From: Kate Rickman Date: Tue, 13 Apr 1999 07:25:17 -0400 Subject: If You Wake (1/1) Kate Rickman TITLE: If You Were To Wake Up... AUTHOR: Kate Rickman E-MAIL: kate.rickman@mindspring.com ARCHIVE: sure, fine. RATING: R for mild profanity and sex CLASSIFICATION: A (Mulder), MSR SPOILERS: Not really. SUMMARY: Mulder tries to drown his love for Scully in a tall glass of beer at a cowboy bar. Scully shows him that fantasies can come true. DISCLAIMER: How could I possibly make any money off of this? AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hounded into buying a new stock of CDs for the lab, I headed straight to the bargain bin and picked out a selection of oldies. One of them, *Lyle Lovett and His Large Band,* included this song. I thought, OK, sure, I can do something with this. *** Blaine, Iowa Last night, 1:23 AM The simple strains of a solo guitar drifted through the smoky room. Friendly shadows hung from the walls and ceiling, cloaking the few hardy patrons still drinking, smoking, listening at this early hour of the morning. Fox Mulder was one of them. He sat in a corner booth toying with a tall glass of beer, half empty. Just another night at a Budget Motel in Ohio. No, make that Idaho. Wait a minute, that's wrong, too. Iowa. Blaine, Iowa. He took a sip of his beer, dipped a finger in the puddle of condensation and traced a series of X-es across the tabletop. One X for exactly what they'd turned up on this case. They'd rushed off to Idawa--no, Iowa--in pursuit of strange lights and crop circles that had turned out to be nothing more than the handiwork of mischievous schoolboys. One X for Midwest Airways, that sidelined the one puddle-jumper scheduled to leave Blaine Regional Airport for the rest of the world tonight. Another X for the town of Blaine. A lovely town, but a town with one motel and one restaurant--in the motel--serving meat and potatoes and meat and more potatoes. Meat and potatoes sat like a block in the pit of his stomach. A big X for Mulder himself, who spent the past two days utterly fascinated by the soft skin at the base of Scully's neck, the way her hair curled around her ears when she tucked it back, and the cleavage that flirted with him from the top of her scoop-necked blouse. He had struggled to keep his mind on the investigation ...most of the time. Then finally one X and an O for Scully, sleeping peacefully in her room next to his empty one while he sat down here, wide awake with his thoughts. He took another long pull at the beer. Mulder, if you know what's good for you, you will leave the dreams to Scully tonight. Scattered applause preceded a new song and a change of key. The tune sounded vaguely familiar. Mulder looked at the musician for the first time, a tall, rangy fellow in regulation Cowboy Gear--the hat, the boots, the jeans, the string tie. He was remarkably good for someone singing in a low-rent motel in a small town. One couple rose quietly and moved out of the gloom onto the dimly-lit dance floor, twined then swayed slowly to the music. If you were to wake up And I were beside you Would you gently smile dear And whisper my name Mulder's eyes followed the couple as they moved through the song. The man, tall and lean, towered over his tiny partner. He folded her close against him and danced with his face submerged in the long brown hair that curled over the top of her head and across her shoulders. The thin light over the dance floor filtered through the cigarette smoke, bathing the pair in a sepia haze. And would you remember The way that I held you And would you want me To hold you again. Watching them, Mulder's eyes fell closed and opened again. Now he saw Scully's hair fanned out in a red cloud over the pillow beneath her head, tousled from their passionate lovemaking of the night before. Her lips bloomed rose-red against the pale skin of her face, her long lashes lay dark across her cheekbones. The sheet that covered her had slipped from one shoulder, exposing a creamy expanse of skin and one perfect breast, its nipple erect in the cool morning air. In the morning light that filtered through the curtains, he saw his hand reach out for her, tracing a line up her arm, across her shoulder, and into the hair behind her ear. He felt the silk of her hair slide through his fingers as he brushed it away from her face with small, gentle strokes. He heard a faint moan slip from her throat as she stirred and opened her eyes. A sleepy smile spread across her face as she whispered "Mulder" and reached for him. His gentle touch had aroused her. He dipped his head and lightly brushed his lips against hers then lifted the sheet and slid along her warmth until he lay pressed against her from heel to throat. "Mulder." She stroked his back with gentle hands, rolling beneath him. He lay between her legs, his erection brushing her sex. Urged forward by the pressure of her embrace, he.... "Mulder." She said his name louder this time. Mulder blinked as Naked Panting Wanting Scully segued into Vaguely Irritated Scully, the woman standing next to his booth. Her hair curled wildly around her face, from sleep and from being pulled through the small neck of the black T-shirt she'd carelessly stuffed into a pair of well-worn jeans. Oops, busted. His eyes flicked up at her face, then away. He was grateful for the solid expanse of wooden tabletop between Scully and certain revealing parts of himself. He lifted the glass of beer to his lips, buying some time to gather his composure. "What's up?" Mulder choked. If she only knew. He sputtered and put down the glass, wiping his lips with the fingers of one hand. Scully administered a manly slap on the back to assist him in his recovery. No, no, Scully. That's not how I want you to touch my back. I want your arms wrapped tightly around me. I want to feel your nails dig into my skin as you scream my name. I want.... No no, Mulder. Don't go there. "Seriously, Mulder, are you OK?" Scully looked carefully into his face. No, I'm not OK. I have a hard-on the size of Jupiter and the object of my arousal is standing between me and a discreet escape. "...when I didn't hear your TV, I got up to investigate and found your bed empty and the car keys still on the table where you dropped them." "I couldn't sleep, Scully. I just came down here to think." Mulder risked looking up and found himself staring straight into her breasts, thinly covered with black cotton knit. And nothing else. Take me now, Lord. He diverted his gaze to the ceiling. "And to drink?" She pointed a finger at the nearly empty glass standing in a field of faint X-marks. Mulder let his breath out in a gust. "A few." "Scoot over." He looked up in time to see her nicely rounded posterior heading straight for him. Obediently, he slid a foot deeper into the booth. Scully settled next to him, her hip touching his hip and the heat of her leg warming him through two layers of denim. As he watched, she took the glass and swallowed its contents. In slow motion, she lowered the glass and licked the foam from her upper lip, her pink tongue gliding from one side of her mouth to the other. Mesmerized, Mulder watched her tongue as it slipped between her lips and into her mouth, then followed the glass on its path back to the table. Scully reached out and traced over a faint X and O with one finger, then looked Mulder directly in the eye. Unabashed, Mulder returned her look, allowing his gaze to probe deeply into the dark blue pools of her eyes. He found himself sliding without resistance into their depths, warmth closing over his head like a tropical wave. Say hallelujah. Scully's defenses were down tonight. The music changed to a moody piece, undulating rhythms and key changes. "Dance with me." Mulder needed to hold her in his arms. He took a chance. Scully hesitated for a moment, then slid out of the booth and moved slowly toward the dance floor. The walk, her before him, was a waltz that wove between empty tables and around vacant chairs. Their world was deserted but for Mulder, Scully and the music that drifted around and over them as they stepped onto the hardwood and turned to face each other. Mulder opened his arms to Scully and she stepped into them, slipping her arms around his waist and burying her face in the soft knit of his sweater. She settled against him, fitted her hips against his, and began to move in time with the music. Mulder buried his face in her hair and followed her into the melody. He knew that she had to feel the heat of his erection where it pressed against her belly, but he didn't care. He wanted her to know what she did to him. If he couldn't bring himself to confess how he felt about her, at least he could show her hard evidence of his love. As the music unfolded, they moved slowly around the dance floor, lost in the rhythm and each other. The music changed into a slower tune, a delicate instrumental in a major key. Mulder dipped his head, resting his cheek against Scully's cheek, his lips grazing the delicate skin of her neck. He gently rubbed her back through the soft cotton T-shirt as they swayed in time to the music. Willingly seduced by the night and the mood and the music and an intoxicating dose of Eau de Mulder, Scully sighed and relaxed into him, pressing her cheek against his. As they drifted through the music, the seven years they'd spent together came into focus for Mulder--the laughter, the arguments; the times he had been there for Scully and she for him; how together they were greater than the sum of their two personalities; how they had stood united against their foes. He knew before this moment that he was desperately in love with Dana Scully but, for him, this moment marked the end of the time when he only could desperately need Scully and the beginning of the time when he would be able to show her how much he loved her. He hoped. A gentle cough interrupted Mulder's dreams. "Closing time." The tone was apologetic. With a sigh, he dragged himself back to the present and looked down into Scully's face. The dreamy passion in her eyes as they scanned his face stunned Mulder for an instant. He hesitated, then brushed a gentle kiss across her lips, reaching up to touch her cheek with shaking fingers before stepping away. He fished a large bill out of his front pocket and pressed it into the hand of the musician. "Thank you," said Mulder earnestly. "It was my pleasure." The musician touched the brim of his hat before taking his guitar and leaving the room through a side door. As the door clicked shut, Mulder turned to Scully and held out his hand. Wordlessly, she closed her fingers around his and followed him out of the bar and up the stairs. As they approached the door of Mulder's room, he slipped his hand from hers, afraid to take the lead. He could read all the signs and indications just like any man, but this was Scully. She was in a class by herself, with rules of her own. The stakes were too high for him to risk an error of judgment while operating under the influence of unbridled lust. He slowed his pace and allowed her to move ahead, asking her without words to choose the room they would enter. Mulder hesitated in front of his door and Scully stepped forward to hers. She turned with an inquiring look, then reached back and took his hand, drawing him forward with her, to her door, into her room. Mulder turned to her in the darkness. "Scully, I..." he began. "Shssh." Scully placed her fingers against his mouth. "No words, Mulder." She slid her arms around his neck, cupped the back of his head with hand and brought his mouth down to hers. "We don't need words," she whispered against his lips before she kissed him. Mulder's world imploded. His fantasies had fallen far short of even beginning to describe the taste and feel of Scully's lips beneath his. He worked his mouth against hers, lightly at first, then deepening the pressure as passion overwhelmed him. Her lips opened easily. She tasted of Scully and beer. He had been thirsty, so thirsty for so long. Mulder moaned into her mouth as she slipped her hands beneath his sweater, gliding her palms around his sides and along his back. Her tongue caressed his as he delved into the secrets of her mouth. The pulse pounding in his ears deafened him to the whispers of his insecurities. They tried to tell him that he had stepped over the wrong line, that he would fall flat on his face, that he would lose Scully forever if he kept on doing what he was doing. Blessedly deaf to everything but the incredible sounds coming from Scully's throat, he awkwardly pulled at the back of her T-shirt and tugged it upward, following the hem with a sweep of his palm against the smooth skin of her back. The motion threw him off balance. Stumbling, Mulder felt the sharp edge of an unfamiliar table bite into his thigh. He staggered backward, away from the pain. "Ow." Scully sensed the point of impact, bent and gently rubbed the spot. The pain melted away, heat radiating from her healing touch. She straightened, trailing her hand up the side of his leg, slipping her fingers beneath the waistband of his jeans, bringing her hand around to the fastener at the front. She looked into his eyes for permission as she pushed up his sweater, baring his chest. She suckled one nipple gently. He gasped at the moist tickle of her tongue against his sensitive skin, helpfully pulling his sweater over his head with shaky arms, tossing it into the darkness. "Open your eyes, Mulder." The words fluttered against his neck. Could this really be happening? Or would he just blink and find himself back at the bar, alone as usual, listening to a country song about love and loss? "Am I dreaming?" He whispered aloud before opening one eye cautiously. Scully answered in the negative with a quick tug at the front of his 501s, followed by a firm stroke of her hand down the length of him, through his silky boxers. "Scully!" Her name squeaked past the large, pulsing heart stuck at the back of his throat. His eyes were as wide open as they would ever be. She pulled at his jeans, peeling them down his legs. Mulder toed off his shoes and helpfully lifted first one foot and then the other so that he stood before her clad only in his boxer shorts. Thin light leaked into the room around the drapes. Scully's form, outlined in silver, twisted sinuously in the gloom. Her T-shirt floated over her head and was gone; she bent and her jeans skidded away. Then she stood naked before him. Mulder found to his amazement that his voluntary muscle system still functioned voluntarily. He quickly shed the last shred of his clothing and reached for Scully. He laced the fingers of both hands through her hair, stroking it away from her face, caressing her temples with his thumbs. Scully's head rolled back on her shoulders and a sound of contentment rumbled in her chest. He then traced the outline of her arms, feeling her silky skin slide beneath his hands. He found her breasts in the darkness and cupped them, one in each hand, teasing the nipples lightly. Scully's hands settled on his hips, drawing him toward her as she stepped back and lay down on the invisible bed. Mulder abandoned himself willingly to her lead, following her onto the bed, into her arms. For the second time that night, he felt the fiery heat of her core as it opened to him. But for the first time that night, he sank down into her embrace, melding his body with hers. "I love you." The words burst from him without premeditation. After a brief moment of panic at his spontaneous confession, he continued. "I meant what I said in the hospital. Truly, deeply, without reservation. It wasn't drugs talking, Scully. It was me." Scully wrapped her legs around his hips. "I know, Mulder. I love you too." "You don't have to say that." Mulder dropped his forehead to her chest, doubts returning. "I mean it." She teased his chin so that he raised his head and looked into her eyes. "Shut up and love me, Mulder." She rocked her hips against his the make the point. She made the point. This is not a dream, this is not a dream, Mulder chanted to himself as he looked down to where their bodies joined, watching himself slide in and out of her. This can't be a dream and feel this good, he thought as the fireball built in his belly, flames licking down his limbs, consuming him slowly from the inside out. This can't be a dream because she's never been this beautiful in my dreams, her head thrown back on the pillow, her lips parted, breathing in ragged gasps that sometimes sound like my name. But if this is a dream, Lord, please let me die now, before I wake up, he prayed as Scully arched against him and cried out, shuddering around him with her climax. He would later swear that he saw the bright white light at the moment of his release, but he exploded and fell to earth safely in Scully's arms, knowing at last that this was real. *** Nirvana 9:45 AM this morning Morning sunlight floods the room. Bed linens tumble off one side of the bed and onto the floor, discarded in the midst of last night's passionate lovemaking. Mulder stands at the window, watching Scully sleep. Scully lies on her back, one hand thrown out to the side, her hair curling wildly around her head. Her lips, still swollen from the night before, are slightly parted. Both breasts lie exposed to the cold morning air, nipples puckered provocatively. She murmurs something in her sleep that draws Mulder to the bed. He slides carefully onto the mattress and lies close enough to feel the heat radiating from her sleeping form. He does not touch her, wanting to prolong this beautiful moment. She must sense his presence because she stirs, mumbling his name at her moment of awakening. She reaches for him as if it were customary to find him in her bed. Mulder rolls over her, taking her in his arms and burying his face against her neck. So beautiful. So very beautiful. Scully shifts and captures his lips with hers. He slips between her legs, cups her face between his hands, and pulls back so that he can see into her eyes. "Good Morning, Sleepyhead." "Good Morning, yourself." Her voice is husky with sleep. She strokes his back gently, a dreamy smile spreading across her face. He lies between her legs, his erection brushing her sex. Urged forward by the pressure of her embrace, he sinks into her, losing himself completely, then finding himself again in her love. *** END (1/1) -- ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ kate.rickman@mindspring.com