Date: Fri, 5 Feb 1999 20:13:52 EST
Subject: [EMXC Fwd] "Basic Urges" 1/3 by Gerry Hill

January 16, 1999

Disclaimer: This story is based on the characters and
situations created by Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen Productions
and Fox Broadcasting.  As such, the characters of Fox
Mulder, Dana Scully, AD Skinner, the Lone Gunmen, etc.
are the property of those entities and are used without
permission, although no copyright infringement is intended.
The following work is for the distribution and entertainment
of fanfic members only.  Any further distribution of this
work without the author's consent is in violation of
international law.

Thanks: To Jo-Ann Lassiter, whose suggestions improved
this story immeasurably, and to Helen Wills, who pointed
out a couple of Mulder actions which were way out of
character.  My thanks to them and to a lot of other friends
who constantly give me the encouragement I need to finish
and to post my stories.

Spoiler Warning:  Up through "The Beginning," including
the movie "Fight the Future."

Rating: R (sex)

Content Warning:  MSR (That's pretty much all it is, too,
so be warned if you don't think they should be together that
way)

Classification:  SRH

Summary:  Could love conquer all?  Yeah, right!  We're
                  talking Mulder and Scully, here...
********************

BASIC URGES   (1/3)
by Gerry Hill   (fox42@ix.netcom.com)

Friday, October 23, 1998, 4:45 PM
Basement, Hoover Building


"Do you have a date tonight?" she casually asked her
partner as she put a file back into the top drawer of the
cabinet.

"Yeah, with my right hand," he muttered, but Scully's sharp
ears caught what he had said.

"Mulder!" she exclaimed, turning to face him with a
disapproving frown.

A little embarrassed that she had heard his admittedly
uncalled-for comment, he countered with, "Well, what can I
say?  I'm a guy."

Feeling an unaccustomed contrariness, he rose to his feet
and moved close to where she was standing at the file
cabinet.  Leaning into her space, he said, "It's really too
bad, Scully, that you don't see me as a man - as a male
animal.  Instead, I'm just a government-issued partner, and
not a very acceptable one, at that."

She blinked.  He could see the well-oiled wheels rotating at
top speed:  Is he coming on to me, insulting me, or just
playing another Mulder-game?  He was beginning to have
second thoughts, and considered backing off to give her
some room, but quickly vetoed that idea.   He'd been
wanting to air this particular observation for some time
now.

Sitting back down in his chair and propping his feet up on
the desk, he looked at her from his deliberately
psychologically inferior position and commented, "You
have the stereotypical male role in our partnership, Scully, if
you haven't noticed.  Hell, you're Annie Oakley with that
Sig Sauer of yours, and you often take the lead in dangerous
situations.  You've literally hauled my ass out of trouble
countless times.  You've beaten the crap out of men twice
your size.  Skinner looks to you for the final word on
whether I'm feeding him a load of bullshit in my reports or
not, even though I'm the senior agent on this team."

He would have gone on with the list, but Scully had moved
to stand next to him, her brow furrowed with concern.  Or
maybe she was pissed off at him again - it was sometimes
hard to tell.

"Wait a minute, Mulder.  How did we go from you jerking
off, to me being some kind of Superman in drag?"

He grinned up at her and chose the first part of her
statement as his next topic.

"I may, um, indulge on occasion, but what about you?"  His
eyes challenged her to answer.

"What are you doing?" she finally managed to say, after a
long pause.

"Returning to the first topic, as you indicated that we
should," he answered innocently.

There was a definite glare of warning in her expression, but
he didn't let it deter him.

"Well, do you?"

Still no answer; just a deepening of her scowl.

He took a breath, briefly debating whether to get in any
deeper, but the temptation was too strong.

"You're an attractive woman, yet you don't socialize much
more than I do.  I'll bet that *your* date this weekend is
with your vibrator."

He steepled his fingers and tapped them against his lips,
eyes cast up to hers, wondering if he'd gone too far this
time.  He was uncharacteristically prying into her private
life, which had always been verboten to him.  They had
carefully stuck to safe subjects up until now, when this wild
hair had appeared up his ass from nowhere.

She was very still for a few seconds, and then whispered,
"How dare you?"  Her voice increased slightly in volume to
repeat, "How *dare* you?!   Even if I owned a vib..."

His chuckle interrupted her, and he said, "Of course you do.
I've seen it."  Then his brain caught up with his mouth, and
all he could think was, 'Ooops.'

Her eyes narrowed.  She grated, "What?"

Setting his deathwish control on "high," Mulder said, "Sure.
You take it on our trips.  That time when you were stuck in
the autopsy bay in Little Rock for 12 hours, I unpacked
your luggage for you.  I found it and put it into a drawer by
the bed in your motel room.  You were so tired when you
finally finished the autopsies, you probably didn't remember
I had unpacked for you.  And then another time I saw it..."

"Mulder!"

He stopped talking and looked questioningly at her, finally
sensing by her tone that he had gone way too far with this.

She was flushed and she was furious.  Without another
word, she spun away from him and stormed out of the
office, leaving her jacket and papers behind.

Mulder thudded his head back against the chair and
groaned, regretting his idiotic attempt at...what?  Trying for
a sexual harassment suit to add to his growing file of black
marks in the Bureau?  Trying to push Scully away from him,
maybe making her leave the X Files?  Trying to get himself
slapped silly by his partner?  He had no idea what had come
over him, and he realized that he needed to smooth this over
with her and try to make things right again.  He surged from
the chair, put his coat on, gathered up her papers and jacket,
and headed for her apartment.


5:30 PM
Scully's Apartment

Her embarrassment still equal to her fury, Scully slammed
the door as she arrived home, not caring what the neighbors
thought.  She headed straight for her bedroom, kicked off
her shoes, and removed her clothes as she muttered the dire
things she planned to do to her partner when she saw him
again.

After pulling an extra large tee shirt over her head, she
collapsed onto the bed and let the tears of frustration and
shame trickle down her cheeks.  Buying that vibrator had
taken all the bravado she possessed, given her repressed
sexual upbringing.  Where sex was concerned, she had a
very open mind...for other people.  For herself, the strict
Catholic teachings were too much a part of her to blithely
ignore, as much as she wanted to.  Damn him for knowing
just how to make her feel like a pervert. *He's* the pervert,
she reminded herself - don't let him get to you like this.

There was a distant tapping sound and she realized that
someone was knocking at her front door.  Crap.  She really
didn't need this right now.  Especially if it turned out to be
Mulder, and it probably would.

She looked down at herself and saw she was bare-legged,
shoeless, with a tee shirt that hung to mid-thigh.  "Grand
Tetons" was imprinted over her unfettered chest with a line
drawing of those mountains as a background.  She told
herself, the hell with it, brushed the remnants of the tears
from her face, and strode to the door.

Sure enough, a peek through the spy-hole revealed a
sheepish-looking Mulder holding what looked like her
jacket and some files.  She sighed and reluctantly opened
the door.

"You left some things at the office and I thought I'd
bring...bring them...by..." His words gradually drew to a
halt as his gaze left her eyes to travel downwards, taking in
her state of undress.

Pulling himself back to the matter at hand, he forced himself
to look her in the eye once more and sincerely said, "I'm
sorry.  I shouldn't have said what I did.  It was
unprofessional and none of my business."

Scully was still too mad to entertain an apology, no matter
how heartfelt.  She had intended to snatch the files and
jacket from his hands and slam the door in his face, but the
thought was much easier than the deed itself.  The contents
of three files went sliding to the floor, fanning out
everywhere once they landed.

"Oh, for God's sake," she uttered, more frustrated than
ever.  Mulder was already squatting down, trying to retrieve
the papers.  He was murmuring something that she couldn't
quite catch, but "...sorry" came through.

She sighed in exasperation.  "Quit apologizing for
everything!  I dropped the damned things; you had nothing
to do with it."

He stopped gathering sheets of paper and paused to stare up
at her, which unfortunately resulted in a good view up the
inside of the tee shirt, since she had raised her arms to
emphasize her point.

His eyes grew very large and he didn't seem to be breathing
anymore.

Scully felt a flush of arousal despite her annoyance with
him.  Her own breathing was more rapid than usual as she
lowered her arms and crossed them over her chest.

I don't believe this, she was thinking.  I can practically smell
the heightened sexual awareness in here.  Is that his warm
breath I feel against my legs?  Does he want me like that?
Probably right now he does.  But I would just be convenient
for him, and nothing more.  We can't go there.

Her thoughts occupied the space of a couple of seconds,
and then, decision made, she backed up several steps and
said, "I'll get the rest.  You had better go."

He blinked, and life returned to his frozen limbs.  Once
again towering over her, eyes shuttering whatever emotions
had briefly been bared, he nodded and turned toward the
door.

Mulder's mind was in a turmoil.  He had known for so long
that he loved her.  He loved her even when she was being
stubbornly oblivious to the mutual attraction they shared.
Like now.  Well, dammit, he was tired of this same old shit
and suddenly made a choice that would probably change
both their lives.

Hand on the doorknob, he said quietly, "You're just afraid,
Scully.  And so am I."

Her reaction was not what he had expected.

She was practically spitting the words at him.  "Don't you
*dare* use that psychology shit on me, Mulder!  Don't you
*dare*!!"

He was aghast with the realization that he had, in fact, been
using reverse psychology, but it hadn't been a conscious
thing.  He had meant exactly what he had said.

One look at Scully told him that she was as closed-off as he
had ever seen her.  It made him despair of moving forward
with their relationship; a goal he had always thought was a
mutual desire.  When they had almost kissed in his hallway
before everything went to hell - what was that?  She seemed
to be feeling the same things as he was then.  Did she regret
it?

He slowly moved closer to her, careful to make no sudden
moves, fearful of unleashing a voiced rejection in addition to
this silent one.

"I'm sorry; that wasn't meant the way you took it.  All I
wanted to say is that I'm sure you know I love you, and I
thought that you felt the same way.  We're obviously both
afraid to approach the subject, but don't you think that it's
past time to get over that hurdle and move on?"

The very air around them seemed to crackle against his skin,
he was so attuned to the moment.  His nerves were taut
with anticipation, practically quivering with tension, waiting
to see how she would react.

When she finally spoke, however, it was like a slap in the
face.

"What brought this on, Mulder?  The look you got up my
shirt, or the vibrator?"

The second the words left her mouth, Scully saw from his
reaction that her words, spoken in anger, had truly hurt him.
His face had turned pale, and then flushed with anger and
embarrassment.

Forcing the words out, he said, "One of those files..."   He
vaguely gestured toward the confusion of papers still
scattered on the floor.  "We have a case.  Read it and meet
me at Reagan National in two hours, TWA counter."

Then he was gone, leaving her to deal with the regret and
shame she felt

********

Mulder was furious at himself for opening up to her like
that.  It was obvious she hadn't taken him seriously.  Her
image of him must be that of the typical sex-obsessed male,
unable to keep his professional distance even though it was
clear that she wasn't interested.

He could only hope that she didn't request a transfer away
from him now.  With their mutual search for answers to
what they had found in Antarctica and here at home, she
would probably stick it out with him.  How uncomfortable
their relationship could become after his ill-timed pass at
her, though, was anybody's guess.  He glumly figured that it
would be highly uncomfortable, at least at first.

What could he say to her?  Sorry I looked up your shirt?
Sorry I mentioned your sex aid?  Sorry that you're uptight
since you're not getting any?

He smirked at how she would react to that.  He'd be so
dead...But he could never ask the question that would be
more to the point because the wrong answer would surely
kill him.  Sorry I love you?

He refused to think about that right now.

What he couldn't figure out was the reason AD Kersh chose
to send them off to San Antonio, Texas, on a week-old
kidnapping case.  It wasn't like San Antonio was a
backwater town with a two-agent office; hell, they had the
staff to handle this on their own.  Maybe he and Scully were
being called in so the rest of the agents could go home for
the weekend.  The ones who had a life, anyway.

As harsh as it sounded, he had to figure the victim was dead
by now.  Amy Weisman, age 11, had been snatched up off
the street while she was walking from school to a nearby
friend's house.  The ransom had been demanded and paid,
but Amy had never been returned to her parents.

His depressed sigh caught the attention of the flight
attendant as she passed next to his aisle seat and she
stopped to ask him whether he needed anything.

She was gorgeous, dressed to show off her assets, and
turning on the charm full bore.  Her efforts were wasted,
however, on the distracted agent.  Mulder's brain registered
that a very attractive young woman was leaning over him,
but he was still too wrapped up in thoughts of Scully to
consciously react.  He gave her a slight smile and said, "No,
thanks.  Maybe later."

She did catch his attention for a moment, though, when she
winked at him and replied, "Promises, promises," before she
moved on up the aisle.

His eyes followed her shapely ass for a moment, until it was
obscured by...Scully?  His partner had apparently found her
ticket waiting at the counter, boarded, discovered that their
seats weren't together, and had come looking for him.

With a contemptuous glare, she wordlessly dropped the
case file onto his lap, turned, and walked back to her seat
fifteen rows away.

So, Scully obviously thinks I deliberately chose seats as far
away from each other as possible, he mused.  And she no
doubt caught the flight attendant's little come-on just now.
Great.  Could my day go any better?

**************

Somewhere over East Texas
Nearly Midnight

Mulder's light doze was shattered when the plane lurched
violently and then dropped for a sickening three seconds
before regaining stability once more.  Amid screams from
the other passengers, his first thought was for Scully, who
he knew would be terrified.  She didn't like to fly anyway,
and this would hardly be her idea of a good time.

There was another lurch and it felt as though they were
skidding over speed bumps for a minute before the ride
smoothed out once again.

Over the noise the passengers were making, he could barely
hear the intercom.  "...seat belts...engine...land at..."

From what he could tell, they were going to try for a
landing at some airport.  A quick glance up the aisle and he
was out of his seat and moving quickly toward Scully's
location.

The next lurch was nasty and caught him still five rows back
from where Scully sat.  An overhead bin door must have
been jarred loose, because someone's very heavy carry-on
bag landed in is face, knocking him to the floor of the aisle.
A heavy buckle opened a cut on his cheekbone, at the same
time that the back of his head encountered someone's
armrest.

Things got hazy after that.  A blurry gray-haired lady was
trying to see if he was all right, his vision clearing for a
moment to reveal her own fright underlying the concern for
him.  Then a male flight attendant was helping him to his
feet, all the while he was giving him a good ass-chewing for
being out of his seat.

"Scully," he muttered, doggedly pushing his way forward to
his goal, the now-visible, very familiar red-head.  Finally
reaching her row, he could immediately see that he had been
right about her fear.

The blue eyes staring up into his spoke eloquently of her
terror.  But there was a relief to be seen, as well, at
registering his presence.

He settled himself into the vacant seat by her side, realizing
this was probably partly why she had been pissed off at him.
Someone must have canceled their tickets at the last minute,
leaving a seat next to her open, after all.  Since this was an
MD-80, there were only two seats to each row on this side
of the plane, for which he was grateful.

He took her hand in his, absently noting how cold it felt.  In
an attempt to distract her, he commented, "I missed you,"
giving her a genuine smile.

"Could have fooled me," she shot back, not giving him her
full attention yet.

Trying again for a reaction, he asked, "You had to pack in
quite a hurry today.  You didn't forget Mr. Happy, did
you?"  He threw in a smirk for effect.

That got her attention, all right.

A laser-like glare was directed at him as she said with
clenched teeth, "I threw it away."

"Oh, Scully.  Now I feel responsible that you felt you had to
get rid of it.  Tell you what - I'll replace it with something
much better."

Her speculative look actually brought a flush to his cheeks.

Suddenly there was a significant loss in altitude and he
found Scully's hands gripping his so hard that he doubted
that dynamite could have pried her loose.

When the plane shakily righted itself once more, she didn't
let go of his hands at first.  Then she slowly freed one hand
to gently touch Mulder's face near the gash over his
cheekbone.  But when she spoke it wasn't about his wound.

"I need for you to know - Mulder, I do love you."

His heart felt as though it would burst with the heat that
washed over him at her words.

"Mulder...if we survive this..."

"When, not 'if'," he interjected, trying to put all the
conviction in the world into his voice.

"...When we survive, I may still not act on these feelings,
but at least you'll know where my heart is in the matter."

"Scully, you should know me well enough by now to realize
that I'll respect your wishes in this, but you also have to
know that I'll be constantly testing your resolve, now that
you've confessed how crazy you are about me."

His eyes held a mixture of mischief and happiness as he
spoke.

The plane began another noticeable drop in altitude.

Scully's eyes widened and locked with his.  He could see a
certain acceptance and calmness in them now, where there
had only been fear moments ago.

Holding hands, there was no further need for words as the
ground rushed up to meet them.

(Continued in Part 2)
Date: Fri, 5 Feb 1999 20:14:01 EST
Subject: [EMXC Fwd] "Basic Urges" 2/3 by Gerry Hill

BASIC URGES   (2/3)
by Gerry Hill   (fox42@ix.netcom.com)

In the controlled crash, the plane's impact with the hard
runway was bone-jarring.  The aircraft managed to stay in
one piece, however, and the tires didn't blow out by some
miracle.  But it was moving way too fast as it veered right
and then left, barreling across the small air strip.

Mulder lost his grip on Scully's hand at first impact, and his
seatbelt let go from where it had been attached to the right
side of the seat structure.  In the first violent slew to the
right, his body slammed across Scully's.  Before he had time
to react, the aircraft swerved to the left, flinging him toward
the aisle.

Suddenly, two strong arms were wrapped around his waist -
his tiny partner had a death grip on him.  From the
determined expression on her face, she wasn't about to let a
mere jet aircraft or centrifugal force make her release the
fierce hold any time soon.

After what seemed like an eternity, the plane settled into a
semi-straight course, gradually losing speed.  When it came
to a stop Mulder had to pry Scully's fingers from where
they were still digging into his sides.  He fell back into his
seat, worried about her paleness.

"Hey, Scully.  The good news is we don't have to go listen
to the Bureau bullshit in the morning..."

He was interrupted by one of the flight attendants, who
busily was trying to herd everyone toward the exits.  There
was always the chance of fire, he supposed, so he grabbed
Scully's hand and moved into the aisle when there was a
gap.  The passengers generally looked dazed, although
some were on the verge of hysteria from fear.

The flight attendants kept up a soothing chatter, but were
insistent that carry-on items must be left behind for now.
He didn't think they had any carry-on items to worry about;
his partner had lately begun packing the laptop in her
luggage since a lot of the airlines were counting it in the
limited number of things they could carry onto the plane and
store in the overhead bins.

Scully was following her partner so closely as he moved up
the aisle that she kept bumping up against him.  After the
third soft collision, he smiled, slightly turned and murmured,
"Does this count as foreplay?"

At first she appeared oblivious to the remark, but he felt her
fist jab his arm when he resumed moving to the exit.  Maybe
she wasn't so shell-shocked anymore, he thought with relief.

Since the plane wasn't parked at a terminal, they had a flight
of metal stairs to descend before stepping onto the tarmac.
Several buses and ambulances stood ready nearby, along
with fire trucks and other emergency equipment.  Bubble
lights on the roofs of the vehicles splashed the night scene
with colors of blue, red, yellow and white.

Mulder stopped dead in his tracks as he neared one of the
buses, and Scully ran full-on into his backside with an
"Ooof!"

She grumbled, "I suppose that was the sex, right?"

Then she saw what had caught Mulder's attention: The bus
was military and there were Air Force uniforms swarming
all over the area.  In the urgency of the forced landing, the
flight crew had miraculously found a runway capable of
handling a large jet aircraft, but did it have to be an Air
Force base?

"Do you think they'll let us out of here once they find out
who we are?" he said half-jokingly.

A hand on his shoulder startled him.  He turned to see a
young, serious-looking lieutenant.

"Please come with me, sir."

His paranoia kicking in, Mulder took a step back, ready to
fight if he had to.

Puzzled by the reaction he was seeing, the young officer
said, "Sir, we're taking all the injured passengers to the base
hospital.  You seem to have an injury."  He gestured at the
agent's face.

Mulder had forgotten the cut and touched it, which caused
him to wince from the stinging pain.  The knot on the back
of his head didn't feel too wonderful either, now that he
thought about it.

"Thanks, but I don't need a hospital.  My partner here is a
doctor and she'll see to it."

Since Scully wasn't aware that he had fallen and taken a
blow to his head, she didn't argue that he needed to be
checked out.  But her temporarily unavailable luggage held
the first-aid kit that she carried with her on their trips into
the field, so she followed the officer over to the ambulance
to pick up some first-aid materials to use in treating his cut.

Mulder hung back, uneasy with the memory of the last time
Scully had been near an ambulance.  It had violently taken
her from him.  Okay, maybe it was time to accept that not
every person in a uniform was out to get him, but
nonetheless, he breathed easier when she was back at his
side, telling him they needed to board the second bus.
When he took her hand in his she didn't object, and they
quietly found two seats together toward the rear.

He tried to lean his head back against the seat but winced at
the shooting pain that resulted from the contact with his
injury.

"Mulder?"  His partner's worried murmur came as she let
go of his hand.  Before he could miss the connection he felt
soothing fingers on his scalp, gently turning his head so she
could see what was wrong.

He heard her take a deep breath, no doubt preparing to
verbally kick his ass for not telling her about this new
addition to his collection of head wounds, but just then a
sergeant in full camouflage gear climbed the steps up into
the bus.

Obviously a man without humor, he glared his authority at
the seated passengers until they quieted down.  Mulder
found himself idly wondering who might win if a contest
were held between his partner with her deadly raised
eyebrow, and the sergeant with his "you mess with me, son,
and you'll wish you'd never been born" attitude.  Scully, he
finally decided, without a doubt.

The hard-ass in question was loudly announcing, "We're
taking you to the only two motels in the Redvine area.
Since available rooms are limited, some of you may have to
double up.  The airline will pick up the tab and bus you into
Dallas in the morning.  If that's not your final destination,
you can then catch a continuing flight from there.  Your
luggage will be delivered to your rooms later.  Hopefully
your hand baggage was labeled.  If not, you may have to go
through a stack of it to find your own."

He then briskly exited the bus, giving no one a chance to
ask questions.  The bus driver pulled out onto a road and
presumably headed for the motels.

"You *vill* obey," Mulder intoned.

At her unamused glare, he contritely said, "Sorry I didn't
mention the head thing, Scully.  I'm pretty sure I'm not
concussed.  See?"  He widened his eyes and gazed directly
into hers to show there was no unnatural dilation.

He saw a curious expression cross her face for a moment.
It appeared to be a mixture of severe exasperation
and...affection?  And he finally let himself realize the import
of the words she had spoken on the plane -- that she loved
him.  The thought was universe-shattering.  He couldn't
have spoken just then to save his life.

Their faces were inches apart and he wondered how they
had gotten so close.  He could feel her warm breath on his
own lips, and it was more erotic than anything he had ever
known.  He was extremely aroused and knew that she was,
too.

Then the bus jounced through a huge pothole in the road
and their noses bumped together, hard.  It sort of broke the
mood, especially when Scully began giggling.

Giggling?  Lord, it was a miracle.  He sat grinning like an
idiot at her for a moment.

Then in a more serious tone, he asked, "How about you,
Scully?  Are you all right?  I landed on you pretty hard back
in the plane."

"Just a few bruises, but that's nothing new when we're on
the job."

It was like a bucket of cold water thrown over his body.  He
realized once more that he was constantly placing her in
danger.  But what was really tragic was that she seemed to
expect to be hurt when she worked with him.  He stared at
her for a moment and didn't say anything more for the rest
of the bus ride.  He was aware of the quizzical looks she
kept giving him, but didn't have the heart to share his
depressing thoughts.

Redvine consisted of one main street which ran past a
gothic-looking stone courthouse.  It wouldn't take much of
an imagination to see cowboys riding horses down its dusty
street and buckboard wagons loading up at the feed store.
At the moment, however, it was completely deserted.

The first motel was located just outside the town.  They saw
as they passed it that one of the buses was already
unloading passengers at the office.  Their motel was another
mile down the road and Scully had to snicker at its name as
the neon sign came into view:  Eat & Sleep.  It was a
combination motel/cafe, apparently.

By the time the agents had moved up in the line to the
clerk's counter, it was nearly two o'clock in the morning.
Yawning hugely, the clerk peered at the FBI agents'
identifications.  He tiredly handed Mulder a card key and
had him sign his name on a form.

"You're not giving us the same room, are you?" Scully
asked in what she considered a fairly non-threatening way.
She wasn't aware of Mulder's sidelong look when he heard
her objection.

The clerk blinked and nodded.  "We're having to double a
lot of people up - there's just no room for this many
customers in the two local motels, m'am.  Some of the
townspeople took guests into their homes already, which
helped a little bit."

Trying to lighten the mood, Mulder waggled his eyebrows
at the weary-looking woman at his side and said, "Only one
room; must be fate."

"Whatever," she sighed and followed him across the
courtyard to their assigned room.  She pretended that she
didn't hear him when he helpfully murmured, "I signed the
guest book 'Mr. Happy.' "

The motel room turned out to be fairly decent and clean,
and boasted a respectably large bathroom.  But there was
only one queen-sized bed.  With no luggage, they wouldn't
have a change of clothes...What would they wear to bed,
Scully wondered.

She looked up at her partner who was investigating all the
nooks and crannies of the place and commented, "This
sounds an awful lot like one of those videotapes of yours,
Mulder.  'Sorry, only one room, one bed, no clothes...'."

He grinned at her and added, "You forgot something.
There's only one bath towel; we'll have to share that, too."

"What?!" she exclaimed.  Checking for herself, she saw that
he was right.  There was only one washcloth, one hand
towel, and one bath towel in the whole place.

"Mulder, why don't you take a shower and get clean while I
go see about more towels?  I'll patch you up when I get
back."

She checked to see if she still had some coins in her pocket,
grabbed the ice bucket and card key from the bureau, and
then headed for the door.

"Since I'm going out, I'll see if there are any snack and ice
machines around here."  That got an indulgent nod from her
partner.  They pretended that he liked to have snacks
available when at a motel, but she was really the one who
had an occasional craving for junk food.

As she turned to pull the door shut behind her, she raised an
eyebrow at him and warned, "Don't you dare use all the hot
water!"

She didn't see the obstinate little-boy look on his face at
that comment, since she had already closed the door.  He
took those kinds of orders from her as a challenge, just out
of a general contrariness.

After taking his clothes off, he hunted for a hanger since he
would probably have to wear the same outfit again.  He
wanted to hang his suit in the bathroom so the steam from
the shower would hopefully remove a few wrinkles.  Not
finding anything in the closet, he searched through all the
drawers and tops of shelves just in case one might have
made its way there.  No luck.

The motel room door swung open just as he was
contemplating the empty closet for the third time, unable to
believe there were no hangers to be had.  Scully barged in,
saying, "Guess what?!!  The baggage showed up just as I..."
She stopped dead in her tracks and dropped a heavy
suitcase to the floor with a thud.

The middle-aged lady who was bringing up the rear with
another piece of luggage and an armload of towels said,
"Oh, dear," and let the bag slip to the floor.  The towels
were tightly clutched to her chest.

A very nude Mulder was looking up in mild surprise in the
direction of the door.  He didn't make a move to cover the
essentials, so Scully turned around, partly to hide her blush.
The woman with her wasn't so shy, however.  She stared in
open admiration until Mulder stepped back into his boxers
and they were securely in place.

Scully tried to hand the clerk a tip but she just winked as
she turned to go.  "No, thanks; the pleasure was all
mine."

Meanwhile, Mulder was wasting no time in grabbing his
bag, happy that he would have clean clothes to wear after
all.  However, he wasn't completely unaware of his
partner's reaction to catching him stark naked.  With
amusement twinkling in his eyes, he darted a look in her
direction.

Scully was making herself busy sorting through the first-aid
material she had laid out on the lamp table.  But her cheeks
bore a suspicious tint of pink and she didn't look at him
when she spoke.

"Hurry up and take your shower so I can treat your injury,
Mulder."

"Yes, m'am," he replied with a smirk.

He was pulling some clean boxers, sweat pants and tee shirt
from the open case when Scully, who was not beyond
pettiness on rare occasions, decided to retaliate.

"You know, the military had that luggage in their
possession for a long time, Mulder," she casually observed.

He paused, clothes in hand, and looked up at her.

"Meaning?"

"Well, you're the paranoid one - figure it out."

His expression was the exact same one she had seen on his
face when he had thought that the door on the roof of that
building in Dallas had been locked.

With a tentative jab or two, he poked around at the contents
of his bag, clearly expecting an electronic listening device to
leap out at him.

Realizing that it might take forever at this rate to get him
showered, patched up and then take a shower for herself,
she said, "I was only kidding you, Mulder.  You can look
later if you're still suspicious about what might be planted in
your underwear.  Just get into the shower, okay?"

"I'll leave the underwear for you to check out, Scully," he
said with a big grin.  Then he disappeared into the bathroom
with a last suspicious glance over his shoulder at the
innocent-appearing bag.

The hot spray of the shower stung his injuries like a
sonofabitch.  He gingerly washed with the shampoo and
soap provided by the motel, rinsed, and was carefully trying
to avoid his injury as he rubbed his head with the towel
when a tap sounded at the door.

"Yeah?" he asked through the folds of the towel.

Apparently taking his response as an invitation, Scully came
into the room with the first-aid material.

"I thought we could do this in here..."

"We have to stop meeting like this," he joked as Scully
realized that her partner was once again nude.

"I...I thought you were..." she began to say as she turned to
leave.

He didn't wait for her to continue, but dropped the towel
and reached out to gently close his hand over her wrist.

She froze, but didn't turn around to face him.

"Scully," he whispered.

She finally said, with a quaver in her voice, "If you want to
have a serious discussion, put some clothes on."

He softly tugged on her wrist and she finally turned to look
him directly in the eyes.  She felt weak-kneed at the
emotions she read there, one overlapping the other:
Undisguised love, hope, sheer terror, and finally, desire.

Her body seemed to be responding on its own.  She found
herself leaning toward him, trying to breathe, not able to
think coherently.

"I'm scared, Scully," he said as he gently touched her cheek
with the back of his hand.

"Me, too," she shakily agreed.

"But not *that* scared," he said, as he pulled her to him in a
sweet embrace.  The bandages, tape and antibiotic ointment
slipped unnoticed to the floor as her arms went around his
waist.

With her head nestled against his chest and her body
enfolded in his arms, Scully felt as though she had finally
come home.  A feeling of peace and contentment washed
over her at first, but the proximity of his unclothed body
was having an effect on both of them.

No longer content with just holding each other, they moved
to meet one another's gaze.

Mulder cupped her face in his hands, letting her see his soul,
if she cared to.  He was way past hiding what he felt for her.

Then he lowered his head and placed his mouth on her full,
parted lips, feeling an electric tingle at the touch.  Oh, God,
it was better than he had ever imagined.  Unable to hold
back any longer, he deepened the kiss and felt a joy at her
response with the first tentative touch of her tongue on his
lips.  That was all the signal he needed, and his tongue
plundered her mouth in a sensuous heat.

Her hands moving over his naked back felt like trails of fire.
Without breaking the kiss, he pushed the jacket off her
shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.  The silk blouse and
flimsy bra she wore didn't provide much of a barrier
between the hardened nipples of her breasts and his hands as
they brushed across her chest.  When she moaned into his
mouth at this contact, he was lost.

Breaking the kiss, he whispered, "Scully."

"Mmmm?"

"I want to make love to you.  Are you okay with that?  We
don't have to do this, you know."

Her answer was nearly inaudible but he had no trouble
figuring out her reply when a small hand wrapped itself
around his erection.

With a sharp intake of breath, he tried to get himself under
control.  Reluctantly moving her hand away, he led her out
of the bathroom and over to the bed.

The phone rang.

"Ignore it," he mumbled, his fingers busy unfastening the
first few buttons of her blouse.

As he kissed the tops of her breasts she gasped, "Mulder,
I'm sure that the Bureau knows we're here.  What if it's the
AD?"

He pushed her off-balance and they fell onto the bed.  Intent
on unbuttoning the rest of her blouse, she saw that he
wasn't about to be distracted.  But the ringing was driving
her crazy.

She reached over her head to grab the receiver from the
lamp table.

While Mulder deftly opened her blouse and unhooked her
bra, she managed to utter, "Hello?" in a not-too-breathless
voice.

"Agent Scully?  Sorry to bother you at this time of the
morning, but the situation in San Antonio has become more
urgent.  Is Agent Mulder there?"

Shit.  It *was* AD Kersh.

"Yes, sir."

Mulder's warm mouth closed over her left nipple and she
closed her eyes, suppressing a moan.

"Good.  You'll take a military flight to San Antonio that
leaves in one and a half hours from the Air Force base.  The
SAC in Dallas is also sending a couple of agents to help out
on the case and they should be arriving at your motel in ten
or fifteen minutes.  You'll all catch that flight to San
Antonio, is that clear?  Call me when you arrive at the
Bureau office."

The AD hung up just as Scully lost her self-control.  She
dropped the receiver and groaned with the intense feeling
that rippled through her body.  Her partner was
industriously  rubbing one nipple with his palm while licking
and sucking the other one with undisguised enthusiasm.

"Mu...Mulder.  We...have to...to...aaaahhhhh!"

Squeezing her nipples with his thumbs and forefingers, he
looked up at his writhing partner and said, "What was that
all about?  Do I want to know?"  His eyes were heavy-
lidded and dark.

She told him in between her moans, and after a moment of
thoughtful silence, he grinned and dove back into his
activities, mumbling, "Ten minutes.  Excellent."

(Concluded in Part 3)

Date: Fri, 5 Feb 1999 20:14:08 EST
Subject: [EMXC Fwd] "Basic Urges" 3/3 by Gerry Hill


BASIC URGES   (3/3)
by Gerry Hill    (fox42@ix.netcom.com)

Mulder, given the deadline, wasted no more time than
necessary.  He divested Scully of the rest of her clothing,
tossing items in every direction as they were removed.  His
exuberance wasn't entirely unexpected, but it was
nonetheless overwhelming.

Soon Scully wasn't thinking much at all as his hands and
tongue pulled her into a world of pure sensation.  He would
make eye contact with her from time to time, eyes sparkling
with arousal and pleasure.  She realized in one of her few
lucid moments that she had never seen him so...happy.  As
though he finally had found what he had always been
seeking.  Then her thought processes shut down completely
to experience the most earth-shattering orgasm of her life.

She gradually became aware of his smiling face next to hers.
He was propped on an elbow, looking extremely pleased
with himself, watching her return to reality.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured as he leaned in to claim
her mouth with his own.  As his tongue invaded the parted
lips, she felt his hand parting her legs once more.

Without breaking the kiss, he moved his body over hers, his
erection long and heavy against her upper thigh.

Scully was vaguely conscious of the sounds of a car
stopping outside, and then AD Kersh's conversation
abruptly came back to her.  It had to have been at least ten
minutes and probably closer to fifteen since he had hung up.
They were about to have company.

"My God, what are we doing?" she murmured against his
chest.  Beginning to panic at the thought of being caught
like this with her FBI partner, she shoved her hands against
his chest and slipped out from under him.  "Mulder, get
dressed *now!*"

From Mulder's viewpoint, Scully quite suddenly seemed to
defy the laws of physics.  Ready to penetrate her, she
abruptly disappeared from where he had thought he had
pinned her to the bed.  When he looked up he saw her
breathing heavily, sitting at the head of the bed, propped
against the headboard.

With an expression of a dog who had just been kicked by a
beloved master he managed to rasp out, "What...what's
going on, Scully?  Don't you want me?"

She felt that forlorn question slam into her heart.  Knowing
with a certainty that she *did* want him more than
anything in the world, it was time to admit that to herself
and, more importantly, to him.  It was evident that he took
her rejection personally, rather than seeing it was her
concern at being caught by the Bureau.  She opened her
mouth to set things right.

Suddenly there was a loud knocking at their motel room
door, and someone was calling, "Agents Mulder and
Scully?"

She swivelled her head toward the source of the knocking
and Mulder glanced up but showed no sign of moving.

As the knocking came again, more insistently, he hung his
head in defeat, seeing he had entirely lost Scully's attention.
His arousal, however, hadn't diminished at all, and in fact
had become excruciating.

"Be there in a second!" she called out in response to yet
another rapping at the door.

Mulder rolled off the bed and stood up, still painfully erect;
he watched as she swiftly cleaned herself, dressed, and
picked up the first aid materials from the bathroom floor.
Then he shut himself into the bathroom as she left to answer
the door.

She wasn't oblivious to his current state of mind...or body.
Scully knew that she'd have to get things straight with him,
and soon, but now the priority was answering the door with
some semblance of dignity.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door to a man and a
woman in suits.  It didn't take much deductive reasoning to
figure out they were the agents from the Bureau.

"Agent Scully?" the man asked.  He had a twinkle in his eye
as his gaze traveled down her figure, obviously noting her
dishevelment.

Standing as straight and tall as she could manage, Scully
gave him her no-nonsense look and said, "Yes?"

They both held FBI identification up for her inspection.
"I'm Special Agent Daniel Martinez and this is my partner,
Special Agent Mary Jo Connor.  I believe that your AD let
you know we'd be coming along with you to San Antonio?"

Nodding, she stood aside so they could enter the room.

Martinez, a tall, dark-haired man in his mid-thirties,
wandered around, taking in the scenery, so to speak.  Agent
Connor, at least five inches taller than Scully, was a black-
haired beauty with a strong Texas accent.  She confided,
with a wry smile at her partner, "Since it's the middle of the
night and a weekend at that, you can probably figure out
that we're on the Bureau's shit list to get this assignment."

"Yeah, well, it happens," Scully muttered, thinking of their
own less-than-desirable assignments of late.  "Why don't
you two sit down for a minute and I'll get Agent Mulder.
He has some injuries from the plane crash and I was about
to treat them."  She indicated the items in her hand, and
then went back to the bathroom door.

"Mulder!" she called.  "We have company.  Come on out
when you're ready so I can doctor you up, then we'll have
to get on the road again."

There was no answer, but she caught a rhythmic sound and
when she heard a grunt or two, suddenly realized what he
was doing.  Her face flushed and she found herself fervently
hoping that the other agents couldn't hear what was going
on in such close proximity.

A final faint groan, a toilet flushing, water running, the
rustle of clothing; all of this was clearly audible to her and
there was no way she could look at Martinez or Connor to
see if they, too, were enjoying the sound effects.

Then the door opened and her partner stood there staring at
her accusingly.  He was wearing his sweat pants, his hair
stood up in rock-star spikes, and a heart-breaking sadness
practically oozed from his pores.

Since they weren't alone, all she could do was try to
reassure him with her eyes, but it was obvious that he wasn't
picking up the proper signals.

She attempted to inject a little enthusiasm into introducing
him to the new arrivals, but failed miserably.  Scully wanted
nothing more than to be alone with him right now.

After changing to jeans and a tee shirt behind the closet
door, Mulder slumped down on the bed next to the lamp
and allowed Scully to apply salve and butterfly band-aids to
the cut on his face.  His head had a painful lump on it, but
the skin wasn't broken, so there was nothing she could do
for that.  He wouldn't meet her eyes during the entire
procedure, which bothered her more than a verbal rebuke
would have.

When Agent Martinez spoke, his voice startled her, since
she had been so intent on Mulder that she had forgotten all
about the other two occupants of the room.

"All ready?  Just leave the room keys on the bureau and I
can help with your luggage," he said.

Scully didn't bother asking them to wait while she got
cleaned up; she could do that when they reached their
destination.  Presumably, they would check into a motel in
San Antonio before having to go to the Bureau.

She hung back as Connor and Martinez took the bags out to
the car and then reached for Mulder's hand.  He pulled it
back, however, and muttered, "Don't.  Not here."

She flushed and finally was able to capture his eyes with
hers.  They looked wounded.

But then he gave a lopsided smile and said, "Don't worry,
Scully.  I'll live."

He tore his eyes from hers, walked over to the car, and
obediently climbed into the back seat behind Martinez.
Scully soon was settled into the seat next to him, and then
they were off.

Mulder could hear the two agents talking shop in the front
seat, when Agent Connor suddenly turned to tell him, in her
Texas drawl, "You can call me Mary Jo."  He absently
replied, "Call me Mulder," and wished she would just let
him be miserable in peace.

Mulder made the appropriate social noises but wasn't really
paying much attention to the next twenty minutes of chatter.
He tried to lean back and get comfortable, but the knot on
his head wouldn't allow it.  Resigned to being
uncomfortable, he finally allowed himself to think about
what had happened in the motel room.

They loved each other, right?  Well, what the hell was her
problem?  Getting her off was okay, apparently.  Pity that
the same courtesy didn't extend to him.  Wasn't she ready
to break that final hurdle in their relationship?  Guess not.
Hell, she had told him on the plane that maybe she wouldn't
let him in all the way.   Okay, he could do celibate.  What
else would be new?  But knowing now that she actually
loved him, would he be able to keep his distance like
before?  He supposed there wasn't much choice in the
matter.  God, how he had wanted to really make love to her.

He was glad that the darkness hid his blush when he
remembered relieving his frustration in the bathroom while
his partner and God knew how many people probably heard
everything.  What the hell had possessed him?  Well, part of
it was obviously that his hard-on wasn't going away and
that he was horribly frustrated, but there was also the fact
that he was angry at his partner for refusing him.  Maybe
someone *was* knocking at the door, but she could have
ignored it like he had.

"Mulder?"  He brought himself back with a start as he
realized that Agent Connor was reaching back between the
front seats and was touching his arm to get his attention.

"Oh.  Sorry," he said, really looking at her for the first time.
Despite the limited visibility in the dim glow of the car's
dashboard lights, and despite his preoccupation with a
certain red-head, he would have had to have been dead to
not appreciate the loveliness of the woman who was
touching him.

Her deep blue eyes held concern as she asked, "Are you all
right?  You did hit your head pretty hard, from the lump I
saw."

At that, Scully turned to eye her partner.  At times like
these, when she suspected that he might be more injured
than he would admit, he could swear that she had X-Ray
vision.  She didn't need to voice her questions; her
expression told him exactly what she was thinking.

With the two intent pairs of eyes on him, he felt
uncharacteristically self-conscious.  Then he saw Scully's
eyes flick sideways, taking in the image of Agent Connor's
hand on his arm.

The change in her expression was infinitesimal, but Mulder
caught it.  Scully didn't like what she saw.  For some
reason, that revelation upset him.

"Stop," he said, reaching out to tap Martinez on the
shoulder.

Startled, the man took his foot off the gas pedal and the car
began to slow down.

"What the hell?  We're still two miles from the base."

He knew the first thought Scully would have was that he
was ill, probably from the head injury.  To hell with it.

"Pull over.  Now," he insisted, beginning to unlatch the
door handle.

With a crunch of loose gravel, the car halted on the shoulder
of the road.  Mulder ignored Scully's voice and stepped out
into the inky black night, breathing deeply of the fresh air.
He had felt nauseated in the car.  He had to get a grip
before he made even more of an ass of himself in front of
these people.  And Scully.

He barely made it to the rear of the car before he surprised
himself by having to vomit, after all.  Bent over, clutching
his stomach, he staggered a few more feet and threw up
onto the grass verge.

Spitting the last of the foul-tasting crap from his mouth, he
became aware that Scully's arm was around his waist, trying
to support him as best she could.  A couple of tissues were
placed in his hand and he gratefully wiped his mouth,
noticing that his hands were slightly shaking.

"Come on, Mulder.  We're taking you to the base hospital.
It's the only medical facility in the area."

"S...Scully.  I'm okay."

"Don't.  You're obviously not okay.  Move it, buster."

He irritably shook her arm away and backed up a step,
saying, "I said no.  It's not a concussion.  I don't have a
headache or double vision or any other of that shit.  It's us."

A pause, and he could tell she understood exactly what he
meant.  Even in the darkness, he was attuned to her
breathing rhythm and movements.

Might as well air it out now as later, since the other two
agents were still in the car.

"I gave you my heart back there, Scully...and a damned
good orgasm, too, come to think of it.  Did it mean anything
to you?  Did it?  I really want to know."

"Of course it did.  My God, what do you think I am?"

"I don't know any more...a wannabe vestal virgin?  Or do
you plan to screw someone occasionally to relieve the
tension, since you sure don't seem to want it from me."

She seemed to be debating whether to hit him or just walk
away.  At least she was reacting and he might even get an
answer to his questions for a change.

Then he heard the unmistakable sound of a sob.  Aw, hell, if
Scully was crying, they were in more trouble than he had
thought.

She moved closer to him and he could see the glistening of
the tears in her eyes by the pale moonlight.  He wanted to
wipe them away but didn't dare touch her just yet.

"Mulder."  Another sob.  "You're an idiot."

Whoa.  He hadn't expected that.

"As a psychologist, you must know that women are much
more apt to be distracted during lovemaking than a man,
and with that pounding at the door going on, well..."

His heart sang.  It wasn't that she didn't want to, then.  Try
to act normal he told himself.  Mr. Cool.  Either that or fall
to the ground and kiss her feet.

He snorted in amusement.  "You mean I'm going to have to
rent a sensory deprivation tank every time we get the urge?"

The relief was apparent in her voice as she sensed that he
was going to be all right with everything.

"I wouldn't go *that* far, but disconnecting the phones and
doorbell next time might be a good move."

Next time, next time, there'll be a next time.  Thank you,
God.

He felt her small hand take his, gently tugging him back
towards the car.

"I'd hug you right here, but our new friends might find that
a little unprofessional of us."

He squeezed her hand and countered, "Hug?!  Hell, I'd
throw you down in the road and finish what we started
earlier if I didn't think some rancher would run us over in
his pickup truck."

"Herds of deer might be a problem, too, or so I've been
told."

"This is Texas, after all," he agreed with a straight face.

He stopped her just before she got into the car, gesturing
skyward.  Entranced, she tried to take in the billions of stars
overhead; a sight that was obscured by the bright lights of
Washington, D.C.

Looking at those parted lips as she gazed at the heavens,
Mulder groaned, knowing at last what it was like to kiss
Scully and wanting nothing more than to repeat the
experience.  First, though, he had to lose Martinez and
Connor...

THE END