From: Diana Fowley Date: Tue, 13 Mar 2001 14:46:43 -0800 (PST) Subject: xfc: REPOST: Completely Revised: The Call, MSR, NC 17, S POV Source: xfc Title: The Call by: Agent Diana Fowley Email: agtdianafowley@yahoo.com website: www.geocities.com/agtdianafowley/index.html Category: MSR, post episode, Scully POV Keywords: MSR Rating: NC17 Spoilers: This takes place following Per Manum. Anything up until then is fair game Feedback: Mulder's having a little problem making his donation. The Call Agent Diana Fowley I pick up my phone on the second ring, "Mulder?" "Hey, Scully," his disembodied voice answers. "What's up?" I say as I sit up on my couch and pull my knees beneath me. "Nothing...," he responds sharply. There is silence on both ends until Mulder sighs. "Did everything go okay?" I ask in response to the sigh. When he doesn't answer I say, "Mulder, where are you?" "Still at the clinic," he says sounding a bit deflated. "Still?" I ask looking at my watch. He had been there over an hour. More silence. "Scully," he finally says. "When I said that nothing was up I meant...." "...nothing is up," I finish for him, then blush when I realize that we are having a conversation about Mulder's penis. I wait not knowing exactly how to respond. I'm a doctor right? I should reassure him that this happens to lots of men. I can hear his breathing and he seems to be waiting for me to say something. "Well...um..." I stammer. "What seems to be the problem." "Scully, please don't doctor me. I've had enough of medical professionals. The nurse keeps pestering me. I don't know how I'm supposed to...um...perform with them knocking on the door every five minutes." I try not to laugh but I can practically feel his frustration coming through the phone. "Okay, Mulder, really, what's the problem? I'm asking as a friend." "I don't know, Scully. I just can't!" he says in frustration. I become uncomfortable and shift on the couch. How is it possible that this conversation is turning me on? It's really been too long. "Don't they...um...have stuff there.....Inspirational stuff?" Good one. He actually does laugh at me, "You mean like those tapes that aren't mine?" I nod then realize that he can't hear my nod so I say, "Yeah, and magazines." "That's actually where I think my problem started," he begins and I sit back against the arm my couch. I am not going to have a porn conversation with Mr. Porn King. "How so?" I ask, not really knowing if I want to hear his response. "I don't know if I should be telling you this Scully." "Mulder, you're there, you're frustrated, because of me. Obviously you called me because you though it would help," I say and he makes choking sound on the other end of the line. I thought of lending Mulder a helping hand, so to speak, turns me on even more. I press my legs together to take the edge of the frustration I am feeling. "You have no idea," he says, his voice barley above a whisper. It sends a shiver down my spine when I realize it sounds like I just offered to have phone sex with him. That thought sends a thrill though my body. Phone sex with Mulder? Sex with Mulder? I almost groan but manage to contain it. Silence. I don't know how to respond to that so I decide to do what I usually do with his innuendoes, I ignore it, and my dirty thoughts and move on. "So, tell me Mulder, what about their choice in reading and viewing material is giving you a problem." "Do you really want to know?" When I don't say anything he continues, "Don't say I didn't warn you.....So, I am sitting in this small, white, sterile room getting ready to take matters into my own hands. I didn't figure it would be that hard, so to speak, but there is nothing...arousing about a room in a clinic. So, I decided to flip through the reading material. Then I start thinking about who else has also flipped through it and what they had been touching..." "Got it," I say, not really wanting to think about it but wanting to think about it all at the same time. "...so I decided that watching a video is probably safer." "Good call," I say, bringing my feet up onto the sofa and shifting down so my head is resting on the arm rest. "Thank you," he says. "Anyway, I am watching and nothing. So I try....other stuff... and still nothing. Then I start thinking about the porn stars." "I'm no 'pro,' Mulder, but isn't that what you're supposed to do?" "The guy porn stars, Scully." I really have not response of this revelation. My body responds for me with a sick feeling in my stomach. What is he trying to say? "I see," is all I can spit out. "No, Scully, not like that....I was thinking about how hard...difficult their job must be. I mean, here I am, asked to give a command performance, for a really good cause, and I just can't. Their entire income is based on getting turned on, on command." "So, your inability to perform in this particular situation has dashed you dreams of becoming a porn star?" I venture, trying to lighten the mood of this very odd conversation. "I don't know? Maybe I just gained a new respect for the difficulties of their lives. I though, you know, they had it made; good paycheck, lots of sex with hot, horny, girls. Who knew that they had it so rough...hard...you know what I mean." "So, let me get this straight, you can't....perform....because you've been too busy seeing the males in the adult film industry in a new light?" "You said you wanted to hear it." "I did, I do, it's just....God, Mulder some of the things you come up with....You really never cease to amaze me," I say with a laugh. He laughs too. God, I love the sound of his laugh, "Well, Scully, at least I can give you something to laugh about if I can't give you anything else." As I listen to his laugh I slide my arm down my body, barely grazing my nipples. They are sharp little points pressing against my pink sweater. I have to bite my lips to keep from making any noise. I keep running my hands gently up and down my body, just grazing one nipple of the other on each pass, and listen to Mulder's breath in my ear. "Mulder," I finally say. "Why don't you just leave and go back tomorrow. Maybe today isn't your day." "I don't think I could handle the embarrassment of that. I feel like I've already embarrassed myself enough just by calling you and you still haven't come up with a solution to my problem." The solutions that pop into my mine cause me to groan but I think I successfully cover it up with a cough. I consider it for a minute, "So the problem here seems to be that you are feeling inadequate compared to the porn men?" "I guess. It's sounds pretty bad when you say it." "Hmm," I say as I consider. "Would knowing that your performance would lead to sex help?" I hear gasp at my response and I feel a flush rising to my face. Oh my god! What did I just say! "I..." he squeaks. "I guess..." he says, he voice at it's normal octave. "I just....I mean...I didn't mean that I would..." I stammer. I take a deep breath and slowly let it out. "What I was thinking is that in most cases, and correct me if I'm wrong, I'm not a pro after all, but in pornographic films, don't the men usually have sex with someone. I mean, in most cases, not matter what they start out doing....doesn't it usually end in them having sex?" I wait for him to respond but instead I hear a knock at the door and a muffled voice say, "Mr. Mulder? How are things progressing?" "Fine," I hear in a muffled voice, telling me that his hand is over the mouthpiece. "Better then five minutes ago." Oh god! Could this conversation be turning him on? Before I can stop myself my hand has strayed from my breasts and is pressing against the seam of my jeans. I buck my hips at the slightest contact. I can't believe I am touching myself while I am on the phone with Mulder, but it feels to good to stop. "You were saying?" I hear him say. "Umm...I don't know..." "Something about this leading to sex....in the movies." "Yeah..." I say, my mouth completely void of moisture, though I can feel that other areas are not, even through the denim of my jeans. "I was saying that maybe you problem has to do with the fact that your performance will not lead to sex but in 'the movies' it usually does so you are not on equal footing with the actors so you shouldn't feel inadequate." It sounds like a good theory, right? "Then how do you explain the fact that I haven't had this problem before and I haven't had the prospect of sex in the last seven years or so." Is it just my over active hormones or was his voice deeper and sexier than usually? Why is the phrase 'prospect of sex' stuck in a rut in my mind? Playing over and over again? What is wrong with me? I can't take it any more. I finally unbutton and unzip my jeans and slip my hand inside. I bite my lip to keep from moaning as my fingers find there way beneath my panties and zero in on my engorged clit. "I don't know...I guess we're back to the issue of pressure." We sure were. I was certainly feeling a lot of pressure and not of an all-together unpleasant variety. "Scully," he finally says, after a moment to consider my theory. "What are you wearing?" Holy shit! How can he kid around with me? Especially when we're this conversation. It's not like we were talking about flukemen or vampires or something equally distasteful. We were talking about sex and I know we were both thinking about us having sex. I can't hold back a groan. "Scully?" he gasps at hearing my groan. I don't know what to do so I hit the talk button and throw the phone to the other end of the couch. I also quickly remove my hand from my jeans and wipe the moisture on the leg of my pants. Why did I do that? It's not like I haven't though about having sex with Mulder before. Recently I've been thinking about it a lot. How do you think I came up with the idea of asking him to donate? I kept having this vision of him and I, hot and heavy, and then a picture of a little girl with brown hair and blue eyes would flash across my mind. At first I felt bad thinking about Mulder like that. Soon I realized that thinking about him was the fastest and most satisfying way to bring myself to release. If I think about him, I wonder if he ever thinks about me? Oh God! I think as I stare at the phone. Is that why he called me? Does he get as turned on listening to my voice as I do listening to his? Does he get as turned on thinking about me as I do thinking about him? I should call him back, I think as I will the phone to ring. What should I say? Should I apologize? I realize that my clit is still throbbing and I try to shift to gain some release. Then it hits me and I pick up the phone and dial that all too familiar number. "Scully I am so sorry!" is the first thing I hear when he answers the phone. "A soft, pale pink sweater and tight blue jeans," I say, barley keeping my voice steady. "Scully, I'm sorry, you don't have to. I don't know what...." "What are you wearing?" "I serious, Scully. It was wrong of me. I just....I don't know..." He wasn't going to make this easy, but what in our relationship ever is. "You right, Mulder. I don't have to do this. Did you ever consider that maybe I want to?" "You don't, Scully. I was just, you know, caught up in the conversation." "Did it help?" "Did what help?" he asked. "The conversation?" "I really don't think I should answer that, Scully," he warned and that was answer enough for me. I am going to get him through this and I sure as hell am going to enjoy it. "Do you want me, Mulder? Have you ever thought about me? Fantasized about me? It that why you called me?" I say as I resume my original position, reclined against the arm of my sofa, legs spread, fingers messaging my wetness into the hard nub of my clit. This time I don't even try to hold back a groan. He groans in response. "Scully, you really need to stop?" My hand is too restricted to I stand and pulls of my jeans and my panties. I get resettled and gasp when I can finally get my hand in the position I so desperately need it in, my thumb pressing against my clit as I pump my fingers inside of my dripping opening. "What if I don't want to stop, Mulder. What if I think about you to? What if I want to listen so I know what you sound like when you come?" "Shit, Scully! Shit! Shit! Shit!" "Something wrong, Mulder?" I say in my most innocent voice. I press harder and begin to pump my fingers faster. He gives a nervous laugh, "Who are you and what have you done with my partner?" "I'm right here, Mulder. Do you want me to keep talking?" "God, yes, Scully but first I have to know one thing..." he says, his voice strained. "Anything?" "Now that my command performance is well underway, how are my prospects looking for the future?" "How soon can you be done?" I ask. He groans and I shift my hips so my fingers are penetrating me at a better angle. "I don't think my answer will give you an ringing endorsement of my true capabilities," he warns. I laugh. "If you get here soon, I think your prospects look pretty good." "I knew calling you would help," he says and I hang up the phone and look at my clock. If he's quick he should be here in 30 minutes. I think what he would do if he found me here like this, sprawled on my couch, hands buried between my legs, face flushed in arousal. I press harder on my clit and finally send myself over the edge. I lay there for a minute and regulate my breathing. I pull my sweater over my head and unhook my bra. I press my flushed face against the cool fabric of the sofa and see my jeans and panties lying on the floor. This gives me a wicked idea. I pick up the phone and dial Mulder's number. "This better be good, Scully," he says. His breaths are coming in pants. It sounds like he's close but not quite over the edge. "Just a flush and a smile, Mulder. That's all I'm wearing." He groans and I hear a thud as his phone lands on the floor. Then I hear a the longer moan and heavy breathing of his orgasm. I hang up the phone and head for my bedroom. I hope he has enough sense to let himself in, cause I certainly can't answer the door wearing this.