From: Sara Brocious <sweetkissez37@ameritech.net>
Date: Tue, 28 Oct 2003 19:35:35 -0800 (PST)
Subject: **NEW** Consumption
Source: direct

Title -- Consumption
Author -- AgentSx42
E-Mail address -- sweetkissez37@ameritech.net
Rating -- Strong R
Category - SRA
Spoilers -- Fourth Season (to be safe)
Keywords -- Mulder/Scully Romance
Summary -- He stopped and looked down at her. 'Did you?'

 

Disclaimer: If I owned them...need I say more? Yeah, so I don't. I
don't own anything in this damn story. Well, except for maybe those
thoughts Chris Carter would never have the guts to put on the small
screen.

 

Author's note~ Ok, so I don't really think Scully slept with Ed Jerse,
and I really don't think Mulder and Scully took the plunge until the
6-7 season, but bear with me! What else am I to think of when those
damn teachers are boring me to death? Feedback is greatly appreciated,
and, um...yeah that's all. Now on with it already!

 

<>>><<<>

 

Friday nights. God bless them. It was just another night of the week
to most people, but for Mulder and Scully and their newfound torrid
romance, it was another chance to prove their love for one another.

 

It had been nearly a week since she came back from Philadelphia, a
week since words of abhorrence had flown between them. Luckily, they
were on pretty decent terms. They made up over a quiet dinner. She
still wouldn't be intimate with him, and it bothered him. A week. He
was practically living with her and they slept in the same bed,
showered in the same bathroom, and breathed the same air. He hadn't
even had the pleasure of seeing her naked since before Philadelphia.
And even before then, it was almost a week.

 

So that left Mulder sitting on the couch of Scully's apartment,
waiting for her to get home from a visit to the drugstore. She left
without warning, saying that she had a huge headache and was going to
get some aspirin. That was before she accused Mulder of using all the
Tylenol left in the house for his own godforsaken purposes. Hey,
what's a man to do when he has a headache? Or a backache? Or...wait.
She was accusing him of using all of her Tylenol? What in the hell was
he supposed to do when her bad temper and bitchy attitude reared their
ugly head every month, when he got headaches worse then her cramps?
Tsk tsk...

 

He tried watching TV. It was no use. There wasn't a damn thing on TV
that could cure him of Scully withdrawal, especially when she had been
throwing little innuendoes at him all day at work. It had taken all of
his self-control (what little he had left) to not throw her down on
his desk and take her right there. They had done that once and ended
up leaving work that day with a few bruises, and cuts to her legs and
his back, which resulted in a laughing fit and clothes strewn about
the office. No more of that.

 

He tried getting online, but to no avail, Scully's internet service
was down. So he went back to the TV. The Simpson's was on, so he
settled on that. Just when he got comfortable on the couch, the door
burst open and a sopping wet Scully tumbled into the room. She caught
herself and threw down her bag, the Tylenol rattling in the bottle as
it went flying across the room.

 

"Jesus Christ, Scully. What in the hell?" Mulder asked, getting up
from the couch to help Scully.

 

Scully leaned against the door and tried to control her breathing.
"It's raining and lightening like hell out there. And thundering.
Scared the shit out of me."

 

"I could have told you that."

 

"Maybe so. I'm going to bed."

 

"Scully..." he whined, "it's 10:00. Stay up with me." He held out his
arms and made a face at her, trying to convince her to stay with him.

 

"Come to bed with me..." she mock-whined.

 

"Not tired. Go on, I suppose. I'll be in a little bit."

 

She walked toward and kissed him goodnight. He, however, wasn't ready
for her to go to bed.

 

"Mulder...maybe another time. I'm dead."

 

"Okay. I love you."

 

"I love you more..." she yelled to him as she made her way to her
bedroom.

 

Mulder, defeated, lay back down on the couch and watched TV for little
while. He must have been watching TV for at least twenty minutes
before he heard it. The sultry, seductive come-hither tone that could
only belong to one person.

 

"Mulder," it said.

 

He jerked up and looked toward the hall. Sure enough, Scully was
standing there, wearing a robe. She was leaning against the wall,
giving him a pouty look. 

 

"Scully? I thought you were sleeping."

 

"I couldn't fall asleep."

 

"Come out and lay with me," he suggested.

 

"Why don't...you come with me?"

 

He couldn't deny her anything.

 

Mulder followed her back to her room. When he got in the door and
turned toward her, Scully had dropped her robe. And she wasn't wearing
anything underneath. 

 

"Scully," he began.

 

"Shh..." she said, putting her fingers to his mouth. She walked him
backward until he fell onto the bed. He scooted up until his head was
on a pillow. That was when Scully jumped him, straddling his hips,
grinding hers against his straining erection. He nearly jumped off the
bed.

 

"Ahhh...Scully..."

 

"Shh...Mulder," she hissed between her teeth. She quickly divested him
of his boxers, sliding them down his lean legs. Runner's legs. She
loved his legs. 

 

With his boxers gone, she teased him. She ran her hands up his
muscular torso and raked her nails down again. His hands on her hips,
holding her to him, never wanting to let her, this moment, go. They
gently swept up the smooth, soft skin of her back, under her shoulder
blades, and he pulled her down to him.

 

She kissed him with zeal, drinking him for all he was worth. And that,
that was a lot. Scully ran her tongue over his delicious bottom lip
before sucking it into her mouth. Mulder moaned and flipped them over
so that he was covering her small body with his own. He began to slide
down her body, stopping at her breasts to tease them, taking one taut
nipple into his mouth and running his wonderfully talented tongue over
it several times before she pulled his head away. He continued his
journey downward, kissing his way down the creamy expanse of her
stomach, placing a gentle kiss on the curls that awaited him even
further down.

 

Parting her ever so slightly, he blew a cool breath on her, making her
squirm with delight above him. The hand that was lying on the bed was
on in hers, and he twined his fingers with hers. Her hips rose up off
the bed when his tongue came into contact with her little bundle of
nerves, sending her skyrocketing. But then he did it. He stopped.

 

"Mulder..." Scully moaned between breaths. "Please..."

 

Instead of answering her, he slithered up her slender body to that
poised within millimeters of sliding in her hungry body.

 

"Please Mulder..."

 

Mulder held himself up on his forearms and looked down at her.
Scully's face was contorted with pleasure. Her eyes were half open, as
was her mouth, and her lips were swollen from him kissing her. A thin
sheen of sweat had broken out on her chest, as did a slight blush. She
was beautiful. And she was his for the taking. 

 

He lowered his head to hers and kissed her softly on the lips, then
more passionately. Scully held onto him; on hand on the back of his
head, the other on his firm, toned back. The skin was so smooth there,
and she loved to touch him there. Hell, she loved to touch him
anywhere, anytime, for any reason. 

 

So he did them both a favor and slid home. Under his, she closed her
eyes and relished in the feeling. He set a slow rhythm and Scully
arched her body underneath his, trying to get maximum contact. She
draped her legs over his, dragging them upward until they were around
his waist. 

 

Mulder, however, was a little distracted. There was one thing that was
still wrong. He couldn't get the nagging question out of his mind. It
might as well been the reason Scully wouldn't let him love her
physically for almost two weeks. Maybe, just maybe, she was getting
over her guilt and shame.

 

He stopped and looked down at her. "Did you?"

 

Scully's eyes didn't open immediately. But when they did, she looked
frightened of Mulder. At first, she played dumb.

 

"What?" she asked, her eyes searching his eyes, his face, a confused
look spreading across her own. She brought her hands down to his
sides, then up over his shoulders to his biceps and they settled
there.

 

Trying to regulate his breathing instead of the harsh gasps it was
coming out in, Mulder stared her down. "You know...what I...mean,
Scully."

 

The look of innocence was wearing thin. "I don't know...what you
mean...Mulder." She tried to avert her eyes, but it was no use. She
was lost in his beautiful, intense gaze.

 

"Don't lie to me, Scully. Don't you dare...lie to me."

 

Their bodies were connected in every possible way, but not
spiritually, or emotionally. Their souls weren't with the act.

 

"Did you sleep with him?" Mulder demanded. They still hadn't moved
from the time he stopped moving.

 

Scully smiled and ran her hand along his shoulder and around his back.
"Mulder..." 

 

"Answer me, damn it!" he bellowed. That wiped the smirk off her face.
The hands that had been placed under her shoulders and that were
holding her to him harshly grasped her, more and more with each
increase in the volume of his voice. She trembled in his arms. 

 

She was terrified of Mulder.

 

Scully remained silent, and lowered her eyes. He won. The secret was
out. Tears began to well up in her eyes, and when she looked at him
again, it was a terrifying sight. He looked like he wanted to kill
her.

 

"I'm so sorry, Mulder..."

 

But it was no use. He pulled out of her body so quick that she moaned
aloud, grasping at the bed sheets. He sat on the edge of the bed and
rested his arms on his elbows, and resting his hand in his hands,
running his hands through his hair. How could he be so stupid?

 

Behind him, Scully was still sprawled upon the bed, naked, vulnerable.
She sobbed and clung to the sheets. Mulder could smell her everywhere.
It was so painful. 

 

He stood up and turned to the bed where Scully was crying. "Don't cry!
Why are you crying? You did this all to yourself!"

 

She sat up and looked up at him. He was bent over in one stride,
taking a hold of her arms. 

 

"Why, Scully? Why? You made me believe that you loved me!" he roared,
and shook her defenseless form.

 

"I do love you!"

 

"Do you? Because I don't think you know what love is! Love is two
people being committed to each other, trusting each other explicitly,
being faithful and loyal to one another! Love is not sleeping with a
guy who claims his tattoo can talk when you had somebody at home who
loved you more than life itself!"

 

"I know what love is, Mulder! I couldn't help myself!" she cried,
still sobbing.

 

And then Mulder did the one thing he vowed he would never do. He
inflicted bodily harm on her. She wasn't prepared was his hand
striking her tear-streaked face. 

 

Scully fell back onto the bed, and immediately, Mulder regretted what
he did.

 

Almost.

 

"What could that psycho give you that I couldn't, Scully?"

 

She had since buried her head in pillow. Mulder grabbed her arm and
jerked her upright again.

 

"Mulder please...stop...please..." she pleaded between sobs.

 

"What was it, Scully?" he shouted, making her flinch.

 

"I don't know!"

 

"What the hell does that mean? You just slept with him for the hell of
it?"

 

"I lost control, Mulder! I lost my faith in you and found Ed Jerse! He
relieved the stress, the pain, the longing..."

 

"You lost your faith in me? Me? I'm the most faithful person you'll
ever meet! You don't see me going around, sleeping with strange men,
or in my case, women! So don't pull that shit on me!"

 

"I was just looking for a release..."

 

"You didn't and still don't know anything about this guy! He could
have killed you ever before he tried! Do know what would happen to me
if you we killed?"

 

"I can only imagine..."

 

"I would be broken. And knowing that it was while you were with
another man would only break me further, to the point where I would be
hanging on by a thread, because I would feel guilty, for not being
able to give you something that this other person supposedly had."

 

She wouldn't look at him. She couldn't.

 

"I'm getting out of here," declared Mulder, and he began to look for
his clothes from that day. 

 

Scully got up, too, and went for her robe where it lay on the floor.
When Mulder turned around again, he noticed something on the lower
right hand side of her back. It marred her creamy skin. It was a
tattoo.

 

Mulder immediately rushed to her and grabbed her arm, stopping her.
She let out a gasp of surprise and almost whirled around to see what
he wanted now, but he held her still. Kneeling behind her, Mulder ran
his hand down her arm and across her back, gently probing the
ouroboros. His fingers trace the pattern, and he is mesmerized. This
is Scully's worst fear. She didn't want him seeing this. This is the
pitfall were it all goes to hell.

 

"You got a tattoo..."

 

Scully holds her head up high and from behind the tears comes
confidence. "Yes."

 

"With Ed Jerse."

 

"Yes."

 

"Do you regret it, Scully?"

 

"No."

 

"What about sleeping with him?"

 

Mulder stands up and Scully turns around to face him. She's still very
naked, compared to Mulder, who had his pants and shirt on. She stares
at him, and an understanding is made.

 

"Yes. Of course I do. Wouldn't you?"

 

He doesn't respond. Of course he would. Instead, Mulder put his face
close to hers, cheek to cheek, tenderly kissed her cheek, her jaw, her
neck, and her shoulder before whispering, "I love you, Scully. When
you are ready to love me, I'll be waiting." He had put his hands on
her waist before kissing her, and he now took those hands away from
her. He brushed past her and walk out of the room, leaving her to
stand there with tears in her eyes. 

 

She spun around. "Wait."

 

Mulder turned around to face her.

 

"I love you. I'm ready and willing to show you how much."

 

Still, he didn't move.

 

"I understand that I made a mistake, and I admit that I can't take it
back, but it was under the influence of alcohol and it had no meaning.
When I went to Philadelphia, I left my heart in DC."

 

"I can't forgive something like this."

 

"I'm not asking for forgiveness."

 

Mulder walked toward Scully's naked form. He touched her shoulder, and
he ran his hand down her arm until it met her hand. He twined their
fingers together and bent over her, bringing their lips together. They
kissed the kiss of unfaithful lovers, of broken hearts, and shattered
trust.

 

Shirt. Belt. Pants. Boxers. And at last, he was as naked as her.

 

He laid her down on the bed and crawled on top of her crying form.

 

He feathered her face in kisses, her chest, her shoulders.

 

He slid home. Again. For the second time that night, they moaned in
unison at the completion of their bodies.

 

The rhythm was slow, but steady, and soon was built up to be a
comfortable pace. When Scully came, she lifted her head off the
pillow, crying in earnest now, and bit Mulder's shoulder, his next.
There was a metallic tang in her mouth. Blood. His blood was on her
tongue, and she had never tasted anything to sweet. When he climaxed,
he lowered his head to the crook of her neck and bit down hard. a
metallic substance assaulted his senses. Blood. Her blood was on his
tongue, and he had never tasted anything so sweet. They had truly
consumed each other.

 

He lay spent on her body, his head resting on her chest. She had yet
to stop crying, as had he. They clung to each other, as they had
before consuming each other, as though they would fall from grace if
they let go. And they would.

 

No words were spoken since Scully stated she wasn't asking for
forgiveness. Just moans and whimpers, sobs, and sighs. 

 

Scully ran her hands over his strong back, and he ran his hand over
her side continuously. When his hand stopped and his breathing evened
out, and she was sure he was asleep, she said it. 

 

"I love you."

 

<>>><<<>