From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org
Date: Tue, 30 Sep 2008 10:13:37 -0500 (CDT)
Subject: Somewhere Beyond by Adrienne
Source: direct

Reply To: davephile@yahoo.com


Title: Somewhere Beyond
Author: Adrienne < davephile@yahoo.com > 
Date: Sept. 30, 2008
Rating: R
Spoilers: post-IWTB
Classification: V, MSR
Keywords: Mulder/Scully
Archive: Anytime, anywhere
Summary: The night calls for a reconnect by lamplight.
Disclaimer: These two aren't mine.
Author's Notes: This was originally written for the Grand X-Files 
Porn Battle at LiveJournal. I wrote others but this one is dear 
to my heart. You can check out all the Porn Battle fics by 
visiting http://community.livejournal.com/xf_pornbattle.
___________________________________________

The night calls for a reconnect by lamplight after the turbulent 
waves of the past subside. She undresses slowly and lays on the 
bed, waiting for him. It's silent. They're capable of speaking 
with or without words and she's not entirely sure where her 
preference lies. But his eyes speak volumes as he spoons up to 
her, wrapping his arm around her stomach.

She turns and looks at him. She sees a bright-eyed boy in there, 
somewhere beneath fine lines of age. Somewhere beyond his 
knowledge of things not to be mentioned. She touches the swollen 
wound above his left eyebrow, just another injury to add to the 
mental scrapbook detailing their battle wounds.

He kisses her palm and looks at her adoringly. It makes her 
smile, that look in his eyes. Like she's truly his world, the 
rays of sunshine in his life. "Hey," she says, running her thumb 
over his lower lip.

"I love you." The look in his eyes turns serious. Gravity is 
pulling him, pulling both of them gently back to firmly packed 
snow, blood-spattered under their feet. It had been so long since 
she'd smelled putrid blood, the vacant hint of death in the air.

"I love you too," she says. She remembers the first time they 
exchanged those words, really said them, verbatim, lucid, wrapped 
up in worn cotton sheets in his old apartment years ago. She'd 
been perched over his hips, hovering before the instant that 
everything changed, and the words slipped past her lips as her 
forehead touched his. He'd echoed them, his gentle voice like a 
dream. Feeling complete, at that moment and afterward, came at a 
price, a ransom they kept paying to fate.

"I want to be inside you," he whispers, running his fingers 
through her hair. He kisses her eyebrow. "Now. Forever."

"You are," she says. Their lips meet. He nudges against her 
mouth, parting his lips for more.

They consume each other in every imaginable way. His mouth 
caresses hers, grazes her neck. Her fingers read his back, the 
curves and lines, the ridges of his shoulders. His lips feather 
over the curves of her breasts, worship the hollow of her 
stomach. Breath arrives hot and moist on the inside of her bent 
knee, on her inner thigh, until he eagerly greets her with his 
tongue and she rises to him, a sharp breath out, a sharp breath 
in.

His fingers slip in, his tongue slides over, and she is moving 
her hips with him, to him, perfectly in synch with his mouth, his 
hand. He knows how to play her after years of practice, but it 
never feels like the same song.

She pulls on his hair and he rises over her. There are few times 
when she realizes how big he is, how small she is, but when he 
covers her body gently is when it's most obvious. He settles 
between her thighs and pushes into her, watching her face, 
meeting her eyes, listening intently to her moan. She tilts her 
hips and curls her legs around him, pulling him deeper. He 
nuzzles his face into her neck and she surrounds him, protecting 
him. 

Reconnected, basic, his warm skin tastes just like him--that never 
changed over the years, the delicious taste of his shoulder. The 
way he kisses her and pulls at her bottom lip with his teeth, the 
way he smiles when she writhes under his body. His rhythm, his 
thrusts and his low, gravely moans. His hardness and how he 
whispers her name, the way she answers him with his own. Her 
fingernails and how they dig into his back, desperate for more.

Amid change, constants remain, and in a vulnerable world of 
darkness, she still sees a bright-eyed boy, hopeful in wonder, 
carelessly in awe.

- end -