Coming Cleaner (NC-17)

Short Author's note - When I named Coming Clean as Featured Story for July, I discovered that this story, its sequel had somehow never been posted to my page, so here it is....




When he returned with the food, she hadn’t moved.  She was still lying on the bed staring into space.  She didn’t even glance over when the door opened.


“Scully?”  He placed the food on the table and approached her.  She wouldn’t look at him.  What was he supposed to do?  He sat beside her on the bed, not at all sure he’d be welcome that close.


Well, she didn’t jerk away or kick him off the bed; she just still wouldn’t look at him.  “Scully?”


“How long have you been having this dream?


His heart sank.  He really didn’t want to get into this.  And how was he supposed to confess that he’d been having this particular dream since six months after they had lost Emily.  They?  Well . . . it wasn’t the first time he’d dreamed about Scully.  It was just the first time it had been a dream like that.  His other dreams of her had been - hotter.  Okay, yes he had erotic dreams about Dana Scully.  Had any man that had ever seen her not?  But this dream was so completely different, completely outside of his plane of reference.




That brought him back to the present.  “I . . .I don’t remember, a while.”


Now she finally looked at him.  And she obviously didn’t believe him.  Her stare was unnerving.  He sighed, only Scully could do this to him.  “Okay, since about six months after we . . . after you lost her.”


“Six . . . but that was years ago!  You . . . you . . . “ She moved away from him on the bed.


“Scully, I thought it was a one-time thing.  I didn’t want to upset you and since you never talked about . . . shit.”  He wanted to close the distance between them, but didn’t dare.

“How many,” she swallowed and looked away again, “How many times have you had it?”


“I don’t know, in the beginning maybe once every six months.”


“In the beginning?”  Her voice was shaking and he ached to hold her.


He nodded helplessly.  “Recently it’s been more frequently, a couple of times a week.”


“A week!  Why?  Why would you be dreaming about Emily?”


“I don’t know.  I haven’t analyzed it.  Maybe I didn’t want to look that deep.”


They sat in silence then.  She didn’t reach out to him so he kept still.  Her only movement was to brush the tears from her cheeks.


“What is the dream?”  She spoke so low that even as close as he sat to her he barely heard her.  He’d dreaded that question.  He savored this dream, one of the few good dreams that he had, that he remembered anyway.  “Please.”


He closed his eyes - this was going to be hard.  He stood and walked away from the bed.  He wasn’t sure he could face her while he talked about this.  On the other hand, how could he just spout this without making sure she was okay?




He dropped his head and turned back.  “It’s always the same.   Emily’s in a kitchen, our kitchen, with you.”


“Our kitchen?”


He nodded.  “The phone rings and you let her answer it.  She tells you it’s Daddy and hands you the phone.”


“Daddy?”  Was she ever going to be able to speak in complete sentences again?  He didn’t think so.


“I ask if you need anything on my way home.  Then . . . then when I get home Emily meets me at the door and I pick her up and hug her.  I tease her about calling me Daddy, then she runs off to get a present she made for me.”


He was watching Scully now.  The tears were running freely down her face, but she didn’t seem to be able to look away from him.  He took a deep breath.  “While she’s out of the room I . . . I kiss you.”  Her eyes widened slightly.  “I ask you if you’re okay and . . . and I touch your stomach because - “


“Don’t!”  He fell silent.  If she couldn’t take anymore he understood.  This dream that had caused him such joy was hurting her so badly.  Now it was ruined for him as well.  She buried her face in her hands and he moved toward her.  He couldn’t keep his distance, not any longer.


He touched her shoulder and when she didn’t pull away took her into his arms.  “A baby?”  He nodded, “Ours?”


“Yeah, Scully.”


“What was the present?”


That caught him off guard.  She’d been listening that closely.  “Uh, it was, uh a picture she’d drawn of our family - all four of us, including the ‘baby in your tummy’.  That’s when I wake up.”  He pulled her tighter against him and she accepted his comfort.


“Why?”  She spoke against his chest.  “Why would you have this dream?”


“Like I said, I never analyzed it, Scully.  I just enjoyed it.”


That caused her to pull slightly away.  “Enjoyed?”


“It was a good dream, Scully.”


“It can’t happen.”  He didn’t respond and she drew back further.  “Mulder?”


“You need to rest some.  We stopped here so you could relax.  Do you have anything you could take?”


“I don’t want - “


“Scully.  You need to turn off for a while, even if you won’t admit it.  You’re exhausted.”  She didn’t argue.  Her very soul felt tired.  He eased her down on the bed and stood.  He opened her suitcase and found some of that PM medicine.  It wouldn’t put her out, but if she could relax . . . He shook out two capsules and got her a glass of water.


“It won’t work.”


“Try it anyway Scully.”


“Will you stay here, until I fall asleep?”


“Of course I will.”


She settled more comfortably in the bed.  “You were talking about medical advances.  Do you really think about that?”


He shrugged, “Only in relation to you.  I’m beginning to see what this means to you.”


“Visiting a sperm bank . . .” She shuddered slightly and he came very close to offering her anything he had to give.  He needed to lighten this up, for both of them.


“Scully?  What would you be looking for there?  What does your perfect man look like?”  She looked up and saw the grin on his face and took in his posture.  He’d seated himself beside the bed; his feet propped up where she wasn’t long enough to reach.


He was being so extraordinarily sweet about this.  Maybe she could play a little.  She rolled to her side, not facing him.  “Oh, I don’t know, tall 6’1” or 2”.  She felt him straighten up in the chair and smiled in spite of the tears that still lingered on her face.


Okay, he was that tall, of course Jack had been as well.  Next?  “Dark hair, I think.  Brilliant, of course.”  Okay, he had the dark hair, and people had referred to him as brilliant at one time.  It was a long time ago, but he remembered it.  Had Jack been brilliant?  He didn’t know any of her other long-term relationships.


She yawned and her voice sounded a little heavier.  “Hazel eyes that change color occasionally.”  He tensed a little at that; it sounded like him a little that time, not so generic.


She was quiet so long he thought she’d gone on to sleep and he almost removed his feet from the bed.  “A mole on his right cheek.”  He froze at that, willing her to keep speaking.  “And . . . “ she yawned again, “Spooky.”


Adrenaline shot clean through him.  He was what she’d look for?  Was she pulling his leg?  He slowly removed his feet from her bed and looked closely at her.  She was asleep, probably had been for the last few words, which meant - which meant she was uninhibited, maybe.


Damn!  He wanted to shake her awake and find out.  Of course awake she might deny everything.


Well, she was asleep and peaceful.  He should take the food and go on to his room.  Except - well she might have nightmares or need him during the night.  He could hang around a little longer, eat here and make sure she was sound asleep before he left.  Yeah, that was a good idea.




When she woke the next morning she could hear his even breathing coming from the side of the bed.  Mulder?  She turned and spotted him, still in the chair he had been sitting in when she fell asleep, his feet still on the bed, though he’d changed, wearing his robe now.  His breathing was a relaxing sound.  He was going to be stiff as a board, sleeping like that all night.  The thought made her wish he’d joined her and she pushed that away.  Inappropriate, they were partners.


What had they been talking about when she faded out?  Oh yeah, her choice at a sperm bank.  Inappropriate as well, but what the hell.  What had she said?  She remembered height and hair color, but after that she must have drifted off.


She lay there watching him sleep.  Him.  He’s what she’d look for, given the choice.  But the male half of the equation wasn’t really the problem in this case, was it?  She was the one who couldn’t have children.  He was probably brimming over with sperm, but it wouldn’t matter. They’d taken this from her, given her cancer in its place.  Mulder had found a way to cure that; too bad he couldn’t cure infertility.  Too bad he hadn’t ever wanted to try. 


Or did he?  He was having that kind of dream about her?  A dream where they were together, together even more deeply than they were now.  Where they had created a child together, where he had cured her.  Had Emily led them to this?


She shook herself; she’d already revealed too much last night.  If he thought she was after him, he’d probably go to Skinner and ask for a new partner.  Maybe charge her with sexual harassment.  She actually smiled at that.


That was the sight he woke up to - Scully, lying in bed, looking at him and smiling. It caused his chest to tighten; he wanted this woman more than any woman he could remember.  And she had described him last night - the mole on the cheek, the hazel eyes, ‘spooky’.


“Scully.”  His voice sounded deep, husky even, and caused a shiver to run up her spine.  She’d never heard him say her name quite like that before.  She looked up to see him staring at her; his eyes had never been quite that dark before.


She realized that she had become moist just from the proximity of him.  Waking to find him in her room was . . . was exhilarating and he seemed to be having some of the same feelings.  She saw that he was moving toward her now and she felt her nipples peak.  What was wrong with her, she couldn’t let him see this reaction to him, could she?


“Scully.”  He was looming over her now.  Was he awake?  There was no way he could miss her reaction to him if he was.  His finger caressed her cheek and her eyes closed in order to savor the sensation.  She was shivering slightly now, she wanted his hands elsewhere, everywhere.


When she didn’t pull away, it emboldened him to move closer.  His own body was reacting to hers fully.  He could smell her readiness and he felt almost drunk with it.  He allowed himself to move under the covers with her.  He moved cautiously, giving her time to stop him, push him away, but it didn’t happen.  She was accepting his presence in her bed, in her arms now as she reached for him.


This was no dream; he could feel her body against his now.  His hand cupped her breast as his lips explored her throat.  Still no protest from her, “Scully, you can stop this.”  The shake of her head was almost imperceptible.


She began lifting her t-shirt, but he took over the honor holding her hands over her head in one of his.  Once the t-shirt rested on the floor his lips took over the exploration of those places she had kept secret from him all these years.


He wasn’t sure what she wanted, slow and tender?  He wasn’t sure he was capable of that any longer, but he didn’t want to scare her.


She was moving beneath him, hardly playing fair.  He was more than ready, poised to enter heaven.  She arched to take him inside of her and he had to draw a breath, feeling her nails in his ass to deepen the penetration.  He felt her teeth sink into his chest, so it was like that was it?  She met each of his thrusts, teeth and nails in play - a wild woman.  Suddenly she was convulsing in his arms, and his own control left him as he held her close.


He managed to turn pulling her onto his chest as he collapsed.  They lay entwined both attempting to regain their breath.  “Scully, are you okay?”


She nodded, settling against his chest, listening to his heart thud in his chest.


He came back to himself as he felt her rise from him and reached for her.  “I’m not going anywhere.”  She was on her knees above him, nipping his breasts, her tongue burning ribbons along his ribs.  His body was responding rapidly.  She seated herself on his thighs and they locked eyes.  Not looking away from him she rose on her knees and impaled herself on him.


She couldn’t literally interpret the sound that he made but she smiled at the knowledge that she had caused it.  She rode him, deeper and ever deeper, her movement becoming more erratic.  His hands found her waist and supported her, pressing her down as he came again, which sent her over the edge.  She tried to support herself, her hands upon his chest but collapsed against him.


He held her shuddering body until she slept again, gently pulling the sheet up over them.


He woke as she rose from his body and reached for her.  “I need a shower Mulder, if I can stand.”


He grinned lazily at her; “Need someone to wash your back?”


“Know anybody who might be willing?”  She looked down at him, taking in his body yet again and obviously appreciating what she saw.


“Yeah.  I can think of someone.”  Who was this woman?  His Scully had never shown this kind of abandon with him.  It couldn’t be because of a dream he had kept from her.  And she couldn’t have been awake enough to remember what she said, could she?


The shower was the most erotic he had ever had.  Following the morning activities he had expected a lengthy reload time, but having this woman’s skin against his, having her rub her hands all over his body.  He wanted, hell no, he needed her again already.  Her legs around his waist confirmed that for the rest of his body.


They made it back to the bed for another short nap, and she woke to his tongue laving her nipples.  


“Mulder, no, I can’t.”  She was nearly whimpering.  He pulled her atop him and she lay bonelessly on his chest, utterly content and sated.  He was nuzzling her hair, his hands continuing the exploration on their own.




“Um?”  She couldn’t even raise her head; this felt too good, too right.


“What happened here?  Don’t think I’m complaining, but wasn’t this a little . . . sudden?”


“Was it?  Or was it finally the right time?”  She pressed her lips against his chest.


“Both.  I guess I just need to know what made it the right time for you.”


“I guess I . . . I feel like we were given permission.  If Emily is coming to you and wants us to be together . . . maybe she’s right.”


He had no response to that.  Had Emily, her daughter, given them this?  Was that why the dream had starting coming so often, because he hadn’t been paying attention?  It didn’t matter, only this did - and keeping it right for her, for them.