From: agnewdt Date: Mon, 30 Aug 1999 10:52:31 +0100 Subject: NEW: Chemical (1/3) by D. Agnew (MSR) Okay to archive as long as the story remains unaltered and my name is still on the story. Please let me know if you're going to archive the story. Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended. Spoilers: All seasons are fair game. Assume Biogenesis hasn't happened yet. Rating: R verging on NC-17 Classification: X and UST with a heavy dollop of LUST. Author's Note: To my friend Spygirl, who begged me for an X-File. Hope you enjoy! This piece goes farther with the characters than I said I'd go. Something sent me over the edge. Must be six years of Moose and Squirrel UST. Summary: What happens when Mulder and Scully discover the meaning of chemical "balance?" Chemical (1/3) By Denise A. Agnew danovelist@yahoo.com Sunday, 11:45am Scully fumbled with the radio as she drove through the pouring rain. With the wretched weather jangling her nerves, she needed mellow music. Anything to take the edge off. Mulder's call had woken her out of a long, heady sleep. After dragging herself from bed reluctantly, she had grumbled a little as she dressed, slammed down breakfast and ventured into the tempest. She couldn't believe the steam bath that had captured the city for a week. Heat waves drifted off the pavement, curling upward into the sky. Ominous clouds had settled over the metropolis all morning until they'd burst over the heavens. With rain cascading like a waterfall, streets became treacherous and driving damn right crazy. People acted like they had never seen rain before. God help them when winter arrived. Slow progress through the streets meant it would take her twice as long to get to the office. Locating a station that played Vivaldi, she settled into her seat with a sigh. The windshield wipers scraped back and forth with an annoying squeak. Maybe the "Rain King" had come into town. She smiled wryly. The last time she'd seen rain this wretched had been at that damned prom. The place where she'd thought a little too long and a little too hard about love. Who could avoid it? She'd never expected to be a counselor to a woman blind to love, but she'd never expected Mulder to be an advisor for the lovelorn either. She snorted. Mulder wouldn't know amour if it landed on him strapped to the side of a U.F.O. She smiled just the tiniest bit. Mulder had been acting bizarre all week. As she came to a stoplight, she pondered how he'd started last week. He'd brought her a small present. MULDER bringing her a present. It made no sense at all. He'd handed her a white carnation that he said he'd bought from a flower vendor on the corner. He also claimed the thing had spoken to him. "Buy me," Mulder had squeaked in a falsetto voice as he'd handed her the flower. "The damn thing used telepathy, Scully." She'd been speechless, unable to voice appreciation until she'd rummaged for a vase. When her voice returned, all she'd managed had been a weak thank you. Tuesday he'd escalated the assault. At least she wanted to call it an assault. Nothing else explained how her senses had responded to his gesture. They'd been standing by the filing cabinet. She'd been trying to show him something in a file. Her hair had flopped over her face. Mulder had reached up and pushed the tendril back, his fingers brushing her cheek as he'd tucked the hair behind her ear. The touch of his flesh over hers had made a violent tremor cascade through her. Immediately she'd looked up, and a hot blush had warmed her entire body. Mulder's look...his concentration on her had been so intense she'd almost dropped a file. A car honked behind her and she jerked alert. The light was green. Mortified that she'd allowed herself to sink into a state of "no mind," she pushed the accelerator and shot away. Disgusted with herself, she kept her concentration on her driving. Still, she remembered what had happened last Wednesday. She'd had a dinner to go to at her mother's house, and she'd changed before leaving work. The black dress had been cut a little shorter than she'd wear professionally, and the neckline dipped lower than she'd wear as a rule. When she'd said goodbye to Mulder for the evening, he'd taken one glance at her and his eyes had widened, his lips parting and a flicker of total male interest glazing his face. "Scully," he'd whispered as he stood and walked toward her. "You ought to save that dress for a hot date." "I don't have a hot date," she'd managed to say as she edged away from him. "You SHOULD." He'd followed and she'd stopped finally, feeling stupid for dancing away from him. "I've got to go, Mulder." Unable to take his scrutiny, she'd smiled and rushed out of the office with promises to see him the next day. Thursday and Friday he'd given her lingering looks, as if he wanted to explore her mind, and the caressing gaze in his eyes had assessed her body. If she'd wanted to she could press sexual harassment charges. He had made her uncomfortable, but this last week hadn't been unique. For six damn long years he'd made her crazy. Crazy to the point she wanted to scream. Scream and kick and ask him to do something. Anything to relieve this odd pressure...this incredible need she couldn't define...didn't want to define. Worse yet, she knew in the back of her psyche she couldn't have pressed harassment charges on him because his gestures made her uncomfortable in an entirely different way. She could deny that his attention made her feel...wanted. Special. Cared for. Shit on a stick. She LIKED what he'd been doing...saying...how he'd looked at her. Loved it. Wanted more. Craved it. Vivaldi stopped with a flourish of violins and the radio announcer spoke in a nasal tone. "Well, folks, it looks like we're in for a long, nasty day here in the D.C. area. Brace for the worst. Severe thunderstorms are covering the area. The weather service is predicting rough weather for the next twenty-four hours. Expect gale force winds in some areas. Keep the candles available in case of electricity outages. If you don't have to go out in this, don't." Scully squinted through the rain. "Thanks for telling me NOW." Of course, if Mulder hadn't given into another hair-brained scheme, she wouldn't be out in this crap. He'd insisted he had to talk to her about some theory and that he couldn't do it on the phone. He'd mumbled some crud about needing to test the waters once and for all. She'd test his waters all right. Maybe she'd tell him where to get off! Eventually she made it to FBI headquarters, and when she ventured into the building, the weather seemed to chase her inside. Electricity seemed to dance over her skin like goose bumps. She knew it didn't make sense. She shouldn't be able to feel the static down here in the bowels of the FBI, but the electric atmosphere glittered and jumped inside her, firecrackers in her stomach. Scully edged Mulder's door open, reluctant to face him on a gloomy, hot day. Taking a deep breath, she went in the office and closed the door. Mulder looked up from his paperwork for two seconds, then back down. "Bout time." Her eyebrows shot up as she slowly approached his desk. Inside her stomach rolled with a funny, almost forgotten sensation. No, not forgotten. Put away for days at a time until she extracted it and examined it. She sighed. She didn't have time for this manipulation. "Never look a gift horse in the mouth, Mulder. I had to break away from something important for this." He straightened, his bland expression turning curious by subtle degrees. "Breakfast in bed?" "In case you hadn't noticed, it is raining-" "Kitties and puppies?" She frowned and paused in front of his desk. "Did you finish that progress report for Skinner yet?" As she stood before his desk, she experienced the power of towering over him. He moved back, scuttling almost like a scared crab. He propped his feet on the side of the desk, and she noticed for the first time he wore a dark blue polo shirt and jeans. She'd thrown on a short sleeve sweater and matching blue skirt. Instead of answering, his gaze cruised over her with studied interest. A barely concealed smile curved one corner of his mouth. "Nice outfit, Scully." She looked down and held her arms out a ways from her body, half expecting to see a stain or other abnormality gracing the fabric. "What's wrong with it?" He made a scoffing noise. "Not a damn thing." Heat gathered in her face, and she swallowed hard. That again. Mulder was flirting with her wasn't he? "Oh." She swallowed again. "Back to the subject at hand. Have you completed that progress report on the Tanner case? Skinner wanted it ASAP." "Don't you just hate it when people use that word? ASAP? I mean it's pretentious as hell." She sighed. "Did you finish it?" "No. What is the rush?" She crossed her arms and tilted her nose up. "You couldn't be bothered to finish the last two reports until Skinner-" "Yeah, I know. I'm sorry." Contrition turned to a scowl as he leaned back in his chair. "Not exactly a banner time to run off and write a report. You'd been shot." She didn't like being reminded again of her brush with death. Another brush with death. Alfred Fellig had almost taken her life moments before he'd given it. Apologizing to Mulder didn't feel right. He'd used guilt on her before. This time it wouldn't work. She crossed her arms and shifted her weight. "Why did you ask me to come here, Mulder?" He blinked and rose from his chair slow and smooth. As his muscles moved against his shirt, that stinging prickle traveled electrically once again, tugging at her until she sucked in her stomach muscles. Moving around to the front of his desk, he leaned against it until his butt rested on the edge. Mirroring her stance, he crossed his arms and gazed at her with studied nonchalance. His biceps curved, hard and powerful looking. She licked her lips and tried to ignore the pleasure looking at him gave her. Long ago she'd acknowledged Mulder was a unique man. Before she'd met him she could have walked down a street, passed him and never looked twice at him. He wasn't drop-dead gorgeous. But he'd grown on her until everything about him appealed her on a cellular level. Even his annoying habits had coalesced into a package she struggled NOT to find compelling. Now, if she admitted it to herself, the man drove her crazy in more ways than one. He made her itch. He made her burn. Standing here in front of her with that sickeningly nonchalant smile... Face it, she thought. He's so damned good looking he makes me ache. "Why did YOU come here?" he asked softly. The silk and sandpaper in his voice added to the heat in her abdomen. "You asked me to." Closing his eyes for a second, he pursed his lips in that quick, silly way before allowing his mobile mouth to form a small grin. He opened his eyes and gazed directly into her eyes. "I want you-" The lights blinked out and left them in total darkness. End of Part One Chemical (2/3) By Denise A. Agnew danovelist@yahoo.com X-Files Office Sunday, 12:15am Scully instinctively reached out for Mulder and clasped his forearm. "Damn," he muttered into the darkness. "What the hell?" At first she thought he might be complaining about her grabbing his arm, but the she realized he was referring to the sudden darkness. He straightened and her fingers slipped down his arm; she lost contact. For a weird, disjointed moment she experienced lightheadedness, as if she'd floated into space without a tether, forever disconnected from her roots. "Mulder," she whispered. "The emergency lights aren't coming on." "Can you reach your flashlight?" He moved away from her and she heard a hollow thud. He cursed. "What happened?" "Ran into the coat rack." More flumbling. More shuffling. The sound of a desk drawer sliding open. Finally she heard him mumble. "What's wrong?" she asked. A clicking noise. "Batteries are dead." "Don't you have any spares?" "No." More shuffling, more sliding noises of feet searching for purchase on the floor, the uncertainty of sudden blindness showing through his steps. She took slow steps in the direction of the door, peering into the darkness as if she might obtain a glimmer of light in which to navigate. "It's pitch black in here." "No kidding. When did you first notice?" She made an aggravated sound in her throat. "Mulder." "Why the hell didn't the emergency lights come on?" he asked again. She ran into the wall or the door with a grunt. "Ow." His steps, swifter now, echoed over the floor. "What happened?" "What do you think happened?" Before she could turn around she heard him close to her and then they collided with an audible "oof." His hands landed next to her on the wall, his body pressed against her back, providing a warmth that made her suck in her breath. "Sorry," he said, grunting as his hands clasped her shoulders. She tried to step back, certain he didn't like the closeness any more than she did. He drove that thought out of her head with his next move. He slipped an arm around her waist and brought her lightly against him. "Why Scully, I never knew you felt that way about me." "What are you doing?" she gasped, moving forward until she touched the cold wall. He shifted closer until he pressed her lightly against the wall. "We are full of questions today aren't we?" "Mulder, we need to get some light on this subject." His breath touched her ear and she realized then how close his mouth was to her ear. "Why?" "We can't stay here. We can't stand here like this and wait for the lights to come on." She heard the desperation in her voice and wondered how he'd interpret it. "Are you frightened?" His question puffed against the back of her neck. A delicate shivered worked its clever way through her body and centered along her back. "Of course not? Why would I be frightened?" He let out an uncharacteristic laugh that came from deep in his chest and rumbled out soft and husky. Her knees wobbled and she leaned back against him. "You okay?" he asked. "I would be if you'd..." "If I would what?" The soft, slumberous tone of his voice unraveled her, bringing heat to places that shouldn't be hot right now. She ought to flee. Better yet, she should tell him to get the hell away from her. His behavior...her behavior verged on unprofessional. No, not verged. They'd just crossed the line. "Mulder, what are you-" "The storm. Can't you feel it?" "Feel what?" Breathless, she could barely speak. His hands slid down until they rested lightly on her hips. "I asked you here to test a theory. To see if I could control my..." She still didn't understand. "What?" His hands moved again, until they clasped her shoulders, sliding along clothing and skin with a gentleness that made her pause. She couldn't think here in the darkness with him touching her. Every time they'd shared an embrace it had been in the heat of trauma or comfort. Her brain felt fuzzy and short-circuited, as if the electricity outside...the storm...had fried her intellect and molded it into Swiss cheese. "I felt it this morning," he said so softly she barely heard him. But she felt him. He pressed his hips against her and she stiffened. OH MY GOD. He nestled lightly against her. "The gunmen had called me last week to warn me that hundreds of people had been feeling certain...urges since the heat wave began. Primitive feelings they couldn't control. Didn't want to control. Odd, unexplainable...needs." "Needs?" "Needs." "Such as?" Her mouth felt sandbox dry and she cleared her throat. "They think the weather patterns may be an experiment. Something controlled by someone or something sinister." The absurdity of his assertion cut through the sensual haze. "That is improbable and not worth thinking about, Mulder." "Then how do you explain this?" "What?" she asked, impatience lacing her voice. Seconds later his hot breath sluiced across her neck and she felt the collar of her dress pushed away as his fingers traced over her collar bone. OH MY GOD. "Why I've been having strange feelings? All last week I kept feeling...wanting things I shouldn't want. Wishing to do things that I wasn't sure you'd want." His fingers slipped over her skin. I've...you're...you're so soft. I never realized how soft." His tender touch continued, and she let the pleasant shivers trickle through her like hot honey. "What are you doing?" "You ask me that way too much, Scully. Haven't you got anything else to ask me?" No. She couldn't ask him what she wanted to know. Everything had just gone sunny side up. She shivered, but whether it came from cold or heat she couldn't be sure. His warmth seeped through her clothes and the hardness of his muscles cradled her. Without thinking she turned, and he had to move back to let her face him. He did give her room, but by the time she'd turned around he pressed against her from chest to thigh and every place in between. Her palms landed on his firm chest, and she thought he sucked in a breath. Startled by the security and the rightness she experienced, drew her hands back immediately and pressed them against the wall next to her. This was insanity. They'd both let darkness and insecurity bring them together. Her mind raced for scientific explanations, but nothing formed in the riot inside her brain. Synapses disconnected, jerked, combined as she strained to make sense as his fingers brushed along her neck again. Finally he cupped her face with that hand, lingering along her cheekbone like he had earlier in the week. He'd been building this up for a week, no doubt. Six years of suppressed innuendo. Hell, no. Six years of almost intolerable sexual tension and feelings rose within her, boiling over until they hovered on the edge...teetering...teetering... "I felt it," he said again as he slid his arm around her waist and pulled her away from the wall and against him. She let her fingers fall on his chest. "When I got up this morning. No...that is not quite true. I felt it a week ago, when the rain and the heat came." "Humidity." His fingers tightened on her waist, then she felt his breath on her lips. OH. OH. He meant to...he would soon... "No. Not humidity. Electricity. Like St. Elmo's fire." "You saw it?" "I felt it...I feel it." "A tingling all over your body?" That low, seductive chuckle filled her world and she knew his lips were closer. "That's one way of putting it, Scully." Suddenly he shifted and that hard mouth touched her cheek and trailed like gossamer across her skin until it reached her neck. His lips moved against her skin as he spoke. "This is another." End of Part Two Chemical (3/3) By Denise A. Agnew "Mulder," Scully whispered, gasping as she sank against him, allowing him to bear some of her weight as he cradled her close. His fingers slid into her hair and cupped the back of her head as his mouth did crazy things to her neck. Nothing made sense as her world tilted and floated. Part of her felt she'd had this powerful intimacy once before...twice before...dozens of times. Where? When? Yes, he'd held her in the hallway that one time and had almost kissed her. Yet this felt so right, so stunning and yet normal in every wayl. Without balance she leaned into him, offering her throat to him like a vampire's victim. But unlike a vampire, Mulder's explorations fluttered gently against her skin, heightening her senses until she heard his exhalations and his gathering speed. Yes. Drunken and heady, she reeled on the emotions colliding within her as his lips touched her cheeks again and grazed over her skin lightly until he tasted the skin only an inch from her mouth. A single gasp exited from her again, and he took advantage. Oh, yeah. He could tell he'd turned on the one thing that she hadn't admitted to in many years. Couldn't admit to. Wouldn't. A barely audible groan parted his lips as he kissed a tender path to her other ear. She inhaled sharply as his teeth nipped gently at the lobe. "It's all perfectly explainable," he said without pause. "Don't you feel it, too? Like heat and moisture and excitement all wrapped into one. It makes me want to do things." As his mouth reached her temple and pressed a series of delicate kisses against her skin, she clutched at his shirt, grabbing for purchase. Instead she loosened his polo shirt and it began to slide from the waistband of his jeans. "Do what things?" she asked, her voice husky. "Unmentionable. Unmentionable." He sighed and tilted his body into her, tightening his hold as he walked her back against the wall once again. His hand went to just along her ribs, taunting her with forays that promised something far more intimate but didn't deliver. "Why?" "It's chemical. Damn right uncontrollable. They warned me. Frohike said people have been acting crazy this week and he's right. He said it would drive us to do odd things." "This IS very odd, Mulder." His mouth held above hers, and she wanted to reach up and yank his head down. Wanted to scream. Finish it. Finish me, damn it. Instead she didn't move as he smoothed his palm over her hip again, then pushed his hand around until he grasped one cheek of her buttocks. The amazing intimacy shocked her, even though it shouldn't have. She stiffened, then relaxed as he moved onto her waist and then up to equally personal territory. "Odd." His voice cracked and deepened. "An aberration." "An abomination." "How many words start with ab?" "What?" "How...how many words start with a and b?" "Dozens. Thousands. I don't know." She wanted to say she didn't give a royal shit. But her vocabulary ran to the more formal. She didn't need to resort to cursing, but right now she was as close as she'd ever been to throwing everything to the wind. Who gave a damn? He touched her stomach and she gasped again. "Abdomen." "I'm glad you've got that straight," she said, pressing against his hand as his fingers moved over the stretchy fabric. She might as well have been naked for all the protection it provided. "More," he said. "More?" "Words. Anything to keep me sane. I'm loosing it." "Loosing your mind?" "My mind. My control." Did she want him to stay in control? She was certain she'd lost control from the moment the lights had extinguished. Maybe his theory could be correct. What if something odd in the air had caused them to act like horny teenagers in the backseat of a car? Maybe she could exert command and stop this craziness before it imploded. "Abner," she said. "Little Abner?" "Uh-huh?" "Maybe we could talk about cases..." "Which ones?" He gasped as she shoved her hand under his polo shirt and her small, cool hand landed on his washboard stomach. He quivered and the automatic movement rippled through his entire body. She lingered on his pectorals, and sensed the swift intake in his breathing, the firm, delectable hardness of his muscles. She caressed his stomach, hovering dangerously around the waistband of his jeans. She could...oh yeah, she could just... With supreme effort she jerked her hand away. He retaliated by shifting until his hips pressed just...there... "Oh, God." The words parted her lips and she couldn't take them back. She couldn't remember ever uttering them in pleasure before. She scrambled to think clear and concise, but her thoughts scattered like rabbits on the run. Mulder uttered something incoherent and pressed again until he'd set up a rhythm that Scully could mistake for nothing else. "That writer...the man who tried to tear your heart out." "No. Don't. I don't want to think about it. I-" "The mushroom from hell that almost consumed us-" "No." He tasted her ear in a way that made her quiver and her arms reached up until she clasped him around the neck. Now his arms came around her entirely. A wedge of light couldn't have come between them...even if there had been light. And still he maintained the torturous seduction movement, driving her higher with each subtle oscillation until she heard her panting breath. One of those bone-rattling shivers wracked his body. She smoothed her hand along his cheek. "Cold?" "Huh. Freezing to death." The words came out before she could stop them. "Then you'd better get warm." "Help me, Scully. Keep talking about the cases." "I can't. I don't..." How could she talk...think when he kept on doing THAT. What remained of her common sense made her wish she could see his expression. Would he look as dazed as she felt? "Go with it, Scully. I'm trying to save us." Did he mean she should shoot to the moon? Let the growing tingling, accelerating sensation capture her and send her up like a rocket? Or did he mean she needed to mention another case? She decided to err on the side of caution. "Those cockroaches," she said. "Bambi?" "Black widow." "Huh?" Scully broke down and stood on tiptoe, pulling his head down so she could reach his ear. Without biting too hard, she nipped his ear. He clutched her to him, practically lifting her off her feet. A shivering laugh escaped him. "What was that for?" "She would have bitten you, mated with you, then eaten you for an after sex snack." "What would you do to me, Scully?" She would have answered, but suddenly his mouth was there...against the corner of her mouth. Then he covered her lips with his own and the last bit of sanity she had left slid like soap down the drain. Gone. Kaput. All the stories she'd figured were false...all those that told her with the right man she'd feel the earth move and the stars explode... Surprise, surprise. They were all true. Unless, of course, this was all chemical. A conspiracy. As his lips moved tenderly over hers, she responded. Hungrily. Without restraint for once in her life. He took her mouth, tasting without mercy as she arched against him and rode out the rising tension. It throbbed along her veins with each heartbeat, clamoring and racing for somewhere to go as he deepened the kiss. His tongue met hers and a new rhythm started. Once again her senses heightened until she felt the muscles in his arms bunch with power, his thighs shifting against hers, his breath hitching and expanding as their arousal drove them onward. Her breasts ached and tingled and she wanted him to touch them, too. Eager and impatient, she wanted to end years of denial in a single heartbeat. End it. End it. End it. If all this was chemical, a reaction to cosmic forces, drugs, or aliens she didn't give a damn. She had it all. She had to have it NOW. Mulder in her arms. In her heart. And, God willing, she'd have him in her body before too long... She simply couldn't stand it any longer! The lights exploded in her head and her eyes flew open. Bright, florescent lighting flickered and charged and flared to life. Startled she yanked back and his arms fell away as he came alert with surprise. And in that sudden force back to reality, she saw what she'd wanted to see not so long ago. Mulder's totally glazed, totally passionate gaze. "Scully," he whispered. Dumbfounded, she reached up and touched her hair. Then she palmed her face and noted the heat in her skin. "What did we just do?" A smile darted over his lips, then disappeared. "What DIDN'T we almost do?" A spark of old Scully irritation electrified her. She stepped forward until she almost touched him nose to nose. "Cut the crap, Mulder. What just happened?" "Thanks. I thought it was more memorable than that." Old worries, old denials rose to the ugly surface. She couldn't...not in the blazing, blatant glare of florescent tubing. No. She crossed her arms for protection. "It's not that...I...just..." "Maybe it's stopped raining?" "What?" Baffled by his logic, she squinted at him. He started toward the door, removing her from the heat of being close to him. "Let's go outside." She followed him, as she had on many cases, wondering where the trail would lead. This time she wanted to deny the final evidence, but didn't see how she could. Unless the last few minutes had been nothing but a dream. No. Dreams didn't have this power. When they stepped into outdoors, she couldn't believe the temperature difference. Instead of blazing heat, the air fluttered silky and cool against her still hot skin. In fact, the rain had stopped and the clouds had begun to part. She gazed at Mulder in surprise. "Incredible." "Maybe Frohike was right. Perhaps it was--" "A chemical reaction to overload of heat and electricity? Just like the lights in the building?" He nodded. His gaze told her something different, but like many things in their lives, they didn't seem ready to move to the next step. They'd already broken the rules, broken the boundaries of anything they could have imagined when they met each other six years ago. He shrugged. "Guess that solves the case." She twisted her lips and bit the side of her mouth for a second. "Guess so." "I could use a hot cup of coffee. You game?" A small smile flickered and held on her lips. "Strong, black coffee. No sugar." He snorted. "Definitely NO sugar." As they walked silently back into the building, Mulder glanced at her sideways. "Got a breath mint?" She gave him a look of mock affront. "No. Why did you think I'd have any?" "No reason. I just hoped." "Why?" He chuckled. "You're back into that analytical mode again, I see." "I was never out of it." "Yeah. Right." He took her arm and stopped her. She was forced to stand close to him again, but this time they were in the hall where anyone might come upon them. "Don't close me out, Scully?" Sincerity in his tone and his gaze told her he meant business. "All right." Grinning from ear to ear, he threw caution aside and slid his arm around her shoulders as they walked down the hall. "Now what's this about Bambi being a black widow spider?" A weary sigh issued from her lips. "Mulder..." The End.