From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org
Date: 25 Oct 2004 19:44:39 -0000
Subject: Bite Me, Baby by abracadabra by abracadabra
Source: direct

Reply To: abracadabra1754@hotmail.com


Title: Bite Me, Baby

Author: abracadabra

Rating: R

Keywords: M/S, some quasi-smut

Spoilers: Season 6.

Summary: Candy corn it ain't. Some Halloween fluff.

Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine. As a matter of fact, 
they don't bear much resemblance to CC's characters either, but 
they do belong to him, 1013 and Fox.

Thanks: To Denise for quick beta.

Dedication: To Kim, my partner in all things XF, and very good 
friend from north of the border.

Feedback: Will be happily accepted at: abracadabra1754@hotmail.com

Website: http://www.geocities.com/fanficcorner/ 

October 15, 2004


Bite Me, Baby
By abracadabra


xXxXx
Mulder's Apartment
Friday, October 30

How did he get himself into this predicament? Well, actually there 
were two predicaments, and if he didn't attend to the first, the 
second one would only get worse. These weren't leather pants; they 
were sprayed on skin...with a metal zipper fly. Why did he ever 
agree to wear them? Too many questions, and no readily available 
answers.

"Ouch, damnit!" The fact that he'd managed to snag his pubic hair 
in the little metal teeth was bad enough, but that pain was 
compounded by the fact that the harder he tried to unzip the pants, 
the tighter the soft and now very warm leather got around his balls.

He was going to kill someone. As soon as he could breathe again, 
and was ensured that his manhood was going to come out of this 
alive.

The thong the clerk had pointed out to him hadn't helped; it had 
been easy enough when he tugged the leather up over his ass, but 
other than providing a very flimsy shield in front, it seemed to 
have no redeeming value.

The rest of his costume -- and he used the term very loosely -- was 
slung over the chair in the living room. What there was to it. 
Mulder had tried to tell her that vampires wore long black capes, 
but she would have none of it. Scully was a sadist, pure and simple.

Although he couldn't claim to have seen many, Mulder knew that 
vampires did not routinely dress in skin tight leather pants and 
low-cut, equally fitted leather vests. Without a shirt underneath. 
At least the low black boots were comfortable.

Finally managing to relieve some of the pressure that threatened to 
deprive him of his potential studliness, Mulder sighed 
exaggeratedly. Padding barefoot around his bedroom, Mulder tried to 
hold as much of the pants away from his lower body as he could in 
an attempt to ease the throbbing the zipper incident had caused. If 
he weren't in so much pain, he might find some humor in the 
situation. 

How had he been convinced to wear this ridiculous outfit? The answer
was simple: Scully. His brilliant, intelligent, and normally pretty 
conservative partner. The one who used to chastise him on his taste 
in neckties. The very same woman who had scoffed at most Bureau 
functions over the years -- not that he minded; he felt the same 
way -- was now willing to attend the annual All Hallows Eve party. 
All right, so the truth of the matter was, he thought as he headed 
for the living room and grabbed the remote, he'd do just about 
anything if she asked him to.

But seriously. A party. In costumes. And she refused to tell him 
what she was wearing.

Sinking into his couch with the combined creaking and moaning of 
leather against leather, Mulder set the remote down long enough to 
tug on his boots.

Mulder rose once again, moving his legs in slow motion, 
long strides, hoping to loosen the vice grip the animal skin 
had on his legs, allowing him to focus on once again dealing 
with closing his fly. This time, he worked a bit harder to move 
things out of the way of the closure.

He then grabbed the vest and slipped his arms through the deeply 
cut armholes, fastening the small silver clasp cross his chest.  
Thank god it was a balmy night.

Slicking his hands through his hair, and trying to push back a few 
errant locks that insisted on falling onto his forehead, he shut 
off the television. The only thing missing were his fangs. There 
was no way he was putting them in until they arrived at the party.


xXxXx
Scully was right on time; although that didn't really surprise him. 
They both tended to be punctual, which worked well. She'd refused 
to tell him about her costume, but what had surprised him even more 
was that she was actually going to wear one. She'd assured him that 
she wouldn't cop out.

A small smile played at the corners of his mouth as he went to 
answer the door.

The small smile grew to a full-fledged leer, his lips parting.

Standing in the hallway was his usually circumspect and tailored 
partner. But no one would describe *this* Scully as either 
circumspect or tailored.

"Jesus, Scully, get in here," Mulder managed to grit out as he 
lunged for her arm and pulled her inside. He couldn't decide 
whether to grab his trench coat and cover her up, or rip off what 
little clothing she was wearing. 

Where were his fangs? She looked good enough to eat. No, make that 
good enough to devour. 

Mulder realized he hadn't moved since he'd escorted her into his 
foyer. He hadn't released her arm, either, as was evidenced by the 
movement of her eyes; glancing first at his fingers on her bare 
biceps and then at his face. "Mulder?" Her tone didn't mask the 
amusement she couldn't hide. "You're going to bruise my skin."

His mind wouldn't shut down, constantly supplying silent quips. 
What he actually said was, "What are you wearing?"

Mulder finally let her arm go, stepped back, and the forward again, 
taking it all in. Her hair was severely upswept on one side only, a 
dark glittery barrett holding it in place. Long, dangling, and 
equally glittery earrings almost brushed her bare shoulders. He 
inhaled, and then exhaled in a heavy whoosh.

A very thin slivery string was tied around her neck. In front, it 
held the wide edges of a metallic looking top. If he could call it 
that. Its hem ended in a point at her waist, but it didn't seem much 
larger than a scarf, really.

Mulder's eyes trailed down farther, drawn by the 'V' of the top, 
past the glimpse of her navel. To a very tight and very short black 
stretchy skirt. And lots of Scully leg. Lots and lots of leg. There 
were probably shoes or heels, but he didn't think he could get that 
far.

"Like the costume, Mulder?" 

One slow nod was all he could manage. But he did have questions. 
"What or who are you supposed to be, Scully?" and "Isn't it a 
little too cold out to be wearing so little?" and then "Are you 
trying to give me a heart attack?"

Mulder managed to regain his composure, but he did want an answer 
to the first question, at least.

Scully sauntered into the living room, leaving him to follow her 
with his eyes, and then his body. There was another very thin 
silvery string tied across the middle of her back, accenting the 
translucent quality of her skin as it curved downward and gently 
outward into the low waistband of the skirt. The skirt that clung 
to her ass like spray paint.

She turned around so quickly that he nearly bumped into her. "I 
don't have to *be* anyone, Mulder. It's just a different look for 
me."

She had that right. "Then why were you so insistent that I wear the 
leather? I mean, when was the last time you saw a vampire dressed 
like this?" He gestured to his vest and pants.

"Maybe you should be asking when the last time was that I saw 
a vampire period." Okay, he knew it had been awhile, but Mulder 
was sure she was flirting with him. Scully, a tease and a flirt. 
Who knew? 

Who minded?

She had her hands on her hips now, the movement causing the top to 
shimmer with the glints of light from the ceiling fixture. Mulder 
could see the curve of her breasts, and the tips of her nipples 
beneath the very drapey fabric. She couldn't be wearing a bra. Did 
she really expect him to allow her to go out in public?

"I'll be right back," he muttered, backing up toward his bedroom, 
noting the way her brows furrowed in puzzlement.

Mulder took a few deep breaths and readjusted the crotch of his 
very confining pants. This was going to be a very long night if he 
didn't get his northern head to control the southern head. But with 
Scully looking the way she did, and being within touching distance, 
he was sure this was one war the South was going to win for sure.

"You coming, Mulder?"

<I hope not, Scully> He reappeared by her side.

"Don't forget your fangs and mask, Vampire Man." She purred; Scully 
had just purred at him, and placed one small, warm palm against his 
bare chest.
 
xXxXx
The FBI All Hallows Eve Celebration

Mulder almost felt right at home; for once, spookiness seemed to be 
de rigeur.  As soon as they'd gotten out of the car, it was whisked 
away by a kid with a lead foot. The vehicles continued arriving, 
and the valets continued clearing the circular drive.

The numbers of attendees didn't really surprise him, since Mulder 
knew this was pretty much a required event. The costumes, however, 
were another matter. Conservative and dark-suited by day agents 
and managers turned into governmentally footloose and almost 
fancy-free by night. 

Glancing over at his partner who had moved toward the entrance, 
Mulder knew it was true for her, at least. Given the myriad other 
options she'd had available, this choice had truly shocked him. And 
pleased him greatly. In a sexy way.

Donning his mask and fangs, he caught up with her just as a rush of 
Men (and Women) in Black, assorted ghosts and goblins and others he 
couldn't quite identify pushed through. Without turning, Mulder 
extended his hand, and Scully clutched it. The warmth of skin 
against skin helped curb the sudden chill in the overly 
air-conditioned lobby.

"This isn't bad, Mulder," Scully told him loudly, to be heard over 
the booming music and voices.

"What?"

She leaned in closer, now on tiptoes and holding onto to his bare 
arms for balance. "I said, this is pretty nice." 

He'd heard her the first time...but was really enjoying their 
closeness. It was getting harder and harder for Mulder to ignore 
the feelings he had for Scully, and was pretty sure she felt the 
same way. Neither of them seemed to know how to take that last 
step. Oh, he'd tried a few times, but she'd brushed him off. He'd 
chalked it up to her not being ready. But lately, the signs were 
there with more frequency. Mulder hadn't wanted to read too much 
into the costume she chose for him, but he couldn't help it. He saw 
other vampires tonight, and he looked downright naked compared to 
them.

And then there was her choice of costume. And her bewitching blue 
eyes behind her black sequined mask.

There was something in the air tonight; that was for sure.

xXxXx
They made their way to the refreshments area where the tables and 
decorative stands were covered with cobwebs, dry ice smoke, and 
winding and twining twigs and small white lights. Mulder had 
already scarfed down a handful of 'Magik Treats' on his way to the 
drinks.

Thankfully, it was not as loud since they were now on the other 
side of one of the moveable wall divider. Ladling two tall black 
paper cups full of Spooky Punch, Mulder took the opportunity 
to scan the faces; only to realize that with masks, it was difficult
to tell if he knew anyone here.

That was until Scully tugged on his waistband from behind. Mask or 
not, she had someone in tow he'd recognize anywhere. Assistant 
Director Walter Skinner's bald pate was hard to miss. Not to 
mention the sheer size of the man; even in his quasi-costume.

"You went all out, Sir," Mulder quipped. 

The AD's jaw clenched, giving way to the barest smile.

Other than the squared-off black mask, Skinner's attempt at dressing
for the event included a 1920s style trench coat, wing tips and a 
felt fedora he carried under his arm.

It was Scully who explained that they were looking at the nineties 
version of the Bureau's namesake, J. Edgar himself. Mulder couldn't 
help it; he burst out laughing, wondering whether to voice his 
thoughts about how their boss might look in more feminine attire.

"And I suppose you look better, Mulder?" Skinner's terse question 
told Mulder he'd be wise not to broach the subject.

Riding to the rescue, Scully handed the AD a drink no one had seen 
her pour. The three downed the smooth punch, and then Scully 
dragged Mulder to the dance floor. Mulder took just enough time to 
grab her cup and his and set them on the nearby table before 
grasping her hand with both of his, willingly allowing himself to be 
led.

xXxXx
They'd just reached the fringes of the energetic crowd on the dance 
floor where the bass vibrato and pulsating strobes combined to 
create a true sensory experience. Releasing his hand, Scully seemed 
to have decided she didn't have to wait for Mulder to join the 
other ghouls and boys. The effects of the quickly consumed drink 
made her chuckle at her silent play on words.

Mulder wanted to pinch himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming. He 
was transfixed by this totally uninhibited and vibrant woman with 
her arms in the air and her head thrown back. Who was she, and what 
had she done with Scully? For sixty long seconds, he felt rooted to 
his spot, his gaze never leaving her. The combination of the heavy 
beat of the music and the image of Scully's swaying body held him 
trance-like. 

He had to get closer.

Scully had been sucked a little farther into the center of the room, 
but the vibrancy of her coppery hair helped Mulder locate her.  
Placing his hands on her shoulders from behind, he bent down, his 
lips to her ear. "Can anyone join this party?"

"Not just anyone, Mulder," she told him, laying her hands on top of 
his as she backed up against him.

It could have been the result of the jumping and jolting bodies 
around them, but he preferred to interpret her action as deliberate.
His hands dropped to her waist, taking her hands with him. Swaying 
together, somewhat awkwardly, but nonetheless making his 
temperature rise.

Mulder tried to think of something to say to her -- some way to ask 
her why tonight, why here -- but he quickly decided that words 
weren't needed right now. After all, he was pretty good at reading 
nonverbal communication, and he knew what was being said when she 
reached back, past his arms, and held their bodies closer still.

She was having some difficulty stretching past his arms, her 
fingers just grazing his ass. Mulder wanted to help her; he was 
always willing to be of assistance; especially for Scully. So he 
took his hands from her hips and wrapped them around her chest and 
shoulders, the feel of her breasts beneath the slippery and sleek 
top ratcheting up his need even more.

He rested his chin on top of her hair, inhaling sharply as her 
fingers gained purchase, squeezing and kneading his ass. Drawing 
them closer still. If only he could will away their clothing. And 
everyone else in the room.

Instead, he spun Scully around, mesmerized by the way the rotating 
mirrored ceiling globe cast what seemed like hundreds of tiny 
points of light across her body and surprised expression. God, she 
was gorgeous, Mulder thought, not for the first time that night.

"Where are we going?"

"Just come with me, Scully."

"You didn't like dancing with me?"

"Scully, you know just how much I was enjoying dancing with you. 
That's why we're leaving the dance floor."

Mulder's fangs fell out of his pocket as they made their way off 
the dance floor. He knew there was probably a joke in there 
somewhere, but his higher brain functions had taken up residence 
somewhere lower in his body.

xXxXx
"What is this room?"

"Does it matter?"

Mulder kicked the door shut and twisted the deadbolt into place. In 
all honesty, he had no idea what this room was, and he didn't care. 
All he knew is that he had a semi-willing -- hopefully soon to 
become *very* willing -- Scully all to himself.

They were both breathing hard; Mulder had jolted them from a state 
of slow seduction to adrenalin rushed movement. That, combined with 
the close confines of wherever they were only served to turn him on 
more. The risk of getting caught was relatively low, but they were 
at an official function with more of their skin visible than he'd 
ever dreamed possible.

And he was wasting precious time thinking about what he should be 
doing.

But it seemed Scully had the same idea as her hand found the front 
of his pants, first tugging on the waistband to get his attention. 
She had it. Then attempting to wedge her fingers between the warm 
leather and his much warmer skin.

Mulder was instantly hard, or had he just become harder than he was 
earlier? He didn't know, he didn't care. He had to help her get his 
pants open.

Or get her top off.

Or get his hand under her skirt.

Instead, he grabbed her shoulders and bent down, his lips seeking 
and finding hers. Their teeth clicked and gnashed until they found 
a way to deepen the kiss, their tongues delving inside each other's 
mouth.

Mulder put just enough space between them to catch his breath, and 
then buried his face in the crook of her neck. Scully's soft moans 
turned to whimpers then, and he could've sworn he heard her say, 
'bite me, baby.'

So he did.

xXxXx
Mulder's Apartment
Friday, October 30

"Mulder."

Scully was calling his name and life was good. He was surprised 
that his manual dexterity was still so strong, letting him untie 
the bow behind her neck, allowing the glitzy halter to slip from 
her breasts and pool at her waist.

"Mulder." 

Her voice was louder this time, and if he didn't know she felt the 
same way he did, he would have thought he detected a note of alarm. 
But the fact that she'd managed to unzip his pants and free his 
throbbing erection told him she, too, was as horny and ready as he 
was.

"Jesus, Mulder, wake up." Scully's hands were on his arms, shaking 
him. He wanted her attention, but she had to put at least one hand 
back on his raging hard-on.

"Wanna bite you..." The taste of her skin, slightly salty, 
somewhat bitter from her perfume, firm, hot...Scully skin. Mulder 
sucked hard, his teeth gently nipping...

"Get up, Mulder."

"I *am* up, Scully." 

"You were supposed to be ready ten minutes ago."

Why had she suddenly gone all professional on him? He was 
ready, he was up. Now all he needed was...

Scully pulled him to a seated position and her face swam into focus. 

"Huh?"

"That must've been some dream, Mulder," she smiled at him, brushing 
his bangs out of his eyes. "Care to tell me about it?" One brow 
rose in question.

"I don't know if I can, Scully." Mulder hoped she wouldn't look him 
over too closely as he was still experiencing what he now realized 
had been quite the fantasy.

As he tried to meet her eyes, he thought he caught the glimmer of 
reflected light on what appeared to be the skimpiest top he'd ever 
seen her wear in public.

~*~Happy Halloween~*~