From: "Kim McCarthy" Date: Thu, 29 May 2003 14:28:58 +0000 Subject: midnight Source: direct Title: Midnight at the Oasis (1/1) Author: Kimogen. Summary: Nightclub-smut. Rating: NC-17. Spoilers: None, its my own little world. Distribution: Anywhere - but please let me know so that I can visit. Disclaimer: If I owned them they'd never be allowed on prime-time. Feedback: Will be loved like chocolate - but with less calories, because I'm on a diet Kimogen5@hotmail.com The music is loud. So loud his head is pounding in time with the beat. He wonders how these young people listen to such noise. It isn't music. Then he wonders if this means that he is old. Everyone at this goddamn club is young and hip. They are all dressed right, they all have the right cars, the right accessories. This place is where the in-crowd hang. He looks sideways to the girl on his right. *She* is beautiful. She has it all. Why does she have it all when he doesn't? What makes this blond girl special and him ordinary? He grimaces as he realises that every person standing at the bar is younger than him. Every one of them dressed better. The guy to his left probably has a better car. A better salary. It sickens him. He feels his rage boil, bringing him lose once again. He knows that tonight, he is close once again. Close enough to cross the line. He blends into the crowd, letting it swallow him. That is why he chooses places like this, because its easy to be consumed by the masses. He stands, hovering by the wall. He watches and he waits. xxx Mulder is angry with her. She can feel it from where she stands and she doesn't know why. She hasn't done anything to hurt him, or offend him, just for a change. But she can still feel the waves of anger radiating from him. It thrills her. She cannot explain it, wonders whether it makes her deranged, but still it excites her. Sometimes she surprises herself. She wonders if she still surprises him, if she ever has. She stands by the bar, leaning forward slightly, trying to catch the attention of the harassed bartender. The room is crowded, so crowded that she feels herself pressed into the glass front of the bar and is glad of the fact that there is a metal rim around its base that she can stand on to make her a few inches taller. Otherwise, she'd never be seen in this crush. She's always wondered what that rim is for - certain that it isn't intended for small people to stand on, yet always grateful for its presence. She smiles at the stupidity of her train of thought and when she looks up again she catches the eye of the barman and indulges her frivolous mood with a ridiculously named cocktail. Mulder would chastise her if he were near enough to see what she has in her hand - this monstrosity of pink fizz and silly umbrellas and a plastic-looking cherry. But he isn't. So he can't. Scully smiles at her own small defiance. Things like this drink make him angry. Because it is out of character of her. He thinks that she always chooses the wrong moment to be unpredictable. And maybe she does. But how can there be a right time to be unpredictable? Is it even unpredictable if it is at the right time? She moves away from the crush of the bar, feeling bereft once free of the furore of the crowd. Being surrounded by so many beautiful young people makes her feel alive. Having to spend her days surrounded by so many anally retentive civil servants all day every day has made her like them. She regrets that. He watches as she reaches the table and sets her drink down. She takes a moment to smooth her skirt, makes a show of straightening the lace tops of her hold-ups. That surprises him. She is never overtly sexual at the office - and this is an assignment. She shouldn't be acting differently. But she is. Fox Mulder is startled to realise that she is actually enjoying this place. She likes it here. She's fitting in with the setting. This realisation makes him sad. He had no idea that she would ever like a place like this. He is angered by the fact that even after seven years, she is still an enigma to him. He frowns and moves closer. He has the suspect in sight and wants to be close to her, just in case. As the bait, she is in the most danger. Even though he is angry with her, he is afraid for her. He can sense her nervous energy and wants her to know he is near. As Mulder moves closer, so does the suspect. They both have their eyes on the pretty little red-head seated alone at the table. She is glancing around her, maybe waiting for a friend, her mobile phone in her hand. The two men look up at the same time and for an instant, make eye-contact. Mulder stops in his tracks. Static buzzes in his ear-piece. He backs off, remembering. He *has* to let the suspect approach her. Dana Scully was chosen for this job based on her looks: his partner is uniquely beautiful. Her fair skin, red hair and slight figure mean that she fits the pattern. Her experience in such assignments makes her ideal for the job. They know who this guy is, they just have to catch him. The suspect moves in. He drops himself into the chair beside Scully and Mulder moves backwards into the crowd. He watches closely and realises that the suspect is watching him. He wishes he could be closer but has to move around the corner, out of sight, his heart suddenly hammering in his chest. He has a bad feeling about this guy. Mulder utters a prayer up to a god he doesn't believe in - his sudden, irrational anger from a moment ago now gone. Now he just wants her to be safe. Scully smiles at the man who is approaching her. She sees that he is concentrating on someone stood a short distance behind her. She knows that it is Mulder. His anger is gone now, and she prays that he will walk away, let her do her job. He does and the suspect sits down, taking her hand tightly in his. She feels suddenly dirty doing this. Like she is selling herself off. She hopes this is over quickly, that she doesn't have to spend much longer holding hands with this horrid little man. She wants Mulder. She suddenly wants to be home on her couch, with Mulder, a pizza and a video. She would even watch 'Caddyshack' if that was what he wanted. Anything just to be away from here. Then she sees the knife. She gives the signal, startling him by knocking over her drink and disarming him quickly and professionally. She has him pinned, face down, across the table with his arms behind his back, before the team had even swept in. She never even pulls her gun. A handsome young male agent touches her arm and she manoeuvres to allow him to cuff the struggling man. She tugs his arm sharply, making him wince, before relinquishing him to the team of supporting agents. She drops the knife she still holds into an evidence bag held out by a woman dressed in tight leather trousers. The music pounds relentlessly around her and Scully realises then how surreal the whole situation really is. As she watches the team begin to lead the man away, Mulder finally finds her. A crowd had formed as Scully disarmed the man, fascinated people drawn to the scene by the innate morbid fascination that captivates all human beings. He manages at last to push through the crowd and rushes to her. She sees him and smiles. "A job well done, Agent," She tells him, mildly pleased with herself and immensely relieved that the whole thing is over. He nods, accepting that she is safe now, but his stomach refuses to stop churning and he is aware that the worried expression still hasn't left his face. Her use of formal address hasn't helped things. He can't read her when her professional façade is so rigidly in place. Then she looks up at him and lays a hand on his arm. His earlier, unexplainable anger is long forgotten, replaced by concern for her and she is thankful, but would never tell him that. "Come on, you look like you could do with a drink." Mulder gives her a puzzled look. This comment is uncharacteristic of Dr. Scully. She raises an eyebrow that says *don't question me*. As they approach the bar, Mulder hangs back, allowing Scully to push her way through the throng of people. She returns with two drinks, some spirit poured over ice. She hands him one and he frowns, bemused. "Just drink it." She is close now, pressed against him by the mass of people behind her. He can see that her mood is dark now, replacing the frivolity that made her seem so much younger earlier. She isn't smiling now. Her clothes make her seem strange to him, different. Her outfit makes her unfamiliar and Mulder cannot decide whether or not he likes this new, sexual image she presents tonight. He realises that he was angry earlier because he had never seen her like this. He is familiar with the impeccably groomed Scully, with her tailored business suits and blow-dried hair. Now, he isn't sure he knows the woman who has tipped back her head and is proceeding to tip fiery bourbon down her throat. She is stunning - perhaps more so than his demure partner. She is dressed all in black: short black skirt barely concealing hold-ups and black stilettos with silver heels and ankle straps that make her legs impossibly long for someone so tiny. Her shirt is tight and open to reveal a black beaded choker and a generous amount of her creamy cleavage. Her usually understated beauty is undeniable to him tonight. Fear causes his heart to speed up again. Then he looks into her eyes and he knows her. Mulder lets out a sigh of relief. He suddenly wants to touch her. Scully takes a step back, watching Mulder watching her. He takes a moment to realise that he is caught and another moment to realise that he is frowning. He quickly breaks into a sheepish smile. He feels like a schoolboy - in love with his teacher. The woman who stands before him is so provocative he can barely keep his hands away from her. Scully looks up at him, raising one eyebrow. She wonders what to do next. She isn't ready to leave. The night is charged with electricity and she doesn't want to go home to her dark apartment. Suddenly, Mulder decides for her. Tonight, an opportunity has been presented to him and he cannot let it get away. He knocks back the drink. Mulder slams the glass down onto the table and moves to the bar. He returns with two more drinks, hands her one and downs his own. Scully does the same, gasping at the burn of the liquor and shaking out her hair. So, they are staying. She is shoved from behind and stumbles forward. Mulder catches her and holds her up. She smiles sheepishly up at him. He grins back and his eyes are dark and unreadable in the flashing lighting of the nightclub. Two more rounds of drinks follow. Still not a word has been exchanged, just smouldering glances. Scully feels her breathing quicken as his eyes burn into hers for the thousandth time that evening. Its funny because they have known each other so long, together every day, yet its only in this instant that she realises that she wants him so badly. Making a decision, she steps away from where they are pressed against the bar, knowing instinctively that he will follow. The lights in the club are low and pulsing and the throbbing bass of the music matches the intensity of the couple moving through the gyrating crowds. Scully weaves through the throngs of dancing people, searching for a place of her own. Finally, she discovers a space and moves into it, strutting to the beat almost instinctively. She begins to dance, moving her hips confidently before she glances over her shoulder, checking that Mulder has found her. The lights dim suddenly and Scully feels a panic rise in her throat, unable to see her partner. Then she feels a hand against the small of her back and she knows that it is him. The music rises and swells and the lights blaze red overhead just as she turns to face him with a coy little smile to disguise her momentary inner turmoil. He grins and Scully realises that her sudden fear was irrational and silly. She wonders where it came from. Scully turns her back once more and continues her sexy little dance. Mulder feels a tightening in his pants and wonders why he wore jeans. With so many pretty girls around, especially the beauty before him, self-control is simply a joke. He is thankful for the dark - as are the thousand or so other men crammed into this ridiculous little club. In front of him, his partner is moving to the beat of the song that pounds from the huge overhead speakers. Her hair has fallen over her face, hiding the small smile that curls at her mouth. They both know what is going to happen tonight, wonder why it has taken so long. They feel brave in this dark environment, hidden in the gloom and disguised by the crowd. The whole place is full of gyrating couples, dancing as though they hope to melt into each other's skin and they feel out of place, separated as they are by a sliver of air. Scully is pushed back by a girl in a vinyl catsuit and she almost touches him. Mulder sighs behind her, his breath whispering past her hair, moving it slightly in the stale room. It is so hot. Suddenly, Scully is moving again, finding the spot too crowded. She does not stop to see if he follows. She finds a quieter corner and moves into it. He is behind her in an instant, discovering that the lights rotate directly above them. The colours fall down onto the head in front of him and he sees her hair painted twenty different colours. He knows that he can reach out and touch her at any second, could have done every day for six years, but knows that she must be the one to make the first move. His mind was made up so long ago. Now he waits for her to reach the same, inevitable conclusion. His hands are drawn to her by some kind of magnetism, but he forces them back down to his sides. He wants so badly to touch the skin that he knows is such pure white beneath the rainbow lights that dapple it and he reaches out again, close enough to feel her heat. But he draws away again, knowing that he can't, knowing that the decision must be made by her. After all, he has been ready for six years now - waiting. Scully knows he is close. She can feel the heat radiating from him. She can feel the intensity of his eyes on her body, undressing her. She wants him so badly. The music is slowing as the night is drawing to an end. She doesn't want to check her watch, knowing that if she does, she will become tethered once again. She will rediscover Special Agent Dana Scully, who has to be up for work in a matter of hours, and who never acts recklessly like this. She feels his hand come closer and she closes her eyes in anticipation - ready for his searing touch. But he draws away again. She knows he is waiting for her. He has been waiting for so long. So tonight, she knows she will give it to him. Whatever he wants, he can have. Because she wants it too. The decision is made. Scully allows her hips to tilt and she steps into him, finally making blissful contact. She sighs with the relief of his strong muscular body as his hands find her swaying hips and grip them tightly. His hands are so big they almost reach completely around the width of her stomach. He twists her little chain belt with his thumbs and she continues to dance against him, urging him on. Mulder presses his chest against her back, his hands drawing her as far back as possible, his leg resting between hers as she dances. One hand moves from her hip to her shoulder and his palm covers the open expanse of flesh at her throat. He knows that if the lights from above were not so vividly blue, he would see a bright flush spread there. He can feel her colour rising beneath his touch. His hand takes the liberty of moving down her body to reclaim her tilting hips, brushing her breast lightly, yet intentionally as it goes, making her groan beneath the music. He feels it more than hears it. That sends a shiver through his body and lights a fire inside him. He wants her so badly. Scully lets her head loll against his chest, her hair falling to the side to expose more of her throat, tempting him. Mulder drops his lips to her skin, sucking gently, wanting to leave a mark, but not daring to mar the perfection of her porcelain complexion. His hand tips her chin upwards and he claims her mouth as the lights from above paint it red. He kisses her and their hips continue to grind together, his erection rubs against her, daring her to press herself backwards. She obliges, time and time again with her rotating hips grinding into him and the bass pounds in her ears in rhythm with her racing heart. Mulder suddenly takes her hand. His lips release hers with an audible pop and he pulls her across and around the writhing bodies littering the dancefloor. They are outside in the cool air before Scully knows what is happening and Mulder is pulling her along the street, one hand holding hers, the other coiling around her waist. Scully's heels click loudly as they rush along and she lets him lead her, trusting him implicitly, not caring where they are going, secretly hoping that he is leading her somewhere more private. Mulder is desperate to feel her pressed against him once more as he darts sideways suddenly, leading her into an alleyway. Scully gasps as he slams her against the wall, covering her body immediately with his own. She groans into his mouth as he kisses her, his tongue battling with hers. His thumb rubs along her jaw as he kisses her, before he moves down to her throat, freeing her mouth to moan loudly. Mulder trails a hurried line of wet, smacking kisses down her neck and across the skin of her chest, his hands claiming her breasts possessively. He unhooks her shirt a little more, to enable him to lift one breast from her bra. His mouth captures it quickly, sucking the nipple into his mouth and running his tongue over it, before replacing it in her shirt and switching to the other. Special Agent Fox Mulder is nothing but vigilant. Then he is standing before her once again. Their breath is coming in short pants and Mulder watches her chest heave up and down. She is willing him to do it; to press himself forward and into her; to claim her and make her truly his, here in this cold alleyway. They stare at each other, a look of amazement and excitement reflected between their faces: neither believing that the moment is real, that they are standing, groping one another in a dirty, anonymous alleyway in downtown Washington, about to fuck wildly against the roughness of the brick wall. The thought makes her heart race and she feels yet another pang of desire strike deep and low inside her belly. She wonders whether it is possible to come from a single touch. If it is, she thinks she may. Her reaches out one huge hand and places it upon the entire expanse of her bare chest, scalding her flesh. Scully is sure that he will leave a handprint. He holds her to the wall as his mouth descends once more, holding her lower body steady with his free hand. She tries to reach his belt that is digging into the now bare skin of her stomach, where his ministrations have worked the material up. She isn't quick enough for him and Mulder assists her in undoing his trousers. As soon as he is done, his hand slides seductively up her thigh and searches for the lace bands of her hold-ups. Finding them, he lifts his mouth from hers, wanting to see her face as he traces a pattern up onto her hot skin. Even in the icy air she sears his palm, and Mulder knows from experience that the best way to fight fire is with fire. Scully lets her head drop back and her eyes slip closed as his fingers find her underwear. Her panties drop down to the ground, forgotten for the meantime. He grins, pleased at her reaction as he slides one finger over her clit. Mulder slips one finger inside her, making her cry out as he adds another, then another, quickly burying himself, three knuckles deep in her soft body. Within moments she is groaning steadily, panting uncontrollably as her partner instinctively knows what she likes. Scully moans his name when her knees threaten to buckle as he brings her quickly to a jolting climax. "All of you. Now." She demands breathlessly, raising herself up on her toes to be high enough to accept him. Mulder nods, thankfully. He's been hard for hours now, agonisingly confined in his tight jeans. The first sight of those shoes and the short skirt fulfilled a thousand fantasies for Mulder, as well as relieving him of all higher brain function. And that was before they even entered the club: before the sun went down. He raises her up slightly higher, propping her up with his own body. He positions himself at her already slick opening, taking a deep breath before plunging in. With one swift, upward thrust he is almost all the way inside her and they both gasp at the sensation. Scully's hands grip at his shoulders and he pauses momentarily, allowing them both a second to catch their breath. Then he pulls back and drives upwards, buried to the hilt. This time she actually cries out and Mulder feels a fine sweat break out on his skin at the sound. Too much. He begins to set a steady pace, grinding into her at the end of each thrust. He pulls out with agonising leisure then slams into her hard enough to make her breath hitch and turn her whimpers into hiccups. But he isn't going fast enough for her. She wants it harder and she tells him as much, all inhibitions erased by the flood of hormones and the promise of yet another fantastic orgasm. "Just fuck me, Mulder, fuck me hard." The uncharacteristic demand spurs him on, giving him encouragement he didn't think he needed and Mulder feels his eyes close as his knees threaten to give out on him if she doesn't come soon. He has been holding back from orgasm, hoping to bring her there again, but the husky sound of her voice combined with the clench of her muscles is too much for him. He pounds upwards into her four more times and all is lost. He comes harder and faster than ever before, seeing bright purple and blue lights behind his eyes. Scully feels her own orgasm crash over her, the hot rush inside her pushing her over the edge and they shudder and moan and gasp together, thankful of the solid wall behind them, holding them up. After what seems like hours, Mulder forces himself to step away from her, withdrawing gently and zipping up his trousers. She begins to slide down the wall, not caring about her clothes. Mulder grins and pulls her up, straightening her skirt out over her nudity. In the darkness, he cannot see her black panties anywhere. Her legs are shaking so violently he doubts that she can stand on her own. He whispers into her ear, telling her they have to leave and she nods mutely against his chest. They begin to leave the alleyway, Mulder almost carrying his partner. She is so wasted from the sensory overload that she cannot process where they are going, only that she seems to be moving away from the damp, cold alley. Xxx The next thing she is aware of is being tucked beneath warm covers by strong hands. Mulder has brought her back to her apartment and is putting her to bed. She feels his weight beside her as Mulder lays down on top of the covers. His back is to her so that when she sits up she can't see his face. She knows that he must be exhausted, but cannot resist waking him. Although she has only been awake for a matter of seconds, she misses him and their new-found intimacy. He is dead asleep beside her - dropped off in seconds. Scully can't remember a time when sleep for Mulder did not entail a couch and hours of tossing and turning. She smiles as her own tranquillising effect. She plants a soft kiss on his shoulder through his t-shirt and lays down to sleep. Scully wakes to a warm presence beside her and the room is light. An arm is draped heavily over body and a leg is insinuated between hers. She is still wearing her clothes from the night before, although she realises that Mulder has added a pair of panties to the equation. She smiles at the sweet gesture. Even with his morning erection pushing between her buttocks, she sees him in a genteel light. Scully wonders if he would mind if she wakes him. She smiles and knows the answer. Naughtily, she begins to push her hips round in subtle circles, the motion itself enough to rouse her sleeping partner. He mumbles slightly and Scully increases her motion. She senses the moment when he comes round and thrusts back, biting her lower lip to stifle a giggle. "Scully?" Mulder mutters groggily. He isn't sure whether or not is he actually awake because this must be a dream. His hand moves to her hip, steadying her momentarily as he remembers the night before. Grinning, he snaps to attention and releases her twitching body. He catches on quickly and divests his clothes without breaking the contact between them. She allows a giggle to escape as he helps her peel off her own. Then he slides into her ready body from behind. They still lie on their sides as when they woke. Mulder turns her head with his hand so that he can kiss her as he gently pumps into her body. She smiles against his lips. "Morning sunshine." He whispers as she begins to tighten around him. Despite the increased urgency of her thrusting little bottom against him, Mulder keeps the pace languid, reflecting his sleepy state. He feels her muscles flutter around him and he reaches round to massage her to climax. He comes soon after he hears her contented little sigh. Finally able to turn around, Scully rolls over to face him. He welcomes her into his arms and draws her close. She snuggles into his chest with another contented sigh. Her skin is unimaginably soft and he wants to stay this way forever, curled up with the woman that he now knows snuffles when she sleeps deeply and purrs like a kitten after sex. He cherishes this new information and wishes he had learnt it sooner. "Breakfast, Mulder." Her hand is pointing towards the kitchen and Mulder knows that she wants him to fetch it for her. If she is his kitten, he is definitely her puppy dog. And he loves it. He obeys, shuffling naked from the room, giving her a view of his delectable ass as he goes. He turns to see her spread across the bed, draped in the sheet. He hurries, not wanting to be away from her for a second. He knows they should have been at work, typing up a report on the previous night's events, but he doubts that they will make it in before noon. If it isn't noon already. He grins to himself, not caring. His world, at least for the time being, is wrapped in morning sunlight and cream bed-linen.