From: RhiaRamsay@aol.com
Date: Wed, 19 Sep 2001 15:17:05 EDT
Subject: New: Night Ride Across Siberia (1 of 1)
Source: direct

Title: Night Ride Across Siberia
Author: Elizabeth L. Iacono
Rating: NC-17
Category: Adventure, Romance
Keywords: Mulder/Scully Romance
Spoilers: Existence (to be safe)
Summary: You never know who you'll encounter
         during the night....


Note: This piece was heavily inspired by music 
from Loreena McKennitt's album 'Book of Secrets,' 
and the back-story behind the pieces.  It might 
even add to the story if you listened to 
'Marco Polo' and 'Night Ride Across The Caucasus' 
while reading the first part, then 'La Serenissima' 
during the hotter stuff. 

Note two: I've taken some historical liberties 
in here, hopefully it won't detract from the story.

Note three: My immense thanks to the four betas:
Maeve, Jeri, Brie, and Garrull.  You guys are 
awesome.

Archive: I'll send to Gossamer and Spookys.  
Touchstone, KTF, IWTB, Legacy can all have it.
Anyone else, please ask me first.

Disclaimer: They're not mine.  Duh.

Feedback: Is treasured.  Tell me how (badly ;-) I 
did on my first smutfic!  RhiaRamsay@aol.com 


Night Ride Across Siberia
Elizabeth L. Iacono


The Siberian countryside looked bleak in the 
twilight.  The clack-clack sound of the rails 
drowned out all other noises, including the 
propaganda being played over the train's speaker 
system.  Sitting alone in her compartment, the woman 
pushed a stray wisp of reddish gold back into its 
pristine knot at the back of her head.  She adjusted 
her seat, crossing her legs delicately, making sure 
that her sling backs didn't damage her last surviving 
pair of stockings.

It was a very long trip for her, and she was far 
away from home.  She wished that she was back in 
the United States, home of the Brooklyn Dodgers 
and the man she loved.  Idly, she toyed with the 
gold and garnet ring on her left ring finger, the 
ring he had given her.  It was his promise to her, 
that as soon as they got home they'd make it legal.  
But they had been separated, and she felt like a 
part of her was ripped away. 

Now she was sitting on a train, headed for the last 
stop on the Trans-Siberian Railroad, Vladivostok, 
and for a boat home.  But he wasn't there. She sighed, 
a sigh full of longing and sadness, and turned her 
solemn sapphire gaze towards the speeding countryside.

The nearby corridor was filled with noise, mostly from
people walking by on their way to the dining car.  She
wasn't hungry though, and kept her eyes on the 
outside, not on the window inlaid in the door that 
opened an eye on the corridor.  If she had looked, she 
would have seen the intense eyes of the man who had 
stopped right outside her door.

The sudden noise of the door creaking open pulled 
her from the reverie, and she twisted around to 
see the man stepping into her compartment.  He 
quietly closed the door behind him, and pulled 
the shade down over its little window.  Her eyes 
widened, and her hand stole out to grab her purse,
wanting the safety of the small pistol that was 
stashed in its false bottom.

When the man turned around, her eyes widened even 
more, and she took in his appearance.  A tall, lanky 
man, and even under the finely tailored grey knit 
sweater and black gabardine pants she could tell 
there was muscle beneath there.  Dark, oak-brown 
hair was brushed away from his forehead, but stray 
pieces couldn't help but dangle into his crystal-like 
hazel eyes.  She felt his eyes raking over her and 
she glanced down at herself, hoping that the black,
knee-length dress and matching jacket she was wearing
didn't look too rumpled and travel-worn.  Then she 
wondered why she was worrying so much about her 
appearance.

"May I ask, Sir, what you are doing in here?" she 
asked in a voice as cool as an arctic morning.

The man smiled rakishly at her, his eyes glinting, 
and he raised his arm in order to display the leaded 
crystal tumbler clutched in his hand.  "I was just 
on my way back from dinner and was looking for a 
place to finish my drink."

Her auburn eyebrow arched questioningly.  "So 
why here?"

His smile grew wider, showing gleaming ivory 
teeth.  "Well, when one sees a woman as beautiful 
as yourself sitting all alone on a train, it is 
almost impossible not to be drawn to her."  He moved 
further into the compartment, sitting down on the 
plush bench seat opposite hers.

"May I ask the name of the man who has become so 
drawn to me?" she asked, not in a flirty manner 
so much as a rather serious one.

"Fox Mulder," he replied, placing the tumbler in 
the seat's drink holder.  "But please, call me 
Mulder. I can't imagine what my parents were 
thinking when they decided to name me that. 
And you?"

"Dana Scully," she answered, her eyes briefly 
flickering to the scenery outside.  She noticed 
that the night was growing darker, and she couldn't 
make out much of the surrounding area anymore.

"So, Miss Scully," Mulder continued on, pulling 
her gaze back to him, "what has brought you to 
the Soviet Union?"

"Please, call me Dana.  And I was visiting family 
in Moscow," Scully answered, using the reply she 
was trained to use if someone asked her that question.

Mulder's eyebrows crawled up to his hairline in 
surprise.  "Really? They're actually letting 
foreigners in these days?"

"I have my connections," she said, and couldn't 
help the slight grin that broke over her face. 
"And if I'm hearing your accent correctly you're a 
foreigner yourself."

Their conversation was suddenly interrupted, as the
compartment door was opened by a burly soldier 
dressed in the outfit habitually worn by the local 
army.  "Heresho dyen," <Good day>, he said in his 
native tongue.

"Prevyet," <Hello> Scully replied, while Mulder 
sunk back into the seats.  His face seemed impassive 
at the sight of the soldier, but somehow she could 
tell that Mulder didn't want him here.  Then again, 
neither did she.

The soldier gave a cursory glance around the 
compartment, his eyes not taking the time to really 
concentrate on anything.  Then, with a succinct head 
nod he closed the door behind him and continued 
down the passageway.

Neither Scully nor Mulder dared to move after 
that.  For a long while they sat on their benches, 
either staring at each other or out at the night.  
From time to time one or both would start picking 
at the lush fabric covering the seats, but aside 
from that, the only movement was their breathing.

Finally, after what seemed far too long, the train 
pulled into the second-to-last station on the route, 
Khabarovsk.  The station was lit up, and they both 
looked out over the platform and surrounding 
buildings.  To Scully's surprise, soldiers began 
pouring out of the train cars.  They arranged 
themselves on the platform, seeming to screen every 
person who was waiting to board.

Then, the next surprise of the night: when the train 
started moving once more, the soldiers remained 
behind in the station.  Scully let out the sigh of 
relief that had been waiting to escape since
she'd seen the soldiers leaving.  Her gaze moved back 
to Mulder, who was now standing in the middle of the
compartment.  A quick stride later and he was close 
in front of her.  Her neck stretched as she looked 
up questioningly at him, a problem that was remedied 
by him sitting down next to her.

Scully was poised to ask him a question when his
mouth swooped down on hers.  She couldn't help but kiss
him back; it had been so long since she was last 
kissed.  Much sooner than her mouth and Mulder would 
have liked, however, she pulled away from the kiss, 
fixed Mulder with a stern look, and spoke. 

"What the hell were you thinking, using your real 
name like that?"

Mulder shamelessly grinned again and wrapped an 
arm around her shoulders.  "Those soldiers believe 
the man they're looking for is called Arthur 
Adamson.  They also believed that he was getting 
on at Khabarovsk, not that he had been riding 
since Irkutsk under the name Fox Mulder."

Scully shook her head and let her forehead rest 
against his sweater-covered shoulder, her eyes 
slipping shut.  "If you've been on since then, 
why didn't you come find me? I had no idea you 
were going to be on this train."

His voice dropped to a soft murmur and he looked 
down at the top of her head.  "I didn't want to 
put you in any unnecessary danger."

The head came up off the shoulder and their eyes 
clashed.  "I can protect myself. I don't need you--"

Mulder cut her off with a hand sliding along the 
soft skin of her face.  "I know.  I know, but can 
you blame me for wanting to protect my fiancee?"

"No," she sighed, burying her head in his neck. 
"I'd have done the same for you."

"Yeah. You get like a bulldog when anyone tries 
to pick on me," he said impishly.  Scully was so 
glad to see him that she dismissed the comment 
with a slight giggle that was absorbed into his 
neck.  "Anyway, by morning we'll be in Vladivostok, 
and on our way back to the U.S. and home."

"Home sounds good right about now."  Scully took 
a light sniff against Mulder's neck.  Even in a 
foreign country, on a clandestine and dangerous 
mission, he still managed to wear that cologne 
she loved.  "God, you smell good," she murmured.  
A stealthy tongue stole out and licked at the
underside of his stubbly jaw.  "You taste good too."

Mulder groaned softly and moved away from her 
questing tongue.  "Don't start anything you can't 
finish, Scully," he cautioned.

Her face was solemn but her eyes twinkled as she 
asked, "Is the door locked?" and smiled at the 
suddenly very aroused look that took over his 
face.  Without another word, Mulder unfolded himself 
from the seat and secured the lock, taking the 
time to check whether the window blinds were pulled
down all the way.  He returned to Scully, who had 
shifted to sit sideways on the seat, her shoes now 
pushed into a corner.

Scully expected him to sit in front of her, but 
instead he settled in behind her.  She wasn't able 
to see him now, but she could feel his warm breath 
ruffling the wispy hairs at the back of her neck, 
and her breathing grew shallow with excitement. 
The warmth grew more intense as his hands stole 
up to the collar of her coat and gently began 
pulling it off.  The fabric slid down her arms, 
into a pile in Mulder's hands and he carefully
laid it on the floor.

Next, he reached for the zipper of her dress.  The 
movement of the zipper was the only noise in the 
small compartment as it glided down, exposing the 
smooth, cream-colored skin of her back.  Scully 
pulled at the sleeves, causing the dress to pool 
around her waist.  Mulder leaned in and pressed a 
gentle kiss to the back of her neck, then reached
for the pins that held her hair in its knot.  With 
a few deft plucks her hair cascaded near her 
shoulders, loose and wavy from being pinned up 
so long.

Scully stood up and let the dress fall to the floor,
kicking it away with her heels in an uncharacteristically
spontaneous gesture.  She stood in front of Mulder, 
who looked up at her with a gleam in his eyes that 
was akin to worship.  Mulder reached for her to remove 
her remaining garments--panties and bra, stockings 
and garters-but Scully stopped him.  She reached for 
his sweater, and in a swift move pulled it over his 
head, making his hair even more disorganized than 
usual.  The messy hair and the bare chest...it made 
him look wild...and sexy...and she loved all of him.

She clasped his hands in hers and pulled him to his 
feet.  Even while Mulder physically towered over 
her, she felt that they were always on equal 
footing.  Scully's deft hands reached for his belt 
and quickly undid it, tossing it somewhere behind 
her.  The next to go were the pants and boxers, and 
as she maneuvered those down his legs Mulder helped 
by getting his shoes off as fast as he could.  And
finally, there was nothing left on him except for the
little necklace of hers she had given him before 
he left: the tiny little heirloom cross that stood 
guard over him when she couldn't.  The necklace stayed, 
and she brushed a soft kiss over it.

Feeling that he was satisfactorily unclothed, Scully 
didn't object this time to letting Mulder remove the 
rest of her clothes.  Kneeling, he unhooked the 
garters, and rolled the delicate stockings carefully 
down her legs, one at a time.  The garter belt was 
slid down, along with her panties.  Before 
straightening back up, Mulder pressed a reverent
kiss to her stomach, and her hands ran through 
his hair.  Lastly, he unhooked her bra.

There was a slight chill in the air, and Scully 
moved into Mulder's waiting arms.  He wrapped her in 
a massive hug, their bodies closely pressed together.  
Warm skin and solid muscles embraced her and warmed 
them both up nicely, and Mulder ducked his head down 
to kiss her once more.  His tongue swept into her 
mouth, which was moving under his in ways that she 
couldn't forget no matter how long they were
separated.

As they kept kissing, Scully's hands wandered a 
path down his bare chest.  They stroked the skin 
dusted with fine hairs, the hardened planes of muscle, 
flesh that was fast on its way to becoming overheated 
and sweat-slicked.  His erection was insistent, 
pressed against her stomach.

Mulder tore his mouth from hers, and began a trail of
kisses down the side of her face.  His lips caressed her
cheekbone, moving towards her ear.  The earlobe got 
a flick of the tongue, and he continued downwards.  
When he finally reached that one little spot on her 
neck, Scully's moan broke the silence of the 
compartment, and her knees buckled.

With a soft chuckle, Mulder tightened his arms around 
her to keep her from hitting the floor.  "Got to be 
quiet, Scully," he whispered in her ear.  "There could 
be people all around us, you don't want to give them 
any ideas about what's happening here."  Scully 
languidly blinked and focused on him.

"If I make any loud noises I'll blame you for it," she
drawled.  Feeling slightly unsteady, she wobbled over 
to the bench seat, and reclined on it.  A loving look 
and a crooked finger had Mulder quickly following, 
settling down between her legs.  Stretching upwards, 
he rested his elbows on either side of her head, 
tangling his fingers in her already mussed hair. 
Scully grabbed his own head, and pulled his mouth 
back to hers.  Their tongues battled, pushing and 
probing, sliding wetly along each other.

One of Mulder's hands slid away from her hair, and 
voyaged down her body.  It stopped to flutter along 
the pulse in her neck, then down over her shoulder 
to rub at her breast, teasing the nipple playfully.  
Finally, the hand pushed underneath her, where it 
set up a soft and arousing movement at the small of 
her back.  His mouth then began to follow the same 
path his hand had taken, settling in at her
nipple and lapping at it with his tongue.

Scully arched her back, trying to push as much of 
her skin against Mulder's as possible.  She scraped 
her nails over his upper back, and thrilled in the 
resultant shudder.  When the hand that wasn't stroking 
the small of her back began to pinch her other 
nipple, she snapped.  One of her hands weaved into 
Mulder's hair, and she pulled his head up to look 
him in the eyes.  His lower lip was glistening with
saliva and his eyes were dark as they bored into hers.

"No more playing," she panted.  If it was possible, 
or maybe she was just delusional with arousal, she 
could have sworn his eyes grew darker.  As he leaned 
upward and licked at a bead of sweat clinging to 
her upper lip, his hands moved lower, to feel between 
her folds.  He withdrew them sticky and soaked, and 
licked the taste of her from his fingers.  When she 
was just about ready to scream with frustration, he 
finally slid himself deep inside her.

They remained still, seeming to take the time to 
grasp that they were finally here, after all those 
long months of being separated.  Scully brushed her 
nose alongside Mulder's, allowing that soft touch 
to say more than many words could.  Mulder kissed 
her back softly in response, and he began to move.  
He went slowly, pulling back and thrusting inside 
her with small movements.  Scully's eyes fluttered 
shut and her head fell back; the feelings he was
evoking in her were incredible.

She brought her legs up to wrap around his waist, 
pushing him even further inside her.  With a grin, 
she tensed her inner muscles, and delighted at the 
look on his face.  Scully couldn't resist the urge 
to let out a little giggle at it.  However, as 
totally entranced in her body that he was, Mulder 
heard the giggle, and gave her a look, which
just earned an innocent smile.  So, in return, he 
wriggled a hand in between them, right near the 
point where he entered her.  Then, he began 
to rub small circles around her clitoris, and her 
response was exactly what he was aiming for.

Scully gasped sharply and thrust up against him in an
instinctual way.  He knew exactly what to do to her 
to make her crazy with passion.  Her hands moved 
around to his back again and scraped against his 
flesh as Mulder continued thrusting into her.  A far 
corner of her mind wondered if they were going to 
combust.  She could practically see flames coming 
from her skin.

From outside the compartment came a burst of raucous
laughter, no doubt some drunken passengers who had 
just been kicked out of the closing dining car.  
Still, Scully held her moans in until the only thing 
she could hear was the methodical noise of the rails 
below them.  Inevitably, her climax grew closer, and 
she muffled her noises in Mulder's straining neck.  
Somehow, he could sense how close she was, and he 
sped up his thrusts, even though he was close to 
the edge himself.

When the shudders of her climax began to sweep over 
her, her grasp on Mulder tightened and her moans 
were absorbed into his skin.  From the tenseness of 
his body and the way he felt inside her, Scully knew 
that he was right there with her....

They awoke in the morning to find they were pulling 
into the station at Vladivostok.  As Scully stepped 
out into the cold morning air, Mulder reached out 
a hand to help her off the train.  And the look in 
his eyes and the smile on his face was one of hope.

        *         *        *

"Scully?"

The voice invaded her peaceful sleep, so in an 
attempt to ignore it she burrowed deeper into the 
couch.  But the voice wouldn't leave her alone. Neither 
would the hand that was shaking her shoulder.

"Come on, Scully."

Figuring the best way to deal with the voice would 
be to face it head on, she turned over and pried 
her eyes open.  Looking down at her was Mulder, 
complete with an armful of a sleepy, almost 
three-year-old boy who was sick with a bad cold and 
fever.  "Mmm, did I fall asleep?" she asked.

"For about three hours," Mulder said with a grin.

Scully sat bolt upright on the couch.  "Why didn't you--"

"You needed the sleep," Mulder cut her off.  "Will and 
I did fine.  We watched TV in the bedroom."  Scully 
looked up at the boy who was resting his head against 
Mulder's shoulder, his eyes half-closed and one hand 
grasping the collar of Mulder's t-shirt.  "Are you 
sure you're feeling okay?" Mulder asked her.  "You're 
looking a little flushed."

"I had a good dream," she said with a grin, and Mulder
nodded wisely.

"Will you tell me about it?"

Scully got up off the couch and pressed her lips 
against William's forehead.  He still felt warm, 
but not as bad as he had earlier in the day.  "Once 
he's in bed.  Is it just me or does he feel cooler 
than before?"

Mulder nodded.  "I took his temperature right before 
you woke up.  It's definitely gone down."

"Good," she sighed.  William's eyes opened a little 
more and focused on Scully.  "Hey," she smiled at 
him.  "How are you feeling?"

"Sleepy," William said, and he leaned into Mulder even
more.

Scully and Mulder shared a knowing look.  "Well, then I
think it's time for you to go to bed," Scully said 
sagely.

"Wanna sleep with you," William insisted, tightening 
his grip on Mulder.

Another shared glance.  The re-enactment of her dream 
Would have to wait until later.  But then again, reality was
pretty damn good, too.

 *                             *                                 *

The End!  Hope you enjoyed this little tale! :-)