From: MD1016 <md1016@aol.com>
Date: 17 Apr 2001 06:09:45 GMT
Subject: New: Last Night at Devils Lake by MD1016
Source: atxc

Gossamer: VA 
Rated: NC-17
Spoilers: 6th Season 
Keywords: MSR 
Summary: Sequel to Early


The Last Night at Devils Lake
by MD1016
(MD1016@email.com)


She found him outside, sitting on one of the massive rocks that
dotted the shore line on the north side of Devils Lake.  The
sunlight dwindled, but the complete cloud cover hid any possibility
of a sunset.  A stiff wind kicked up leaves, swirling them around
Mulder's bent legs and tousled his hair.  He didn't seem to notice,
though.  He stared out into the white-capped waves lost in
whatever had drawn him out into the cold.

Scully grabbed her jacket and headed down to the water.

The case had been disappointing for him, she knew.  The sea
monster promised by the photographs and dozens of eye witnesses
failed to materialize, and in its stead, an enormous rubber serpent
doll had been found in the barn of one of the locals.  A confession
was made, and most of the charges subsequently dropped.  After
three months worth of tourists the small town of Devils Lake,
North Dakota was enjoying a surge in its modest economy.  The
locals were happy not to live in fear, and to be able to fish in the
icy waters once again.  Scully was happy, too, because May in
Devils Lake was like the dead of winter back home, and she was
anxious to get back to the humid heat and flowers of DC.

"Disappointed?" she asked, hands buried deep in her pockets. 
"You've been dragging your feet ever since we left the Sheriff's
this afternoon."

"I'm more contemplative than disappointed, I guess."

"How so?"  She reached out her hand and he took it, helped her
pull herself up the side of the jagged rock to sit beside him.  His
large hand was warm from his own pocket, where it promptly
returned once she was settled.

"Even Byers thought the photos were the real thing.  It made me
think of all the things I've thought were sure things that haven't
turned out that way.  It makes me think of you."

"Me?" she asked, a smile stretching across her freezing cheeks. 
"Am I a sure thing?"

"You're the only thing I'm sure of anymore."  The way he said it
made her tummy tingle.

"Mulder?  You OK?  You're sounding a little morose."

"There's something I have to tell you, Scully, and I'm pretty sure
you're not going to like it."

She studied his profile for a moment, but his expression gave
nothing away.  "Well, then make it easier on both of us and just
tell me."

Mulder took a deep breath.  "OK."  He sucked on his lower lip and
then turned to face her.  His eyes were somber, his nose and chin
red from the wind.  "Last Tuesday I told you I was going to visit
my mother's grave.  That was a lie."

Stunned and concerned, Scully eked out, "You lied to me?"

"I've been in contact with your mother."

"What?!"  A shiver worked its way up her spine, all the blood rush
from her face.  

"Not much contact.  It's not like we've been hanging out and
shooting hoops.  I called her after you didn't hear from her at
Easter.  She picked up as soon as she heard my voice.  I think she
was terrified that something had happened to you."

Scully peered across the distant shore at the lights of a cabin
shining in the twilight.  "Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"I'm getting to that."  He cleared his throat, buying time for
whatever it was that he didn't want her to hear.  "The letter you
sent - that you assumed she was actively ignoring - she never got it. 
Bill visited three times between New Years and Easter.  He
intercepted it."

"How do you know this?"

"I went to see him."

"WHAT?!"  Scully couldn't contain her anger.  She didn't want to. 
"You deliberately went behind my back -"

"Last Tuesday.  Your mother told me he was in town.  I went to
see him."

Scully shook her head in disbelief.  "Why?  You know how he
feels about you.  They've disowned me for Christsake!"


"I know it seemed like that, Scully.  But I couldn't accept it as
blindly as you.  God...those words sound strange coming out of my
mouth."  He shifted beside her and pulled something small from
his pant pocket.  

"Then why hasn't she called?  Tuesday was more than a week ago."

Mulder winced.  "Because of what I said when I was there.  I know
I shouldn't have gone.  Hell, I knew it before I ever left, but I
wanted to make things better for you.  I needed to."

"Mulder?" she asked, wary of any answer he might give her. 
"What did you say?"

"Please understand that I really did feel I had to go, because they're
your family...because you're father's dead," he said.  

Scully sat up a little straighter.  "My father?"  Her father died
before they'd been partners a year.  What did his death have to do
with Mulder's surprise visit six years later?

"I went to ask...well, not ask really, but the idea's the same.  I went
to declare my intention to marry you."

Speechless, Scully sat and gaped.  He said the M word.  The Big M
Word.  Her whole body went tingly, and she was fairly sure it
wasn't the wind.

He took in her shock and gave her a painful grin.  "It seemed the
thing to do."  Then he opened his hand and a perfect black velvet
box sat ominously in the center of his palm.

A black velvet box.  A ring box.  Heat tingled in her cheeks and
chest, and suddenly Scully found it difficult to catch her breath. 
"Oh, God," she murmured under her breath.  He was serious.

"And actually, I'm glad that I did."  He considered the small box,
turning it over in his hand.  "I realized while Bill had me pressed
against a wall that a proposal from me would force you to chose
between your family and me.  That's something I can't ever do to
you."

"He had you...are you OK?  You didn't hurt him, did you?-"

"No, and I'm fine," he said, irritated. 

"Mulder, there's no choice for me.  My family has already made
that decision for me.  I meant what I said when I came back from
the family reunion.  You are my family."

"You'll think differently when you see them again."

"And when will that be?  No, I've already made attempts at
reconciliation, and not only have I been the only one, but I've been
completely ignored.  They don't respect me, or my career.  They
refuse to accept you -"

"I'm not saying that I'm OK with how you've been treated.  I just
think that if you write them off completely...someday you'll learn
to regret it."  There was a sadness in his voice; a quiet misery that
she'd never heard from him before.  "I want you to give them
another chance.  They haven't truly disowned you, I don't think
anyone could.  It's impossible not to love you, Scully.  In the end, I
know, that love will always win out."

Gently he took her hand and pressed the box against her frozen
fingers.  Scully wasn't sure what to do.  Had he just proposed?  She
didn't remember him actually saying the words.  He didn't wait for
an answer, either.  He slipped down the front of the boulder before
she even opened the box.  Slowly, he made his way back to their
cabin, hand in his jacket pockets, slouch in his shoulders.

The box weighed almost nothing in her hand.  She viewed it like
Pandora's box, not sure what opening it would lead to.  He meant
her to have it, he'd actually placed it in her hand.  Beyond that it
was all conjecture.

The light in their cabin flicked on, and then the porch light
followed.  For a moment she watched him moving in there,
wondering why he would give her a ring with the question to go
with it.  She held her breath and opened the damn thing.  Instantly
tears flooded behind her lashes.

It was a simple slender gold band widening into delicate lace work
on either side a square diamond.  It was difficult to see in the
dimming light, but Scully was able to make out tiny twin stars
entwined in the lace, one on either side.  One for each of them. 
The ring was exquisite.  Her hands shook when she pulled it from
the box.

He bought her a ring; it was almost too much to fathom.  What a
totally uncharacteristic thing for him to do.  Never in a million
years would she have pegged him for a traditional man.  He even
went to her family, for christsake.

The tears burned on her cheeks when the wind stirred.  She
glanced back at the cabin, but he'd moved from the view of the
windows.  He gave her the ring, but did he expect her to put it on? 
Did he even want her to?  Bent on finding out, she jammed the
ring back in the box, slid off the rock and marched back to the
cabin.

She found Mulder kneeling in front of the fireplace coaxing a
small flame to spread over the layers of newspaper the lodge had
provided.  

"It's beautiful," she told him, not bothering to wait for his full
attention.  "It must've cost you a fortune."

"Money is no object," he quipped, and then gave her a small smile
over his shoulder.  "But I'm glad you like it.  I'm not sure I kept the
receipt."

"I didn't know that you wanted to get married."   He kept looking at
her, and she kept talking.  "I mean...that you were even interested
in the institution of marriage.  As more than just a concept. 
Something that other people do."  

"I wasn't really.  Until recently."  He put the brass poker down and
scooted back across the plush rug until he leaned against the
overstuffed sofa.  "Honestly, I never assumed there would ever be
anyone to marry.  And then I met you."

"You met me six years ago."

"Yeah.  I know."  He cleared his throat.  "Your mother mentioned
something about marriage a couple of months ago, and it got me
thinking.  I never really thought I was the marrying type because
inevitably every person I've ever loved has walked away.  But, I
think, even if you decided tomorrow that you've had enough and
walked out, I'd follow you, Scully.  You're It for me.  No matter
what happens, I know you're the One.  The only One."  It was a
clumsy admission, but it made her heart sing.

She dropped her coat on the floor behind her and dove for him. 
They landed flat against the couch, her hand holding his head still
so she could attack his mouth with hers.  Her tongue found his
eager to duel.  His knees came up between her legs, and they
shifted until she slipped into that perfect position above him where
her body and his fit so perfectly together.  

"I love you," she gasped between kissing his mouth and chin.  She
worked her way down to the soft, smooth skin where his neck met
his shoulder until his shirt got in the way.

She sat up enough to tug his shirt from his pants and start on the
buttons.  He watched her undress him, ran his hands up and down
her upper arms while she worked.  He always enjoyed watching
her.

When his shirt fell open she slid to the floor beside him and
worked at his belt, and then the button beneath.  The expanse of
his bare chest distracted her though, and she abandoned his
clothing in favor of skin.  Slowly she slid her fanned hands up his
stomach and over his broad chest.  She toyed with the patches of
soft hair and the firm beads of his nipples.  His skin was so soft,
even the white scars that dotted his sides and shoulders were like
silk under her finger tips.

Briefly she went back to his mouth to kiss him deeply before
dipping lower and tasting the salty sweetness of his flesh.  He
made little grunts and groans, encouraging her oral exploration. 
She worked her way lower, running the tip of her tongue against
the ridges of his stomach muscles that rippled as she kissed him. 
The fingers of his left hand wove themselves through her hair
when she found his bellybutton.  For a while she dipped her tongue
in the shallow hollow there, and bit at the sensitive flesh that
surrounded it as her hand explored up the inside of his leg and
thigh.  His breaths came faster.

One of the best parts about making love to Mulder was how
responsive his body was to her touch.  She adored the way he
unconsciously licked his lower lip, the clenching muscles in his
legs and tight ass, the way his eyes became mesmerizing black
pools; deep, fathomless, soulful, so beautiful they broke her heart.
When she ran her fingers up the underside of his clothed erection
he squeezed his eyes tightly shut and hissed in pleasure, when she
reached lower to cup the hot bulge between his legs he whimpered. 
She leaned over him to lightly graze his moist lips with hers. 
Another throaty grumble from Mulder when she squeezed signaled
the end of his passive tolerance of her seduction.  Before Scully
knew what was happening, he pushed her down on the rug and
rolled on top of her.  

It never ceased to amaze her how perfectly he fit between her
thighs.  The stiff protrusion of his erection pressed perfectly into
her most sensitive parts, and even with the layers of clothing still
between them, Scully found herself rocking her hips in time with
his.

His shirt hung open; an obvious invitation for her to rake her
fingers through the patches of his chest hair before wrapping
around his sides and exploring under the cotton on his back.  He
kissed her ear and neck, but Scully was busy sucking the freckled
roundness of his shoulder to give him any verbal encouragement. 
The taste of him, the feel of his muscles moving beneath her
swollen lips and tongue, the sound of his breath catching when she
worked her nails down and inside the back of his briefs made her
heart race even faster.  

A loud pop from the fireplace startled them, and Scully held her
breath as she turned to see the blaze that the fire had become.  It
was beautiful, its heat basking her tingling lips and cheeks. 
Mulder, too, looked to be sure the fire was under control, and it
reflected in his pupils, flickering like the light that always seemed
to blaze within him.  When he gazed back down into her eyes the
desire she saw in him was nearly overwhelming.

They worked furiously to removed their pants as quickly as
possible.  She got his down past his hips, and grasped his hot
erection just as he pushed her panties and pants together down to
her knees.  Scully managed to kick them off one leg before he
grabbed her thigh and pressed it open.  With mutual moans, she
guided him home.

Their bodies worked together to create a steady rhythm.  One of
his hands snaked inside her shirt and under her bra.  She reached
down and pulled his hips a little higher on her body, until his
pelvic bone hit her perfect spot with each of his thrusts.  His
muscles played under her fingertips, and she memorized them. 
She wanted to remember everything about this night with him, so
that she would always know what it felt like to be so utterly loved,
how it felt to love him so completely.

Scully reached up with her mouth and kissed him, lured him closer
with her lips.  Over and over her tongue plunged into his mouth,
caressing, exploring; a small imitation to the pleasure he gave her. 
Slowly, a wonderful pressure began to build in some far off place
of her abdomen.  

Mulder felt it, too.  "Oh, God!  Scu..."  His cadence inside her
wavered, and he abandoned her kisses to dig his teeth into her
shoulder - Mulder's way of trying to hold on.  Scully had a better
idea.

"Mulder," she whispered to get his attention.  

"Scu..." was his breathy response.

She dropped one of her knees and clumsily rolled the two of them
over, Mulder was far too gone to help.  When he was flat on his
back, his hands shot to her hips and they both breathed in the
shooting pleasure that gravity added.  With her firmly planted on
top, he pushed even deeper inside her.  It took a moment or two for
Scully to recover.  When she did, she took Mulder's caressing hand
from her belly and moved it lower.  His thumb instinctively knew
to work tiny circles over the tiny kernel of flesh and nerve just
above where they were joined.

Scully began to rock.  She pressed her palms into his solid chest
for support and watched the play of pleasure and adoration on his
face.  "Faster," was his only request, and she was only to happy to
oblige.

Pressure, pleasure, and then a rush of heat that over-flowed into
pinpricks of pure, unadulterated bliss.  The pressure of her on-
coming climax reasserted itself, and Scully closed her eyes to
concentrate on bringing it home.  Their rhythm became more
frantic as it drew closer.  Mulder's thumb worked harder.  

Then, all at once, the wave over-took her, and Scully cried out. 
Suns exploded behind her eyelids, the world spun.  All at once she
was weightless and far too heavy to move.  Some where far away
her body continued to convulse around him.  But now he was on
top, pounding into her, pushing himself to that one perfect
moment, burning to join her again.  Her body slowly drifted back.

She loved the way he rammed into her with the same drive and
fervor that he pursued everything in life.  And, as his own climax
flooded through him, she loved the way he sank into her arms as
he drifted, momentarily lost to the absolute beauty of the moment.

If she had only Mulder to make love to for the rest of her life,
Scully would be the most contented woman on the planet.

For a while she stroked the hair from his face.  Her body cooled,
despite the blaze from the hearth and Mulder limp form hugging
her to the floor rug.  A kiss on her arm told her he was beginning
to recover.

"The ring is beautiful," she told him.  She felt him smile against
her.

"I want to be married to you, Scully."

"I want to be married to you, too."  The rest, she decided, was all
semantics.


End.

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