From: Viceyy@aol.com
Date: Wed, 6 Sep 2000 12:30:57 EDT
Subject: I Can't Give You Anything 
Source: direct

I CAN'T GIVE YOU ANYTHING...
BY: LEELEE
NC-17

"Our relationship has been a series of misadventures from beginning
to end"
Dr. David Huxley

He was so hot and tired that even the prospect of ogling Scully's
bare legs was out. The rental car air conditioning was puffing out a
pathetic stream of tepid air that, when mixed with the already stuffy
atmosphere of the car, produced a mini version of a global greenhouse
effect. They had tried to leave the windows down, but despite the
fresh air, the temperature quickly went from heinous hot to sizzling
on the grill.

Highway 75 through this part of Florida was, Walter Skinner blearily
thought, where total idiots went to have their brains fried or their
blood boiled. And making the trip on an August afternoon in record
high temperatures declared both him and his agent as the king and
queen of all idiots.

Lacking a head of hair to deter it, sweat kept dripping down his
forehead and into his eyes. His usual starched white shirt felt like
a wet bath towel. Groggily looking over at Scully he was grateful
that he had known her for long enough that he had little desire to
impress her. The last time he had raised his arm he realized he was
fully into the thirteenth hour of his deodorant's twelve-hour
control.

Not that Scully was holding up any better. Taking a deep sniff in her
general direction, he realized that she was getting a little ripe
too. Not an unpleasant ripe mind you. Just enough to intensify the
normal warm smell he had long ago associated with her. That combined
with her moistly rumpled state was quite a sight. And the fact that
she had obviously taken off her panty hose exposing pale sweaty legs
would have normally done him in. But the damn heat was so taxing that
his body was incapable of even producing an erection in her honor.

Why they couldn't get a flight directly into Tallahassee was beyond
him. At this point he couldn't even remember his soon-to-be-ex
assistant Kim's reasoning. All he knew was that they had to settle
for this ancient and battered Ford rental with the totally inadequate
air conditioner in order to make the insanely long drive up from
Tampa to assist Mulder in his work with the Florida Department of Law
Enforcement's latest serial killer case.

So here they were driving down an endless highway past nothing more
than dried up fields and weary cattle. Passing unmemorable towns with
clever names like "Danks Corner" And "Cuscowilla".

Finally, being far to hot to eat anything solid, but fearing severe
dehydration and heat exhaustion, he suggested that they stop for a
late lunch. Scully's grunt of approval was all the encouragement he
required or expected.

The small town that they pulled into was old Florida itself and had
the odd Native American name of Michanopy. Pulling down a small paved
street, they found themselves right in the middle of an American back
roads treasure. Michanopy's historic district was a wonderful mix of
old southern buildings mostly converted into antique shops and
restaurants. Skinner felt rather than saw Scully becoming more alert.
She was like a cat that awakes only when someone turns on a can
opener. Where before she could manage no more than a mumbled comment,
grunt or groan; now Scully perked right up, looked around and said
"How pretty". Some kitties respond to the can opener, Skinner
thought, but this one obviously responded to the prospect of a quaint
restaurant and shopping.

They parked at the end of the street and walked down to the heart of
town and the old courthouse square. Skinner had to hide his agitation
at Scully's slowness. Her head was darting from side to side as she
took in all the shops. Since it was the first animation he had seen
from her all day and his legs needed the exercise, he slowed his pace
to accommodate her. With large oaks and Magnolias covering the street
it was at least cooler than the inside of the rolling pizza oven they
called a rental car.

The restaurant they found was a small sandwich shop and ice cream
parlor decorated in old Coke Cola memorabilia. They wolfed down BLT's
and huge glasses of sweet iced tea before turning their eyes to the
cool and very inviting ice cream counter. Skinner got Pistachio,
Scully cookies and cream.

Taking their cones out to the sidewalk, they silently agree to window
shop before continuing the long drive north. They needed a long break
and walking together they enjoyed a quiet peace that could only come
from years of knowing one another.

Susan Vance: "It's just an old bone!" David Huxley: "Yes, Susan it's
just an old bone. Now put it down gently and go away."

That's when Scully saw it. The oldest dirtiest used bookstore Skinner
had ever laid eyes on. He tried to stop her, but she pulled his arm
and dragged him into the dusty place saying, "Just let me look in
here for a second. Then we'll get going."

From a lazy cat to a terrier after a squirrel, Skinner thought as he
watched the petite agent determinedly sniffing through stacks of
musty old books. He had no idea what she was looking for and really
didn't care. He leaned against an obliging wall and watched her flit
from stack to stack. Her hair mussed and her bare legs showing
beneath her short skirt. She bent low to check out a large stack of
books that were unceremoniously dumped on the floor and he got an
even closer look. Her skirt lifted showing him lots and lots of leg
from the backs of her slim ankles to the center of her creamy white
thighs.

His body felt rejuvenated enough to honor her in the usual way.

Skinner tried his best to ignore the wrinkled-up white haired owner
who looked at him with curious eyes. He could almost feel her sizing
him up. Was he dressed well enough to ensure her a large sale? No way
sweetheart, he thought. He was just here to enjoy the view.

David: "Where is my intercostal clavicle?" Susan: "Your what?" David:
"My bone! It's rare, it's precious, what did you do with it?"

And what a fine view it was, too. His usually staid agent was doing
enough bending over and stretching her hands above her head to fuel
his fantasies for at least the next ten years. She was totally
oblivious to the fact that her sweet round bottom was pointing
directly at him in her quest for old, moldy literature.

He could almost forget that he was standing in a dark dusty little
used bookshop and picture himself walking up behind the tasty
redhead. As short as she was, he would have to bend over her back as
she leaned over presenting her derriere so enticingly. First he would
whisper something sexy in her ear. What he would say he had no clue,
but it would be pretty damn sexy. Then he would touch her legs softly
as low as he could reach and run his fingertips agonizingly slow up
her legs. His fingers would stroke over the buttery smooth backs of
her knees and then inch up her silky thighs. Their breathing would
become rapid while he slipped his fingers under the back of her short
skirt only to feather out to the front of her thighs. Inches from
heaven he would lean in and nibble on her ear drawing out the
sensation as long as he could.

His fingers would dance over the edges of her panties. They were
black lace... No silky pink bikinis. He would slip just one finger
under them stroking her skin softly and stoking her excitement to a
boiling point. Like a heat-seeking missile. Yes, pun intended. He
would seek the place he wanted so desperately to touch. Not to
mention see, feel, taste and delve very, very deeply into. Scully
would reward him by wriggling her firm little fanny giving his groin
the friction he was aching for. Finding her soft curls, he would pet
her until she was gasping and making wonderful pleading noises deep
in her throat. He wouldn't leave her hanging. This was something he
had been fantasizing about for ages. Reaching up further, he would
part her slick folds only to rub gently against her little nub.

Scully would arch her back against him and cry out, "Have his
Carcase!"

Cry out What? Skinner almost toppled over. He was standing against a
wall of a dingy old bookstore nursing the world's most intense
erection while the object of his desire was dancing around waving an
ancient book at him like it was the Holy Grail. Little old lady
shopkeeper was grinning at Scully like a Cheshire cat and he was
seconds away from them both noticing the tent in the front of his
pants.

Being the resourceful and quick thinking Assistant Director of the
FBI that he was, he spun on his heel and mumbled something about
"reporting in" before making a beeline for the door.

David: "I know I ought to go, but somehow I can't move."

Skinner stummbled out on to the sidewalk and looked around in
aggitation. Jesus! He thought. What the hell was I doing? Standing in
a public place indulging in a sexual fantasy daydream about doing her
over a large stack of musty old books! Pulling up her damp skirt,
exposing that sweet little ass and sinking in deep.

Get a hold of yourself Walter! This was ridiculous. Yes, he had a
world class crush on the woman. And yes, her face and body had been
dominating his dreams for years now. But this was Scully and there
was just no hope. Not to mention quite a few office policies that
forbade it. So just give it up.

It had just been so damn long for him. That was the problem. He
needed to get laid so bad he was acting like a horny
sixteen-year-old. He would have to call his ex-wife when he got back
to D.C. Sharon had let him know she was more than willing to relive
their glory years. That was it, he'd do that and also spend a while
relieving his tension on his own when they got to the hotel tonight.
That way he would at least be able to look Scully in the eye without
imagining her bent over a stack of books with her panties around her
ankles.

While he was attempting calm himself (and his erection) down, Scully
came out of the shop clutching a package and talking into her cell
phone with a huge smile on her face.

"That's wonderful Mulder." She was saying. "Yes, I'll tell him. See
you back in D.C."

Scully turned the smile his way. "That was Mulder. The case has been
solved to his satisfaction. The killer has made a full confession and
physical evidence backs him up. Looks like we're no longer needed."

Skinner hid his surprise and discomfort at her pretty smile with a
scowl. "So then we can get the hell out of here?"

Scully was taken back. What was his problem? The murders had been
solved. They didn't have to drive to Tallahassee. And she was sure
there was a flight back out of Tampa late tomorrow morning. The big
guy should be jumping for joy. He was acting so grumpy after the
quiet companionship they had shared while she was window-shopping.

"Well sir, I'm sure we can get a flight out of Tampa in the morning.
Do you want to start driving back and find a place to stay the night
on the way?"

Skinner just grunted and turned on his heel to start walking back to
the car. Great! He thought. It was still early enough that even if
they drove straight back he would have to spend most of the evening
with her. The prospect of having to wait so long to relieve his
little Scully-induced problem made his mood black as the steaming
asphalt.

Scully warily followed her boss as he stalked back to the car. This
would never do, she thought. If they were going to spend the rest of
the day together he had better snap out of it. She'd have to come up
with some kind of a diversion to make it at least a pleasant trip.
Clutching her book to her chest, Scully followed determinedly behind
him.

David: "The only way you'll get me to follow another one of your
suggestions is to hold a bright object in front of my eyes and twirl
it."

They pulled away from the curb and silently left the charming little
town. Skinner kept his eyes pointed directly ahead and did his best
to ignore her. Difficult task that it was since he now felt extra
aware of her sitting so primly beside him. The car wasn't as hot as
before, but he could still smell her warm female sexy smell. It was
so distracting that he made a wrong turn and it was moments before he
realized his mistake.

His sharp curse caused her to jump. What now? She wanted to yell.
Skinner had pulled down a side road and was looking for a place to
turn around. This had gone on long enough. If she wanted moodiness,
she would work with Mulder. That was when she saw the sign.

"Skinner, look." Skinner paused in his hunting and mumbled cursing to
follow her finger with his eyes. Slowing the car he turned to her and
tried to hide his exasperation. "So? What's that?"

Scully turned to him and gave him a wide smile. He fought the urge to
lean over and lick the sweat off her upper lip.

"Do you like great literature?" Skinner looked down at the wrapped
book on her lap and prayed she wasn't suggesting she read it to him.
Thoughts of Scully's sultry voice whispering in his ear were more
than he would be able to stand.

Of course he didn't want to seem rude.

"Ummm yeah?" He finally mumbled. Scully looked happier than he had
ever seen her and it warmed him all over. "Well then you're in luck.
Right down that street is the historical home of a famous writer that
her best stories were based on. Since we have some time now, why
don't we go check it out?"

Skinner looked into her pretty face and thought for a minute. It
would offer him a way to keep his mind off how he would really like
to spend their afternoon.

"Sure Scully, let's check it out."

David: "Well gee whiz Alice, everyone has to have a honeymoon."

Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings had moved to an orange farm on Cross Creek
in 1928. She lived there many years and used the location for the
basis of her books Cross Creek and the Yearling. As a child, Scully
had read and fell in love with the books and the Florida cracker
characters within them. She explained all this to a stone-faced
Skinner as they drove down the back road to Cross Creek.

He was interested despite a bored grumpy expression. Scully was just
so animated about the whole thing that he had to make an effort to
watch the road and not her smiling face. They arrived at the small
state historical park and made their way up to the house. The grounds
were covered with a large orange grove. But since it was August, the
oranges were still hard and green. Making their way to the barn, they
bought tickets from the young smiling guide and followed her inside
the house for their tour.

It was a good sized house built in the traditional Florida style.
That meant it was built to maximize any breath of wind that blew off
the nearby Lake. They both enjoyed the old furniture and stories of
Marjorie's writer friends coming to visit. For a young girl, the
guide was knowledgeable and being the last tour of the day, they
spent a long time asking her questions.

One question Scully asked concerned the creek itself, which featured
in several stories. Just where was it? The guide pointed past the
groves and told them which dirt roads to take to drive down to it. Of
course they could walk it, she said. But since it was so hot and they
were unaccustomed to the weather, she suggested that they follow the
directions and drive down to see it.

Skinner felt much more relaxed when they left. He always loved
history and being able to share it with Scully was special somehow.
The house and the grounds were nice to see and he had every intention
of taking Scully to see the creek. She seemed so happy he was
ridiculously glad for his part in it. It was as though they were the
couple he wished they could be, on vacation, driving around enjoying
the state and its history. He missed that closeness with another
person. And in a perfect world, one without policies and procedures,
he would be so happy to have that closeness with the lovely woman
sitting beside him.

He pulled out of the driveway and turned down the tiny dirt road that
the guide had suggested.

Susan: "Let's think before we act." David: "You think. You can think
faster than I can."

The road was not much more than a dirt path. They followed the
guide's directions as best as they could. A left then a right. But
before long they were both looking around puzzled. They seemed to be
going away from where the creek should be. After debating this fact
for a few moments Scully gave up. "Look, it's not important. Let's
just go back to the road and forget it."

His need for her to see the creek she had read about seemed to grow
stronger. The fantasy that she was his and his alone was just too
enjoyable to give up. "Scully, I'm sure this is the right way. Just
give me a minute to figure out where we are."

"The sun is going down sir. We had better just forget it." She did
have a point he thought as he looked at the rapidly setting sun. Just
a few more miles and then he would turn left and then he could give
her this. Maybe it would make up for the fact that his libido was
rearing it's ugly head again and he was once again beginning to think
how nice it would be to pull over and drag her into the backseat.

But the miles passed and the road became nothing more than a
weed-choked indentation. Dusk was upon them and they had not seen
anything that resembled civilization since they had turned off the
main road.

As much as he hated to admit it, Skinner had to give up. He stopped
the car and started to turn them around. He didn't say anything
although he had an overwhelming desire to apologize for letting her
down. What was it about this woman that caused him to want to give
her everything?

He was silently pondering his pathetic infatuation when the car
stalled. Great, he thought just what he needed. Restarting it was
successful, but an ominous clanging noise caused him to want to bang
his head against the steering wheel. This was just NOT happening.

"What's that?" Scully innocently asked. He didn't answer. He didn't
want to. Climbing out of the old car he popped the hood and saw
exactly what he expected.

A rod sticking out through the block.

Susan: "Your Golf ball, your car? Is there anything in this world
that doesn't belong to you? David: "Yes! Thank heavens, you!"

Scully's hair brushed his face as she leaned in closer beside him to
look. "It's thrown a rod." He offered after she had stared dumbly at
the engine for quite a while. "What does that mean? Is it bad?" For
some reason her ignorance drove him nuts. "Yeah Scully, you could say
that. It means we are lost in the middle of BFE with no car!" Jesus,
He thought, she went to med school and knows physics and stuff and
she doesn't know that a thrown rod means you are basically screwed?

"Well what now?" she asked and wearily looked around her. It was
getting very dark and the moon hadn't risen yet.

"Let's walk to the road and call a tow truck."

Scully looked at him in amazement. "The road is about four miles
back! Why not just use a cel phone to call for help?"

Skinner glared at her although he knew that in the dim light she
wouldn't get the whole effect. "I'm not going to alarm the local law
into thinking they have two idiots from Washington DC lost in their
woods."

Scully crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a calculating
look which he, of course, could barely see. "Why not? What is it with
men that they can't ask directions or call for help in the normal
way?"

Nothing in the world drove him crazier than when women started that
"Why can't you just call for help" crap. He was perfectly willing to
call for back up. His ego wasn't that huge. It was just that he
didn't want to admit to some Florida cracker cop how he got lost and
his car broke down while trying to show the woman who he secretly
wished was his best girl a fucking creek.

"We can walk it easy Scully. It's cooler now."

Scully looked at him and shook her head. He really was going to walk
four miles just to avoid calling for help. The man had an ego as big
as the Empire State building! He was even worse than Mulder. "No!
That's ridiculous. I'm not going to walk. Why should I?"

Skinner had been looking for an excuse to just order her to take the
hike and now he felt he had it. "Because I say so, Scully. Don't
forget that I am your boss."

Even in the gloom he could see her reaction to his words. OK, he
thought, maybe that was not the wisest thing to say.

Scully remained silent; her glare bored a hole straight through his
head. And despite the fact that he was a full-grown man, a FBI
assistant director and an ex marine, he felt the horrible sensation
of sweat forming on his balls. Maybe he should try a different tact.

"Look Scully, think about this. We are close to the Ocala forest.
Here when people get lost, they do things like call out the National
Guard and bloodhounds. It would be a huge mess and we would end up
answering for it. Can you come up with a good excuse why we were out
in the middle of nowhere? It would probably get all the way back to
Washington and how would all this look?" Damn! He had just wanted to
avoid looking stupid, but this was sounding really good!

Scully visibly relaxed as she considered his words. He was right of
course.

Skinner smiled since he knew he had her. "You can handle the hike
Scully. Now move it."

Susan: "Did we get across?" David: "No Susan we're right back where
we started from only now we're all wet!"

Scully made yet another attempt to slap away the mosquitoes that were
feasting on her exposed flesh like she was the shrimp cocktail at an
all you can eat buffet. They were, after all, surrounded by
swampland. But despite her conservationist views, Scully was so tired
of being bitten that she wished for a huge can of bug repellant to
saturate her surroundings with. To hell with the wildlife, she was
getting weak from blood loss.

Skinner didn't seem to be the object of their hunger. He was busy
forging a path that she was having a hard time keeping up with. The
moon came out and between slappings she began to admire the way he
looked walking in front of her.

Walter Skinner had a very cute ass!

This was something she had figured out a long time ago, but tried not
to dwell too much on. Why wish for the impossible? It was a lovely
night even with the blood sucking dive-bombers. If they were anywhere
else she would love to take a long walk in the moonlight with this
man.

The road was getting hard to follow in the pale moonlight. The fact
that he was out in the middle of nowhere alone with Scully kept
distracting him. The ground around the pathetic excuse of a road was
almost knee high with grass and weeds. Before he could stop it the
vision of him laying her down on the grassy road and easing himself
over top of her filled his mind. He walked away from the image as
fast as he could. His problem had come back with a vengeance.

Scully's voice came to him and he could almost hear laughter in her
tone. "Skinner slow down! I can't keep up."

He mumbled "Sorry" and waited for her to catch up now determined they
would walk side by side. She seemed so small beside him that he
wished he had enough nerve to reach out and take her hand.

They walked that way for a while. He was so very aware of her beside
him, but felt sure he was staying on the track. He was shocked when
he felt himself stumble and end up knee deep in water. Scully gave a
cry and grabbed his arm to keep from falling in the creek deeper.

They stood there silently knee deep and watched the moon shine off
the dark water.

"Good news Scully, we've found Cross creek."

Susan: "If there's anything I can do to help you just let me know and
I'll do it." David; "Well, don't do anything until I let you know."

They waded to the shoreline and stood on squishy wet shoes. "This is
just great Skinner. We're not even on the road anymore." She threw
her arms out in frustration. Skinner wasn't about to take any more
abuse from her. He was trying to lead them out of this mess, but the
light was so poor and whatever trail there was had long ago been left
in the scrub and palmetto. She could be such an ingrate. "I'm very
sorry you got wet Scully." He ground out, "Let's just find the road
and get out of here."

She stepped a few feet away from him and as he looked around his
heart jumped into his throat.

A Gator was right next to Scully's foot! Big one! About a six footer!
Holy Christ!

Skinner's military reflexes were quick. Without a word he dove for
her and with a diving tackle, pushed her away from that relic of the
dinosaur age she was standing by.

His aim was true and Scully landed firmly onto her bottom into the
mud. Her ass made a sickening plop as it sunk in the mud.

Luckily, her reflexes were just as quick and she was able to pull him
neatly down right on top of her. Later she would think back with
pleasure at the sound of Skinner's "Oof!" when he landed on his knees
straddling her thighs.

"What the hell are you doing!" She screamed once she had her breath
back.

"It's. It's an alligator." But even as the words left his mouth
Skinner knew the truth.

He had just saved Special Agent Dana Scully from a killer log.

David: "I might have known you were here. I had a feeling just as I
hit the floor."

Skinner was kneeling, straddling her thighs. Her bare thighs since
falling down had caused her skirt to ride up embarrassingly high.

She could feel the mud oozing into her white cotton panties. Luckily
he had a death grip on her forearms. Otherwise she would be lying
flat on her back on the muddy ground.

Holding the front of his shirt in an equally tight grip she ground
her teeth and hissed at him, "Let. Me. Up!"

"Dana, I'm so sorry. I swear I thought I saw an alligator. My glasses
seem to be fogging up." Skinner babbled on while he tried to rise to
his feet. Placing his wet shoes on the slick mud proved to be a
mistake. Almost immediately his feet slipped out from under him and
he landed full force on top of her pressing her body deep into the
slimy mud. Scully couldn't move. She couldn't speak either. His
weight was not quite enough to knock the breath from her, but the
situation was just too ridiculous. The man was huge!

She wanted to laugh at how ludicrous they must look. Two
professionals stuck in the middle of nowhere, being gorged on by
mosquitoes, falling in a famous creek and now rutting in the mud.

Her sense of humor that she kept so deeply hidden was bubbling to the
surface.

Skinner placed a hand on either side of her head and lifted himself
up to look down at his muddy agent. Even in the dark he could see
that Dana Scully was covered with slimy, smelly mud and rotten
vegetation.

Wonderful! He thought. I finally have her under me, but instead of
her being hot, passionate and most importantly NAKED, she's filthy
and probably about to verbally castrate me.

"You know, Skinner, I've always preferred Jell-O wrestling myself."

It was now Skinner's turn to be shocked into silence as he heard
Scully's deep chuckle at his surprise. She was just so remarkable. So
incredibly sure of herself and he was so fucking turned on by her he
couldn't stand it.

She must have been about to say something more because just as he
touched them with his own, her lips were parted. A tiny little voice
in the back of his head screamed *what the hell are you doing* at the
same moment, but he blocked it out as he felt her softness for the
first time. He didn't think she would respond. He hadn't really
thought about anything but how much he wanted to kiss her. He was too
far gone to be surprised when she kissed him back.

In one brilliantly bright hot flash of passion, she went from
laughing to arching up against his mouth. Her hands jerked on his
shirt, pulling him to her she opened her mouth further to let his hot
and slippery tongue in. Skinner's kiss was not timid, it was not coy,
it was full on, damn the torpedoes, I'm going to fuck you until you
can't walk straight, demanding, white-hot sex.

The shiver that shook her body was completely involuntary.

He felt her involuntary groan explode into his mouth. It reverberated
through his head, ran down his back and made a beeline straight down
to his aching cock were it almost caused, yet another, totally
involuntary explosion. He grabbed the back of her head in his hand
wanting to force his tongue deeper into her wildly willing mouth. The
mud oozed between his fingers.

The voice in the back of his head began to yell again.

Pulling back he looked at her face in the moonlight. She was covered
with mud, her hair was decorated with twigs and leaves and she was
panting for air.

He had to get a hold of himself.

David: "I'm losing my mind roaming around Connecticut with no clothes
on. How can all these things happen to just one person?"

Skinner managed to get to his feet and help her up. The river mud
stuck to her back in wet patches. Neither one of them had a clue what
to say to each other. What do you say when you've just been rutting
in the mud like sexually frustrated squealing pigs? How can you have
any hope of acting dignified after that outburst of passion and lust?
And more importantly, do they actually HAVE to stop?

Skinner finally calmed down enough to speak. "Let's just go back to
the car and wait until morning. It's too dangerous for us to be
wandering around here in the dark."

Yes, Scully thought, it is definitely dangerous. But it will be just
as dangerous back at the car. She was having a hard time keeping her
hands off him.

But she agreed since she didn't want to know how dried mud felt when
it was caked in her hair, or in her panties. "Certainly sir, if
you'll watch for alligators while I wash off in the creek?"

Skinner was very glad the dark hid his red face.

Scully ended up ducking under the water to rinse herself off. Skinner
stood silently by. The only noise he made was when he bent down to
wash off his hands and arms. They couldn't think of anything to say.
The water cooled some of the passion she had felt. And she was able
to think a little more clearly about what they had done and what had
almost happened.

It was all a matter of keeping a clear head, she told herself. If
they can just keep their hands off each other for the rest of the
night they would be just fine. Then in the morning they would find
help, get a car and drive to Tampa. All over. No more hot heavy
Skinner lying on top of her and mauling her mouth until she wanted to
tear off her clothes and grab that tight ass and grind herself
against it. Scully dunked her head again trying to chase that lovely
vision away.

David: "Susan this is no time to be playing squat tag."

They found their way back to the car fairly easily. The moon was high
now and it glinted off the car's windshield. Silently Skinner opened
the trunk so they could get clean clothes out. Skinner walked around
to the hood of the car to change his pants and shirt. Scully stayed
hidden behind the open trunk.

She had some trouble getting her wet things off. The tight skirt
seemed to have shrunk and it was taking her longer than she would
have liked. But she knew Skinner would be a gentleman and stay where
he was.

Just as she had finally gotten her wet clothing removed and was
hunting through her bag for some clean underwear, she saw something
out of the corner off her eye. It was long and dark and low to the
ground and IT WAS MOVING! "Gator" she shrieked and ran around to the
front of the car.

Skinner's reflexes again were lightning quick. He saw her coming and
grabbed her tight. Jumping up onto the hood he dragged her shaking
and very naked body up along with him. They scrambled up onto the
roof of the car. Nether one cared when the metal popped and moaned
from their weight. Looking over the side, Skinner could see in the
moonlight the largest gator he had ever seen in his life. It had
stopped beside the car and wasn't moving.

"Are you alright?" He asked turning to where she sat beside him.

All right? She thought, I'm NAKED! He was acting like her boss,
polite detached concern. Fearing for her safety and she was
completely NAKED! She was naked and sitting on the top of a broken
down car in the middle of nowhere! What else could happen?

Skinner tried to control his breathing. The fear had made him gasp,
but Scully was making him hyperventilate. It was dark enough that he
didn't see all the delicious details, but the light from the moon
showed him enough to bring back his raging erection with a force that
took his breath away. And he had had his hands ALL OVER those sexy
curves.

He had two choices, grab her and spread her out over the roof of the
car and taste every inch of her or give her his shirt to wear.

Skinner sighed to himself as he took the safer choice. He quickly
unbuttoned his shirt and draped it over her shoulders. He wanted to
cry when it covered the tops of her breasts. It had been as though
they were shining in the moonlight just for him.

Susan: A lady-killer? Why he's a regular Don Swan."

Skinner was watching the alligator. It seemed to have fallen asleep
beside the car. Watching the gator was easier on his libido than
watching Scully sitting with her legs pulled up to her chin under his
white shirt.

"He's not moving. I think it's fallen asleep."

"Well, scare it away, so I can get dressed."

"How am I supposed to do that?"

"I don't know sir, throw your shoe at it or something."

Skinner pointed down to his feet. His black socks visible in the
moonlight. "I was drying off my shoes when he arrived Scully. Just
wait, he'll get hungry and leave in a minute. I think it's mating
season or something." Shit! Why'd I have to say that? Skinner
thought. "We'll just wait him out. Okay?" He tried to keep his voice
from cracking.

They sat in silence for quite a while. Scully realized that the
mosquitoes had at least stopped biting. Just in case the little
bloodsuckers came back she kept her legs tucked under Skinner's
shirt. It felt good against her skin. She thought it would be stiff,
but it felt like silk rubbing against her bare body. Each movement
was an erotic thrill. It smelled like his aftershave.

The gator moved and rustled the grass, but then lay back down to
sleep despite the anxious couple both praying he would go find some
supper or a hot date.

After about an hour of silence, Skinner couldn't take it any more. He
had to say something. Anything would do. He was normally a quiet guy,
but he just couldn't sit here with a half-dressed Scully and let his
mind wander to how she felt naked in his arms. Nothing came to mind
though. What could they talk about? Work? No, that seemed wrong after
the kiss they had shared. Movies? He doubted if she was interested in
his complete and total knowledge of every western ever made. Music?
Scully had once told him she liked classical, but he knew nothing
about that type of music and would fall asleep if she told him any of
it. He liked jazz himself, but would she be interested? Somehow he
doubted it.

Finally he remembered the bookstore. "Scully, what book did you buy
at the used bookstore?" He could feel Scully becoming more alert
beside him.

"Have His Carcase. It's by Dorothy Sayers. She's my favorite mystery
writer."

"You like mysteries huh?" Skinner wracked his brain to recall ANY
mystery he had read and came up empty.

"Sometimes I like mysteries. And I love her books. Especially her
sleuth."

"Her sleuth?"

"Yes, his name is Sir Peter Wimsey and even though they are old
fashioned I love reading about him."

Sir Peter Wimsey? He thought. What a fairy name! But he went with it.
"Okay so what's so special about Sir Peter?"

David: "Well don't lose your head Susan." Susan: "I've got my head
I've lost my leopard."

Scully stretched her legs out straight distracting him from the
conversation while he eyed her pale, bare legs in the moonlight. She
seemed to forget her state of undress and relaxed back onto her
elbows making his stomach tighten. When she crossed her slim ankles,
drawing his attention back to her legs he tightened up further south.

"Actually I like Sir Peter because he reminds me of Mulder."

Skinner felt like he had been punched in the gut. He had always
wondered at the partner's relationship, but had finally decided that
after so many years they must be just friends. If they were anything
more, surely he would know about it. Now, suddenly sitting in the
moonlight with the object of his affection sitting half dressed
within groping distance, he was unsure.

"So tell me why he reminds you of Mulder."

"Well he's brilliant, a gentleman, and a bit more dapper than Mulder,
but just as charming. I've been trying to find older hardback issues
of the books for years. Have His Carcase is the one left that I
couldn't find."

"That's nice Scully. I'm glad you found it. So tell me what kind of
mystery does he solve in this book?"

"They solve."

"Excuse me?"

"Sir Peter has a girlfriend named Harriet who is a mystery writer. I
am more interested in reading about her actually. The books are old,
but Harriet is modern and a strong character."

Great, he thought, the Mulder look alike has a girlfriend who he
solves mysteries with. This didn't look good for him. He didn't want
to hear the answer, but he had to figure out her relationship with
Mulder right now.

"So is Harriet a redhead?"

His voice was so soft she could barely hear it. What kind of a
question was that? Scully looked over at him in the dim light. His
body was still, very still. "No I think she's a brunette. Why?"

"Just wondering." He grumbled back.

They both fell silent once again. Skinner was mentally kicking
himself for reading her relationship with Mulder so wrong. She bought
romantic mysteries that reminded her of the two of them. He was the
world's biggest, most pathetic, lovesick slob!

Scully watched Skinner as close as the poor light would allow. This
was very confusing. Here they were in the middle of nowhere having
shared probably the most passionate kiss she had ever experienced and
now despite the fact that she was wearing nothing but his shirt he
wasn't laying a hand on her. And oh how she wanted him to lay his
hands on her. His bare chest seemed to glow in the moonlight. She
wanted to run her fingers down it and press her bare breast against
him. Her nipples tightened and ached at the thought of him suckling
them. Fondling them. Doing anything he wanted to do with them.

Leaning back, she looked up at the stars and pondered the mystery
that was her boss. What had the redhead comment meant and why was he
now brooding?

Luckily for Skinner she was a better sleuth than even Sir Peter.

"Mulder and I have never been involved." She finally blurted out.
"Not outside of the office I mean."

Skinner turned to look at her in the dim light.

"I love him very much and he is and always will be my best friend."

At "friend" Skinner leaned in closer wanting to see her face.

"Our relationship is confusing I know..."

Skinner stretched his long legs out beside her.

"Once we even attempted intimacy."

He paused in lying down beside her onto the warm metal of the roof.

"But then we started to laugh and we both realized..."

Skinner turned on his side so he was hovering over her.

"That we were meant to be partners in everything, but..." Scully
paused to lick her suddenly dry lips. His face was inches from her
and she could feel his breath fan her cheek.

"Everything, but love."

No more thought, no more words, he silenced it all with his lips.

Susan: "The point is I have a leopard. The question is what do I do
with it?"

Feeling Scully's lips pressed against him both soft and greedy
brought back every sensation that he had felt while kissing her by
the creek. Funny that he had compared their two favorite types of
music. This was not a powerful and soul-searching classical music
kiss nor did he feel the mellow, sexy tones of jazz flow through him.
The raw power, the driving need, and exquisitely painful anticipation
that shafted through him were pure, unadulterated, Southern Rock.

He rammed his tongue into her mouth and did battle with hers. His
hands did not hesitate to reach up under his shirt and squeeze her
breast. He pinched her hard nipple and felt her buck up under him.
Her legs spread for him and pleading noises erupted from her throat.
The urgent hunger he felt to be deep inside her threatened to over
power him. But he was not some teenager rutting in the backseat of a
car desperate to score with the head of the cheerleading squad. He
was a full-grown man with the most beautiful and desirable woman in
the world writhing underneath him. And he had every intention of
making her hear and feel every note of the pounding Rock and Roll
that was causing his hips to already grind hard against hers. Molly
Hatchet and Lynard Skynard would be proud. Walter Skinner was
"Flirtin' with disaster" and Dana Scully was about to be fucked
within an inch of her life.

The metal of the roof popped and moaned, but Scully heard none of it.
Her head was swimming around in a fog of Walter's heat, power and
scent. He had slipped between her legs that she had mindlessly spread
almost lewdly wide. His shirt had ridden up and she lost herself in
the sensation of rubbing her dripping heat against the huge bulge
threatening to rip out of his pants. She had never felt so wanton.
Her hands were feeling every inch of his hard chest. The man was like
silk over steel! She rubbed herself against him, wetting the front of
his pants with her need. The friction almost enough to make her
explode and marveled at how big and hard his cock felt.

Skinner was pinching and stroking her nipples, driving her into a
frenzy. She couldn't take it any more. Relying on her superb manual
dexterity honed from years of welding a scalpel, she attacked and
quickly undid his pants.

Skinner relied on his brute force. His shirt made a loud noise as he
ripped the offending garment up the middle to get close to her
burning skin. The buttons pinged against the metal roof of the car
before falling down onto the alligator standing watch and causing him
to bellow from the aggravation.

Scully pushed his pants down out of the way and wrapped her fingers
around his throbbing cock. Walter Skinner was huge and hard as steel
all over! She didn't flinch at his size; she wanted to feel his big
cock deep inside her. She wanted to feel him buried so far inside her
she felt him in her throat.

He reached down and cupped her. She was soaked and slick with
passion. A passion that was just for him, only for him. He felt the
intense desire to bellow like the gator, but in triumph. She gasped
and made the most amazing noise that was half scream half whimper
when he used the pad of his finger to rub over her swollen clit. He
almost came involuntarily in response.

Scully had lost all sense of her self as she ground into his hand.
Her juices quickly wetting his fingertips and dripping down to his
palm. She had to have him inside her. Right this very moment!

"Now Walter, please I can't wait."

Skinner groaned and grabbed his cock in his hand. He held it tight to
try and gain some semblance of control. Her begging him to fuck her
was almost too much. He jerked her hips up and found her entrance
then began to press his aching cock home.

So big! She thought. It was almost too much. He was stretching her
painfully wide. The pain was so incredibly pleasurable that she
arched up under him and demanded more, more, more. Skinner pressed
into her until he felt her heat and tightness had taken every rock
hard inch of him. Her body shuddered and she breathed a constant moan
of "Oh oh oh" against his open mouth. He wanted to wait until her
body was used to him, but her long hissed "Yeeeesss" did him in. He
grabbed one of her shoulders in one hand and grappled for purchase on
the metal roof with the other and began to pound into her slick
scorching heat.

Skinner's thrusts hit her deep inside and caused a shock of power
that washed over her body in waves of pleasure like she had never
known. All she could do was hang on desperately to his sweat slicked
shoulders while her head inched over the back window. He took
advantage of her neck being so exposed and nipped and sucked at the
pale sensitive skin there. Grinding her breast against him she
started to scream his name when the first orgasm crashed through her.

The force of her orgasm caused her to tighten up around his cock so
that he almost had to slow to keep from exploding. Force of will
prevented that. He wanted to hear her scream his name again.

He reached behind him and lifted her legs until they were wrapped
tightly around his body. It caused her body to rub forcefully against
him. Her battered sex ground against him until she felt herself
beginning to fly again. Never had this happened before. She tried to
beg him not to stop. She tried to beg him to do her harder. The roof
of the car continued to moan and pop under their weight. The gator
was making annoyed grunting noises on the ground below. Words were
completely beyond her so she just screamed an animalistic noise and
everything went white before her eyes.

Skinner snapped at her cry. Nothing existed except this woman under
him. Nothing mattered except the fact that he was shattering around
her. Spilling himself so deeply inside her. Losing everything he had,
deep, deep inside her. She was his and he would forever be hers.

Susan; "All that's happened, happened because I was trying to keep
you near me."

The alligator left about three A.M. Skinner silently bid him fond
farewell as he ambled off in search of whatever it was gators search
for. He tightened his arms around the sleeping redhead in his arms
and reveled in the feeling that his own search was now over.

It would probably be more comfortable for them both inside the car.
The backseat was too small for him to stretch out, but he could sit
and lay her over his lap. But then he would be deprived of being able
to watch how the moonlight shined on her hair.

At first light they could follow the road back to civilization. Then
it would only be a matter of calling the rental company and arranging
for a tow. Then they could drive back to Tampa and...Skinner couldn't
get past that thought. He didn't want to go back to D.C. now. He
wanted to drive around Florida in an old beat-up rental car and find
more interesting things to share with her.

That was when he thought of it. Scully had visited the home of one of
her favorite authors. Why couldn't he take her to visit the home of
one of his favorites? He had read The Old Man and the Sea as a
teenager and if he was not mistaken the author also had a house in
Florida. Of course it would be a long drive, but she would love the
scenery.

August was not the best time to go there because of the heat, but
Skinner had a vision of them visiting the beautiful Florida city.
After walking along the pier at sunset seeing the street performers
he could take her back to the room and run ice cubes all over her
sun-warmed flesh.

At that tantalizing thought, he couldn't resist running his hands up
her smooth legs and cupping her bottom. A gentle squeeze and she
snuggled in closer against him and nuzzled his neck.

"Our friend the gator has left. Do you want to get into the car?" He
felt Scully's lips brush his neck and her tongue flick out to taste
him. "Let's stay here." she hummed against his neck. "Maybe we'll get
lucky and he'll come back."

Skinner chuckled and bent his head down to cover her lips with his
own.

"'Til that lucky day you know quite well, baby. I can't give you
anything but love."

                              ~ End ~