Date: 17 Nov 1995 20:19:45 GMT From: "joan the english chick" Subject: NEW: "Equal and Opposite" (NC-17) Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative This is my last story post for a while...I can't write much because of RSI. But sometimes ya start thinking about Mulder and Scully, and ya just gotta go write something... ;) Anyway, enjoy. Once again, low on plot, high on sex. :) -joan the english chick Equal and Opposite Standard disclaimers: the characters are owned by Chris Carter, 10-13 Productions and Fox; everything else is mine. If you're under 18, avert your eyes now. Scully hit the wrong key, her computer beeped, and she smacked the keyboard in frustration. She felt a wave of annoyance rise in her chest and took a deep breath, willing it away. But it was too late: across the room Mulder looked up. "Something wrong, Scully?" "No," she said curtly, and took another deep breath. Of course, there was something wrong, and she knew what it was, but she didn't have to tell Mulder everything. He didn't need to know that she was unbearably horny and hadn't had sex in...what was it? A year and a half? Much too long! And she'd be willing to bet it hadn't been nearly so long for Mulder. She snorted derisively to herself. "Scully, what the hell is going on over there?" Mulder looked concerned. "I said it was nothing, Mulder! Just leave me alone!" Uh-oh. Now those psychologist instincts were kicking in. Any second now he was going to say he knew what was wrong. "Scully, I know you're under a lot of stress these days." Hah! "It's four o'clock. Let's just finish this computer simulation and then call it a day." Scully smacked her computer again. "To hell with your stupid simulation, Mulder! I'm going across the street for a beer. I'll see you tomorrow." She grabbed her purse and fled, her face flaming. Really, this would only give Mulder an excuse to think she was having PMS. If only it were that simple. Maybe she should dig up that Good Vibrations catalog and order herself a new vibrator. Puzzled, Mulder stared as the door slammed behind Scully. Then, taking the time to shut down her computer and his, he grabbed his jacket and ran after her. A few minutes later, he stood in the murky bar, surrounded by morose FBI agents staring into their glasses. No sign of Scully. Mulder wondered how she had managed to elude him. "Some investigative agent you are," he told himself. From across the room, Assistant Director Skinner waved at him. "Mulder!" Mulder strode over. Skinner was drinking with a woman Mulder vaguely recognized from office parties. Wasn't she with the French embassy? "Sir, have you seen Scully?" "Not recently," Skinner replied. "Did you two have a fight?" "Lost your partner, Mulder?" called one of the FBI wags at the bar. "Just a professional disagreement," Mulder lied blithely. "Agent Scully believes that ET should have called collect." He turned and left the bar on a wave of laughter. In the street, Mulder stood perplexed, looking around and wondering where on earth Scully might have gone. "Or where off earth, but then I'll have a bitch of a time requisitioning transportation," he told himself. Suddenly, he noticed loud pounding music wafting from a punk-rockers' bar a block down. "Naah..." Mulder muttered, but instinctively he found himself heading toward the bar. "Does Scully have enough tattoos for this place?" he asked himself. "Whazzat?" asked the burly man at the door. "Nothing," Mulder said, and flashed his ID. "Have you seen a redhaired woman, about so high?" He held his hand at chest height. The bouncer grinned. "You better move yer ass if that's yer woman, bud," he said. "She's awful popular right about now." He stepped aside to let Mulder in. Scully was at the bar, ignoring most of the young pierced men around her. She had gulped down three or four beers in succession and was feeling much better. She had her eye on one of the punks, who looked quite a bit like Mulder...at least, what she could see of him through the haze of cigarette smoke, lust and alcohol blurring her vision. She didn't think Mulder had quite so lurid a haircolor, but other than that, the resemblance was pretty good. She blinked in confusion as the image doubled and one of the Mulders stepped forward to take her arm. "Come on, Scully, let's blow this pop stand." Shit. She didn't think punks talked like that these days. "Mulder?" "Oh good, I thought you might have forgotten," he said cryptically, and led her out into the chill early-evening air. Scully's head cleared a little, and she realized what she'd been about to do, and with whom...and what she really wanted to do, and with whom... "Mulder, just call me a cab, okay? I gotta go home." "You're a cab, Scully." He opened the door of his car and shoved her into the passenger's seat. Scully zonked out for a moment, and when she came to her senses Mulder was tugging her out of his car. "Come on, we're home." "Mulder..." she said fuzzily as he hauled her toward her front door. The nearness of him was starting to drive her crazy, the strength in his arms as they supported her. "You should get back to work." "Are you kidding? I've been waiting years to see you this drunk. Where are your keys?" Scully's head cleared more. "I'm not drunk, Mulder." She fished out her keys and opened the door. "You really should get going now." She tried to block the doorway, but he pushed it open and kept his hand on her waist - sweet torture! - as he followed her in. "I don't think so. You were giving that punk the eye. What did you think you were going to do? Take him home and screw him silly?" Scully's ears turned pink. "Is that any of your business, Mulder?" "I like to know what kind of diseases my partners are going to be bringing into the office, yes." "How do you know he had diseases? How do I know you don't?" Uh-oh, where did that come from? "Feel free to give me a physical, Doctor Scully." He was looking at her quite seriously. "Look, Scully, if you're having...tensions, that's your business, but don't you think there are safer and more effective ways of releasing them?" Scully's head whirled as Mulder reached out to touch her arm solicitously. "Hell, yeah," she said inanely, and leaned backwards. Mulder jumped to catch her, but instead she drew him back with her and they toppled to the floor, Mulder a sweet warm weight on her stomach. Before he had gathered his wits to push away from her, Scully shoved her fingers into his hair and brought his mouth down on hers. A squeak escaped Mulder's throat as their lips met, and he responded in an instant, almost instinctively, his thigh slipping between hers as he opened his mouth to her questing tongue. The taste of beer was faint, and obscured by the taste of Scully, which seemed almost familiar, achingly perfect as if he had imagined it a thousand times...which of course he had. She was tearing breathlessly at her solemn working suit, ripping the jacket and blouse aside, and Mulder pulled himself up to watch open-mouthed as she tore off her bra and her soft breasts spilled free. Then he dropped down again, to wrap eager lips around her tensing nipples, and she groaned loudly and pushed him, rolling so that she was on top. She straddled him, his neck extending to capture her breasts as she swiftly and single-mindedly divested herself and then him of all clothing. Naked, Scully brooked no delay. Feverish with passion, she slid her ass across Mulder's silky skin - oh, the remembered bliss of bare skin on skin! - and opened to him, pulling his hard cock inside her with an inexorable speed. Mulder gasped aloud and lay back on the floor, caressing her breasts with one hand, the other sliding across her stomach and between her legs. Like an extension of herself he knew just where to touch and Scully moaned, moving faster across him as the beautiful tension mounted and finally reached its peak. She cascaded ecstatically across the waves of orgasm and Mulder, watching her face, was drawn along with her. Sated, they lay on the floor in an untidy, sweaty, sticky lump. Scully sighed as she felt Mulder's erection soften and subside inside her. God, I needed that! she thought dreamily. After a moment, Mulder stirred and withdrew himself from her. He raised himself on one elbow and looked into her eyes. "Feeling better, Scully?" Scully decided to save the angst and self-reproach for tomorrow. "A little," she said caustically. "Well, for Pete's sake," Mulder said, kissing her chin, then her throat, then the spot between her breasts, then her belly button. He slid his hands under her buttocks and nudged her legs apart with his elbows. His face was inches from her wet cunt. He looked up and met her eyes again. "Next time, just say so," he instructed, then put out his tongue and bent his head. (end)