From: Kelly Date: Sun, 07 May 2000 02:49:18 -0400 Subject: After Images Source: direct Title: After Images Author: Aricia Rating: NC-17 Keywords: AU, MSR, M/M implied Summary: What happens when *The X-Files* shuts down for the night (NOT "real people" fic!) Spoilers: Reference made to Monday Disclaimer: These characters are owned by 1013 and Fox. No infringement or profit is intended Authors Notes: Thank you very much to everyone who helped me with the scientific and filming information for this story. Special thanks to The Squirrel's Nest at PA X-Files. You will be missed. Any errors are mine. BTW, I know afterimage is one word, but I liked the way it looked better as two, and I liked the dual meaning present that way. My other stories can be found at http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Nebula/5362/ksmutpg.html Ok to archive at Gossamer and Ephemeral. All others please ask first. A thousand thanks and a dozen Krispy Kreme doughnuts hot from the oven to Dasha for her advice and encouragement. After Images by Aricia August 9, 1999 20th Century Fox Studios The X-Files Soundstage Burbank, CA "Awwww, man. These fourteen hour days are killin' me!" "The first few days are always the hardest. You'll get used to it again soon." "Somehow that doesn't make me feel better." They turned off the last of the lights and left, the door echoing as it slammed shut. The silence settled in the huge building. On an apartment set, neon green lights shimmered above a black leather couch like drunken fireflies, slowly coalescing into the shape of a man in his late thirties. He stood, turning on a lamp on the desk and peered into the darkness. "Scully?" He briefly heard the sound of running footsteps before the impact sent him crashing back towards the couch. His heel caught the desk chair and overturned it on his way down, his back hitting the leather seat with enough force to knock the wind out of him as he slid to the floor. He frantically kicked out with his foot, finally hitting the coffee table and sending it, and the magazines, videos, and files on it, crashing down. Now he had enough room to move. A thousand hands and mouths crawled over his skin, caressing him, carving out universes of touch and taste, epochs of sensation. *Scully.* He grabbed her head and turned it towards his, devouring her mouth, wanting to consumeher from the inside out. Scully. She tasted of everything clean and bright. She tasted like truth. He gasped into the kiss as she ground her crotch into his erection, her skirt inching ever higher as she shifted on her knees for better traction. Teeth and tongues met and bit, attacking in their frenzy. He wasn't sure whose blood he was tasting. Skin. He had to have skin. He ripped open her blouse, buttons castaneting across the hardwood floor. She unhooked her bra, and he feverishly stroked her, branding his fingerprints into her flesh. He pulled away from her molten mouth with an audible pop, latching onto her breast as if his life depended on it. Because at that moment in time it did. Sucking her swollen coral nipple was life. Primitive and raw, a human being's first instinct. "Mulder. . . ." Her tongue circled his ear, pulling on the lobe before sliding down his neck, laying him open to every blazing sensation. Her fingers raked under his t-shirt, trailing fire across his chest, lava pooling on his nipples, never, ever stopping her hip's torturous rhythm against him. His cock throbbed, painfully hard. So long. It had been so long without her. Without life. His hand shook with need as he undid his fly. Guiding his cock out, he shoved her panties to the side, lifting her up and setting her down on top of him. Fusion, he thought with the few brain cells still online, groaning as her tight heat embraced him. He looked directly into her eyes for the first time since their reunion. An incandescent blue. The center of the flame was always the hottest part. He felt real only when he was with her, only in these few hours they had together. She lifted slightly and started riding him, rocking just so on each down stroke. He whimpered in time with her hips at the incredible feeling surrounding him. How had he survived without this for three months? "Love, Scuuulllllly. . . ." "Hmmm, yeah, Mulder. Fuck, you feel so good!" She pumped faster and faster, feral in her desire to merge with him, clawing at his shoulders and chest. He couldn't decide what to look at - her breasts shiny with sweat bobbing in front of him, or the miraculous sight of his glistening shaft becoming a part of her. Her sex gripped him sending incendiary sparks along his nerves. He could feel the pressure building up, pulsing through his body, ready to explode. Sucking in his breath, he tensed trying desperately to hold back as she savagely thrust against him. He worked his fingers against her clit hoping she was anywhere near as close to coming as he was. "Yes. Oooooooo. Don't stop, don't stop!" She screamed her release, and he let loose a roar of his own as he erupted in white-hot pleasure. Holding her against him, their panting breaths slowed to something approaching normal. He felt like the witch at the end of The Wizard of Oz. Well, except for the fact that his chest, and especially the top of his left shoulder, burned like hell. In almost the exact spot as the bite mark on her left shoulder in fact. He knew they'd have his and her bruises on their thighs too, all though in different places, not to mention the ones he'd probably left on her hips and ass. He'd wondered if he'd feel guilty about those later. She leaned back and looked up at him mock innocently, asking, "Hi. How have you been?" in the same tone she would use on a colleague at a Pathology seminar. He stared at her a moment before he snorted and pulled her back to his chest. "Lonely." x x x "At least we didn't break anything this time. And no fish died," she said. "Yet." He couldn't stop looking at her, detailing every aspect against the memory of the last time he'd seen her. They'd left their clothes among the mess in the living room set and moved to his bedroom, the new one from Biogenesis. She was curled up against him, resting her head on his shoulder. "What are you smiling about?" "You mean other than the fact that we're together again? I was thinking about when we broke the waterbed. They just don't build things here the way they did in Vancouver." "Mulder, I think, you, me, Walter, and Alex, making love together would break a water bed anywhere." "I expected them to be here today. I've missed them." "Me too." "Missed having them inside me." "Me too," she chuckled. "I heard HER say they're filming out of order. They'll be here next week." He nodded. "At least the accident with the water bed inspired a good episode." He remembered in fond, vivid detail exactly what caused that leak. "I had to watch you die," she whispered, burrowing her face into his chest, her voice catching on the last word. "I don't call that a good episode." "I came back. I'm here, Scully." He held her closer, circling his hand slowly on her naked back in reassurance. She looked up at him, tears turning her eyes a lambent blue. "I missed the others, Mulder, but you . . . . Being without you causes a never-ending pain, this serrated bleeding hole, like part of my soul has been stolen." Twining their fingers together over his heart, she spoke softly, "I love you so much. I, . . . there aren't words." He wanted to tell her again how much he loved her too, how much he needed her, but the words wouldn't get past the ache and awe in his throat. "I realize we have this season and the movies, but it could be a year after the finale before they start shooting the film . . . ." A year's wait alone in that icy blankness, with only a memory of her to warm him. He hugged her fiercely, terrified at just the thought of the separation. He'd already decided not to tell her what he heard HIM say about the lawsuit and the Creator. There wasn't anything either of them could do about it anyway, and he would worry enough for the both of them. "How long does it take television signals to travel through space, Scully?" "What?" "I know that TV and radio signals go out into space. About how far would they get in seven years?" She settled her leg over his thigh, understanding what he was asking now. "The speed of light in a vacuum is 186,000 miles per second. Uh, in seven years it would travel approximately 40.6 trillion miles." "Past Alpha Centauri then. Hmm . . .isn't there a star in Leo that distance?" "Sorry, I don't happen to have a star chart on me at the moment." "I think about it sometimes. Wondering if life out there somewhere, *real* life, will see images of us." He turned to look at her directly. "I will love you as long as the universe exists, Scully. As long as those signals travel through space. That will never change, whether we're together or not." They kissed tenderly, tasting each other's tears as they joined again, expressing with their bodies what they could never fully express with words. x x x In the morning the door was unlocked, and the first people stepped through as they yawned, ready to get back to work. No one noticed the twin group of flickering, green lights fading out over the unmade bed. End I did not write this. I'm posting it for a friend. I'll be happy to pass along any comments to her at kelly37421@mindspring.com