*********************************************************************
  This author's e-mail address has changed to: xanaduxf@yahoo.com
*********************************************************************

**WARNING! NC-17 CONTENT AHEAD!**
**DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDERAGE OR OFFENDED BY SEXUAL CONTENT**

***DISCLAIMER***: All "X-Files" elements and references
in this story belong to Fox Broadcasting, Chris Carter,
and 1013 Productions, and I am making no money from it.
Do not archive or link to this story without permission.

==========

After Hours
by shannono
shannono@iname.com


Story, Erotica

Rated NC-17

No spoilers

Content warning: Smut. Adults only, please.

Author's notes: A departure for me. Call it an experiment. I do
plan at least one sequel, likely more, so feedback is greatly 
appreciated.

Thanks: To Stacey, for editing.

==========
After Hours: Water
by shannono


Scully managed on the third try to slide the infernal key card into 
the slot in her door and get the damn green light to blink at her. 
Letting out an exhausted sigh, she shoved the handle down and pushed
with all her weight, her eyes closing in relief as the door moved.

She used up most of the rest of her strength in pushing the door firmly
shut, then burned the rest on the three steps over to the bed, tossing 
her still-damp trench coat in the general direction of a chair as she 
moved.

Flopping back across the mattress, her legs hanging off the edge, she 
lay there limp against the bedspread, staring unseeing at the white 
stucco ceiling above her head.

God, what a day, her mind offered, and her mouth twisted into a wan
smile at the thought. *That* was the understatement of the year.

She couldn't remember being so tired. Since her *lovely* 4:37 a.m.
wakeup call from her ever-hyper partner, she'd done two autopsies;
traipsed through a muddy crime scene in a cold drizzle of rain that
seemed to follow her everywhere these days; helped interrogate two
suspects and question a half-dozen witnesses; and squeezed in four
cups of coffee and a single "meal," composed of two regular McDonald's
hamburgers and a vanilla milkshake, eaten around midafternoon in
the passenger seat of Ford Taurus number eight thousand and four.

The only good news, other than the fact that the day was over, was 
that one of the suspects had finally confessed, and that the evidence
seemed to corroborate his version of events. An actual closed case, 
for once.

And it only took one eighteen-hour day from hell to accomplish it.

The ten minute rest on the bed had refreshed her just enough to allow
her to think about getting ready for bed for real. She had a feeling, 
though, that even as worn out as she was, sleep would be a long time 
coming. She was still too keyed up, too much adrenalin still rushing 
through her body to allow her to sleep.

But she was certainly willing to give it a try.

She kicked her shoes off haphazardly, hearing them clonk against the 
wall, then lifted one hand to wrestle open the button on the suit 
jacket she still wore.

Just as a knock sounded at the door.

Oh, boy, she thought, weary resignation welling up in her blood like
a fountain. Three guesses who *that* is ...

She knew he'd keep knocking until she answered, or panic and use the
extra key she'd given him, as she normally did. They very rarely 
invaded each others' privacy like that, but Mulder's sense of 
foreboding knew no bounds.

"Just a minute," she called out, levering one arm under her and 
pushing up to a sitting position. Proud of her progress, she then
used both hands to help lift herself to her feet, standing perfectly
still for a few moments to allow the swimming of her head to ebb 
before heading for the door.

She checked the peephole just in time for him to knock again, the 
pounding sending reverberations through the door and into her right
cheekbone, setting up a new pattern of throbbing inside her head.

Sighing, she turned the handle and pulled the door open to reveal 
Mulder, looking nearly as worn out as she as he leaned against the
doorframe. Dark smudges stood out starkly under his reddened eyes,
and his wrinkled suit seemed to sag as much as his body. His tie 
was loosened, his shirt half untucked, and his hair looked as if 
a family of rats had moved in and made themselves comfortable.

"You look as bad as I feel," she said, leaning as heavily against 
the door as he was against the frame. "Tell me you're not here with
bad news. I don't think I could deal with another minute of this 
case."

One corner of his mouth lifted in a weary half-grin. "No news at 
all," he said tiredly. "As far as I know, this is one case that's
sealed up tight."

Scully's eyes closed in relief. "Thank God," she murmured, before 
opening her eyes again and focusing on him. "So what do you want?"

She knew she wasn't sounding very friendly, and she certainly didn't
want to start an argument -- neither of them was up for that. But 
Mulder seemed to understand.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm too wired to go right to 
sleep," he said. "So I had an idea."

Scully's eyes narrowed. "Why am I suddenly afraid to ask?" she said.

Mulder chuckled softly, shaking his head. "You brought a swimsuit,
didn't you, Scully?" he asked.

She lifted an eyebrow. "Now I'm *really* afraid to ask," she replied.

Mulder tilted his head to one side. "I just thought you might like to
try out what I just discovered -- the hotel has a hot tub," he said.
"It'd probably help us wind down enough to sleep."

Scully studied his face for a moment. He really did seem sincere, and
in his current state of exhaustion, she doubted he'd be up to much 
mischief. Not that she wouldn't go along if he was, but she knew for
a fact *she* wasn't up for it.

Not tonight, anyway.

So she shrugged in agreement. "Sure, sounds like a good a idea," she 
said. "Just give me a few minutes to change."

Mulder grinned. "Well, I've got to change too, you know," he teased, 
lifting himself from the doorframe and digging in one pocket for his
room key. "I wasn't planning on subjecting my one remaining Armani 
to a dose of hot chlorinated water."

Scully found herself returning the smile. "Okay," she said. "Ten 
minutes?"

"See you then."

Scully shut the door, leaning her forehead against it for a few 
seconds. The hot tub did sound good, and she knew it'd help her 
get to sleep a lot faster than she would otherwise. But first, she
had to gather enough energy to get changed into her swimsuit.

Her Donna Karan wouldn't think much of the chlorine, either.

==========

Ten minutes later, another knock sounded, and Scully finished pulling
on the long green t-shirt she was using as a coverup before heading to
open the door again. Mulder was in shorts and a half-buttoned blue 
shirt, sneakers on his feet and a hotel towel tossed over his shoulder.

"Ready?" he asked.

She nodded. "Let me grab a towel," she said, turning and heading into
the small bathroom next to the door. She pulled the towel from the 
rack, then crossed back into the main room and stuffing it in the 
small tote bag that already held her room key, badge and gun. She 
slipped her feet into the sandals she'd left by the bed, then turned
back to the door to find Mulder with his hand on the door handle, 
propping it open with his body, his head tipped against the surface
and his eyes closed.

"Mulder?" she said gently, and his eyes popped open to meet hers.

"Mmmm," he replied, then repeated, "Ready?"

"Are you sure you're up for this, Mulder?" she asked, growing a 
little concerned. She certainly didn't need him falling asleep and
starting to drown in a hot tub. Not a likely scenario, but knowing
Mulder ...

He shook his head sharply, as if throwing off cobwebs, and shot her
a grin. "Yeah, I'm okay," he said. "But let's get going before we 
fall over, 'kay?"

She smiled slightly and nodded, picking up her tote bag before 
preceding him out the door. She turned back to watch him pull the
door firmly shut, and then he stepped up behind her, his hand 
falling against her lower back as he nodded to her right.

"It's down next to the pool," he said, and they headed in that 
direction.

==========

The pool area was deserted, which didn't surprise Scully at nearly
11 p.m. The signs all read "swim at your own risk" and other such
dire warnings, and one listed pool hours as "6 a.m. to 10 p.m." But
since nothing specified hours for the hot tub, and since the water
still bubbled and frothed on its surface, she didn't even bother to
raise an objection.

Besides, if anyone said anything, they could always fall back on 
their FBI badges. She wasn't above the blatant misuse of her
credentials to secure the use of a hot tub after hours. With the
day she'd had, she wasn't going to let *anything* stand in her way.

She reached into her tote bag and pulled out the towel, draping it
over a nearby chair before placing the bag a couple of feet away 
from the edge of the tub. She toed off her sandals and left them 
next to the bag, then reached for the hem of her t-shirt and pulled
it over her head, dropping it on top of the bag.

She turned back toward the tub -- just in time to see Mulder pull 
off his own shirt and toss it on top of his shoes. She realized 
then that the shorts were actually swim trunks, and some part of
her was vaguely disappointed. She knew he wore a Speedo when he 
swam laps, but she supposed he really didn't need the sleek suit
for sitting still in a hot tub.

Shaking off her thoughts, she stepped over to the edge of the 
tub and started down the stairs into the warm water, the bubbles
tickling her legs as she descended. She sighed as the heat 
surrounded her body, and she turned to lower herself onto the
seating ledge.

The water covered her nearly to her shoulders, and she closed her 
eyes, scooting forward just a bit so the water lapped along her 
neck. She tilted her head back against the top edge of the tub, 
feeling her tense muscles begin to relax.

A sudden sound prompted her to open her eyes, and she realized 
Mulder was joining her. He sat down directly across from her, 
then slid down as she had, bringing his long legs up to rest on
the seat next to her.

They sat without speaking, the only sounds coming in the bubbling
of the water and their own breathing, which to Scully seemed 
unnaturally loud.

Mulder finally spoke, sort of. "Mmmmm," he let out, a sound that
sent shivers down Scully's spine, for reasons she'd rather not 
consider. "This was exactly what I needed," he continued, his 
voice low and gravelly from exhaustion.

Or something else entirely, Scully's mind piped up, but she made
a valiant effort to ignore it.

She was beginning to regret her decision to accompany Mulder for
a soak. She was tired, and when she got tired, her carefully 
constructed resolve to keep her hands off him tended to slip.
That was the real reason she tried to avoid spending time with
him during off-hours. She'd like to do that, but she needed the
time alone to regroup and reinforce her barriers.

Lately, though, nothing seemed to be working. No matter how hard 
she tried, he kept working his way in around the edges, to the 
point that she was beginning to think giving in was the only 
option left.

Now, reclining here with warm water caressing her skin and Mulder's
leg brushing up against hers, it was all she could do to keep from
gliding across and insinuating herself onto his lap. Even if both
of them were too tired to follow through on much of anything.

She sighed softly, not quite realizing at first what a forlorn 
sound it was. By the time she did, he was already beside her, 
bending much too close for her comfort. "Scully?" he said gently,
concern laced through his voice. "Are you okay?"

Every muscle in her body tightened as his nearness registered, and
she clenched her fists in a last-ditch effort to keep from reaching
for him. "Yeah," she squeezed out between half-clenched teeth. 
"Just ... tired."

She didn't dare open her eyes to look at him, not when he was so 
close and she was so on edge.

And then his hands were on her, pushing her away from the edge of
the tub. Her eyes flew open in alarm, but she felt his large hand
splayed against her back and heard his soft whisper in her ear. 
"Shhhh," he said. "Let me take care of you."

She couldn't resist him, not when he was touching her so tenderly
and she was so sensitive to him. He settled in behind her, where
she'd been setting, then drew her head onto his shoulder, his hand
continuing to support her as her body floated gently just below 
the water's surface.

Her eyes fell shut again as his free hand came up to knead the 
tense muscles at the base of her neck, and she exhaled shakily,
tremors running down her arms and legs. Despite her fatigue, 
every nerve ending in her body was beginning to tingle.

God, what is he doing to me? she thought. He was barely touching
her, just his fingertips supporting the center of her back and 
rubbing against the back of her neck. But that small contact was
enough to make her ache for his touch everywhere, and burn for it
in a few places.

Somewhere in the haze blanketing her mind, she knew what was coming
if she didn't pull away from him now. He was working his way past 
her last defenses, seemingly with no effort at all, and if he made
any attempt to proposition her tonight, there'd be no way she could
refuse him.

But for now, at least, he seemed content to focus on her. His 
hands drifted only slightly, allowing him to switch one for the
other under her back so he could reach for and massage the other
side of her shoulder. She felt the tension leaving her in a rush,
and suddenly she could barely stay awake.

Somehow, he sensed her tumble off the edge of wakefulness, and 
he carefully lowered his supportive hand, allowing her to drift
down through the water until she rested against his knees. Gently,
he slid his arms across her back and under her legs, and he lifted
her into his arms, carrying her out of the tub and setting her on
the nearest deck chair.

She stirred slightly as he set her down, and he shushed her 
tenderly before reaching for her towel and gently rubbing away
some of the wetness. He set the towel aside and grabbed her t-
shirt, easing her arms and head through the holes and pulling the
shirt down to cover her.

He turned away just long enough to dry himself a bit, slip on his
own shirt, and stuff her sandals and their towels into her bag. 
Almost as an afterthought, he pulled her room key out and kept it
in one hand, then slung the bag over one shoulder as he he came 
back to her and picked her up again.

She was no more alert than before, but she did manage to slide
her arm around his shoulders and help him balance her slight 
weight. Her other arm draped across her stomach, her fingers 
brushing the front of his shirt, and he smiled briefly down 
at her before heading back toward her room.

==========

Scully stirred as Mulder stopped walking. She nuzzled against 
his shoulder, barely registering his sharp intake of breath 
and the shudder that went through him.

He managed to open the door and move inside without dropping 
her or slamming her head or other body parts against the 
doorframe, and he lowered her onto the bed before dropping
the tote bag on the floor. Leaning to her ear, he whispered,
"I'll be right back," getting a soft sigh and smile in response.

Smiling himself, he walked into the bathroom and started the
water running for a shower. She probably hadn't even thought
about washing off the chlorine, but he knew if she tried to
sleep now, she'd be sure to wake up uncomfortable and itchy.
So he was going to get them both washed off before getting 
her to bed.

The shower didn't have a tub, or he'd probably have drawn her
a bath. But it was a wide stall with a molded-in seat along 
one side, so there would be enough room for him to help her 
wash off. He didn't think she could handle even that in the 
state she was in.

He adjusted the water and pulled the shower door shut before
heading back for her, taking off his shirt again and tossing
it across the nearest chair. Gently, he lifted her from the 
mattress and worked her t-shirt off again, then picked her
up and took her into the bathroom.

Scully roused slightly as her feet hit the cool tile floor, 
and she realized Mulder was holding her with one arm as he 
pulled the shower door open. "Mulder?" she managed, her voice
scratchy with sleep.

He turned to look down at her half-open eyes. "Hey, sleepyhead,"
he whispered. "I'm just gonna get all that chlorine off so you
can sleep, okay?"

She frowned slightly, but then her face softened again as she
realized what he meant. She nodded. "'Kay," she murmured.

He smiled again and helped her step into the shower enclosure,
then followed and pulled the door closed behind him. She was 
still leaning against him heavily, and he moved far enough 
toward the spray that the warm water fell over them both.

"Mmmm." He wasn't sure which of them had let out the low moan,
but it didn't seem to matter. His body, which had been in a 
state of semi-arousal ever since he'd caught sight of Scully
in her swimsuit, sprang to fully-alert status almost instantly,
and he cursed his hormones. He was trying valiantly to keep 
this innocent, a little pampering for his best friend, but he
couldn't help getting turned on by it.

But then she squirmed against him, shifting enough that his 
supporting hand brushed the side of her breast, and let out 
another moan, this one stronger than the last.

Maybe he wasn't the only one turned on by it.

He stood indecisively for a few moments. She was so far gone
that he knew he couldn't take advantage of her. But he could
certainly carry his pampering a little farther than he'd 
planned, as long as she didn't put up any protests.

They could always pretend it had never happened, his tired
mind rationalized. They were experts at that, anyway.

Reaching forward, Mulder adjusted the shower spray to a light
massage setting and redirected it so it hit a few inches below
the outer edge of the seat. Then he lowered himself into the
seat, which turned out to be just the right height for what
he had in mind.

He turned Scully around so the water massage hit her lower 
back, and she let out another low moan. He bit his bottom 
lip against the ache in his crotch, then lifted his hands 
to her shoulders and started to slide her swimsuit straps
down.

Scully stiffened, but before she could react further, he 
whispered, "Shh, Scully, it's okay. Just let me do this for
you. Trust me. Please."

She paused, barely breathing, then brought one hand up to rest
in the center of his chest. Her eyes still closed, she nodded
once.

Encouraged, Mulder returned to his task, carefully moving her 
suit down her body and over her hips. He deliberately didn't 
look at her, instead concentrating on lifting her feet out of
the legs and moving the suit to a far corner of the shower 
stall.

He lifted his hands, again without looking, and turned her 
away from him again, then pulled her back against his legs.
He wrapped one arm low across her stomach, lifting her to sit
on his thighs, then raised his knees between her thighs, 
drawing her legs apart. 

Then he slid his hips forward an inch, and she gasped.

Perfect.

The water hit her directly between her legs, just where he'd
planned. The pressure was strong enough that she was writhing
already in his lap, her hands coming down to dig fingernail 
prints into the sides of his thighs, the only part of him she
could realistically reach from her position. He just barely 
managed to keep her from touching his erection; she wasn't 
going to last long, but this was going to be hard enough for
him as it was, and any direct stimulation was sure to drive 
him over the edge.

He brought his free hand up to the triangle of hair between
her legs, avoiding the water spray while using his fingers
to spread her further open. She bucked her hips up toward 
the water, low moans erupting from her throat, and her head
fell back onto his shoulder.

She was almost there already, he knew, her sensitivity 
heightened by fatigue. He moved his legs up and down 
slightly, the action serving to vary the angle of the 
water against her. She gasped and groaned, then jerked her
hips up again. A guttural moan erupted from her throat,
and she convulsed against him, her whole body shaking from
the force of her orgasm.

He held her in place a moment longer before relaxing, moving
her away from the spray. Her ragged gasps gradually eased, 
and she lay limp once again, unable or unwilling to shift 
off of him.

Moving gingerly, he leaned forward to turn the water off, 
then lifted her carefully and stepped out of the shower. 
He lowered her to rest her feet on the floor, then reached
for a clean towel and began drying her off with one hand.

The angle was awkward, but he managed to dry her without 
looking directly at her. She may have just finished coming
in his arms, but he wanted to allow her to keep some part
of herself back, until she was fully alert and able to give
it to him willingly.

He gave himself a quick once-over with the towel as well, 
then carried her back into the room. He sat her down on the
edge of the bed, then maneuvered the covers down and slipped
her between the sheets, tucking them around her shoulders.

She gave a soft sigh as he finished, then returned to the 
deep breathing he knew signaled sleep. He smiled softly at
the picture she made, her cheeks still flushed from her 
climax and her expression peaceful, and he lowered his face
to brush a kiss across her forehead.

"Goodnight, Scully," he whispered against her skin. She 
murmured in her sleep something that sounded like it could
have been his name, and he found himself still smiling as
he turned out the light and headed for his own room.