Conduit Denouement (NC-17)


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-  I want to believe  -

 

 

The knock surprised him and he moved in that direction.  “Scully? C-come in.”  He moved aside to let her enter.  “Is everything okay?”

 

“I should have called, but I wanted to return these tapes to you.”

 

“You didn't need to make a special trip.  I pretty much have them memorized.”  He said ruefully.

 

“I also wanted to make sure you were okay.”  She admitted.

 

He looked away then, not sure how to take that comment.  He still had moments when he was certain she was just a spy, but . . .

 

“You, uh, you want something to drink?  I have, uh, tea.”

 

She smiled then.  “Tea would be fine.  Thank you.”  She wandered into the living room as he turned into the small kitchen.  When he rejoined her carrying two glasses of ice tea, he glanced down at the couch.

 

“Sorry.”  He found a space on the coffee table for the glasses, then gathered up the papers and files that were spread on the couch and the floor in front of it.  “I don’t get much company.”  He folded the afghan, a Native American design and tossed it over the back.

 

“How can you be sure?  They could be hiding under there.”  She grinned at him.

 

He mock glared at her, but motioned for her to take a seat on the now uncovered couch.

 

She settled on the couch and took a sip from her glass of tea.  Her look of surprise caught his attention.  “Oh, it’s sweet tea.  Should’ve warned you.  My mother was raised in Raleigh.  They make it that way down there.”

 

“It’s good, not too sweet.”  She nodded.

 

“Yeah, I toned it down.  Growing up it was almost syrup.”  He took another sip.  “Have you eaten?”

 

“Wha - uh, no.  I just came from the office.”

 

“I was going to order in.  Would you like to . . . “

 

She blinked, “Thank you, yes.  That would be nice.”

 

He grinned shyly then and reached beside the couch.  He came up with a handful of takeout menus.  “What would you like?”

 

She laughed then, “All of those?”

 

He shrugged, “There’s usually just me, and I’m a lousy cook.”

 

She took a couple of the menus from him, and glanced at them.  “Do you have any favorites?”

 

“All of them.”  He grinned.  “I figure you for vegetables, how about Chinese?”

 

Her eyebrow went up for an instant.  “Sure.”  She looked over that menu and made her selection.  He called the restaurant’s number from memory, which for some reason made her sad.

 

“They won’t be long.  I’m a regular.  I’ll get you some more tea.”

 

“Could I wash up?”  She stood when he did.

 

“Sure, it’s through there.  It’s, uh, probably a mess.”

 

“S’okay.  I have two brothers.”

 

“Good.  I’d hate to think I was the only slob you know.”

 

She rolled her eyes, and headed for his bathroom.  It actually wasn’t as bad as she’d anticipated.  The seat was up, there were socks on the floor and the towel was lying on the sink, but all in all not too bad.

 

He was waiting for her with a sheepish look.  “Well?”

 

“Ahab would have your hide, but I’ve seen worse.”

 

“Ahab?”

 

“My father.  Career Navy.”

 

Mulder grimaced, “Don’t think I could have made it in your house.”

 

“You know, I think you’re right.  There was a lot of structure, rules.”

 

"The polar opposite from me.  Dad was gone a lot even before the divorce.  What little structure Mom and I had came from me.  She . . . slept a lot, but she had to feed me, make sure I got to school, until I could drive.   Fortunately I was self-motivating."

 

She absorbed that information.  So there had been a divorce.  He'd said Samantha's abduction had 'torn the family apart', but his father had actually left them.  "Slept a lot?"

 

He shrugged, "I know now it was classic depression, but she took some stuff as well."

 

He didn't elaborate.  She filled in the blanks for herself.  Basically he'd raised himself.  So how had he become the compassionate, caring man he was?  She'd seen him with Kevin; that wasn't bedside manner.  You couldn't learn that, you had to feel it. 

 

She wasn't sure what to say, he didn't seem to be able to think of a topic either.  They were saved by a knock on the door.

 

"Dinner's served."  He rose and moved in the direction of the door, returning quickly with a brown paper bag.

 

"That was quick."

 

He nodded, "Pretty good too.  I'll dish this up."

 

"May I help?"  She rose as well, smiling.

 

That seemed to relax him slightly.  "Sure.  Let's see if I have two matching plates."


She chuckled and followed him.

 

*****

 

The food was good, surprisingly so and she complimented him on his choice of restaurants.

 

"Lot's of practice."  He smiled.  It faded as he realized how that sounded and that there was no further reason for her to stay.

 

They both went quiet then, not knowing what to say.  Finally he glanced over at her and quickly away.  “Did you listen to it?”

 

“Yes.”  She knew immediately he was referring to the tapes.

 

“No opinion?”

 

“He didn’t seem to lead you.  And I knew you believed what you were saying.”

 

He nodded, “But you don’t believe it.”

 

“Mulder, I . . . I kept thinking about Kevin.”

 

“What about him?”

 

“How all of this could affect him, for years to come.”

 

“At least he got his sister back.” 

 

His tone pulled at her.  There was a hopeless quality she hadn’t heard since that night in Bellfleur.  Even after all these years he was still consumed with guilt at not protecting his little sister.

 

Without thinking, she leaned toward him and brushed her lips across his.  He froze and she pulled back, embarrassed.  "Mulder, I'm sorry, I - "

 

His lips met hers then, blocking her apology.  Damn the man knew how to kiss.  When she drew back to get her breath, she found that they had reclined, with her on top of him.  She felt his hand at her waist and realized that her blouse had come loose from her slacks.

 

What had she done?  She should pull away, sit up, but found that she didn't want to move.  She had to look up, face him.  She could already see the grin; hear the innuendo that he would toss.  She took a steadying breath and tilted her head to see him.  Instead of the self-assured smirk, she was stunned to see the fear and the . . . the longing on his face.

 

"Scully?"  She felt his hand tremble against her skin.

 

She reached up and caressed his cheek.  Without conscious thought, she pressed herself against his growing erection.  His eyes widened.

 

"You're impressing me with more than your mind, Mulder."

 

His cheeks flushed as he took in that statement.  She lightly ground herself into him and he bucked against her.

 

"What . . . what are we doing here?"  His voice was raspy and low.  Just the sound sent shivers south to her core.

 

"I hope I'm going to make love with the most intriguing man I ever remember meeting."

 

"In . . . intriguing?"  He seemed to be having problems speaking.

 

She nodded.  This was her doing.  When she had run to him in Oregon, dropping her robe and her dignity, he had been a perfect gentleman.  He had kept his distance and almost as a repayment for her trust, had offered some of his own.  She'd known at the time that Samantha wasn't something he discussed easily.  She had a better idea of just how alone he was now.

 

Nearly as much as her.

 

She had two choices, end this right now and go home.  She was confident it would never be mentioned again.  And she would always wonder what would have been.  Somehow she knew he wouldn't allow her a second chance to get this close.

 

Or she could go for it.  Be with the man.  They were adults; if it didn't work out they could look back and . . .

 

“Sc-Scully?”

 

He cared for her, she knew that.  He had broken down her door when he suspected that Tooms had focused on her.  He’d saved her life.  He’d tried to be cool about it, but she could see how shaken he was at how close it had been.

 

She sat up then and he tried to hide his disappointment.  His eyes widened when she settled on his abdomen and began unbuttoning her blouse.  “Breathe, Mulder.”  She said softly.

 

He did then, taking a deep breath.  She smiled and rose up enough to pull his t-shirt from his jeans.  She pulled it up, exposing his chest and smiling at the muscles as she ran her hands over them.  He had just the right sprinkling of chest hair.  She admired the way it thickened and darkened as it flowed down below his navel.

 

With a start she realized he was going commando under those low slung jeans.  Her smile grew.  She slid down his body, pressing against his erection and she unbuttoned his jeans.

 

He was breathing, but it was shallow.  His eyes were locked on her, not stopping her, still not quite believing this was happening.

 

He heard her sharply indrawn breath.  He wanted to speak, but didn’t know what to say.

 

She rose to her feet then, her eyes glued on his manhood.  He clenched his fists to keep from reaching for her.  After a long moment she met his eyes.  Her hands unbuttoned her slacks, then slid the zipper down.  She saw his Adam’s apple bob as she lowered her pants to the floor.  Eyes still locked on each other, she lowered the bikini panties that barely covered the red thatch at the apex of her thighs.

 

He was sitting up, though he didn’t remember the movement.  He had to see her, all of her.  His hands rested on her waist for an instant then moved up to remove her blouse.  He rose then, looking down at her.  His hands cupped her breasts through the lace.  Then he slipped the straps from her shoulders, and reached around her to unfasten her bra.

 

It fell to her feet along with her underwear.  He nuzzled her throat while his hands explored the soft, smooth skin of her back.  “Are you sure?”

 

“Yes, Mulder.  Very sure.”  She shoved his jeans toward the floor, and heard the hiss as her hand curled around him.  His hands moved to her breasts again when he had some control.  She squeezed him slightly and he tweaked her nipple.  He relaxed slightly at the smile that induced until her other hand cupped his balls.

 

"God, Sc . . . Scully, I - "

 

Her lips kissed away his protest and she shoved him lightly back toward his couch.   He was in no condition to refuse.  He sprawled across the leather and she resumed her place atop him.  Her teeth worked at his nipples, alternating with sucking, that was causing a major road block in his veins as blood raced south, to find it wasn't needed.

 

Damn, he didn't remember being this hard since he was a kid.  "Scully - "  God, he should call her Dana.  Before he could switch she leaned closer and the thought was gone.

 

"Where's your bedroom?"  She whispered in his ear as she suckled on his lobe.

 

"I . . . I don't . . . I sleep here."  He managed to get out, as his hands spanned her waist.  He saw her eyebrow rise, but she didn't slow down, just raised her hips to play with the tip of his cock, which was questing for her body.

 

He let one of his hands move across her body, down to her sex.  His eyes widened at the wetness he encountered there.  She wanted . . . him?

 

"Mulder, please."

 

He nodded, or tried to, most parts of his body seemed disconnected from him.  Only the parts that were touching her seemed real.  She lowered herself onto him slowly and he savored the sensation even as he craved to thrust up into her.  It had been so damn long.  Her eyes never left his face as she took him inside herself.  He was still stunned at this turn of events.  She knew that this couch hadn’t seen action in some time.

 

She rose and lowered herself again, able to take more of him into her.  The third time and he was completely sheathed in her body.

 

She met his eyes then and smiled.  “Yes, much more than your mind.”  She said softly.

 

He smiled then and his hands tightened around her waist.  They moved together then, finding a rhythm that worked for both of them.  He looked down to watch himself slide in and out of her - damn it felt good.  He shifted slightly to increase contact and felt her breath catch.  Then without warning, her muscles convulsed around him.  He clamped down on control, letting her ride her orgasm out.

 

Her hands rested on his chest, supporting herself as she brought her breathing under control.  That hadn’t happened since . . . well, a long time.  Hell, she was still quivering.

 

She opened her eyes to find him watching her, a hint of concern in his eyes.  “Damn Mulder.”

 

He grinned then, not speaking.

 

She looked deeply into his eyes and began to move atop him again.  His smile slipped away as he let himself go with the feel of her around him, hot, wet, tight, Scully.  His hands tightened, he didn’t want to bruise her fair skin, but . . . coherent thought was in the past now as he slammed her into him over and over; then god he was coming - from his toes it felt like.

 

“Scully!” His cry was music to her ears as he let himself go within her.  He didn’t even realize that she had come again herself as he pulled her down to his chest, holding her fiercely.

 

It was a long moment before either of them moved.

 

She recovered first and rose from his body, regret in her eyes at the emptiness that left inside her.  He whimpered and reached for her.

 

“Shh.  Just a minute.”  She let herself into his bathroom.  He hadn’t the strength to go after her.  She emerged moments later, still nude, with a hot washcloth and to his astonishment began cleaning him up.

 

“Scully, you - “

 

“Shh.”  She continued, carefully, ending with a kiss to the tip of his penis.

 

He stared at her wordless.  Finally she leaned over and picked up his t-shirt, he started to reach for it, but she slipped it over her own head.  “Scoot over.  I need a nap before I leave.”

 

“Don’t leave.”  He said quietly.

 

She smiled and cuddled in against him.

 

 

When he woke he was alone.  The only sign that she had been there was the afghan over his nude body and his clothing folded neatly on the chair.

 

She hadn’t felt like Mata Hari in his arms, though what kind of judge was he?  But she hadn’t betrayed him yet - had she?  He’d have to keep his eyes open.

 

 

XXX

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Mulder, Scully, the Lone Gunman and Skinner all belong to Chris Carter, 10-13 and Fox. No infringement intended.