From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org
Date: Thu, 27 Nov 2008 23:55:44 -0600 (CST)
Subject: Fight the Future Later by suchreverie
Source: direct

Reply To: suchreveries@yahoo.com


Title: Fight the Future Later
Author: suchreverie 
Date: Nov. 27, 2008
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Fight the Future
Classification: V
Keywords: MSR, Fight the Future missing scene
Archive: Ephemeral, Gossamer, others by request
Summary: Fight the Future, but not before you get it on.
Disclaimer: These characters are not mine and no copyright 
infringement is intended. Yes, Chris, I did blatantly 
"borrow" a few lines from you, but I did it with the best of 
intentions.
Author's Notes: Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. Here's my take 
on what happened after that delicious deleted kiss scene from 
Fight the Future. Many thanks to anniemarie75 and idella for 
being my Thursday night cheering section.
Feedback would be wonderful. suchreveries @ yahoo.com or 
find/comment on my fic at http://suchreverie.livejournal.com

****************************************
He kicked the door shut behind him, secretly feeling a bit 
like a romance novel hero, carrying her into his apartment 
like that, silver screen dramatic, her arms wrapped around 
his neck, her palm firmly pressed into the back of his neck.

He'd gotten over the initial shock of her kissing him so 
hard, her taking control of it, and he let her go a little 
wild on him and delighted in this new side of her that he had 
never seen, the one he'd only dreamed to be true.

She kept kissing him now as he carried her on his way to the 
couch, her tongue exploring the ridges of his teeth and the 
inside of his lips and he suddenly felt like the luckiest man 
in the entire universe, he had to be. After all the bullshit 
they'd just been through, all the confusing, obfuscated doors 
they'd opened, and now this, this kiss was a beam of light 
through the shadows, clarity amid the black. A surge of heat 
rushed through his body right to his groin, of course, and 
for once, he wasn't ashamed or embarrassed by this effect she 
had on him. It only made him want her more.

He got closer to the couch and she stopped her assault of his 
mouth only long enough to emit a whimper from the back of her 
throat and make a quick upward nudge of her head toward his 
bedroom. She nudged toward it again and opened her eyes for 
the first time since she'd jumped into his arms. She'd made 
her decision already and he smiled against her mouth at the 
gleam in her eyes.

They'd spent far too many evenings on that goddamned couch 
anyway.

****************************************
The rational, methodical, enigmatic Dr. Scully had just 
assaulted her partner's mouth like she was on a mission from 
God. Kiss him, Dana. I command you as a woman of faith. And 
she liked it. A lot. In fact, she may have loved it. But she 
was not one prone to using words with such significant 
implied meaning.

So she liked it. A lot.

He may have leaned in, and oh, what a sweet and slow agony it 
was, looking into his eyes and feeling him move closer, 
feeling the warmth of his hand on her neck, feeling her lips 
instinctively part in anticipation, and wondering if this was 
it, if it was finally time, after all this time...but she was 
the one who jumped in first, pushing her mouth onto his, her 
tongue searching, quickly losing any sense of control. She 
kissed him furiously, like they had only seconds to make up 
for years of unrequited lust.

It seemed instinctual when she jumped into his arms and he 
caught her, in one swift, smooth act, and she pressed herself 
snugly into the tight muscle of his jersey-covered chest and 
kept kissing him more, tasting him more, feeling his need, 
feeling the ache in her chest at the words that had just 
passed through the very lips she was caressing with her own, 
like an answer that couldn't be spoken.

He'd taken her lead when she indicated the couch would be 
less than ideal. She was thinking in short, staccato 
sentences that ripped through her mind like lightning, 
telling her what she wanted and needed, not what she should 
do or should think about doing or should perhaps consider 
doing or not doing.

They'd had a bad few days. She was more than happy to turn 
the thinking part of her brain off for the first time in 
years.

****************************************
He broke their kiss to put her down--he sat on the edge of 
his bed after pushing his half-empty suitcase onto the floor 
with a clunk he was sure his downstairs neighbors 
appreciated.

She stood in front of him, trying to hide her effort at 
slowing her breath. He looked into her eyes and her knees 
grazed his.

"Hi," she said, nearly shy, and he felt his stomach twist in 
a delicious anticipatory way.

"Hey, Scully." He laughed and she did too, pulling her hair 
behind her ear. She moved inches closer, her breasts 
distractingly close to his face. Just a little closer and he 
could...if he wanted to...

Instead, he smoothed his hands under the shoulders of her 
black jacket and pushed it down, letting it slip down her 
arms and onto the floor. She took a quick breath in, her face 
a mix of innocence and uncertainty. She blinked and the 
corner of her mouth turned up into a smile. It was electric, 
taking something off her like that, hearing her breathe, 
seeing her smile, and he hoped she couldn't notice exactly 
how much it turned him on.

He looked into her eyes and couldn't ignore what her fingers 
were doing--at this point, tenderly plucking the buttons 
apart on her white blouse. Inch by inch they moved down, and 
he finally had to look, his eyes wandering over smooth white 
skin, the understated lace of her white bra, the flat of her 
stomach. She dropped the blouse to the floor and he thought 
he might cry.

He slid his arms around her waist and pulled her close, 
pressing his mouth against her skin just above her belly 
button. Her hand immediately went to his hair and she 
breathed out, the long exhale of someone who has waited far 
too long for something so very simple to feel so completely 
amazing.

His mouth open, he breathed against her soft skin after 
kissing it, lost in the meaning of it all.

****************************************
She never thought his mouth would taste so good, or that it 
would feel so hot and perfect against her skin. His breath on 
her stomach sent a shiver to her toes and she kicked off her 
three-inch heels, thereby bringing his mouth three inches 
closer to her breasts, which were aching to be touched in any 
sort of way he was willing to touch them.

He did just that, his mouth covering one hardened nipple 
through the fabric of her bra. She moaned for the first time, 
sending a blush over her chest at such a primal sound 
escaping her lips, a sound she'd reserved expressly for him a 
long time ago, but all of those other times she'd been alone 
and this time, he had heard her.

"Yeah," he breathed against her breast. "Yeah."

It was the urgency in that one simple word that made her 
pulse beat in regions further south of his mouth, and she 
tried to keep her composure when she thought that maybe, just 
maybe, he would move further...she couldn't even carry out 
the complete thought. His hands were at the back clasp of her 
bra, and then it was falling off her body and her lips were 
parting and she was panting before his mouth moved over her 
skin, teeth gently tugging.

He started gently, and then opened his mouth more, his hands 
at her shoulder blades, his tongue exploring her breasts and 
his hair tickling her as he pressed closer. And it was 
deliciously forbidden, and she couldn't help moaning more at 
that thought, the thought of her partner doing this. Skinner 
would write them up. He would have their asses if he knew. 
She felt so very naughty.

She dug her fingernails into his shoulders, then found 
herself pulling up on his t-shirt, bunching it up, seeking 
his skin to explore with her fingers. He parted from her 
breasts to pull his shirt over his head and toss it away. 
Then she got a little more courage and pushed him down onto 
the bed, straddling him with her knees before she could 
evaluate this action's further implications to their careers 
and general livelihood.


****************************************
There were times when Scully's bullheaded determination drove 
him a little bit nuts in a bad way. But when she pushed him 
down onto the bed and climbed on top of him and kissed him 
hard with her naked breasts pressed into his chest, well, 
that was the kind of determination that drove him a little 
nuts in a good way.

He knew she could feel it now, how completely into this he 
was, how much more he wanted. He pulled her closer, his hand 
slipping through her hair to pull her mouth closer, one hand 
on the small of her back to push her down gently onto his 
hips. Their pants were still on, and though it was 
frustrating, it wasn't nearly as frustrating as four or five 
years of blue balls he'd experienced working with her. Not 
even close.

It was actually very sexy, her pressing down, tentatively at 
first, onto his cock throbbing under his jeans. He could feel 
her heat as she rocked her hips closer, finally rubbing 
cloth-on-cloth, soft on hard. She whimpered and both her 
hands found his hair and pulled it while she sucked his 
tongue into her mouth. It pretty much killed him, 
metaphorically, her hot, wet mouth and the roll of her hips.

He flipped her over in one smooth motion and surprised her, 
just a little, when her back hit the bed. He stood up and 
looked at her, a few strands of hair over her blue eyes, her 
perfect breasts, her red, just-kissed lips, the seductive 
arch of her eyebrow.

He leaned down to unzip her pants and slide them off of her 
legs, slowly, enjoying the slow exposure of her smooth thighs 
and calves, and he wasn't sure what he loved more, her legs 
or the white panties that hugged her hips and dipped 
deliciously below her navel.

"This is a dream." He said it instead of thinking it.

"No it's not," she said with a smile.

The tone of her voice sent him a little closer to losing all 
his inhibitions. He bit his lip and nodded upward toward the 
headboard, a move he learned from her just moments ago. She 
slid up, resting her head on the pillow.

He laid next to her, his fingers quickly trailing over the 
waistband of her panties, the silk of her skin sending a 
tingle from his head to his toes. He kissed her mouth, her 
cheek, her nose. He nuzzled his face into her neck, right 
under her ear, and she giggled softly.

The hollow of her neck smelled like Texas--the dust of a 
gravel road, rows of cornfields, a hint of rental car air 
freshener. When he ran his tongue lightly along the line of 
her neck, she moaned. He moaned back and did it again. She 
tasted faintly of sweat, but underneath it all, he detected 
the essence of her, recognizing it instantly in its 
familiarity, in the comfort it brought to him.

He kissed her collarbone, her shoulders, making his way down 
to her breasts again, because he was fairly sure at this 
point that he was addicted to how her nipples rose to his 
touch.



****************************************
She was addicted to the way her body responded to his touch--
it was even more responsive than when she'd imagined being 
with him over and over again in her own guilty fantasies. He 
covered her with his body, sucking on a nipple, his hair 
falling over his eyes as he looked up to her with an 
expression so hungry it took her breath away.

"God, Scully," he whispered, moving to the other side.

She closed her eyes, running her fingers over his shoulders, 
down his back, up his arms, and then took the same path 
again, feeling the hot, tight skin framing his muscles. She 
began to writhe under him, her body begging for more. She 
slung a leg over his, pulling him closer, wanting him so much 
closer. She could almost feel him deep inside of her already 
and she moaned, rubbing her hips against him.

She felt all wound up, like a top about to be released into 
its spin, and he moved his mouth down her stomach and ran his 
tongue along the edge of her panties and she wanted it so 
slow but so fast, she couldn't decide, and then she realized 
he was hooking his thumbs under the sides of them and pulling 
them down her legs. She bit back a moan, tilting her head 
back as if by doing so she would be able to take a full 
breath of air, not the desperate little pants she'd been 
subject to over the past few minutes.

She felt him kiss the inside of her leg, starting at her 
ankles, and kept her eyes closed. It's Mulder, she 
thought...he moved his mouth up each side, to the inside of 
her knees. It's still him...and then the tops of her thighs, 
and then Mulder's tongue flicking against the inside of her 
thigh and she spread her legs just a little bit more, not 
wanting to seem to eager for it even though her desire was 
driving every coherent thought out of her body. His breath on 
her skin...Mulder's breath...and it wasn't a dream when his 
tongue touched her there and her body snapped alive with a 
tingle that emanated from the exact spots he, he being 
Mulder, was now lapping at with his rough, hot tongue.

"You taste so good," he growled before lapping at her again.

It was then she was lost, and couldn't feel a single thing 
except for his mouth, couldn't make a sound but moan, 
couldn't see a thing but stars.

****************************************
He'd given up on polite, on being a gentleman, when he 
realized he couldn't hold himself back any more. He had 
worked his way down her smooth, perfect body, pulled down her 
little white panties and silently sent a thank-you prayer to 
a God he wasn't even sure existed, and there she was, 
completely naked, completely beautiful, and he realized they 
were just about as far from Jiffy Pop poppers as they could 
get at this point.

It was the two of them, alone, finally, and he was going to 
make her come, finally, and those two thoughts made him 
extremely happy. Finally.

And not only did she taste amazing, but the sounds she 
started making while he was going at it were all sorts of 
moans and whimpers that urged him on. He was enjoying 
himself, probably a little too much, but then again, who came 
up with that idea anyway?

The now-painful throbbing in his jeans became second to the 
feel of her heels rubbing his back as she pulled him closer 
with her fingers twined in his hair. She met his mouth with 
her own rhythm, her moans more insistent and urgent, and soon 
she was murmuring something about being so close, and her 
head was thrashing on the pillow and he kept going until she 
tensed up and he heard her.

"Mulder," she moaned as she came, "Oh, Mulder, Oh, Jesus, 
Mulder."

Mulder 3, J.C. 1. He felt pretty satisfied about that, 
licking her slowly, smiling as she jumped when his tongue 
passed over her over-sensitive clit.

He crawled up to her, kissing his way up, hitting spots he'd 
missed on his way down--her sides, her arms, her sternum, and 
then her mouth again, her parted lips stealing breath back 
from him. She thanked him generously, kissing and kissing 
him, long, slow kisses. He closed his eyes and let her kiss 
to her heart's content.

Then he felt her hands go to the waistband of his jeans. "Why 
the hell are these still on?" she asked.

"Um," he said with a sheepish grin. She kissed his bottom 
lip.

"Not um. Get them off."

****************************************
She was still recovering from her orgasm, which was, hands-
down, the best one she'd had in her life, as she watched him 
slide off the bed and obey her command. If only he was always 
this obedient, she thought as he took off his pants. She 
watched and felt her eyes widen when she realized that this 
was it. She was going to see him naked. Her heart beat faster 
and she bit her upper lip. He seemed less concerned, shedding 
his boxer briefs quickly and giving them another toss, and 
she wondered for a split second why he seemed so into tossing 
his clothes here and there. Was it a man thing?

But then she took in the full view of his lanky body?his 
strong shoulders, tight thighs, hardened abs, those lines 
from his torso to his groin that she yearned to run her 
tongue over, and of course there was his cock, in its full 
glory. He must have really liked going down on her, very much 
so, because he was...all sorts of adjectives sifted through 
her head as he walked over and slid onto the bed, on his back 
next to her.

"Like what you see?" he said, and she thought she heard a 
hint of uncertainty in his voice.

"Hmmm," she said, hesitating for only a second before she 
slid her hand over his belly and stroked him, one long, tight 
stroke with her hand. And the expression on his face was awe-
inspiring, shocked and aroused and a little like he was ready 
to jump her bones and screw her until next Sunday.

"I'll take that as a yes," he sighed as she stroked him more, 
and she loved the feeling of him, hot and hard in her hand, 
completely in her power for a few fleeting moments.

"Yes," she whispered, rising over him and straddling one of 
his thighs.

"Yes?" He nearly squeaked it out and she thought she saw him 
gulp. She moaned softly at the feeling of his thigh pressed 
against her heat, her wetness, at how wet he'd made her when 
he made her come...

She ground into him and dipped her head to kiss him once, 
then hovered over his mouth as she moved her hips against his 
leg. He reciprocated, pushing his thigh up between her legs, 
pressing her flesh and sending sparks through her body.

"This," she breathed between little thrusts of her hips, "is 
what the past few years have felt like for me. Teasing. 
Endless teasing."

He smiled and nipped at her bottom lip with his teeth, then 
pushed his leg into her again, making her moan. "Like that?"

She cocked her head to the side. "No." Then she slid up to 
straddle his hips, his cock bobbing between her thighs. He 
sucked in a breath and she bit her lip before she let it 
slide through her folds once, one extremely hot slide that 
nearly made her swoon, then pulled her hips away from him 
with a smirk. "Like that."

"Fuck," he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. "Just like that. 
Come on, Scully."

She pressed her hand against his cheek and he opened his eyes 
again, looking at her with an expression that made her melt a 
little inside. "Look into my eyes."

"Okay," he said, and she thought she saw his eyes turn glassy 
for a moment, but the moment quickly passed when she slid 
onto him, all the way until he was settled deep inside of 
her, full and firm and real, so real she could barely handle 
it.

And she didn't look away, and neither did he, when they 
started moving with each other, into and against each other, 
his hands reading her back and her hand steady on his cheek. 
She moved up and down on him, listening to him groan, feeling 
his fingers dig into the curves of her ass, pushing himself 
deeper. He felt amazing, filling her again and again, sending 
her nerve endings into overdrive.

He kissed her thumb with a smile and pushed his hips against 
her, raising her knees off the bed for an instant and making 
her gasp.

"Do it again," she whispered, looking into his eyes.

****************************************
The hour was late by the time they ran out of energy and lay 
sweaty and spent in each others' arms. Mulder's head was 
reeling with the sensations and the sounds of being with her-
-he wasn't quite ready to let time continue on, not knowing 
what the future may bring.

"I should go," she murmured sleepily against his chest.

"I know," he said, even though all he wanted her to do was 
stay the night. They needed rest--it had been an incredibly 
crazy few days, and he knew that if she stayed, most likely, 
there would be little rest to be had.

"I need a bath in my tub and my robe and my fluffy down 
comforter," she said, stretching out her calves with pointed 
toes.

"Don't let me keep you," he said. "Who am I to consider 
myself more desirable than your fluffy down comforter?"

He felt her chin against his chest when she looked up with 
him with a smile. He smiled back, still giddy from feeling 
her wrapped around him, seeing her come on him, coming in 
her, and the fact that the world didn't shatter, amazingly 
enough.

"It is a pretty comfortable comforter," she said, kissing his 
chest.

"Aptly named, then." He gave her a nod and a wink. She rolled 
off of his chest and began collecting her clothes. He watched 
her dress, nearly as beautiful to watch as the act of 
undressing her. Slipping on her panties, her bra, and those 
hot black pants that made her ass look so good every time she 
wore them.

She pulled on her shirt and buttoned it while intently 
watching him on the bed. There wasn't much to watch. He was 
motionless and wasn't sure if he would be able to get up for 
quite some time.

"Be safe on the way home," he said. "Call me when you get 
there."

She smiled. "Mulder, I can take care of myself. Still. Even 
after all this."

She paused as she put on her jacket.

"But I'll call you when I get home."

He grinned and decided that even if it hurt, he was going to 
get out of bed to get a little more kissing in before she had 
to go. He slid off the bed and she tilted her head, smiling 
and parting her lips to catch his kiss. He wrapped his arms 
around her waist.

"Mmmm," she murmured against his lips, her tongue teasing 
him. He felt his cock twitch and he couldn't quite believe it 
had anything left after all that.

He pressed his forehead against hers and breathed in.

"Ouch," she said, jerking away and rubbing her neck.

"What? What happened?" For a split second, he thought maybe 
she had pulled a muscle earlier on in the evening.

"I think...something stung me." She pulled her hand away from 
her neck and between her fingers she held a squirming bee. 
"That fucking hurt."

"Hmmm," he said, wondering how a bee could travel all the way 
from Texas to D.C. in the collar of her shirt. He looked 
around her shoulder and rubbed her neck. "It must have..."

Suddenly he felt her sag, like she was passing out. He held 
her tightly with his arms around her waist. "Scully?"

"Something's wrong...I'm having...lancinating pain in my 
chest..."

"You're...what?" He held her tighter as she sagged more, then 
turned to lay her on the bed gently. 

"My...motor functions are being affected. I'm..."

She was gasping for breath, her chest heaving. His heart 
raced as he scanned the room, trying to remember where he put 
his cell phone.

"My...my pulse feels thready and I've got a funny taste in 
the back of my throat..."

"I think you're in anaphylactic shock," he said, running his 
fingers over her cheek.

"Mulder, I've got no allergy..."

- end -