From:             Margi Kleinjan <kleinjan@btinternet.com>
Subject:          Sweet Revenge
Date sent:        Sat, 17 Jan 1998 15:07:36 -0000

Title: Sweet Revenge
Author: Cerulean 
Rating: NC17
Classification: SRA
Spoilers: None
Keywords: ???
Summary: Mulder is happy. He has a date. Scully is not 
happy. She takes revenge.

Disclaimer: They're not mine. So sue me (please don't 
really, it's just an expression)

Notes: I'm writing this cos I was reading ff today and it 
struck me how many Scully-has-a-date-and-Mulder-is
-pissed-off stories there are out there. So why doesn't 
Mulder ever have a date, except in those responses to 
'The Bitch' challenge???
Maybe I'm just reading the wrong stories and I just don't 
notice the Mulder-has-a-date-and-Scully-is-pissed-off 
ones, but either way, it's an excuse to write something, 
isn't it? 
I was trying not to make this one of those clich‚ stories 
where the date looks and sounds just like Scully etc, but 
when I was half way through and I gave the date a name, 
it did accidentally end up looking a little bit like 'Scully'. 
But it wasn't my fault, cos I named her after that singer 
from Alisha's Attic, and I only realised later. Sorry etc. 
I guess I owe some thanks to Margi, for once again 
editing for me, and for passing on a joke about flashlights 
for me ; )

xoxox
Sweet Revenge
by Cerulean
xoxox

Scully's baby pink fingernails tapped against the cold 
wood of Mulder's desk. He wasn't there. 

She looked at the clock. She thought about going home 
like a sensible person. She decided to stay.

She picked up a file and made a pretence of reading it. 
There was nobody around to see this act, and she soon 
gave up. 

Her fingers clasped around the top drawer of his desk. 
It was locked. The key was in his pen caddie. She 
unlocked it. 

The drawer was a smaller, slightly elongated reflection 
of his apartment. There was actually half a sandwich 
under some papers. 

Scully wrinkled her nose and dropped the moist BLT 
into the bin beside the desk. 

Under the first few papers were pens, and elastic bands, 
and discarded paper cuttings about UFO sightings, 
which were obviously not interesting enough to join the 
millions of others on the wall. 

They smelled of bacon. 

The whole room was smelling of bacon. This was just 
about as much as Scully could stand, but when she 
delved deeper into the desk drawer and her fingers 
met something sticky which left an orangeish residue, 
she closed the drawer and locked it. 

After wiping her hands, she moved on to inspect the 
second drawer. It was one of those double thickness 
drawers which looks like two until you open it. 

She expected videos, but was pleasantly surprised to 
see that Mulder had moved his collection someplace 
else. 

In the place of all those adult movies was a big empty 
space. There was dust lining the outside of the drawer, 
and Scully felt deeper to check there was nothing of 
any interest hidden in the dark back corners.

Finally her fingers met with a piece of card. She got 
her fingernails underneath it and prised it out from the 
bottom, where it had obviously been for quite a 
substantial amount of time.

It was a photograph of himself. It made Scully laugh, 
the main reason being that Mulder had long hair and 
a floral shirt in the picture. She wondered why and how 
it had gotten into his porn drawer. It couldn't have been 
there since it was taken, as this must have been nearly 
twenty years ago. 

With one last giggle, she remembered why she was 
in the office, and discarded the photograph in the piles 
of junk on Mulder's desk. 

Once again, she thought reasonable, rational, *mature* 
thoughts about going home and yelling at Mulder in the 
morning.

But it wouldn't have the same effect, she decided. 
She was worked up and ready for a fight right then and 
there. She was determined to sit in the dark of the 
office like a selfish child until Mulder arrived back and 
gave her an explanation for ditching her *again*. 

This wasn't an ordinary, run-of-the-mill ditch - oh no! 
It wasn't as if he had just vanished off somewhere 
without a word of explanation, or anything normal and 
*comforting* like that.

He had stood there in the office, no less than three 
hours ago, and told her that he wasn't going to 
accompany her to Alberta that afternoon. He said he 
was going to catch up with her later because he had a 
date and it couldn't wait. 

She had questioned his professionalism to his face, 
and he had shrugged it off. 

Deserting her own professionalism, she had sat fuming 
in the office after he'd gone, holding the car keys he 
had entrusted to her, and thinking about driving the car 
right into a concrete wall, killing herself in the process, 
just to show him how mad she was at him. But that 
would involve suicide, and she didn't want to be 
remembered as someone that unstable.

Then she had decided to 'lose' the keys whilst visiting 
an entomologist friend in a live bug laboratory. But who 
did she know who was an entomologist friend?

Then she had decided to tell Skinner that Mulder had 
handed in his resignation and run off to Hawaii with 
his secret Latino lover. She didn't have the nerve.

Then she had finally settled on ditching the case, 
denying that Mulder had ever given her the keys, 
and spending the night in the office waiting for him to 
come back so she could have a go at him. 

It was the most cowardly of the options, but she still 
felt as though she was on an important mission. 

Scully was getting bored. She was bored out of her 
mind. She flicked the desk lamp - the only source of 
light - off. Then on. Then off. Then on. Then off. Then 
it wouldn't switch back on again.

She tightened the bulb, and hit the lamp, and swore 
at the lamp, and flicked the switch back and forth 
and back and forth and so on but it was no good. 
The bulb was out.

The smell of bacon was getting sickening, and it was 
too dark to see *anything*.

At this point, Scully actually considered just going 
home, but then she heard footsteps in the corridor 
outside and, on an impulse, she ducked underneath 
the desk.

"Are you sure there's no-one here?" It was a woman's 
voice. Scully shoved herself into the corner of the 
desk and got comfortable, all the time ready to take 
out her gun if the woman was one of Them. Or even 
if she wasn't.

"My partner's in Alberta, and we're really not 
supposed to be here, so I don't think anyone will find 
us." That was definitely Mulder, turning on the charm. 
Scully's finger was brushing the trigger of the gun by 
the time he'd finished his sentence. She took deep 
breaths and waited to see what would happen next.

"Won't there be, like, security guards or something?" 

She was young, Scully determined. Young or 
terminally stupid.

"Not if we lock the door."

She giggled. "Isn't there a light or something in here? 
It's really dark." 

"Yeah, there's one on the desk." 

Scully listened, half satisfied to the sound of the 
switch clicking but with no effect.

"I guess the bulb's gone." Mulder said. 

"Well, that's okay. Darkness is kinda cool, I guess." 

There was almost silence for a minute, and then 
Scully figured from the sounds of zippers unzipping 
and the like, that she was about to witness something 
very *very* annoying. 

"Do you love me?" The girl said. Scully almost snorted.

It took Mulder a while to reply, and Scully guessed 
that he was summing up the reaction to his answer. 
She was young, maybe just sixteen at the very least. 
She probably still had parents and counsellors and 
teachers all drumming Virginity Is Good into her day 
and night and night and day. If he said no, then she 
would leave. If he said yes, he would be a filthy rotten 
liar, breaking the law, and he would most likely get 
fucked right there and then. 

His answer was obvious. A no-brainer. 

"Of course I do." Was his answer. 

"Tell me properly." The girl insisted. Scully pictured 
her - small and blonde, popping out of her sweater 
at every turn, and chewing gum with fat red lips and 
shiny white teeth. 

"Of course I love you, Shelly." 

Shelly. Such a nice name, Scully thought. This name 
changed her perspective of the girl a bit. Maybe her 
mouth wouldn't be quite so large. She could have black 
hair. 

Shelly giggled, and the mental image became blonde 
again. "I'm going to tell you a secret." She said. Her 
voice was starting to chronically annoy Scully. She 
was too close to that bacon for comfort, as well. 

"What secret?" Mulder asked, fitting in just nicely with 
her teenage tone. It made Scully sick. Figuratively.

"I'm a virgin." She whispered.

<Haha! Knew it!> Scully was proud. She waited for 
Mulder's clich‚ answer, but none came. He was 
getting right down to business, no talking. No talking, 
but lots of noise. 

And they were taking ages as well. After what 
seemed like years, Scully was starting to imagine 
them never stopping, and being forced to live under 
that desk forever, with only half an old BLT to feed 
on. 

After a while - after things had got very much louder - 
they got very much quieter, and Scully slightly suspected 
that Mulder had fallen asleep. Typical male behaviour. 

Shelly was quiet too. Scully suspected she could sneak 
out and they wouldn't notice. Except that the basement 
door was locked and Mulder had the only key in his 
pants. 

Then again, he probably wasn't actually wearing his 
pants. She could probably find the keys and escape 
quite easily, locking them in and leaving them for the 
caretaker to find. 

It wasn't going to work. She moved slightly and 
discovered that she had cramp in her left foot. 
"AARRRGGHH." She exclaimed, trying desperately 
to bend her foot back for some relief. 

"What was that?" Shelly asked, and Scully's stomach 
burst out of her throat and ran around under the desk, 
screaming 'help me, help me'. 

"I don't know."

"There's someone in the room." Shelly said. "Can you 
switch the light on?"

"The bulb's out." Mulder reminded her, and Scully 
thought he sounded more like a parent than a lover. 
"But I think I have a flashlight. I'll see who's there."

"Okay." 

The strong beam of light hit the wall on the other side 
of the desk, and Scully prepared herself to be 
discovered.

"There doesn't seem to be anyone here, Shelly. It was 
probably just..."

"Aliens??" She asked sceptically.

<What a little bitch> Scully decided, adding some 
cruel frowning brows onto her mental image of the 
girl.

"Uh... well... we're in the basement down here, and 
sound travels through the vents..."

"I thought you said there was no-one around."

"Did I?" Mulder rubbed his head. 

"Look under the desk." Shelly said. "There's somebody 
under there."

"I'm sure there isn't." Mulder said, climbing past some 
boxes and old junk which were in between him and 
Scully. "God, what *is* that smell?"

Mulder was getting near. Time for some fast thinking. 
*Very* fast thinking. 

By the time the sharp white beam hit her equally pale 
skin, she had devised a plan. 

Well, maybe not exactly a full 'plan'. That word put her 
in mind of the blueprints Wile E. Coyote had when he 
was plotting against Roadrunner. And they always 
failed. 

So maybe this was more of an *idea*. And not even 
really much of one, she mused. It probably would only 
make Mulder mad at her and she'd probably lose her 
job or her mind in the process. 

But then again...

"Scully!"

"Don't 'Scully' me." She snapped, her voice cracking 
with fake emotion.

"What... what are you doing under the desk?" Mulder 
paled as the whole situation fully dawned on him.

"Well where else was I supposed to go?? You... you 
said you'd meet me here." Scully continued.

"What?" 

"You said you'd meet me here nearly three hours ago! 
And then I heard you coming so I thought I'd surprise 
you, but then I heard a woman... so I hid..." Her act 
was reaching the climax and she burst into theatrical 
tears.

"What's going on?" Shelly asked. 

"It's okay, it's just Scully." Mulder said, totally bemused.

Scully snapped the tears off and became Angry Ditched 
Girlfriend Woman. "Oh! Oh! I see! So I'm 'just Scully' 
now am I?"

"Scully what are you talking about? Get out from under 
there." 

"No!"

"You can't stay under there all night, Scully. Now come 
out and we'll sort whatever is wrong out."

Scully paused. 

"Come on - do it! You'll get cramped under there."

Scully paused again. "All right. I'll do it, Mulder. I'll do 
it, but I never want to see you again, in or out of work." 

She climbed out from under the desk. It was enough 
to make her fall over in hysterics, but she was enjoying 
remembering her days in her school drama society too 
much to ruin her act now. 

She looked in disgust at Shelly. She was really beautiful 
- not at all like the mental image. She had shiny *shiny* 
black hair and olive skin, and deep soul-searching eyes. 
But Scully's face registered pure contempt.

"You stood me up for *her*????"

"Stood you up??? What are you talking about???"

"Oh my God." Shelly's face crumpled, but she didn't cry. 
She looked ill.

Scully turned around and slapped Mulder in the face. 
The noise was delicious. 

"Hey!" Mulder yelled. Shelly was already gathering her 
things up ready to leave.

"I'd like some money for a cab, please." She said, not 
unreasonably.

Mulder looked thoroughly shaken. "Wait, Shelly - just 
wait." He turned to Scully. "What's got into you?" 

Scully frowned. Her face was hard and cruel, but - with 
her back to Shelly - her voice was small and whimpering. 
"I thought you loved me." She said shakily. 

"Just a few bucks." Shelly insisted.

Mulder looked at Scully for a few seconds longer, and 
then crossed the room to get some money out of his 
pants.

"Don't go." He said, holding the money in his hand. "I 
don't know what she's talking about - she's just someone 
I work with, I swear."

"Right. Whatever." Shelly took the money. "Can you 
unlock the door please?" Mulder did so silently, his 
puppy dog eyes all the time pleading with Shelly not 
to leave. "I don't expect you to call me." She said as 
she left, slamming the door after her. 

Scully watched Mulder slam his fist against the door, 
half illuminated by the flashlight. "Feisty girl. Admirable 
quality." She said. 

"What the fuck was that all about?" Mulder asked. 

Scully could feel the tension in the air, or maybe it was 
just the bacon, but either way - a fight was about to 
begin.

"Mulder, you are the most insensitive guy I have 
*ever* known. And that's really saying something."

"You're supposed to be in Alberta."

"Well, so are you. Why should one rule apply to me 
but not you?" These lines had been stirring in her head 
all day, but they didn't sound quite as bone-chilling when 
she finally got them out.

"You were here?" Mulder changed tack. "You were 
**here** all the time while she was here???"

"What was I supposed to do? It's not exactly like I could 
just pop out in the middle of it all, and say 'sorry, it's all 
been a mistake  - I'll get out of your way'??"

"That would have been *fine* in comparison to what 
you *did* say."

Scully couldn't help but smile. Mulder saw her lips 
illuminated and wanted to smack them. "You expect 
me to sit here alone all day while you go gallivanting 
off with your cheerleader friend, and not extract any 
revenge whatsoever?" She asked.

"I *expected* you to be in Alberta."

"This conversation isn't going anywhere." Scully pointed 
out and Mulder marched towards her.

"Scully - I don't see how we can be friends after this." 
He said, threateningly.

"Well, that's just fine. I'm not sure I can take you 
seriously after that pathetic little performance back 
there."

"Pathetic???"

"Well, let's face it Mulder, how long did Shelly stick 
around for afterwards? A full fifteen minutes???"

"That's not fair."

"*Life's* not fair. If life was fair then we'd be in Alberta 
and everything would be normal." Scully frowned. 
"I'm going to Skinner first thing on Monday to be 
transferred." She said, her jaw set and her eyes 
staring. "I'll see you around. Maybe." She pushed past, 
shoving right into him as she did so. 

She froze instantly, and turned back around to face 
him. "Well, Mulder." She said with an evil smile. "Is 
that your spare flashlight in your pants, or are you 
just pleased to..."

"Don't, Scully." Mulder said, annoyed. "Just don't. 
Okay?" 

Scully bit her lip. "Touchy subject, huh??"

"I thought you'd gone." He said stonily. "I thought this 
was goodbye forever?"

Returning to her hugely evil smirk, Scully shrugged. 
"Maybe it is. Or maybe it's hello for the first time."

"Quit talking in riddles." Mulder said, attempting to 
recover some of his clothes (and dignity).

"Well? You're the psychologist - you figure it out."

"What do you want from me?" He whirled around. 
"You've already ruined my evening, probably my 
career and possibly my whole life. Just go home."

"I can't."

"Why?"

"Because that would involve taking your car, and 
how would you get home?" 

Mulder stopped. "Give me the keys."

"No."

"Where are they, Scully?"

"I'm not telling." Scully said playfully. The anger had 
gone from her, but there was still enough hatred to 
keep her winding Mulder up. She felt quite 
lightheaded.

"Scully!"

"Why do you always have to drive?" She asked, 
pouting. "Because you're the guy?????? The big 
macho man???" Her tone was girlie and sweet.

"I'm not listening to this."

"Oh come on Mulder - tell me my legs are too short. 
You know how I *love* it when you do that."

Mulder began pulling his sweater over his head, but 
Scully started to tickle him.

"Wha... Stop it. I mean it, Scully."

"Come on, then." Scully whispered, tugging at the 
material of his sweater. "Show me." Her hands 
pressed against him. "Show me what you're made of."

Mulder was silent for what seemed like hours, while 
Scully stood before him, waiting for his response. 
"Well????" She questioned him. 

"Well, as long as you're leaving." Mulder said without 
any feeling in his voice. "As long as I never have to 
see you again."

<Bastard> "Okay." Scully said. "Okay. You'll never 
see me again." 

They paused for a minute, and then Scully shakily 
pulled the sweater over Mulder's head, her fingers 
caressing every inch of the flesh she met whist doing 
so.

Her mind stayed in cold hard focus. She wasn't 
causing pleasure, she was taking revenge. She hooked 
her leg around his, and stroked down the length of his 
calf with the side of her foot. 

She pulled her body against him and ground her hips 
against his erection, clinically registering every gasp 
and every noise he made. 

Using just the tip of her first finger, she traced down 
Mulder's jawline; pressed his bottom lip, and followed 
through - down, down his body. 

She gently played with his nipples, leaning her head on 
his shoulder and breathing against him, feeling him
tremble at every touch. 

Her finger followed down and met the silken material. 
Sliding her fingers inside, she felt Mulder's grip on her 
waist tighten and he clenched his jaw. 

Scully's fingers slid down and down, and then stopped.

She moved away from Mulder and removed her jacket 
and blouse. He watched with what Scully interpreted as 
curiosity. 

She closed her eyes and brushed the soft lace of her 
bra against his chest. 

Then he stopped standing still and helpless and began 
to hungrily remove her skirt and bra. His lips grazed 
the flesh of her neck and she suddenly stopped feeling 
detached, and began to feel aroused. 

He removed her pantyhose awkwardly; all the time with 
his mouth against her skin and his hands fumbling with 
her underwear.

Control. She ignored her wetness as a meaningless 
physical reaction to being touched, and her mind 
floated back to her clinical line of thoughts.

While Mulder was kneeling down and vulnerable, she 
nudged him just enough so that he was sprawled 
helplessly on the floor. She dropped down on top of him 
and swirled her tongue around his nipple, holding him 
down by his shoulders. 

Shifting backwards, she eased herself down until he 
was deep inside her. "I hate you." She said, sliding up 
slowly, and then down again, and then fell into a rhythm. 
"I hate you." She repeated over and over. 

His hands were clenching her buttocks, driving her 
closer to him as his hips rose up involuntarily to meet 
her angered thrusts. 

One finger slid around her thigh, and up into the 
moistness. He dug into her clitoris, falling in time with 
her rhythm, and Scully's cries turned from anger to 
angry arousal. 

By the time she came, she was crying. She didn't 
want Mulder inside her, she didn't want him trying to 
comfort her, to stop her from weeping so violently. 

"I'll see you around." She said finally, leaving him 
alone in the darkness. 

She gathered up her clothes and pulled them on 
shakily. They didn't seem to fit. They smelt of dead 
pig. 

She managed to convert back to her icy former 
self by the time her shoes were on. "I suppose I'll 
see you again." She said, running her fingers 
through her hair, trying to restore some order to it 
as she walked to the door.

"Scully, wait." 

She turned around and felt that Mulder was standing 
beside her. "What?" She asked.

Mulder didn't reply verbally, but instead kissed her. 
She wanted to pull away, to leave, to carry out her 
threats. 

Mulder was being sincere. He wasn't leading her on 
like he had possibly lead Shelly on. He wasn't trying 
to take revenge for fucking him and leaving him. 
He was kissing her because he wanted to, and taking 
her breath away. 

"Thank-you." He whispered as they pulled away. "You 
were wonderful." 

She wondered for a moment if he was being sarcastic, 
and in the darkness, she couldn't check his facial 
expression to verify this. But then his arms encircled 
her and she felt him smelling her hair, burying his lips 
in it. 

She rested her head against his chest and they held 
each other for the longest time, until Scully remembered 
the infra-red security cameras, and they had whole 
other problems to deal with. Together.

finis