From: "Beth Bradford" Date: Wed, 16 Jun 1999 20:44:00 -0700 Subject: Hard to Do II: Waking Up Title: Hard To Do II: Waking Up Author: Beth825 (Beth825@england.com) Rating: NC-17 Category: SR Spoilers: Nada Keywords: Mulder/Scully Summary: What happens "the morning after." Sequel to Shaking Up Is Hard To Do. Notes: Gotta read the first one to understand this one. Sorry, but that's the way it works. Shameless self-promotion, I know. *evil grin* Disclaimer: I have become mentally deranged and am holding CC hostage at gunpoint until he gives Mulder and Scully to me, because I let them play. X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X I wake up in the morning, unsure of whether it was a dream or reality. Then I reach over to the other side of the bed. It's warm. And there's a dent in the pillow that smells of Mulder's shampoo. I stretch lazily and am positive it was real, beca use my legs hurt. I smile as I roll over and see him sitting there in my chair, wearing only his boxers, with a cup of coffee ready for me. "Morning, sleepyhead," he says. "Morning yourself, Mulder." There is a short silence as I sit up in bed, pulling the sheet up around my breasts and sip the coffee he hands me. "Why did you come here last night?" I have to know. "To apologize. I was a bastard for leaving you again. I should know better by now." His voice is almost a whisper when he says, "I'm such an asshole, Scully. You deserve so much more than I can give." He looks down at the floor, ashamed that he had done something so rash again. "Mmm," I murmur against the rim of my coffee cup. "Yeah, you should know better. But you give me everything I want, everything I need. And it worked out well in the end." He grinned sheepishly, as if embarrassed that he had a sex drive. Mulder, King of Porn, embarrassed about getting laid. He can be so damn adorable at times, like now when he's trying not to blush. He's almost succeeding, but his face is just a bit pinker than usual. "Yeah," is all he says in return. I look at him with a smirk on my face. "It's Saturday, Mulder. We don't have any work to do. Any suggestions?" His gaze travels down over my sheet-clad form. "I can think of a few." I pat the bed beside me and he moves to sit where I indicated. He kisses me and we start again. Once more, I don't question it at all. I haven't asked why we're letting this happen, I just accept it. There will be time for that later. The only thing I wonder about is why we waited this long. We feel so right together, as partners, as friend s, as lovers. I had thought this would be awkward, but as his mouth travels over my body, it's anything but. It's heaven to feel this way, with the man I reluctantly let into my fantasies. I can't even remember a time before it was his hands I dreamt of on my body. He was my partner, and therefore off-limits, but my mind still imagined him in my bed. Eve n when I was mad at him, like last night, his image alone would help me find the release I desperately craved. And suddenly, I'm screaming again, shuddering with pleasure as his tongue touches me in the most intimate of kisses. Good little Catholic girl Scully? I think not. And then I prove it as I return the favor. He grips my head tightly, pulling my ha ir almost hard enough to hurt as he moans and empties himself in my mouth. I swallow reflexively, and sit lightly on his thighs as he leans against the headboard, breathing heavily. How many men have I done this for? I think back, and count. Three, maybe four men have coaxed me to do this, but Mulder didn't ask. I wante d to. And there was always some discrete way to dispose of the unwanted material, but not this time. It never occurred to me to do anything other than what I did. And how many men have done for me what Mulder did? I could count those just as easily as the other. No, the men in my past hadn't been very willing to perform that specific act, but they were greedy enough to ask me to do it. I smile at my partner as he reaches for me again. His breathing is almost normal again, and he kisses me softly and whispers, "Thanks." I tell him he's welcome and then lay my head on his shoulder. My hand traces his chest delicately, and eventual ly roams down over his stomach. He draws in a slow breath, anticipating that I'll venture lower, but I surprise him and move my hand back upward to wrap around his neck. And we sit there on my bed for a long time, until we're both falling asleep. He murmurs something about laying down, and I nod my consent. He gently moves us so that I'm curled up against him again, half on top of him, his chest pillowing my head. I feel safe. There are no men claiming I have 'unrest', no shadow conspiracies, no aliens trying to conquer the earth. In Mulder's arms, I am warm and safe, and we fall asleep again. X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X