From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org Date: Sat, 19 Jul 2008 14:11:43 -0500 (CDT) Subject: The Note by ceediane Source: direct Reply To: ceediane@gmail.com Title: The Note Author: ceediane E-mail: ceediane@gmail.com Summary: No characterization, no scenery, just smut. Rating: NC-17 Distribution: No Feedback: OK Notes: Shameless plot device theft from Ian McEwan A guard posted at the front of the Hoover Building held the door open for Mulder. "Power is out. Something with the grid, " he said in response to Mulder's quizzical look. Mulder brushed past and walked through the cool, darkened halls, and took the stairs down to the basement. Suddenly the day had new and interesting possibilities in it. Scully wasn't in yet. She had an autopsy and wouldn't be in for hours. He sat down in his chair, and leaned back as he swivelled around. He thought of his partner. He'd been doing that a lot lately. The computer was down. No e-mail. Reaching down to a bottom desk drawer he pulled out a box of stationery and slipped a few sheets from the box. "Dear Scully, Meet me in the park at noon. I'll bring lunch. Mulder" He neatly creased the note in half and slipped it into an envelope with her name on it, placing it next to the computer on his desk. He leaned back again, hands clasped behind his head. Scully. He craved her warmth. Missed her in his space. She'd been working several other cases lately, handling autopsies, and a slow, steady ache had been building inside of him. Every time he saw her now-- glimpses from a distance, her brief appearances at their office, meeting him in the parking garage to go chase down a lead--it was like he couldn't breathe for a moment. He was dumbstruck and pierced through by her beauty. Inevitability lay heavy upon him. He knew. He could feel it. He wanted it. He put his feet down on the floor and sat straight up, grasped another paper from his box and began to write. "Dear Scully, You are so beautiful. I think of you constantly. I want to bury my face in your cunt." Had he written that? Small sweat beads broke out on his brow and he smiled. "I want to fuck you senseless. I want to drive my cock deep into your hot, wet pussy and make you come over and over again until you lose consciousness." He could feel himself getting harder under the desk. One more line: "I love you. I love everything about you. I miss you. Love, Mulder." He chuckled slightly under his breath. A game he used to play in college. He absently folded the note in half, and ran his fingertips around the edges of it. Some people wrote angry letters and then tore them up before sending them. He had liked to write erotic letters--a way of letting off pressure. Never sent them. Just to get a girl out of his head. "It's back to the stone ages around here." Skinner's voice startled him. He panicked and shoved the note next to his computer, turning around to face the man. "I've gotta drag my ass all the way down here just to tell you there's a debrief scheduled in five minutes. Damn phones aren't working with this power outage." He paused. "What are you looking so guilty about Mulder. You look like the cat that ate the canary. Something I should know about? " Mulder's eyes were wide and rounded, his face lifted toward Skinner's. "No. No sir." He sat back, exhaling. Skinner didn't believe him, but didn't really want to know what Mulder was doing or how and in what novel way he might be violating bureau policy again. "Then let's go. Get your ass upstairs." "How long is this supposed to take? I have a couple of appointments scheduled this morning." "30 minutes? Just a guess, but it's a debrief--should be a quick one." Just then his cell phone rang. He flipped it open and motioned for Skinner to go on ahead. "Mulder." Skinner's lips compressed and he shouted over the tinny voice coming through the phone. "Now Mulder!" DIstractedly, Mulder stood up and followed him out of the office while continuing his conversation. "What color were the lights exactly?" _______________________________ The sound of Scully's heels echoed painfully in her head as she walked at a fast clip down the hallway to the office. She'd been doing autopsies all morning, she was hungry, and she had a headache. She had come to the Hoover building to look up some information on a case, only to find that the power was out, making this an unnecessary and wasted trip. Deciding to check in with Mulder anyway, she now found herself in their dimly lit office, and no Mulder. As she glanced around, her eye caught the stationery box next to Mulder's computer and she walked over to it. She saw the note addressed to her and hesitantly picked it up. It hadn't been near her things, or placed conspicuously where she would be sure to find it. The envelope wasn't sealed and so she slipped the paper out. It was an invitation to lunch. She looked at the clock. It was 11:23. If she hurried, she could make it to the deli for sandwiches and meet Mulder, but had he meant for her to find this? She thought it best to call him and confirm. She dialed his cell phone and got voicemail. "Mulder, it's Scully. I got your note. Call me back." She stood for a moment, considering. And then she picked up one of his pencils, grabbed a slip of paper from his box, and wrote back. "Mulder, got your note. See you at noon," Scully. She folded it in half and as she looked for a place to leave it, she spotted the other piece of paper, half peeking out from under his keyboard. Her curiousity compelled her, and she teased it out from its hiding place. She opened the note. As her eyes skimmed over the words written out in Mulder's jumpy penmanship, her headache was replaced by a tingling sensation that started in her scalp and ran through to her toes, lighting fires and loosing springs as it went. Her stomach tightened and flipped as the words "cunt" and "pussy" emblazoned their images into her brain. The hard and sibilant consonants resonated and reverberated within her consciousness. She couldn't breathe, she was sweating profusely, and she was completely turned on. Embarrassed and secretly pleased, she looked up and around as though someone might be watching her. She stepped back, holding the note, her mind working furiously to decide a course of action. Should she shove it back under the keyboard and pretend she hadn't seen it? Should she write something in response? What should she say if she called him? Just then, Mulder and Skinner came bursting throught the door. "If you don't find those reports, Mulder, we're screwed." Mulder took one look at Scully, where she stood next to his computer, the note held lightly in her hand, blue eyes lustful and dark, skin flushed and slightly damp, and he knew instantly. He knew even though he had forgotten it and not thought of it since the morning. Their eyes met and time slowed. As nameless fear and paranoia and something warm and ticklish bubbled in his stomach, Mulder stammered a hasty reply to Skinner. He rifled through some papers, and shoved something into his hands, pushing him towards the door. Mulder and Scully remained locked in a gaze, and both willed Skinner to evaporate or transmogrify or beam himself into another galaxy. And then he was gone. "It was the wrong note, Scully. I never meant for you to see that, " he explained moving towards her infintessimally. "I know." He moved closer and she turned towards him. "I don't know what to say," he continued. Her face and her eyes were an invitation. "Come here," she whispered, and the note slipped from her fingers as she placed her hands around the back of his neck and drew his mouth towards hers. Their lips touched and opened, tongues meeting and sliding into one another. She ran her fingers in his hair and up to the base of his scull and pulled him down, kissing him hard and pressing the full length of her body into his. His hands came around and grabbed her ass pulling her into his hips where she could feel the hard length of his cock pressing against her. Somewhere it registered that he was hard for her, that he wanted her, that he had written down that he wanted to fuck her. Oh god. Her breasts were crushed against him, and she was panting into his mouth, and they were kissing again, sucking and probing and tasting. Both of her hands were in his hair, fingertips pressing, nails grazing his scalp. And then they were at his belt, fumbling with the buckle. And Mulder's lips were on her neck, and she was panting his name and something that sounded like "fuck me." His pants were around his ankles and his cock was in her hands, and he reached for the hem of her skirt, pulling it up over her hips. He slid her panties down and she stepped out of them, keeping him close, placing kisses on his damp forehead. He flipped her around so that her back was to the door, and he pressed into her, kissing her, and reaching down to lock the door. Somewhere in his brain, the thought of the consortium and cameras flitted in and out, but he did not slow or falter or stop. As Mulder slid his fingers into Scully's wet center, her eyes flipped open, and they stared at each other while he moved in and out. She slid her arms around his neck and kissed the underside of his jaw, and whispered things into his skin like I love you and fuck me, and oh god, fuck me. He pressed her into the door with his body as she wrapped a leg around his hip. She reached for him and he slid into her, feeling her warm hotness up the length of his shaft. Scully wrapped both legs around him and didn't care as they slid to the floor, and he drove into her until she felt him shudder as he came. His breathing was heavy as he balanced on his elbows, cradling her head in his hands. Their bodies were pressed to each other, suit jackets and shirts still on. He looked into her eyes and kissed her. "I love you Scully." "I know." _______________________________________ Author's note: I know Scully didn't have an orgasm, but I still think she had a good time.