From: mike Mcgrath Date: Sun, 06 Sep 1998 19:52:45 -0400 Subject: New Story (I have never posted-be gentle) Title: Really Love Your Peaches (1/1) Author: Pandora Email: sherrill@ican.net Rating: PG Category: S, UST, H Spoilers: none Keywords: Mulder/Scully UST Summary: Scully indulges in a summer pleasure. Disclaimer: Mine? I wish. So, whatever, I AM returning them. Thankx: to mary greten for editing, and disposing of all of my 'ands' Feedback: I implore you, anything, anything at all. Really love your peaches... by Pandora "I have been waiting for this for an entire year. I can wait no longer. I know it's not professional. I know I am supposed to be finishing that finance report. I know Mulder will be walking in here any moment. I know I shouldn't enjoy it so much..." Dana Scully chewed pensively on her bottom lip, fully contemplating the temptation. Her eyes were locked on the brown paper bag sitting in front of her on the desk. It sat right on top of the paperwork she was supposed to be doing. A mere sixteen inches separated her from euphoria. Scully sighed heavily and leaned back in the chair. "This chair sucks," she decided. It was wood, solid oak, very hard and uncomfortable. "Who the hell still uses oak chairs in offices? They don't exactly offer good lumbar support." Her hands were vehemently gripping the chair's arms, as she ruminated on her discomfort. She realized with a start that her knuckles were turning white. She eased her grip a bit, but was unwilling to relent of her discontent. "Mulder's chair isn't wooden. If I recall correctly it is very plush. And I like plush. I like it a lot." Slowly, purposefully she cocked her head to the side and glanced at his 'area'. His *desk*, which was covered in papers, magazine articles and freaking sunflower seeds, and his *chair* - yes, his chair, his plush, comfortable, and blatantly empty chair. A smile twitched at the corners of her mouth, threatening to take over her entire being. As she bandied the temptations of that brown paper bag, and Mulder's most inviting chair about in her head a most radiant grin burst forth. Chuckling deep within her throat, she realized how utterly conducive the environment was to providing her with pleasure. "Who am I to deny something that was meant to be?" she thought saucily jumping to her feet and grabbing the bag. Mulder strode down the basement hallway extremely pleased to be doing so. He was, in fact, jubilant to be going to his office in the basement. Today it was rumored to reach over ninety in the capital, and the air conditioning at the J. Edgar Hoover building was not operative. He felt the stuffiness of the summer air the moment he walked through the front entrance. For probably the first time in their lives all of those pompous idiots upstairs were probably wishing they were going to their offices in the basement. It was only an unfortunate detail that his cool basement office was devoid of any windows. "Wonder who will be the first out the window on the sixth floor." he mused with an uncharacteristic spring in his step. "Heat rises boys, and you can't get any lower than this." He smiled to himself, quite pleased with his witty pun, even if he was his only audience. As he approached the office, he noted that the door was ajar and the light was on which meant that Scully was already there. His hands full with his briefcase and a dozen magazines, he nudged the door open with his foot and began speaking, "Scully, today we gloat-". As his eyes surveyed the scene his jaw and the armful of magazines he had been carrying fell to the floor. Special Agent Dana Katherine Scully, MD (no less) was sitting in his *chair*, with her feet on his *desk* eating a peach. Actually, she was suckling it. A look of pure ecstasy etched her face. Her stocking clad legs were demurely crossed at the ankle, her shoes matched her plum colored skirt and jacket. Her blazing red hair was harnessed at the back of her neck, and her reading glasses were perched on the top of her head. Her eyes were closed. It was a sight to behold and one that Mulder realized quickly was probably the most sexually stimulating thing he had ever seen, bar even his entire video collection. "Shit" Mulder thought, desperately trying to scrape his jaw off of the floor, and compose himself before she saw him. More than anything he wanted to be that peach. His traitorous body seemed intent on displaying his arousal to the world--well, to Scully anyhow -same thing. With obvious reluctance she pulled the overripe fruit from her lips which were bathed in its juice. She let escape a small groan and opened her eyes. As Mulder caught her gaze he felt the wind knocked out of him. If ever there were such a thing as bedroom eyes, what he saw in hers was it. Desire dripped from her irises like honey. As suddenly as he saw the passion , it was gone, to be replaced by daggers. He took an unconscious step back. Her stare burned holes right through him. Slowly, hyperaware of her movements, she brought her left hand to her mouth. her right held the source of all her earthly happiness at the moment. With her index finger she wiped away the juice that had run down her chin. She then brought her finger back upwards to her bottom lip, and laid the tip to rest there. Her tongue snaked out and greedily lapped up the nectar. She wrapped it around her finger methodically, one side and then the next, the top and the bottom, sure to get every last drop. She then returned her hand to the arm of the chair. Mulder watched, intent on not falling to his knees in complete servitude or soiling his boxers both of which were a distinct possibility. The thick silence was suddenly broken, jolting his mind out of his pants. "Get out Mulder. My peach and I want to be alone." She teased. He thought he saw her mouth turn into a pout. "Omigod, Dana Scully pouting..." Never had she seemed so appealing to him as right then. "This is your partner!" his mind yelled, over and over at him. Finally, his conscience won out. He frowned at her then he removed his face from her prying eyes. "Damn her, sitting in my *chair*, feet on my *desk* nearly making love to that damned piece of fruit." He bent down to retrieve his lost magazines, which for some reason he couldn't remember why the hell he had brought them. "Scully feet off of my desk, and get the hell out of my chair." he said sternly. He heard her curse him under her breath as her heals his the floor loudly. "What?" he barked, looking up at her accusingly. She shook her head, and stood up. She ran a smoothing hand down the front of her skirt, regaining her composure. "Nothing. And why are you in such a bad mood this morning...VCR not working?" She retreated from behind the desk and looked at her chair with disdain. Hell, it wasn't even really her chair. It was just an extra chair. Just as she seemed to be extra. Suddenly that chair embodied everything that irritated her about him, and she wanted to kick him--it--the chair of course, not really him. Maybe. He threw the magazines on his desk, and dropped his briefcase on top of them. "I was in a great mood until I came in here to find my partner in my *chair* with her feet on my *desk*-" "Oh, get over it Mulder." she grunted, submitting to her fate and falling into the chair she so loved to hate. She suspired as she stretched out against the unforgiving oak, cringing as it dug into her spine. "The FBI is getting my chiropractic bill for this." He gritted his teeth to stop from screaming...just screaming until he was hoarse. "May I continue?" She shrugged giving him only a glance. "Not only invading my personal space, but practically making love to that fucking peach!" He realized how his words betrayed him, after he had spoke, but the damage was done. And knowing her she was going to call him on it. She took another succulent bite of her ambrosia, making sure to moan loudly as she did. When she pulled the peach away from her mouth she looked at him with a sickening sweet smile, and said: "Jealous Mulder?" "Damn her." He dropped into his still warm chair, and opened his arms out in front of him, leaning towards her. "Oh yeah Scully, I'm so jealous of the fact that you have to get your erotic kicks from a piece of fruit. God knows what I would have walked into had I been five minutes later. You know, you really should lock the door when you re...you know." He let his arms fall into his lap, as he continued to lean forward towards her. She glared at him, daring him to finish his sentence. "What Mulder?" "Pleasuring yourself," he chirped satisfactorily. Sometimes it seemed so easy to avery her attention. Suddenly he wasn't worried about whether she actually picked up on his arousal. Instead, he was more amused by goading her. "What an ass", she thought. "Why must everything be about sex?" The corners of her mouth curled up in disgust. "Jesus, Mulder there are other pleasures than those sexual. If you thought with your mind, instead of your... you know." She cleared her throat, very pleased with herself for throwing back his own words. "What Scully?" he prodded, easing back in his chair, and straightening his tie. His tie. It was black, and had red ants on it. Scully blinked her attention away from the offensive piece of clothing. She wasn't about to take his bait. She knew how much he liked to annoy her. "Body," she said coarsely. "You would see that." "See what?" "See that everything isn't always about sex!" She exclaimed, already exasperated with him. She looked at her watch. "Only eight and a half more hours", she regarded glumly. He grimaced and opened his briefcase. "Oh, don't even tell me that eating those things isn't some sort of perverse sensual delight for you. You forget, I watched you eat peaches all last summer. I know." he pronounced, wildly flipping papers about as he talked. She brought the peach up to eye level and studied it. It was nearly gone. One more bite. There was only a bit of flesh left, right on the top, she always ate the top last. "Of course it's sensual Mulder.", she spat. "Idiot", she mused, "a lot of good Oxford did him." "It stimulated the senses," she continued, "hence the word. And trust me, after seeing what you view for pleasure I am sure nothing I could ever think or do could be considered perverse by your standards." He whipped his head around to look at her fiercely. Gotcha. "At least I don't get off on fruit." He was quickly growing frustrated with the conversation and his seeming lack of organization with the items that covered his desk. There were papers everywhere, and he couldn't even remember what the hell he was supposed to be doing with them. "Damn her." he cursed silently. "Just shut up Mulder, I want to finish my peach in peace. You know it's only for a few weeks of the year you get Georgia peaches this good. Really, you should try one." "Yeah right, like he's ever getting one of my peaches," she decided greedily. And she took that last, final bite. Her teeth grazed the hard shell of the pit as she desperately tried to extract every last bit of it. She closed her eyes and rolled it over her tongue, languishing every taste, and texture it had to offer. Remorsefully, she finally swallowed the last of it letting her eyes drift open as she did. "What the hell were you talking about when you walked in anyway? Why did you say we should we be gloating?", she asked as she nipped at the pit, refusing to allow her intimacy with the peach to end. He mumbled something incoherent and turned his attention back to the vortex formerly known as his desk. Scully raised her right eyebrow at Mulder's obivious discomfort and surrender. Behold the power of the peach. Although it was a means for irritating her partner, it certainly was not helping her get that finance report finished. She turned back towards her area.