DISCLAIMER: Fox and Dana are together in this, in the biblical sense.
The Content is NC-17. Deal with that however you like.

This is an X-Files story by Christine Lamoreaux.
No copyright infringement is intended.
The material and story contained herein is copyrighted in the
name of Christine Lamoreaux.

Christine Lamoreaux is not on the 'net (alas). She has a voice through
Patrick Belliotti at belliott@cutter.ship.edu, Shippensburg, PA.

Responses, comments, etc. can be sent directly to Christine at
her home address via USPS: 9250 Sober Road, Fowlerville,
Michigan (MI) 48836. She also has no phone.

The story is untitled. Enjoy! ------------------------------------------------------------------------
(C) copyright 1994, Christine Lamoreaux.

"This is not going to work, Scully. No. Not now. Not at all!"
Scully glared at him. "Mulder," she hissed, "I sincerely
believe that the only thing you're afraid of in this entire
universe is ME!"

--------------

It had all started out so innocently. (As innocent as
Mulder's snide remarks ever were, anyway...) They'd had a
layover, so the two of them, not wanting to venture from the
airport, had gone into the snack shop. It was one of those
snack/gift shops that are to sirports like a fetus is to a womb.
Mulder ordered something to eat and Scully, amused as usual by
her partner's ability to eat whenever, wherever, or whatever, had
simply ordered a cup of hot tea.
Afterwards, they'd browsed the giftshop, where a rack of
sweat shirts, emblazoned by obnoxious logos, became the
culprit. One in particular. It was over-sized, a blinding pink
and boldly stated, "I WANT YOUR BODY!"
Scully, flipping through them, had been looking at it with a
pensive, somewhat repulsed expression on her face.
Mulder, realizing at that moment that in spite of the
X-Files, he still hadn't seen everything, quipped "Oh, I see that
one in your eyes all the time!"
Scully, the sweat shirt still clasped between her fingers,
froze, her body tensing like a rope drawn taut. Then she let
the sweatshirt drop and turned to face him.
He'd been grinning like a proud child, but when she crossed
her arms over her chest, the smirk had slithered from his face
like raindrops on a window pane. She looked smug and angry at
the same time. A beautiful arrogance that had made Mulder's toes
curl up inside of his expensive shoes.
"Are you kidding, Mulder? Or is that your roundabout way of
coming on to me? Somehow coy looks on you like lint on an
icecube."

Mulder had felt his heart detach itself from his chest and
tromp into his throat. At the same time, like so many times
before, he'd felt his penis react to her perfection. A challenge
that he couldn't bring himself to meet. "You know I was, Scully.
Lighten up."
She relaxed. At least her body had, but her eyes, the
epitome of fury, had not. She turned away from him, removed the
garish sweat shirt and waltzed over to the cashier with it.
Mulder had followed, standing directly behind her as the
cashier rang it up. Over her shoulder, close to her ear, he
whispered, "What are you doing?"
His breath, warm against her neck, caught her off guard
and she blushed. Like gasoline thrown onto a fire, this
infuriated her even further. The cashier, eyes widening as she
confronted the picture the two of them made, quickly folded the
sweat shirt and placed it into a bag, which she handed to Scully.
Scully, barely audible and through clenched teeth had
retorted, "I'm buying this so I can wear it to bed and dream
about you."
Then she walked out of the gift shop with the bag under her
arm. Mulder, a look of honest bewilderment on his face, shrugged
his shoulders and followed her out.
The air trip was uneventful, the silence had been
unbearable. For Mulder anyway. He had made a few attempts at
conversation, but they had all fallen flat. Even when he had
commented on the case they'd just been assigned. Scully, never
once making eye contact with him, had sat in her narrow seat,
picking at the bag in her lap and looking like a defunct goddess.
Much later, Mulder had gone to his hotel room, hungry,
feeling grimey and pondering a bit over his strange day with
Scully. He'd finally decided on room service and a hot shower
when he heard a knock on the door. He looked through the peep
hole and Dana's profile met his eyes. As soon as he unlocked the
door, she pushed it open and quickly came inside. With her back
against the door, her hands still wrapped around the knob, she
faced him. She was wearing the sweat shirt, which hung down to
her knees, and nothing else. She arched her lovely eyebrows and
suggested, "Let's pretend I'm dreaming."

------------

Mulder, panic seizing him like a frightened cat, stared at
her and retorted, "No. This is not going to work, Scully. No.
Not now. Not at all!"
Scully glared at him. "Mulder," she hissed, "I sincerely
believe that the only thing you're afraid of in this entire
universe is ME!"

He shook his head and announced, "No, I'm not."
"Or your feelings for me," she announced back.
Calmer this time, he shook his head again. "No, I'm not."
"Then you're afraid to touch me."
"No," he stated, and his eyes glinted dangerously.
Scully stepped closer to him and exploded, "How goddamn
specific do I have to be before you'll admit to it? I feel like
a truant officer!"
Then she grabbed at the gaudy sweat shirt and pulled it off,
over her head. She threw it on the floor between them and stood
up straight, a look of defiance on her face, mischief peeking

from her eyes.

Mulder, thrown completely off guard, moved as though he'd
been struck by a blunt object. His eyes, losing their intensity,
overflowed with a warmth that she had only glimpsed once or twice
before.
She smiled at him and said, "I don't care what comes out of
your mouth, Mulder, your eyes tell me everything."
Then she turned around, leaving the sweat shirt where it
lay, and stepped towards the door. As she reached for the knob
she felt his hand. It was under her hair, sliding up her neck
until he reached the back of her head. Then he simply held it
there. She stopped, her arm fell away from the door and she
signed. A sign of someone who has just completed a very
difficult but necessary task.
Slowly, holding her breath, she turned around. As she did,
his hand slid to her neck and down her back. When she was facing
him again, she looked up and gasped. Never before had she seen
such an angry look in his eyes. His nostrils were even flaring!
But, being Dana Scully, she wasn't afraid. Actually, it
made her happy and before she could stop herself she said, "Raw
emotion, Mulder? This is a first for us, wouldn't you say?
Almost _alien_ to your makeup. Obviously, I bring out something
primeval in you."
His expression didn't change, he didn't make a sound, but
his fingers began to caress her. Tenderly moving down the soft
skin on her back until he reached her buttocks. He cupped one in
his hand, stroking her once, twice, and moving down to her
thighs. Ever...so...gently....
Scully continued to gaze at his face, trying hard to
concentrate, to see when and if his expression would change. But
when he lightly ran his finger along the inside of her buttocks,
her knees felt weak. She closed her eyes and moaned.
Then he stopped. He withdrew his hand and stepped back.
Her eyes flew open as she stared at him, wide-eyed, glaring, he
said "Tit for tat, Scully."
Her clitoris throbbed, her nipples were rock hard, and when
she spoke her voice was obviously controlled. "Then I guess it's
my move now."
She advanced a step or two towards him, and when he held out
his hand to ward her off she grabbed it, pulled it to her mouth
and gently bit his palm. She let go and he cupped her face in
his hands, pulling her mouth up to his own. His eyes, dark and
molten, peered into hers and she knew she'd never forget the way
they looked. Then he kissed her, open-mouthed and demanding. He
moaned as his tongue slid into her mouth and suddenly she wanted
him to know how _badly_ she wanted him. How much and for how
long. Her hands flew up to his face and as he continued to kiss
her, she touched him everywhere. His neck, his ears, his jaw,
his eyelids, and finally she buried her fingers into his fine,
dark hair, wrenching his mouth off of hers. Then she pushed him
back towards the edge of the bed and pushed him again. He fell
over but grabbed her hand and pulled her down onto the bed with
him. She crawled onto his belly, her eyes never leaving his
face, and finally, as she began to tug at his tie with one hand
while the other one unbuttoned his shirt, he smiled at her.
"I thought we were taking turns," he mocked.
She ignored it and went right on undressing him. She threw
the tie on the bed pillows. His shirt she opened wide, but
before she removed it, she ran her fingers over his chest,
feeling the flesh between her thumb and forefinger like a tailor
touching a fine piece of cloth. Then she moved down, perching
herself on top of his legs, and began unbuttoning his pants. His
erection, hard and hot beneath the material, hypnotized her.
Mulder, breathing hard, watched her intently until she
tugged his pants down over his hips and placed her mouth on the
exposed tip of his penis. Then his head went back and he
groaned. She kept her mouth on him, kissing and licking his
belly, his hipbones, his cock, as she gracefully shifted her body
and stripped off the rest of his clothes.
She worked her way back up, kissing and licking his skin,
biting and nipping at his nipples until they were hard. She
teased them with her tongue and rubbed her breasts all over his
chest until she placed her equally hard nipples directly on top
of his. She tossed her head back and closed her eyes, staying
that way for a few seconds, savoring the feel of him. Then her
head dropped and she looked into his face. He looked up at her,
his eyes questioning.
She smiled and asked, "Now that you're naked, may I call you
Fox?"
He laughed. An unguarded, joyous sound. A sound that she'd
never heard him emit before. It stunned her, but before she
could respond, he rolled over, placing her beneath him. He
brought his knee up, spreading her legs and opening her up to
him. An ache, a throbbing, delicious ache, spread through her.
She felt herself lose control as her body, acting on its own,
began thrusting itself against him. She wanted to beg him for
it. She wanted to scream and her heart, beating very fast, was
won.
Mulder put his face close to hers and whispered, "Say it,
then."
For a second she didn't know what he meant. But when she
stared into his eyes, she found herself in them and she knew.
"Fox," she whispered.
He kissed her roughly and slid his hands underneath her,
lifting her bottom off the bed. Then he took his mouth away and
said harshly, "Say it again, Dana."
She opened her mouth to speak and as she uttered his name,
he entered her.
It was like lightning, striking over and over again. As he
thrust in and out, she tossed her head back and forth until his
free hand grabbed her jaw and held her still. Then he kissed her
neck, sucking and biting her flesh, making his way back to her
mouth. Somehow, every time she felt herself reaching an orgasm,
he knew. He'd withdraw until just the head of his cock was still
inside of her, teasing and keeping her from coming. He grinned
at her, enjoying the taunt, meeting her challenge at last.
At first, it felt really good. Like flying all the way up
to the sky and floating all the way back down. But, after the
third or fourth time, the grin on his face began to infuriate
her. He looked so smug. So, she decided that she wanted to see
him come, to watch those eyes of his lose their ambiguous stare.
She relaxed, enjoying the feel of him, and let him do as he
wished. Her body responded and again her orgasm began to creep
over her. She let it, giving in to that delicious ache, like a
warm waterfall, cascading over her clitoris. She began to peak,
but as he started to pull away from her, she lifted her leg and
wrapped it around the back of him. Then, quickly, she reached
under herself and gently but firmly cupped his balls.
He gasped, and she began thrusting her wet vagina back and
forth on his cock. He hadn't expected her agression and the
sensation was overwhelming. He looked down at her and when their
eyes locked, Dana couldn't hold back any longer. Her orgasm
ripped through her so fiercely that she let go of him, slammed
her fists into the bed and cried out.
Somehow, she managed to keep her eyes riveted on his face,
almost daring him to lose control.
Vulnerability mixed with excruciating pleasure dominated his
features like a brazen, conquering hero. His eyes, wider than
she'd even seen them, stared down at her, emotion in them as
obvious as a parade.
His orgasm was long and when she felt him shudder inside of
her, she came again. Not as fierce but just as strong. When he
was done, he lowered himself until he was lying on top of her.
He buried his face in her hair and sighed. She ran her hands
over his torso and buttocks. He was tense. So she gently lifted
his face out of her hair and searched his eyes. They held a look
that she'd seen too many times before!
In a voice edgy and laced with disappointment, she accused,
"You're afraid."
Mulder closed his eyes for a moment. Then he looked at her
and when he spoke his voice held a note of sincerity that she'd
only heard one other time before--right after her father died.
"No, Dana, I'm in love."

THE END

Christine Ann Lamoreaux
9-13-94



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