From: cratkinson Date: 17 Oct 00 23:40:53 MDT Subject: Watched by cratkinson Source: direct Title: Watched Author: cratkinson e-mail: cratkinson@usa.net Date: April 26, 2000 Archive: Yes, please just let me know where Feedback: Please! Spoilers: None Rating: PG? I never know. Classification: MSR, V Keywords: UST, Scully POV Disclaimer: These characters are the property of 1013 Productions and Fox Television and are not mine in any way. Summary: He's staring at her and she gets a little bit brave. Author's Notes: This is another one to read *slowly*. It's no fun if you wolf it down. *************************** She felt his gaze settle on her. It was a familiar feeling for her - he was a watcher. Usually she just continued with what she was doing until he found something else to occupy his attention and looked away. Sometimes she'd look up and smile, breaking his fixed gaze and snapping him back into motion. Occasionally, when she was feeling especially strong, she'd simply meet his eyes, matching his stare with her own. But this time, it felt different. Or maybe she felt different. Either way, she allowed herself to react to him. Allowed herself to be watched. She felt her lips drop open slightly, softening from their previous tight line of concentration. The tip of her tongue peeked out and touched one small, deliberate spot on the edge of her upper lip and then disappeared again. She turned the page she was reading and tilted her head to follow, allowing her hair to fall in a cascade across her cheek. The light from the desk lamp shone through this curtain, making her hair spark with a million precious-metal colors. He watched and she felt his eyes like a physical weight. Like heat. She delicately pushed her hair behind her ear, her fingers smoothing the curve over and over. She rested her elbow on the desk next to the open file and dropped her chin onto the heel of her hand. She let her fingers curl up and rest on her lips, four polished fingertips right in a row. A mouth is a funny thing, she thought, as her fingers idly caressed her own. Why so sensitive? Why so many nerve endings in this body part whose function is communication and consumption? Why did it feel so good - touching, brushing, sliding, dragging along? And why did it feel so much better when someone else was doing the touching? And still he watched her. She could see him in her peripheral vision, although she refused to look up. He hadn't moved even a fraction of an inch. She slipped the tip of her index finger into her mouth, trapping the manicured nail between her front teeth and rotating her hand lazily back and forth. She released the nail and dropped both of her hands to the top of the desk. She was able to leave them there for a minute, but when she turned another page, that finger found its way back to her mouth. Her tongue played with her nail, running along the sharpish edge and then sliding underneath to touch her fingertip. She ran her tongue along the ridge where her natural short nail joined the longer one. She slid the nail across her smooth teeth, enjoying the tiny noise it made as it bumped along from tooth to tooth. She finally pulled her fingertip out of her mouth, her lips softly clamping down and sucking as she slipped it free. She ran her fingertip back and forth, back and forth, spreading a tiny drop of moisture across her lower lip. That's when she heard him sigh. And she knew. She had to meet his eyes. It was time. She wanted to see his reaction to her. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath to calm the sudden thundering of her heart, and slowly opened them again. She wanted to confront not just his reaction to her, but her obvious reaction to him. She finally wanted them both to acknowledge what was between them. Her eyes slowly traveled across her desk and rose up to where he sat, his head angled toward her as it had been for the past twenty minutes. He was asleep. ~~~~~~~~~~~~ End