until we want to, Scully. Or we can go there just to talk freely and watch TV together. Whatever feels comfortable." All of a sudden she needed to be by herself, to digest this new development. Without waiting for it to stop, she opened the dryer and started to pull the hot sheets out. "You can't tell anyone... not even your mother. There's no point in these extreme precautions unless we are thorough." She paused to look at him. "Okay." She continued folding. "Frohicke won't tell anyone. Not even Byers and Langley." A smile finally softened her face. Mulder knew her so well. It did make her feel better to know that this development in their private lives would not be analyzed, picked over, and judged by the Lone Gunmen. She lifted up her basket, and felt in her pocket for her keys, then turned the warmth of her smile on Mulder. The answering light in his eyes reassured her even more. "I think I'll go. Your towels will need quite a bit longer." She would have liked to be held by him again, but she guessed she'd have to get used to hiding these things. Wonderful. They'd just brought their feelings out into the open, only to have to cover them up again. But they were lucky that the person who had discovered them was a friend and not a foe. He went part way to the door with her then gave her hand a lingering squeeze. "I'll call you later." Scully walked to her car, casually checking the area to see if anyone was showing excessive interest in her actions. She knew that his words tonight would be guarded and neutral, but she also knew that his call would be the bright spot in her quiet evening. ***** "Hello." "Hi, Scully. Did you watch the news?" She felt a pang of disappointment. No "Tiger" tonight. "No, not yet. I was out shopping till late. What's going on?" "Whole troop of Girl Guides found unconscious in a field. They were laid out in a circle, head to toe. Doctors can't wake them up." "You're making this up, right, Mulder?" She clicked her TV on and cruised the channels, looking for a news broadcast. "Scully. I'm hurt. I don't have to make stuff up. Weird and wonderful things happen every day on our fair planet." "Right." The only news she could find was about an epidemic of rabid skunks. "Mulder, if I waste my time watching a bunch of newscasts for nothing, you will regret it." "Well then, maybe you'd better wait and read about it in the morning paper. You can give me your scientific explanation of events on Monday." She smiled. Daft man. Spent his time dreaming up ways to test her. Now she really wasn't sure if he meant it or not. The silence on the line was warm and softly textured. They couldn't say what they wanted to say, but there was much communication. "Sleep tight, Scully." "Goodnight, Mulder." +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ END OF PART 3 OF 8 comments to Eleanore COURTING THE TIGER 4/8 by Eleanore SPOILER... Based on elements from third season. RATING... Parts 1 to 7: PG 13 Part 8: NC 17 (for sexual content) WARNING... Scully/Mulder romance DISCLAIMER: The characters and situations of the television program "The X Files" are the creations and property of Chris Carter, Fox Broadcasting, and Ten-Thirteen Productions, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended. X-PHILES: You are welcome to re-post or otherwise distribute this story among other X-Philes, as long as you do so for free, and my name and e-mail address go with it as author. SUMMARY: This story comes after the third season episode "The War of the Coprophages" and also after my story "Tiger Lily". I do recommend that you read "Tiger Lily" first. Whereas "Tiger Lily" stayed fairly true to the characters as portrayed on the show, this story takes off into relationship territory. No X-File... a romance. Mulder and Scully take steps to keep their changing relationship a secret. Scully has an emotional problem dealing with their increased intimacy. Part 8 is erotica. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ COURTING THE TIGER 4/8 by Eleanore "Agent Scully, you wouldn't be lying to me would you?" "Sir, I would expect you to place the same trust in me as I do in you." Skinner smiled at the memory. She was quite a woman, this Dana Scully... a very attractive blend of toughness, audacity, brains and extreme femininity. He wouldn't have minded if he had been a few years younger... "You wanted to see me, Sir?" Scully came in, walking confidently, and took a seat across the desk from Assistant Director Skinner. "Yes, Agent Scully." He paused. Damn. He wasn't sure how to handle this one. "Is it about my sister, Sir? Has some new evidence come to light?" "No. I'm sorry. The status on that issue hasn't changed." He took a deep breath. Might as well take it head on. That's what she would have done if she had been in his shoes. "It's about some rumours I've been hearing about you and Agent Mulder." Her face became a little pinker. "Rumours, Sir? What kind of rumours?" "Rumours that you have become personally involved with him. Has your relationship with Agent Mulder become more than just a professional one?" "Sir, you know that Agent Mulder and I share a close friendship that goes beyond just the professional. That's not unusual with partners." She looked at him cooly with big innocent eyes. "Could you be a little more specific about the rumours? I think I'm entitled to a chance to refute them." "According to your expense report, the last time you and Agent Mulder were out in the field you rented only one room. A clerk in the Accounting Department took it upon herself to enquire about the beds in that room. There was only one." God, he hated this part of his job. What right did he have? How did he become some official Peeping Tom? "And did that clerk also take it upon herself to enquire as to who slept in that room?" Scully made a dismissive movement with her hand. "Really, Sir. You know that half the female support staff at the Bureau envies me because I have the questionable pleasure of working closely with Agent Mulder. If you ask Detective Kenneth Loveseth, of the Louisville P.D., you will find that only Mulder slept at the motel. The reasons being that the motels were all full, the hospital where I was doing the autopsies was way over on the other side of the river, and the Chief M.E., Dr. Katrina Henckel, kindly invited me to stay at her home for the two nights we were there." Skinner was trying not to smile. He should have known better than to think he could catch her out with such a tawdry minor infraction. She and Mulder saved their flagrant insubordination for the big issues. "And, if I were to become intimately involved with my partner, I hope you would think that I could cover my tracks better than that, Sir. You would never hear about it." He frowned a little at that. "Don't take the matter too lightly. There are good and sufficient reasons for the policy, Agent Scully." He stood. "And I'm sure I don't have to remind you that you and Agent Mulder are watched closely by certain factions who would stop at nothing to put you out of action." "No, Sir." "Good. That will be all." Scully rose and started towards the door, but stopped and turned back to him. "Sir, why didn't you ask Agent Mulder about this?" "Because I knew that you wouldn't lose your cool and say something that you would later wish you hadn't." She looked steadily back at him, and he could see the wheels going round as she analyzed his answer and tried to assess how much he meant by it. Finally, she gave a small cautious smile. "Thank you, Sir." Then she went out, closing the door quietly behind her. Skinner sat at his desk and wondered just how deeply those two were involved. Not much doubt in his mind that they were in love with each other. But Scully was a stickler for rules and regulations. That was one reason she had been assigned to Mulder's division of course... to keep him in line. Mulder was a pain in the ass, but Skinner had to admit he was good at his job. He had taken Agent Scully under his wing and they had turned into a top notch investigative team. Skinner sincerely hoped that she had spoken the truth... that if they were sleeping together, he would never hear about it. "Hey, Scully, look at these. I've never seen UFO's like these before." Mulder waved a couple of photos towards her as she came into the room. Scully came closer to the desk to take the photos, but gave them only the most cursory examination. Her face was stony. "What's wrong, Scully? What did Skinner want?" "Someone had registered a complaint against us." She tossed the photos back on his desk and went to sit in her own chair. "A complaint? What kind of complaint?" "I don't think I want to talk about it, Mulder. Did those background checks come this morning?" She pulled herself close to her desk and started to check the incoming mail. Mulder felt a surge of annoyance. "Don't do this to me, Scully. You are obviously upset. You can't toss out a piece of information like that and then clam up." She didn't answer. Bullying her never worked. "I can go ask Skinner myself, if I have to." Her head came up at that. "No. I'll tell you, but not now. At lunch, all right?" She stroked back her hair, momentarily cupping her hand behind her ear. It was the handsign that they had adopted to mean "someone may be listening". Mulder nodded in agreement, somewhat appeased. He watched her for a while before going back to his examination of the pictures. They bought submarine sandwiches and took them to the big fountain in the park. They sat right on the edge where they sometimes got damp, but the rushing water provided excellent white noise to mask their conversation. Mulder stretched his legs out in front of him. The sun was warm and it felt good to get out of the basement. "So. What was this complaint?" Scully seemed to have gotten over being mad about whatever Skinner had told her. She pulled a dangling piece of lettuce out of her sandwich and popped it in her mouth. "Probably just one of the army of disgruntled women that you have enslaved but ignored over the years." "What?" Mulder was lost for a moment, then laughed in embarrassment. "Yeah, I wish." Scully smiled and started over. "Someone in accounting noticed that we only rented one room last week when we were in Louisville." "You're kidding. And they assumed... and they told Skinner!" "Uh-huh." Her mouth was full. Mulder looked at his sandwich in disgust. "I told you they were out to get anything they could to use against us... but even so, it's hard to believe that they would bother with stuff like that." Scully took a long sip of iced tea. "I don't think that's the case here, Mulder. It was just some clerk who's probably been hoping that you would do more than unconsciously flirt with her. She just wanted to make trouble out of spite." Chewing slowly, Mulder ran over in his mind the handful of women he had dated or dallied with who also worked for the Bureau. None came to mind as likely candidates, and none of these passing fancies were recent. He hadn't been interested in anyone but Scully for a long time. Three quarters of a sandwich later he spoke again. "I don't know, Scully. It could be nothing, but it could mean someone's been recruited by our enemies to keep a close watch over our comings and goings at work. Someone we'd take for granted as part of the scenery. To get dirt on us, or just to harass us in the hope that we'll get flustered and make a big mistake." The teasing twinkle had left her eyes. "And maybe that's what we are doing Mulder... making a big mistake." She looked down at the wrapper she was crumpling in her hands. "Maybe we'd better stick with just partners after all. It would be a lot safer. We'd still have each other's company at work. And some day... " Her voice trailed off unhappily. Mulder felt like someone was twisting a knife in his gut. Just a few short days ago he hadn't even known for sure that she felt this way about him. Now the thought of not being able to pursue these feelings to their logical conclusion was unbearable. He very much wanted to be able to sleep with her when she was ready. "Scully... " He stood up and paced in a frustrated loop. "I don't think I can do that. Not now. Not knowing was only just bearable. Knowing and doing nothing would be torture." His voice softened as if to stroke the top of her glossy head. "I know that I would be a lot happier and more able to keep an even keel at work, if I had you to come home to once in a while." He felt like he should have been on his knees, proposing. Other things being different he would have done just that, but he didn't feel safe enough even to touch her out here in the open where anyone could see them. He forced himself to sit calmly beside her, a polite space between them. "We'll be very careful." She looked at him, her lip caught between her teeth, her beautiful eyes full of anxiety, and she took his breath away. Just what would he do if she decided that this proposed hole-and- corner romance was not for her? Panic nibbled at the edges of his mind. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ END OF PART 4 OF 8 comments to Eleanore COURTING THE TIGER 5/8 by Eleanore SPOILER... Based on elements from third season. RATING... Parts 1 to 7: PG 13 Part 8: NC 17 (for sexual content) WARNING... Scully/Mulder romance DISCLAIMER: The characters and situations of the television program "The X Files" are the creations and property of Chris Carter, Fox Broadcasting, and Ten-Thirteen Productions, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended. X-PHILES: You are welcome to re-post or otherwise distribute this story among other X-Philes, as long as you do so for free, and my name and e-mail address go with it as author. SUMMARY: This story comes after the third season episode "The War of the Coprophages" and also after my story "Tiger Lily". I do recommend that you read "Tiger Lily" first. Whereas "Tiger Lily" stayed fairly true to the characters as portrayed on the show, this story takes off into relationship territory. No X-File... a romance. Mulder and Scully take steps to keep their changing relationship a secret. Scully has an emotional problem dealing with their increased intimacy. Part 8 is erotica. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ COURTING THE TIGER 5/8 by Eleanore "You awake, Scully?" "Mh-hm." His whole body was quietly singing. He knew exactly where her breast was pressed against his chest... where her stomach curved against his hip... where her inner thigh rested against his leg... and he was happier than he had believed possible. But he had to go. He kissed the top of her head. She shifted, her hand sliding across his stomach. Sweet torture. "What time is it?" "Nearly 1:00." She pushed herself up into a sitting position, her face flushed and creased where it had been resting against his shirt. "Guess I slept through the end of the movie." "You didn't miss much." The night air felt cold and harsh against the warm, damp places where they had been in contact... accentuating his feeling of loss. To smother it he quickly stood up and stretched, then retrieved the tape from the VCR. "I might as well return this on my way home." Scully was still sitting on the couch, smoothing her hair, pulling her shirt straight, looking like a rudely awakened owl settling it's feathers. She glanced up at his words, surprise on her face. He smiled. "What? You've forgotten that I have to leave? I thought we had agreed on that." She stood then, looking down so that her hair hid her face. "Yes. We agreed." Mulder tried to ignore the little leap of excitement that his insides gave. He didn't think that she meant... but he'd better make sure. He took her shoulders, turned her to face him, and kissed her gently on the forehead. "Are you asking me to stay so that we can go to bed together?" Her face was a study in conflict. "No. I just... " Tears were forming in her eyes. "What?" His thumb caught the first of the tears on its way down. "Tell me." She was scaring him. This wasn't like Scully. "I did forget for a moment that you would be leaving." She gave a self-deprecating smile, but her lips were trembling. "It was just a bit of a jolt." She pulled away from him and scrubbed the moisture off her face. "It's okay. Probably just caught me off guard because I've just woken up. You go. I'll be fine." He watched her pulling herself back together, putting on her tough act. This was more like the Scully he was familiar with, but he was rapidly learning that the private Scully wasn't as tough as she would have him believe. He pulled her close to him again. At first she resisted, then slid her arms around him and hung on tight. To his horror, he felt her shaking with sobs. What was it? The evening they had just spent together... talking, touching, kissing... had filled him with peace and happiness, and an eager hunger for increasing intimacy in the future. How had the same evening produced such a different reaction in her? When the weeping spell had passed, she let go and he held her away from him so that he could see her face. "Okay, now, tell me what's really wrong, Scully. And don't say nothing, and don't say you're all right." She gave a half hearted smile as she wiped her face with her hands. "There's not much to tell, Mulder. I just hurt so much that I have to cry." "You don't mean a physical pain. You don't need a doctor?" "No, no. It's hard to define. I just hurt... and I seem to crumple up inside. It's like a feeling of... deep despair." "Fear?" "Maybe... or anxiety, helplessness... grief. The weeping just starts. I have to let the pain out." Frowning with thought he asked, "Is it your period coming?" "No. I thought of that already, but that can't be the problem this time." "This time? You've felt like this before? When?" He was brusque. Damn all independent women. Scully's mouth tightened stubbornly, but she answered. "The last time we came here. After you had left... " "Both times it's been here in Frohicke's house? Have there been other times?" She shook her head "no". Mulder chewed his lower lip. He hated to bring it up. "Any flashbacks? Bits of buried memory from when you were abducted? Nightmares?" "No. Nothing like that." "So, is it something about this house?" She looked around the quiet little living room. It was comfortably old fashioned, and completely unexceptional. "I don't think so, Mulder." "Then it has to do with what we do when we're here." That struck a nerve. He saw her swallow, and her face clouded with worry. He remembered how she had flown off the handle, back in her kitchen, when he had said something about her having difficulties getting in touch with her sexual side. But, here they were, weeks later, still just cuddling. She seemed to enjoy it just as much as he did, but she showed no desire to move on. And now it seemed that she was having violent emotional reactions afterwards. Mulder felt a hot wave of nausea. What unspeakable things had they done to her? Was she unable to be intimate without suffering mental distress? Was she never going to feel ready for the next step? His stomach writhed in fear and anger. His beautiful Scully... traumatized, scarred. He wanted to rip them apart with his bare hands. "Are you angry with me, Mulder?" Her voice wobbled just a little. "No, no... not with you." He put his hand against her tearstained cheek, and made his face relax from what must have been a fearsome grimace. "Not with you, Tiger." "I've just been thinking that maybe I should go see Dr. Morrow about this." She was being businesslike and calm. Dr. Morrow was the private psychiatrist who had treated her off and on since her abduction, and usually she would do anything to avoid talking with him. She was just as scared and worried about this as he was. "That might be a good idea. I don't think I can help with this... I'm too close to it." Her blue eyes were steady as she nodded. "Right. I'll call him tomorrow. I'm okay now. You'd better go." She picked up the video from where he had dropped it on the couch and handed it to him. He stood a moment longer. He didn't want to leave her, but they had agreed that they would never both spend all night at the house. It wouldn't take any time at all for the watchers to figure things out if they both went missing at the same times. They had to stagger their comings and goings and randomize the days and times... to protect the few precious hours that they took for themselves. Unwillingly, he tied his shoes and picked up his jacket. At the door he kissed her one last time, and she responded warmly. "Sure you're okay?" She nodded and gently pushed him out the door. When it was closed she wrapped her arms about herself and hung on tight. She didn't make a sound until he was away from the house. The tears fell silently until he passed under the streetlight at the corner, then the wailing sobs started again and she slumped against the wall in misery. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ END OF PART 5 OF 8 comments to Eleanore COURTING THE TIGER 6/8 by Eleanore SPOILER... Based on elements from third season. RATING... Parts 1 to 7: PG 13 Part 8: NC 17 (for sexual content) WARNING... Scully/Mulder romance DISCLAIMER: The characters and situations of the television program "The X Files" are the creations and property of Chris Carter, Fox Broadcasting, and Ten-Thirteen Productions, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended. X-PHILES: You are welcome to re-post or otherwise distribute this story among other X-Philes, as long as you do so for free, and my name and e-mail address go with it as author. SUMMARY: This story comes after the third season episode "The War of the Coprophages" and also after my story "Tiger Lily". I do recommend that you read "Tiger Lily" first. Whereas "Tiger Lily" stayed fairly true to the characters as portrayed on the show, this story takes off into relationship territory. No X-File... a romance. Mulder and Scully take steps to keep their changing relationship a secret. Scully has an emotional problem dealing with their increased intimacy. Part 8 is erotica. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ COURTING THE TIGER 6/8 by Eleanore "Good morning, Dana. Come right in. You're looking well." Dr. Morrow ran through his `putting the patient at ease' routine. It always made Scully smile, which she supposed, meant that it was working. "Good Morning, Dr. Morrow. I am well, thank you." As she sat in the deep armchair opposite him she realized that she meant it, too. Except for the times when she was weeping, she felt full of energy and happiness. Knowing that Mulder loved her was a constant source of strength and joy. No wonder people wrote songs and poems about it. "Not nightmares again, then. You look too well rested." He offered her a sugarless mint before taking one himself. "Tell me what's been happening in your life." He looked at her calmly out of ice blue eyes in a handsome rectangular face. His wavy grey-white hair, cut close to his head, and his rather stiff, formal bearing gave a military impression. His suits were of impeccable taste, although of a slightly old fashioned cut. In her more uncharitable moments Scully had accused him of sitting there doing nothing while she rambled on aimlessly at great expense. In reality, she knew that he was working very hard... sorting and sifting her words, prodding and guiding her thoughts, testing and assessing her emotions. "I need to give you a little background first. And I would like to ask you not to put anything about this into your files. Nothing written or taped, or stored on a computer. Nothing. Can you assure me of that?" He nodded, and pushed aside his leather note case and Mont Blanc fountain pen. Scully crossed her legs and settled back. "A few weeks ago, a situation came up at work that forced me to reassess my feelings for my partner, Fox Mulder. I've realized that I am in love with him, and he loves me... " Scully went on to explain about the past intrusions made on their privacy, the dangers that were increased by their new relationship, the need for secrecy. Then she told him about the safe house. "We've only used it a few times. Just to be able to talk freely and spend a little time together." Scully's voice was getting tight. She could feel emotion rising in her chest. "We haven't slept together yet." "What's the reason for that?" "I'm afraid, I think. It would be safer for both of us if we just went back to being partners. Mulder thinks it's something else." "What does he think it is?" She had drawn her feet up into the big armchair, hugging one trousered knee to her chest to try to still the churning inside. "I think he feels that I have some hang up about sex... because of what he fears they did to me." "When you were abducted." She nodded. "I have been behaving rather oddly." He merely raised his crispy white eyebrows, and waited. "I'm fine until the visit's over. Then after he's gone I'm overcome with the strongest feelings of... despair. At least that's the closest label I can put on it. It's such an intense and painful feeling of sadness that I start to cry." "How often has this happened?" "Four times. The last four times that we have met at the house." She looked down at her empty shoes on the thick wool carpet. "I told Mulder it had only been twice. He worries about me too much." "So he's not there when this happens. How did he find out about it?" "The last time, I started to cry while he was there. I had been asleep, and the feeling took me by surprise. The other times I've been able to hold it in until he's gone." "Let me clarify something here. At first you said that it happened after he was gone, but now you're saying that the feeling comes before he goes?" "Yes. The feeling comes before he goes. The crying is after, except for the last time." "But you feel like crying before he goes, it's just that you are usually able to hold it back." She nodded and looked at him hopefully. Did he already have some insight? After some thought he merely asked another question. "For the moment, let's assume that it's just a normal fear for your safety, yours and Agent Mulder's. You are a strong minded and principled person. Why do you keep going to the house if you think it's a mistake to do so?" Scully blushed hotly. She was embarrassed to have to admit to such foolish and weak behaviour. "I have no excuse. It just feels too good. We've both of us been on our own for so long... " The hunger for Mulder's touch rose inside her. "Weakness of the flesh, I'm afraid." "But yet you stop short of actually sleeping together. Supposing your enemies were to learn of your visits to this safe house. They wouldn't know whether or not you were actually sleeping together. The danger would be the same whether you were or you weren't. So what is your reason for not?" "I keep thinking that it will be easier to stop if we don't. We should stop. It's taking unnecessary risk. We should go back to being just partners." "If you are convinced of that, why did you start in the first place?" "Because Mulder wanted it very much... " That wasn't quite fair. "...and I did, too. When we first started going to the house I was assuming that we would have sex. I was prepared to take the risk." "What changed?" "It was the weeping that changed my mind. The first time we met there was just for a few minutes to check the place out. We felt too self conscious to do anything. Second time was better. Third time we were relaxed and happy. Spent a couple of hours necking on the couch." She couldn't keep the smile from her face. "I decided that the next time we would go to bed together, that I was more than ready and there was no point in putting it off any longer. But then when he left that night, I was hit with the pain and the weeping for the first time. It scared me. It was so... overpowering. I couldn't think of any other reason for it except that part of me was telling the other part of me that I shouldn't be doing what I was doing. That I was putting us both in unnecessary danger, and the pain was caused by fear and guilt." "So the next time we still just sat on the couch. He didn't pressure me, but I think he was beginning to wonder." She ran her finger along the piping of the chair cushion. "I wasn't able to make myself tell him that I thought we should stop, and the pain and the weeping came as he was leaving that time, too, almost like a punishment. And two more times since." She rested her cheek against her raised knee as if the physical support would also give rest to her mind. Dr. Morrow frowned. "Guilt and punishment. Weakness of the flesh. Am I catching religious overtones here?" "No, that's not the problem." Scully's head came up as she said this. "I've had lovers before... that I was far less committed to. It's not a moral question of whether I should be sleeping with him. It's just a question of timing and circumstances. I love him. All the way." Her voice was warm and strong. "There's no conflict with my personal religious beliefs." The psychiatrist smiled. "You certainly seem sure of your feelings on that point." Scully smiled back. She liked Dr. Morrow. His somewhat reserved manner suited her, and she knew that behind it was a warm heart and a flexible, enquiring mind. After a moment's thought he spoke. "Dana, I'd like you to think back to a time in the past when you planned to do something that you felt was wrong. Something your parents would disapprove of, or something that was against the rules and regulations, but for your own reasons you have decided to do this thing anyway. Can you remember an incident like that?" Scully had no problem coming up with an example. She thought of the time that her girlfriend Judith had talked her into "borrowing" her mother's car and driving the two hundred and forty miles to the college town where Judith's boyfriend was going to school. They had planned to go right after class on Friday night and bunk in with some friends at one of the dorms until Sunday. Dana hadn't told her mother where they were going, but had left a letter on her bed to explain that they were okay and would be back. God, that Judith had been a terrible influence. That hadn't been the first, or the last, of the escapades Dana had shared with her. Dr. Morrow's voice brought her back. "Now I want you to think specifically about the planning stages of this event. How did you feel when you were planning to do this thing that you knew was wrong?" "Terrified. I knew my Dad would really tear a strip off me when I got back. I tried to back out a couple of times, but Judith always seemed to be able to talk me around. Some teenage malarkey about true love. Peer group blackmail." "Give me more details about how you felt." "Really scared. Couldn't sleep at all the night before. Butterflies in my stomach. Whenever I thought about it my heart would pound. Guilty, because I knew it would hurt my mother, even though I left her a note. I felt awful." "In other words, being a carefully brought up young woman with a well developed conscience, you suffered a lot before you even committed the deed." Scully nodded agreement. "Now tell me how you felt the last time you were planning to meet Mulder at the safe house." She didn't answer right away. Warning signs were flashing cautionary yellow. Where was he going with this? "There's not much planning involved." "You must have some way of communicating in advance what time you will meet there. How did you do that the last time, for example." "Mulder wrote a note and passed it to me on top of some files. It just said 7:30 with a question mark." "What time of day was this?" "Maybe 11:00. Definitely before lunch." "So from 11:00 till 7:30 you were planning to meet Mulder. How did you feel?" Dr. Morrow would not be satisfied until she gave him what he wanted. She closed her eyes. "I felt excited. Happy." She could see Mulder's head bent over his work. He looked up and caught her watching him and gave her a wink. She could feel the little sunburst of joy inside her. "I can hardly wait to leave the office... to get out of that damned suit and put on some of my own clothes. I can hardly wait to feel his arms around me. I feel good. I feel attractive. I feel loved." When she opened her eyes Dr. Morrow was waiting, calm and non judgemental. "I didn't feel the least bit scared or anxious or guilty. My conscience wasn't bothering me at all. And that's your point, isn't it?" He merely said mildly, "It's been my experience that a person with a conscience usually suffers quite a bit before they do something that they really feel is wrong. Which makes me suspect that the pain and the weeping are not from guilt or fear of consequences." Scully kept her chin up, but she felt small and cold. "That means that Mulder was right. Something's wrong with me." She went white. "I could see it in his eyes. He thinks I'm not normal. He's afraid that unconsciously, I'm afraid to have sex because... because... " She forced the panic down. Gripping her icy hands together to keep them from trembling, she made herself finish. "He thinks that they experimented on me, abused me sexually." Dr. Morrow got up and poured her a mug of coffee from the carafe on the antique side table. He passed it to her with a small sweet biscuit, and sat on a chair close to her while she automatically ate and drank. "Dana, you know that we have never brought anything up from your memory that would substantiate that. I will admit that it's a possibility, but I think that the answer may be a whole lot simpler than that." "What?" Treading water desperately, close to sinking in cold grey fear, she eagerly reached out for this lifeline he was casting her. "Let's continue to recall your feelings as you go through your visit with Mulder. Let's see if we can pinpoint when you start to feel the pain. That may help us to determine the cause of your weeping." "All right." This was familiar. Reassured by the psychiatrist's steady, unruffled behaviour, she had regained her footing. She handed him the empty mug. "Thank you." For the coffee and so much more. Dr. Morrow went back to his usual chair. "Would you like to sit in the recliner for this? You might feel more relaxed, and it might help you to remember more clearly." As usual, she refused. This big armchair was her bastion. She had weathered many uncomfortable discussions in its friendly velvet arms, and she preferred to be upright to face the enemy. Sitting cross legged and holding the throw cushion to her stomach, she put her back up against the chair's solid support and closed her eyes again. "Take a few deep breaths. Let them out slowly. All the way out. Let your fears go for the moment. We can deal with them later. You are safe here. Another deep breath. Expand your chest as far as possible. Blow it all the way out until you are completely empty. Once more. Very good, Dana. Now, think about going to meet Mulder. What time did you leave work?" "Late. I had to do an autopsy that didn't come in until after 4:00. It's not something that you can hurry. We owe it to the dead to be careful and thorough." "Are you worried about being late?" "No. Mulder stopped by about 6:00. He knew I would be tied up for quite a while longer. He just smiled and wandered out again. I knew that he would get to the house first, and that he would just wait for me." "How are you feeling?" " ... content. Mulder and I are very good at subliminal communication. No need to ask, no need to answer. My assistant is totally unaware of the exchange." "What do you do when you are finished?" "I go home to change. It's not much out of my way. I have a quick shower and put on some jeans and a loose flannel shirt. No bra." Scully smiled. "I'm feeling excited and happy. It takes a long time to get there. I have to drive around a lot to make sure that no one is following me. Take a very indirect route and park my car in parking lot of a big mall. Go through the mall. Always watching for followers. Take a bus to within a mile of the house. Walk the rest of the way. Mulder doesn't bring his car at all. Takes cabs to somewhere close and walks the rest of the way. Always a different route." ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ END OF PART 6 OF 8 comments to Eleanore COURTING THE TIGER 7/8 by Eleanore SPOILER... Based on elements from third season. RATING... Parts 1 to 7: PG 13 Part 8: NC 17 (for sexual content) WARNING... Scully/Mulder romance DISCLAIMER: The characters and situations of the television program "The X Files" are the creations and property of Chris Carter, Fox Broadcasting, and Ten-Thirteen Productions, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended. X-PHILES: You are welcome to re-post or otherwise distribute this story among other X-Philes, as long as you do so for free, and my name and e-mail address go with it as author. SUMMARY: This story comes after the third season episode "The War of the Coprophages" and also after my story "Tiger Lily". I do recommend that you read "Tiger Lily" first. Whereas "Tiger Lily" stayed fairly true to the characters as portrayed on the show, this story takes off into relationship territory. No X-File... a romance. Mulder and Scully take steps to keep their changing relationship a secret. Scully has an emotional problem dealing with their increased intimacy. Part 8 is erotica. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ COURTING THE TIGER 7/8 by Eleanore "How does all this subterfuge make you feel?" "A little silly. It's hard to believe that any one would take so much trouble to keep track of us." "All right. You are confident that no one is following you. You walk to the house. What happens next?" "Mulder's been watching for me. He opens the door and grabs me before I can even put my bag down." Grinning widely. "We're like kids let loose in a candy store. Just can't get enough. We hug and touch and kiss. He's got his hands under my shirt already." Shaking her head in tolerant amusement. "It feels good." She felt herself blushing, and quickly tried to cover up. "No fear. No pain. No guilt." "Go on." Scully shrugged. "We eat. Mulder has cooked something out of the freezer. A lasagna. I'm hungry. He's making a lot of jokes. He does that when he's nervous, but he does it when he's happy, too. We talk absolute nonsense. After we've tidied the kitchen we take our coffee into the living room and sit on the couch together." "How do you feel now?" " ...a little sad. I know that I'm not going to let him go all the way, and it puts a damper on my happiness for a little while. He's sensed it, too. He's disappointed, but so sweet. He never pressures me." "Is this the pain that makes you cry?" "No. It's just a little cloud. We soon forget about it because we are enjoying each other so much. I don't think we have ever actually drunk the coffee." "What does he do to you?" Scully swallowed. She didn't like to talk about these intimate things, but she trusted Dr. Morrow. If he felt it was important, she would follow him down this path. Too inhibited and embarrassed to volunteer this kind of information, she would answer truthfully whatever he asked. "He just kisses me at first. Long, slow kisses that melt me. He opens my shirt and fondles my breasts. Before long he is sucking at them." "Does this bother you?" "No." Scully could feel herself becoming aroused. "It feels good." "What do you do to him?" " ...I put my hand down to feel his erection through his jeans. Stroke his balls. I shouldn't do that. It's being a tease. But he doesn't complain." "Do you open his pants?" "No." "Do you let him into your pants?" "No." "Why not?" "Because I wouldn't be able to stop. And I know that I'm not going to allow that to happen." "Do you feel the pain that makes you cry?" "No. The pain that makes me cry is a visceral thing. This caution not to go too far is a mental thing. I would like to, but I have made a decision not to and I will stick to it." "Does he touch you through your pants?" "Yes. He cradles me in his hand. His hands are so big and warm. The heat and pressure just about undo me." Scully's hand came up to cover her face, and she sat that way for a moment breathing audibly through her mouth. "When he touches you down there, do you feel any fear or pain?" "No. I'm delirious with pleasure. We can't keep it up for long at that intensity. One of us would rape the other. We have to cool down. Mulder puts a movie in the VCR. I don't remember what it was. All I can think about is the feel of his body against mine. We snuggle into a comfy position and stare at the tube. That's when I fell asleep the last time." "You don't usually fall asleep." "And miss a single second of the pleasure of having him at my side? No. We usually get talking about the movie, or some related topic. Kiss some more, touch some more, but not so intensely. Just comfortable and peaceful. It's good." "Then?" A cloud passed over her face. "Then it's time." She swallowed. "What are you feeling, Dana?" "Sad. We have to go. Mulder goes first, because it takes him longer to get back." It was starting to hurt. She clutched the cushion more tightly against herself. "What is it, Dana?" "It hurts. This is the hurt." Her voice had a shrill edge. "Let yourself feel it. It can't harm you. Let yourself experience it and tell me exactly how you feel." "I know he has to go. I already feel lonely. Part of me wants him to stay, but the pain is growing. I can feel it building up inside me, and I don't want him to see me crying. I don't want him to worry about me. I try to hold it back. I'm hoping that if I can control it, it won't control me." Her fingers gripped the pillow fiercely. "As he gets ready to go it hurts worse and worse. I'd like to ask him to stay, to help me through the pain, because it scares me. I'm afraid of what it might mean." "Can you describe the pain for me?" "Generalized, strongest in the pit of my stomach... it's at least partly caused by adrenalin, which makes sense if it's fear. It's not sharp or cutting... it's more like... a tearing." Her voice started to quaver. The tears were too close. She wasn't going to be able to hold them back. "It's like something is being torn away from me. Torn out of me. I'm cold and I'm scared, and I don't want to be left alone with this misery. I want to beg him to stay." She started to rock gently. "What would you like Mulder to do, Dana?" "I just want him to stay. I want to hold on to him, pull him close against me to keep me warm." Tears were sliding down her face as she let out a soft wail of anguish. "I want him to make the pain go away." "And how would he do that?" "I don't know. He's just become so important to me, that when he's not with me I feel incomplete. I just want him to stay, I want... " Her voice trailed off in a whisper. "What do you want?" She was shaking her head, but the words came tumbling out. "I want him to hold me in his arms all night, touch me all over, make love to me, fill my emptiness. I just want him to stay." She gave a ragged sob. "I need his love, and his sex. I need him to stay." Dr. Morrow put a box of tissues in her hand and waited till the sobbing had died down. "Just before you let the feeling go, Dana, think carefully. Is there any fear? Any guilt?" She hiccupped, frowning as she examined the pain. Finally she shook her head and opened her eyes. "No." She blew her nose and gave him a somewhat resentful and bruised look. "I see Mulder every day. I know that he loves me just as much as I love him. Why does it hurt so much when he goes?" "You're a Doctor. You know that although we have advanced intellectually and technologically, our bodies are still primitive. When you are as much in love as you are, and as sexually aroused as Mulder makes you, you are setting into motion powerful chemical machines that are designed for the survival of the species. Your mind may have a good reason for stopping, but your body doesn't want to stop. Your body just wants you to go to bed and make babies." He smiled gently. "It's called sexual frustration. It's very powerful." Scully continued to regard him suspiciously. "Why didn't I recognize it?" "Maybe two reasons. You are a very strong and independent woman. Maybe it was hard for you to admit that your need for Mulder was that great." She nodded grudgingly. It was starting to make sense. It fitted. "And the second reason?" "With effective and easily accessible birth control, and society's current liberal attitude towards sex, many people of your generation have never really experienced it. Not at its full power." She looked aside and thought about that. She felt foolish. Some doctor, if she couldn't read her own body better than that. "I imagine that you would have recognized the situation for what it was if you hadn't had other higher profile problems grabbing all the attention. Who considers a normal thing like the drive to reproduce when they have persecution by government conspirators and illegal medical experimentation on abductees on their minds?" His voice was mild and conversational, but she knew that he was diplomatically offering her a way out of her embarrassment. The words sank in. It wasn't anything to do with what may have happened to her during her abduction. There was nothing wrong with her. She was normal and she was healthy and... she couldn't wait to get Mulder alone. A smile started to play at the corners of her mouth, chasing the last of the scowl from her face. "Well, Doctor. Do you have any homework for me this time?" "All theories need testing. This one should prove itself right or wrong in one trial, I expect. But further testing is always advisable." Laughter bubbled out of her. She could hardly believe that this stiff and proper man had said that. His face was completely serious, but his eyes twinkled at her. She gathered up her damp tissues, deposited them in the wastebasket, and placed the box where it was kept on the corner of the massive oak desk. Slipping her feet into her shoes, she noticed again how thick and soft the carpet was, and experienced a brief moment of professional jealousy. Everything about this office suite said money. Why on earth hadn't she chosen Psychiatry? But then she would never have met Mulder. Lighthearted, she shook hands with Dr. Morrow. "Thank you, Doctor. As usual you have been a big help. I'm not very good at finding my way through emotional territory by myself." "You are very welcome, Agent Scully. Not all my patients are as cooperative or as willing to work as you are. I'm very glad we were able to sort things out. Please give my regards to Agent Mulder." Mulder was sitting on the edge of the fountain with Scully's club sub in a bag beside him. His own sandwich was long gone. The session with Dr. Morrow had gone overtime. What did that mean? Scanning the crowds, his brows in a worried peak, he feared the worst. When he caught sight of her his insides lurched painfully. She was so important to him. Swinging along with a confident stride, her copper hair set on fire by the sun, she looked happy. When she saw him she flashed him a wide smile, and the relief he felt was beyond description. It was going to be okay. She was okay. He rose to meet her, and had difficulty keeping himself from hugging her. She had been crying. "Hi, Mulder. That my lunch?" "Yeah." He glanced behind him at the paper bag. "Yeah." Sitting down again he found himself uncharacteristically at a loss for words. Scully sat beside him, unwrapped her sandwich and started to eat. Mulder waited, loving every curve of her face, content just to sit in the sun and watch her. "Busy tonight?" she asked as she folded up the empty wrapper. He grinned. "I am now. You going to tell me what happened?" She smiled and looked away. "It's a little bit embarrassing. I'll tell you later. Maybe tomorrow." He just nodded. It was enough to know that she was all right. They walked back to the office side by side. *** Mulder's pace quickened when he saw the lights on in Frohicke's little house. She was there. He took the steps in two long strides, opened the door with his key and quietly closed it behind him. A mouth-watering smell and a classical nocturne wrapped round him. He stood still for a moment, consciously enjoying them both. This was what it felt like to come home. How long had it been since he had felt that way about any place that he had lived in? Too long. He checked the kitchen and the living room. Both empty. He moved into the short hall just in time to see Scully's bare back disappearing into one of the bedrooms, followed by the swish of a long silky skirt. He stopped and waited, listening to his heart thumping. He thought he recognised that garment. She came back out with a folded blanket in her arms and stopped short when she saw him, a smile of welcome lighting up her face. "Hi. I didn't hear you come in." Mulder could only stand and stare. She was wearing a long nightgown of cream coloured lace that left her freckled shoulders bare. Her hair was up, but little wayward tendrils had escaped to curve against her neck and cheeks. He let his eyes travel down her to where small pink toes peeked out from the bottom of the gown. Moving closer, he caught a hint of floral perfume. Her face was serious now, it's familiar, clean sculptured lines the perfect frame for her big blue eyes. She made him ache with her beauty. He took her face in one hand, knowing that she would be able to feel his trembling. Love and desire filled him to overflowing, and it was such a delicious pain that he was in no rush to move past it. "Hi, Tiger." His whisper was rough. He let his fingers slide lightly down her throat and across the swell of her breast just above the lace. She swallowed and clutched the blanket more closely, a delicate flush moving up her body, turning perfect marble to a warm living pink. He kissed her mouth softly. "Do you think we could lose the blanket?" She held it away to one side. There was nowhere handy to put it so she just dropped it, never taking her eyes away from him. He kissed her again, more roughly, and pulled her close. The fabric of the nightgown was thin. Firm, warm curves filled his hands and pressed against him. His erection throbbed in response, and he thought briefly of taking her right there against the hall wallpaper... but he bent and scooped her up into his arms. There was plenty of time to be civilised about this. "I smell something good in the kitchen." Her arms were wrapped around his neck; her nose pressed up against his cheek. He felt her nod. "Tortiere." "And are you the appetizer or the dessert?" Her arms tightened. "I suppose it would seem greedy to say both, please." Mulder chuckled. "I'll see what I can do." He carried her down the hall into the master bedroom, where the drapes were already drawn and the covers on the big bed pulled back. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ END OF PART 7 OF 8 (End of PG-13 part of story) comments to Eleanore COURTING THE TIGER 8/8 by Eleanore SPOILER... Based on elements from third season. RATING... Parts 1 to 7: PG 13 Part 8: NC 17 (for sexual content) WARNING... Scully/Mulder romance DISCLAIMER: The characters and situations of the television program "The X Files" are the creations and property of Chris Carter, Fox Broadcasting, and Ten-Thirteen Productions, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended. X-PHILES: You are welcome to re-post or otherwise distribute this story among other X-Philes, as long as you do so for free, and my name and e-mail address go with it as author. SUMMARY: This story comes after the third season episode "The War of the Coprophages" and also after my story "Tiger Lily". I do recommend that you read "Tiger Lily" first. Whereas "Tiger Lily" stayed fairly true to the characters as portrayed on the show, this story takes off into relationship territory. No X-File... a romance. Mulder and Scully take steps to keep their changing relationship a secret. Scully has an emotional problem dealing with their increased intimacy. Part 8 is erotica. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ COURTING THE TIGER 8/8 by Eleanore * NC 17 (for sexual content) * When he placed his hand against her face, she could feel him trembling, and her soul opened to him. Hungry eyes held her. Gentle fingers slid down her throat... left a glowing trail across her breast... awakened her own hunger. Strong arms went round her, lifted her. Words in a warm, crushed velvet voice. She answered... something... and he laughed as he carried her into the bedroom. The world had become a dreamlike place, soft focus and slow motion. He was the only thing that was real. He set her on her feet, but kept his arms around her. She undid his buttons and tugged his shirt out of his jeans, then moved behind him and pulled it down from his shoulders. The dim yellow lamplight turned his tanned skin to bronze... a beautifully muscled statue come to life. The sun freckles across his wide shoulders needed to be kissed. She stood on tiptoe to reach them, and once her face was against his skin she couldn't break away. Enthralled by the scented satin against her nose and lips, she kissed his back all over, running her hands lovingly over the hills and hollows. Nuzzling her way around one shoulder, she came back to his chest. He lifted her chin to bring her mouth to his, and it was good, but as soon as he released her she went back to kissing his front, stroking her face against his chest hair, caressing every inch of him with lips and hands... nose or cheek... gradually moving down. He wasn't wearing a belt. The stiff fabric at the metal button gave her trouble, so he reached down and undid it himself, and she pulled his jeans and boxer's down together, kneeling to remove his shoes and free his feet, one by one. Kissed her way back up his long thigh, tempted to stop briefly for a visit with one dusky ball, but continuing up to where she had left off at his navel. Kissed her way unhurriedly down his furry centerline, sliding her hands over his angular hips and around to cuddle his buns. Butted his erect penis aside to scrub her face on his hard flat stomach. Now she burrowed her nose into the hair of his private place, where the musky smell of him was strong. Stroked and teased his balls with her nose, still dropping little kisses everywhere, enjoying the course texture of the hair against her mouth, running her hands firmly up the sensitive insides of his thighs. She came to rest with her cheek pressed against the comforting solidity of his erection, her arms wrapped possessively around his legs, her need to be touching him satisfied... for the moment. He bent and helped her up, then slipped the straps of her gown down from her shoulders. The fabric fell to the floor with a silky whisper. No embarrassment or self consciousness... she wanted him to see her. Watched him boldly as he let his eyes travel down her curves to linger on her powder puff of auburn hair. He moved onto the bed, pulling her down beside him. A moment's confusion until she realised that he wanted her to lie face down. She felt very vulnerable with her back turned, even experiencing a fugitive tremor of fear when he moved over her, one knee on either side, but as soon as she felt his hands tenderly stroking her, all anxiety evaporated. Following her example, he started to kiss the skin of her back. It tickled terribly. Unable to stop herself, she jerked and squirmed, making them both laugh. He went back to massaging with his hands, and she quieted under his touch. He used his whole palm in firm strokes that were magical. What had been just skin a moment before, was set aglow with sensuality as he passed over it with his golden touch. His hands made her feel small and safe. They spoke of love... acceptance... patience. She felt very peaceful and unhurried. Almost as if she could go to sleep. She smiled, and opened her eyes. No, she'd better not do that. He was kissing her back again, and this time it didn't tickle because she was more relaxed. Even so, each kiss was a small exquisite thrill made up of anticipation, a tiny shock at contact, heat and caress. Gradually they became slower, more lingering, his face no longer breaking contact between kisses, but sliding softly over her skin. She knew that he was no longer controlling his movements, but was following his instincts... following his heart. She sighed blissfully and let her eyes close again. Her body was heavy, inert. Moving would be too much effort. So much better to lie quietly and let his love flow over her. The occasional nudge from his penis, reminded her that, as good as this felt, it was just the overture. The kisses travelled slowly down, past her waist, dallied at the base of her spine, then down across the soft fullness of her bottom. She felt a momentary tension at the invasion of this most taboo part of her body, but it was soon washed away in the flood of warmth she felt for him. He loved all of her, and she would give him no less. She seemed to have lost the will to object even if she had wanted to. Her body was totally limp, melted to a small puddle of greedy nerve endings, completely at his mercy. He turned her over as easily as if she were a rag doll, the display of masculine strength and power arousing her further. She was ready. She wanted him now. He drew one of her knees up and to the side, exposing the tender inner thigh, and proceeded to kiss it in the same leisurely way as he had travelled down her back. She arched luxuriously, hoping every moment to feel his face in her fur, but he would not be hurried. Shameless, she drew up her other knee, spreading her legs, knowing that he could see her, smell her. When he moved across to her other leg, she gave a sobbing laugh of frustration. "Bastard," she breathed, her hands clutching hungrily at the air. He chuckled, and calmly... tenderly... straightened each leg, placed his hand firmly over her red gold mound for a moment, then slid up beside her, sprinkling a few kisses along her stomach and between her breasts as he came. "We'll get to that in good time," he murmured. His erection was pulsing reflexively against her leg, but she couldn't wait. Capturing his hand, she held it to her face, pressing kisses into his palm. She had to have some part of him inside her. Taking two fingers into her mouth, she played her tongue against them... lingeringly, wetly, over and around and in between... slipping them out only to enjoy taking them in again. They were hard and honey sweet. Though not quite ready to relinquish them, she allowed him to pull his hand away. He needed his arms to support his weight as he moved carefully up and over her. Now her face was against his shoulder, and she was practically buried by his much larger body. The warm nudging was between her thighs. He paused again, kissing her face, and she waited for it. When she felt him coaxing her knees apart she took her revenge, clamping her legs together and squirming up and away from him. He gave a bark of fiendish laughter and mercilessly pinned her down, forcing her legs up and apart until she had to give in or suffer injury. The moment of surrender... sweet, so sweet... it made her swoon... When he finally slid into her she wanted to cry with relief. She closed her eyes. Why had they waited so long? They should have been sharing this long ago. The tears squeezed out, and he was instantly still. A second later she was surprised by the silky stroke of his tongue. He was licking the tears from her cheeks, and doing it with such seriousness and care that she smiled. Reassured, he started to move inside her. Slowly, deliberately, he made each stroke count, sometimes grinding against her when he was deep inside, sometimes pulling all the way out. She wasn't sure if it was accidental or on purpose, but the pushing and sliding of the super-heated shaft trying to find its way back in drove her wild with pleasure. Twice he had to stop to regain control, making tortured sighing sounds that thrilled her. While they were motionless, she was exquisitely aware of their intimate contact in that dark, moist place. Delicate and ephemeral waves of pure joy flickered through her lower body. Now he was moving with more urgency. She rubbed her face against his shoulder, letting his warm damp skin drag across her swollen and sensitive lips... and knew it was coming. She gave herself up to it. Let herself relax even further. Let her legs fall apart even wider. He gasped in response, and she revelled in her power... knew it was coming. She thought only about the feel of his body against hers. Visualized what she could not see... the wet tangling of her hair with his as he repeatedly invaded her, the blind pumping of the velvety tip across the mouth of her womb. She heard herself panting, felt the fire starting to eat it's way along her nerves. He did not change his rhythm. Inexorably, the fire danced closer as along a slow fuse. A musical moaning was being wrung from her. She wanted it... but she also wanted this wonderfully disturbing and fevered feeling of anticipation to last forever. Too late... too late. Slow fuse no longer, but a brilliant flame racing towards her along a taught wire. Sheet lightening flashing across her nerves, hot and white, a violent explosion of liquid fire at her core... temporarily fusing all her circuits... leaving her suspended in space completely helpless for a few split seconds of blind rapture. Her fingers pressed hard into his flesh as she reverberated with the aftershocks. She let out a sharp exclamation and he stopped moving. A moment, clenched and quivering... then she relaxed, gasping for air. Her hands fluttered urgently against his back, trying to tell him by pressure and movement what she could not put into words. She felt him kissing her face, opened her eyes to see him smiling at her. There was no need to tell him. He started to move again. Heavenly sensations. She wished she could slow them down, examine them, enjoy them at a more leisurely pace, but the luscious warm waves were not something that could be captured or held back. Too soon, a second explosion... more gradual, more piercingly beautiful... released multiple cascades of bright, hot sun-yellow throughout her being. Willingly helpless in their power, she sang out so that he might share a little in her ecstasy. He paused again, his desperate, sighing moan telling her that this next one would be for him. She basked in the solar wind for a moment more, then started the movement herself. She moved with him at first, then changed her rhythm to move against him. His breathing told her that he was rapidly losing control, and she made soft noises of encouragement, giving him permission to be selfish. Reaching down she grabbed his buttocks and urged him deeper, an image in her mind of a flower completely unfolding as she relaxed every fibre and opened herself totally to him. For a few seconds it was all she could do to cope with the physical turbulence as he lost it altogether and drove hard into her. His passion fed her own... she no longer remembered or cared who and where they were... all that mattered was that he was male and she was female, and she knew with primal joy that this was what they were meant to do. He made a great deal of agonized noise. Happiness for him flooded through her and she was rewarded with a third and sublimely satisfying implosion, that sent molten gold searing up the backs of her legs and caused achingly delicious contractions of her womb. They came to a shuddering stop and clung to each other, not quite laughing, not quite crying, high on the world's oldest drug. He kissed her face and her hair, again and again. She wrapped her legs around him and stroked his back, over and over. Gradually they relaxed from euphoria into peace. She felt his balls drop to nestle confidingly against her. Her eyes drifted around the room... its mundane appearance given temporary beauty by the amber light and her contentment. Never could two people be closer than this. She wished that the amber could thicken and hold this glowing, perfect moment forever. He got heavier and heavier. She bore his weight gladly as long as she could, but eventually the need for oxygen forced her to make a movement. Immediately alert and contrite, he slid off to one side of her and their connection was broken. She felt a pang of loss, but comforted herself with the knowledge that there would be many more times. They kissed and held hands and smiled at one another... their relationship subtly and permanently changed. They had gone willingly together, tripping out into the ether, and had returned with their molecules slightly rearranged. Mulder reached down and pulled up the covers. Scully gave his mouth one last tender kiss and rolled over within his arms so that they were lying spoons. She could feel the sticky wetness between her legs and where his resting penis lay against her back. Fastidious though she was, she knew that she would wash away the evidence of his body's love for hers with some reluctance. She smiled and his arms tightened briefly around her. She had just remembered the tortiere. The oven was only on warm, but the meat pie and the baked potatoes would be dried out and inedible by the time they woke up. A fleeting frown. She was pretty sure she remembered a smoke detector and a fire extinguisher. Looked like toast and peanut butter for dinner tonight. If they were still hungry, there was always dessert. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ END OF STORY comments to Eleanore