Date sent: Mon, 27 Oct 1997 10:25:00 -0400 From: Amy McMasters TITLE: Saturdays AUTHOR: Crash RATING: NC-17 for sex CLASS: MSR SPOILERS: None KEYWORDS: SUMMARY: Mulder and Scully spend a lazy Saturday together. Told from Scully's point of view. Pure MSR fluff. Anti-shippers this is your only warning: BAIL NOW. DISCLAIMER: Don't own 'em, never will. They belong to the Gods of 10-13, no infringement of any shape or form is intended. AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is my first submission, so go easy on me. I've been visiting Gossamer for quite sometime now and I'm extremely impressed with everything I've read here. I thought it was about time I gave it a try, English majors can never resist the urge to write, it's like breathing. All constructive criticism may be sent to mamymac@juno.com, flames will be used to line my bird cage. SATURDAYS By Crash Watching a couple together in their home life speaks volumes about them and their relationships. People newly in a relationship constantly talk to one another and touch one another. If that relationship is a strong one, comfortable silences work their way into the routine. When a couple is truly comfortable together they can pass the time talking about anything or talking about nothing at all. On cold rainy days, I like to read and curl up on my sofa. I toss an afghan over my feet and while away a boring Saturday afternoon. It reminds me of when I was a child, and Ahab would be home. He and Mom would sit around reading and we would play quietly or read as well. I cherished those times, I always felt warm and safe on those days. I always felt secure in the comfortable relationship my parents had and as I've grown older, I know that's what I want for myself. Today, there is a knock at my door disturbing my solitude. I go to the door, I know who it is. When I open the door, he's standing there with his lopsided grin. I'm curious, but I know him so well I can figure out why he's here on Saturday. Fox Mulder is a lonely man. Erotic videos can only get you so far in the companionship game. Today he's particularly lonely, but he won't tell me that. He's made some joke about watching the game with his best friend even though he knows sports are not something I'm remotely interested in. But this doesn't bother me. I fix him some popcorn, he takes up a corner of my couch and turns on my television. He watches the game, I resume my reading, both of us are perfectly content. My mother almost always made her way to the kitchen about 5 o'clock on those lazy Saturdays. Missy and I would usually join her to help set the table and cut up vegetables. The boys played checkers and Ahab would keep reading. By 6 dinner would be ready and we'd all gather around the table and talk about meaningless family things, but again I remember those days as some of the most wonderful of my life. I notice through my window the sun is setting and can hear from the television that the game is winding down. As if led by some unknown force, I go to the kitchen. I begin rummaging in the refrigerator for something to cook , finding enough ingredients for stir-fry chicken for two. As I'm setting things out to begin cooking he appears behind me grinning widely. Mulder likes it when I cook for him. I toss him some carrots and onions and tell him to start chopping unless he wants to sing for his supper. This elicits a terribly off key rendition of "Love Me Tender" from him. I inform him I'll have to shoot him again if he doesn't stop singing. He stares at me blankly and we're both laughing. I like spending Saturdays with Mulder. I feel the ease of my childhood with him. As we're eating, Mulder is telling me about this religion called the Preslyterians. They worship Elvis in a truly religious sense. I jokingly ask him what the hymns in a Preslyterian church would be like. He tells me "Hound Dog" sung to the tune of "Aleluia" and I nearly choke on my wine laughing. He gets overly concerned and comes to me, patting me lightly on the back, asking me if I'm all right. I'm fine. He helps me with the dishes. I notice we're brushing hips a lot more than usual tonight. I smile inwardly even though I don't know why. Maybe the wine has made me warm and giddy, or maybe Mulder has. Our hands touch under the soapy dishwater and we both look at each other startled. I giggle and he smiles and bumps me with his hips. I'm knocked a little off balance so I flick soap at him in retaliation. He picks up a glass full of sudsy water threatening to throw it at me and I grab his hand. He pulls me to him and we stare into each other's eyes. The warm feeling grows. I reluctantly pull away from him. Dishes done we wander into the living room and sit on the couch. This time he doesn't sit in his corner. He sits down next to me. I shoot him a glance, a question. He just smiles and puts one arm securely around my neck and pulls me in close. I lie my head on his shoulder. He flips on the television. We've been watching television for awhile when I notice it's 9 o'clock. 9 o'clock was bedtime in my childhood. Mom would follow us upstairs and tuck us all into bed. Then she'd make her way back down to Ahab in the living room. We always figured they watched television together or read until they got tired enough to go to bed. I smile at the thought. Mulder sees me smiling and offers me a penny for my thoughts. I look up at him not knowing how to put into words what I'm thinking and feeling. I open my mouth to speak and his mouth covers mine in a deep kiss. The kiss isn't rough, it's warm and sweet and tastes like the Pinot Grigio we drank at dinner. I'm drowning in him now. Should we? Shouldn't we? Comfort washes over me in waves, because kissing Mulder feels right, feels warm and safe. Check that, it feels really hot. We're fumbling with buttons now while kissing and caressing. Oh God. I've seen Mulder's bare chest before, but not under these circumstances. I am in awe of this man. I lay my palms flat on his chest and back away so I can look at him, to drink him with my eyes. He leans in questioning why I've stopped. I smile and put my finger to his lips. I shrug out of my blouse and push his shirt off of his shoulders. I stand and take his hand. I lead him down the hall to my bedroom. We're now standing in front of my bed and I'm suddenly shy and cross my arms over my chest. He moves in closer and shakes his head. He grabs my wrists and snakes my arms around his waist. He kisses my eyelids, my cheeks my lips. I feel my bra fall come unclasped. He pushes it aside and now he's nuzzling my breasts, licking and sucking. I throw my head back and murmur his name. Mulder. I lift my head back up and work the button on his jeans loose and slide his zipper down. I feel his hands at my hips doing the same. Now we stand before each other, both naked. Here we aren't FBI agents, we aren't faced with the horrors of the X-Files or the horrors of our personal losses. It's just Scully and Mulder, bare bodies and souls. We lie on the bed caressing each other, kissing. I feel his fingers slip into the warmth of my inner core and I shudder. He moves his hand in and out of me and I gasp and moan. I don't want this stop but I feeling like I'm twisting inside out. His pace quickens and I feel myself writhing beneath him and then in a million explosions I fall into the abyss. He's kissing me now murmuring to me how beautiful I am and how much he loves me. I pull him down to me and kiss him passionately, my hand finds his length and strokes him gently. Now with more fervor. He calls my name then moans it, like a mantra. His strong hand stops me and he moves to enter me. He slides into me completing us both. He moves in and out of me with cat like grace slowly building the pressure until I am once again nearing a crescendo. His fingers find the sensitive bundle of nerves at my opening, teasing it slightly then harder. The explosions go off again, for both of us this time. He comes crashing down with my name on his lips. He rolls over onto his side and pulls me to his chest. We murmur our love for one another. We both know what this means. We both know for us, there is no such thing as a normal life. But for us this is as close as we can get and we've decided to accept it whole heartedly, cruel world be damned. Safe and warm in Mulder's arms now, I'm thinking back to my childhood again. I remember getting up early one Sunday morning to let our dog out. As I walked through the living room, I noticed two shirts beside the sofa. One of mom's and one of Ahab's. At the time, I thought it was strange. My parents were so neat, they didn't go around just throwing their dirty clothes anywhere. I picked them up and took them to the clothes hamper and didn't think of it again until today. I'm thinking of two other shirts, in another living room. But then, as now, no one's really concerned about what someone will think if they find them.