From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org Date: 17 Jun 2005 18:57:37 -0000 Subject: Something You Said (NC-17) by OKayVal Source: direct Reply To: okayval@yahoo.com Title: Something You Said Author: OKayVal Email: okayval@yahoo.com Website: http://donnilee.tripod.com/okayval Rating: Adults Only, please! Archive: Honored; just tell me where Category: RST, Post-Ep Pairings: Mulder/Scully Spoilers: Dreamland I and II; small one for Fight the Future Disclaimer: Not mine, you know the drill. Summary: Behind illusion there is truth. Scenes and post-ep for Dreamland I and II Written for Fandomonium's "Virtual Season of Smut" Challenge. Find the rest of these great stories here: http://www.fandomonium.com/challenges/xffics/vss6.htm Bouquets to Tali for rescuing me yet again. "I'm riding hard carryin' a catch of roses And a fresh map that I made Tonight I'm gonna get birth naked and bury my old soul And dance on its grave..." --Bruce Springsteen, "Long Time Comin'" *** OUTSIDE THE LITTLE A'LE INN RACHEL, NEVADA Morris Fletcher finally gets out of the car and I let out a sigh of relief. Hours of traveling across the country with him have stretched my nerves to the limit. I hope Fletcher doesn't screw up; we're lucky that Mulder's real contact decided to call back and arrange this meeting. I'm desperate for any information that will help me get Mulder back. I'm still struggling to understand how he and Fletcher switched bodies that night, but I am now certain that the man who looks like Mulder on the outside is not really Mulder on the inside. I hear a faint noise coming from outside the car; it sounds like shoes against gravel, and I grip my weapon tightly. The passenger door opens and I stare into the startled face of Morris Fletcher. *Mulder*. "Scully?" he says, staring back at me in disbelief. "Mulder, is that really you?" I wish I had x-ray vision so I can see the real Mulder beneath Fletcher's haggard face. He slips into the front seat beside me and closes the door. "What are you doing here?" he asks. "I'm trying to figure out a way to help you," I reply sadly. His eyes never leave my face; the color is wrong but the intensity of his gaze is pure Mulder. "Is Fletcher here?" he asks. "Yes. He's inside. He's supposed to be meeting with your contact and getting the flight data recorder back. What are you doing here?" He smiles ruefully. "Trying to save Fletcher's marriage. Jeff and the other goons just showed up, and they're looking for me, um, him." He glances out the window and turns back to me again. "I knew you'd figure it out, Scully," he says, his voice low. "I'm sorry I didn't believe you before," I reply. "I only trusted what I saw, not what I felt." I look away from him, embarrassed by my admission. He reaches out and gently tips my chin up with his finger, forcing me to meet his eyes. He runs his finger lightly across my cheek. "It's ok. I wouldn't have believed me, either. Not without proof. And it's not your fault that Fletcher hauled my ass off to jail before I could give you the flight recorder. The answer's there, Scully--you can find out how to fix this. Get the recorder back to DC and have the Gunmen analyze it." My mind is a blurry mess. I hear Mulder's words coming out of someone else's mouth, feel Mulder's touch coming from someone else's hand. "Maybe you'd better go back inside, Mulder. Fletcher's wife will be looking for you--him," I say. He flashes that rueful smile again. "Probably just so she can kick my ass. Or turn me in to Jeff and the Area 51 boys. I don't know how much more of this I can take. You have to get me out of here, Scully." "I'm trying, Mulder." He gives me a long look before getting out of the car. I watch him stride back to the bar and hope that whatever's in that damned black box really does have the power to end this nightmare. *** HIGHWAY 375 RURAL NEVADA I open the car door, clutching my handful of sunflower seeds tightly. I feel their smooth hulls against my palm and the hot tears in my eyes. To hell with what he looks like now--I should have kissed him. I may never get another chance. Fletcher looks at me out of Mulder's hazel eyes and I turn away in despair. *** Fletcher and I have to return the flight data recorder before we leave for DC. I stare out of the car window watching the desert spin past and almost miss it--a gas station that's literally risen from the ashes. The last time I saw this place, it was a burned-out pile of rubble. Now it's very much a whole building. My hopes rise as I order Fletcher to turn the car around. *** Illuminated by bright headlight beams, Mulder, Fletcher and I stand and wait with the agents from Area 51. I peer out into the dark desert, as though I will actually be able to see the time warp as it snaps backwards. I'm terrified; this is our only chance to return Mulder and Fletcher to their own bodies, and there is no margin for error. Mulder stands next to me in Fletcher's body and looks up at the sky; I grab his wrist tightly and don't let go. *** "C'mon Mulder, let's get out of here." I tug at his wrist and lead him gently away. It's apparent that these government goons are not going to let us anywhere near Area 51 tonight, and I think we should throw in the towel on this one and go home. Mulder follows me wordlessly, turning back to stare down the weary-looking man in the black suit that's just confronted us. The man stares back for a brief moment, casually lighting a cigarette as he shrugs and turns away. We get back into our car and I don't relax until I'm sure that Mulder drives away from Area 51 instead of doubling back to find another way around the roadblock. We can't risk getting caught again and having Kersh find out where we are. It's also late, and we need to find somewhere to stay tonight. Mulder drives in silence. Once his right hand fumbles around on the seat between us and brushes against my thigh; the contact startles me until I realize he's searching for his sunflower seeds. The package is stuck near the seatback; I wiggle it out and hold it in front of Mulder's hand. He takes his eyes off the road just long enough to glance at me as he plucks some seeds from the bag. He slides one between his lips and turns his attention back to the road. I keep the package of seeds in my hand and Mulder dips into it often. His familiar habit comforts me; ever since we got back into the car, I've been strangely anxious about Mulder, as though he's a mirage that might disappear at any moment. I'm sure I just need to get some sleep. This stretch of desert highway is dark and deserted, and we drive for miles before we find a motel. It's like every other motel we've stayed in over the past six years, except only one room is available. "We'll take it," Mulder says, his eyes daring me to object. I rise to his challenge and take the key from the desk clerk myself. The look on Mulder's face as he grabs our bags and hurries after me is priceless. The room is spartan but clean; there's one double bed and a rather lumpy armchair. Mulder sets my bag down next to the bed and drops his own bag in front of the armchair before slumping down into it with a sigh. He closes his eyes and I sense that he wants to be left alone, but my only option for escape is the bathroom. "Mind if I take a shower, Mulder?" I ask him. "Go ahead," he mumbles, eyes still shut. I take the items I need from my bag and step into the bathroom. I feel better after letting the soothing water cleanse the desert sand and dust from my skin. I slip into the oversized t-shirt I've chosen to sleep in tonight; it's just too hot for pajamas. I think about Mulder on the other side of the door and wonder why I never pack any lingerie. Then again, it's not as though we're going to share the bed. I emerge from the bathroom to find that Mulder is, in fact, stretched out the bed. The TV is on, his shoes are off, and his faded jeans cover his long legs like a second skin. My breath catches at the sight of him, and he turns to look at me. His glance travels downward and he makes no attempt to hide his obvious interest in what I'm wearing. Suddenly I'm very warm. Mulder returns his gaze to my face and mutes the sound on the TV. "Scully," he says, his tone sharp, like a knife, "have you ever told me that you wanted to kiss me?" "What?" I feel the blood rush to my face. Why is it so hot in here? "Have you ever told me that you wanted to kiss me?" he says again. Where is this coming from? I've wanted to kiss him since, well, forever, but I've never said so out loud. We almost kissed once. In Mulder's hallway, the night that everything nearly went to hell. He must have seen how much I wanted him then. But the kiss never happened. We've never talked about it, but I can't forget it. I've always wondered whether he has. I try to look for any signs that he's teasing me, but he's completely serious. "Why are you asking me, Mulder?" "I thought you said it to me once." "Maybe you dreamed it, Mulder." I finger the edges of the towel in my hand. "No, Scully. I mean, I..." He pauses and closes his eyes briefly, then opens them again and looks at me like he's made some sort of decision. "I do dream about you, but this is something I remember." Are they the same kind of dreams that I have about him? I make a decision, too. "What if I did?" He sits up straight and fixes me with a curious look. I throw the towel aside and sit next to him on the bed. Mulder watches my every move. "You mean, you do remember saying it?" "No. I've never said it. But what if it's still true?" "You know how I feel about the truth, Scully," he says, his voice thick. "Do you remember that night in your hallway?" I whisper. "Every single detail." He leans close and his eyes darken. "Then you've answered your own question, Mulder," I reply, unable to hide the quiver in my voice. His hand comes up behind my head and he pulls me close and kisses me hard. His mouth is hot and inviting and I want him to devour me with it. His tongue darts across my open lips and slides between them. He tastes salty, from sunflower seeds and sweat, and I lick back at him greedily. We tumble across the bed, breathless, touching every part of each other that we can reach. I slide my hands underneath Mulder's grey t-shirt; his chest is solid muscle and slick with sweat. He reaches around me, pulling his shirt off with one quick motion, then grabs at the hem of my t-shirt and lifts it over my head. He tosses it aside and cups my breasts with his large hands. "Beautiful," he murmurs. The heat from his hands on my bare skin sears through me and builds between my legs. I slide my hand down Mulder's firm body, moving lower until I can feel his hard length straining against his jeans. "Jesus," he hisses, jerking himself against my hand. I clutch and tug at the jeans in a desperate attempt to free him from them. Mulder helps me and together we wrestle off his jeans and boxers; he peels my panties off last and rubs one finger between my swollen lips. "So wet," he whispers, almost in wonder. That small touch sends shockwaves through my system, making me crazy for more. "Please, Mulder, now," I gasp. He gives me a scorching look, covers my body with his and pushes into me with one rapid thrust. We gasp in unison at the sensation of our first contact. I never imagined it would be like this, could feel like this. My hips begin to move of their own accord, urging Mulder on. He gets the message and begins thrusting slowly. Too slowly. He fills me, thick and solid, but it's not enough. I try to rock faster beneath him but he seems caught up in a rhythm of his own. "Mulder," I pant out. "God, Scully," he moans. "More," I plead. "Faster." I shift my body, trying to make him go deeper, and at last he understands what I need. He settles his hips, pressing his weight against me, and strokes faster, harder. Now I can finally feel every delicious inch of him against my inflamed walls; I am lost. "Is this what you want, Scully?" Mulder grunts, in time with his relentless thrusts. "Yes," I cry. Mulder rams into me like a wild thing, then stops suddenly, shuddering and moaning my name as he comes. His warmth flows through me, setting off a fierce crescendo of pleasure that lasts until I shatter completely. *** My eyes open and I try to focus them on the face next to mine. Mulder's face. He's awake, lying on his side and wearing a lazy, satisfied smile. "Hey," he says quietly. I don't think I've ever seen him look so content. "Hey," I reply. We stare at each other for a moment and he reaches out and begins running his fingers through my hair, down my cheek, along my jaw, like he's making sure I'm real and not a dream. His hands work their magic on my skin and my body soon yearns for more than just a gentle caress. I know it's normal for a man to get a morning erection, but I can't resist stealing a glance just to check. Mulder follows my gaze and reads my mind. "No," he says, taking my hand and placing it around his cock. "This is because of *you*." I hold his smooth, pulsing heat in my hand, still amazed that he wants me this much. I slide my hand along his length until he groans and stops me with a furious kiss. And we begin again. This time it's slow and sweet. I take my time, using my lips and hands to explore the terrain of his bare skin. Smooth here, rough there. Soft here, hard there. Mulder is doing some exploring of his own, using his talented mouth to suck and lick me in places I never knew could be so sensitive. He moves his mouth to my wet entrance and I clutch at his hair helplessly, moaning from the rapture he creates inside me with each stroke of his tongue. My orgasm surges through me like a burst of white heat, and I shudder uncontrollably against Mulder's mouth. He stay with me until he feels my body slacken, then lifts his head and looks at me like I am the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. His eyes are glazed and I know he must ache for his own release. I am suddenly overcome by the desire to take control and give him what he needs, so when he eases his body over mine, I gently push against his chest. Mulder catches on to my gentle command and rolls onto his back, pulling me on top of him. Slick and liquid, I lower myself onto his cock and begin rocking madly against him. What started out slowly finishes in a mad rush as Mulder drives into me and hurtles us both over the edge. *** We don't talk much on the plane, but Mulder's message is clear; when we took our seats, he laced his fingers through mine and hasn't let go of my hand once. It's gentle and sweet, but I'm still feeling a little shell-shocked by what's happening between us. It's more intense than I'd ever dreamed, yet I can't help worrying about what lies ahead. Mulder's walking such a fine line at the Bureau; I know he's going to cross it someday, and they could try to split us up again. We arrive back in DC and decide that it's better for Mulder to go home, while I head to the office to make sure that there's no fallout from this our little side trip to the desert. We share a chaste kiss in the terminal before parting ways. It's strange and exciting to kiss Mulder in public, and I fight a sudden urge to shove him against a wall and have my way with him right here in the airport. *** FBI HEADQUARTERS It's late and the office is deserted. I check around for signs that anyone has been tracking us, but find nothing out of the ordinary. I call Mulder on his cell phone and give him the good news. He sighs with relief and admits I was right, that Nevada was yet another wild-goose chase. "Hey, Scully?" he adds. "I, uh, know it's not your normal life, but--thanks for coming out there with me." What I once envisioned as a normal life fades before my eyes; without Mulder, it's only a mirage. Being with him is the only life I want now, even if it means never getting out of that damned car. "You're welcome," I tell Mulder. Very welcome. This trip wasn't a complete loss; my body is still humming from this morning's activities. I hang up the phone and open my desk drawer. A strange, shiny object catches my eye and I fish it out curiously. Two coins fused together; where did this come from? I don't remember finding it anywhere. Probably something Mulder tossed in here and forgot about. The phone rings and I set the coin aside to answer it. "Um, Scully? Could you come over here before you go home?" Mulder's voice sounds odd. "I will if you want me to, Mulder. Is something wrong?" "Nothing, I guess, but there's something I want you to take a look at." "I'm on my way." "Oh, and Scully? How do you feel about mirrors?" *** Finis *** Feedback welcomed. It's all good!