No Worries (NC-17)


She woke peacefully, gradually becoming aware that the weight on the right side of her body was another person.  She moved her head carefully so as not to disturb him.  His head was resting on her breast; his thick dark hair was beautiful.


She realized she was nude, as was he.  His hand rested on her abdomen and his legs were entwined around her right leg, his cock lying thick and heavy on her thigh.


Part of her tried to wonder who he was and how he had gotten here, but she was too peaceful to care.  She let her hand come up to touch his hair softly and he began to stir.  His stretch pulling her tighter against him.


He turned to look at her and she saw his face.  His eyes were so deep, so beautiful.  Even as she watched, they seemed to turn from brown to green and smile at her.  Her eyes moved down to his lips and stopped.  My god, what beautiful lips.  The lower one looked as though it had been created for suckling.  Without conscious thought, her finger was outlining it gently.


His smile widened, the touch of her finger against his lip had gone straight to his cock.  Did he know her?  He was certainly comfortable here in her arms.  He couldn’t remember ever being with a redhead before.  Her eyes were the clearest blue - he could gaze into them forever.


She seemed to know what he was thinking and her smile answered his own.


“Do I know you?”  He asked, and his low, sexy voice sent a shiver through her.


“I was wondering the same thing.”  She smiled.  “And I was wondering where we are and how we got here.”


He looked around the room then, dragging his eyes from her.  It was a bedroom, not a motel room.  They were in a dark mahogany four-poster bed.  There was a dresser and chest and over by the window were two easy chairs with a small table between them.  There were crystal lamps on either bedside table and drapes with a dark green pattern on the windows.


The sheets they were on were soft and expensive feeling, though mostly tangled at their feet.  The door to a bath was slightly open, but the other door, maybe to a hall, was closed.


He was mildly surprised that he took in that much information, he didn’t care.  He looked back at her; “I don’t recognize it.  What’s your name?”


“I don’t know.”  She smiled at him.  “What’s yours?”


He hesitated, then “I don’t have a clue.  Isn’t that strange.”


She nodded and sighed. 


“You know we should be worried about this.”  He commented.


“I think we’ve been drugged.”  She responded as though it were the most natural thing in the world and of no concern.


His hand had begun caressing her, moving up toward her breasts and his lips closed over her nipple.  She purred at the sensation and his anatomy, which had already been at semi-alert, moved to full alert and she reached for him.  He caught his breath at her grip, then allowed his fingers to explore her.  She wanted him as well. 


He glanced at her and at her smiling nod, slipped inside of her.  She fit like a glove.  It was like being inside of her had completed some kind of circuit and he was no longer a single entity, but whole and . . . and complete.  From the look in her eyes, she felt it too.  Whoever they were, this was where they belonged.


His strokes were long and smooth; the feel of her around him as intoxicating as it was familiar.  He felt her body tense in anticipation of her orgasm, and let his fingers finish her off, watching her face as she came in his arms.  Then he held her as she shuddered back to herself.


“You good?”  He asked softly.


She nodded, “Very good.”  She moved beneath him and his need for release reached new heights.  He thrust into her harder, faster, it didn’t take long - she was too hot and tight.   When he collapsed atop her, he rolled to one side pulling her to his chest.


After a few moments she leaned up on one elbow, “You know, we should probably figure out what’s going on.”  She said finally as she watched him.


“You mean leave the bed?”


She chuckled, “We have to eventually.”


The puppy dog look caused her to laugh out loud.  “I guess I could use a shower, wanna share?”


She didn’t speak but her look of pleasure spoke volumes.  He headed for the bath first, returning shortly with a warm cloth.  “Um, what’s that?”  He didn’t speak, washing her gently as she purred.


“Come on, the shower should be hot now.  It’s a double.”  He waggled his eyebrows at her, then held out his hand and helped her to her feet.  He soaped her back, massaging it as he went, then pulling her soapy back against his chest began soaping her breasts.  Her head dropped back against him.  Her hand trailed down his thigh and he grew again as her hand encompassed him.


“Again?”  She asked amused.


“Got a problem with that?”


She shook her head, her eyes gleaming.  He sat on the seat in the shower and pulled her into his lap.  She seemed to appreciate his tribute to her.  Without warning he lifted her and impaled her.  She gasped, then began moving in his lap.  He leaned back against the tile and watched her, appreciating the rise and fall of her breasts, the feel of her around him.  His hands moved to encircle her waist increasing her pace.  She came again almost immediately.  He’d have to remember this position.


The water was growing cool when they finally emerged, both sated and relaxed.  He eyed the bed, but she shook her head and moved toward the closet.  The clothing in there fit, so they dressed with him picking out her outfit.  He chose the lowest neckline he could find and she indulged him.


Then she turned toward the door to the hall.  “Do you suppose this is our house?”


He opened the door and looked out.  “I don’t know; think we can afford a place like this?”


“Depends on what we do for a living.”  She led him into the hall.


“I hope we have some food.”  He followed her down the stairs into a nice size foyer with hard wood floors.  She saw a dining room to her right so she headed that way.  The kitchen was beyond that.  It was a large, airy room with modern appliances.


He looked around; “We must do pretty well.”


“If it’s ours.”


He nodded, “I guess we should be trying to find out what’s going on.”


“Why are we so calm about this?  I mean, we don’t even know each other’s names and we’ve made love twice.”


“I thought we were pretty good at it.”


“Oh, I’m not complaining.  I just wonder if that isn’t . . . You know we didn’t even think about safe sex.”


He looked up quickly, “Surely that’s not a problem?  Do you think you’re on the pill?”


She shrugged, “I just wish I knew why we’re so calm about everything.”  She opened the refrigerator.  It was full, so together they fixed a lunch.


“You know,” he took a bite of his sandwich, “we don’t even know what day of the week it is.”


She gave a slight frown, the first he’d seen.  “Did you see a watch anywhere?  We don’t even know what time it is.”


“There’s a TV in the great room.”  It seemed more important to know suddenly.  Maybe the food, or time, was decreasing the effects of whatever drug they were on.


They rose together, the food forgotten and made their way into the great room.  He spotted the remote and turned on the large screen TV.  If this was their place, he hoped his job paid well.  For some reason this place was beginning to feel a little artificial.


“Okay,” she finally spoke, “It’s a Thursday, but neither of us is at work, and we still don’t know our names.”  She shivered and he moved closer to her.


“Are you okay?”


“I think it’s wearing off.  I’m beginning to care about where I am and . . . and who we are to each other.”


“You don’t think we’re married?”


“Neither of us is wearing a ring.  Maybe you wouldn’t, but a woman usually does.  There has to be some ID around here.”


He saw her agitation was beginning to grow, and realized he was less calm himself than he had been when they came downstairs.  “Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but I do know I care about you.  This, this episode obviously wasn’t a first for us.  We’re too good together; we know each other, what the other likes.  You do realize that?”


She seemed to relax a little, that was true.  Having him in her arms, inside of her had been right.  “Thank you.  You’re right, it’s just . . . strange.”


“I can’t dispute that.  Let’s finish eating, then explore the place.  We still don’t know what city we’re in.”


She nodded and let him take her hand to lead her back to the kitchen.  They ate in silence, the relaxation they had felt upon waking gone now.  He mentally reassured himself as he had her; there was no way they were strangers to each other.  They had to be married, or at least long-time lovers.  He was too comfortable, too sure of where he stood in her heart.


When they finished eating, they cleaned up together, still silent but he was beginning to worry about that.  “You know I won’t hurt you, don’t you?”


“I don’t think it’s you I’m concerned about.  I want to know who brought us here and why we can’t remember.”


He nodded, “Don’t worry, Sc . . .” Their eyes locked.


“What were you going to call me?”


“Sc . . . Scully?  That’s not a woman’s name.”  It wasn’t, but it felt right on his tongue.




“Does it feel familiar?”


After a moment she nodded.  “It does.”


“A pet name?”


“I’d like to hear the story behind it if it is.”  She managed to smile slightly.  “At least we really do seem to know each other.”


“I was already pretty sure.”  He gave her an obvious once over and saw the color rise in her cheeks.


“What do we do now?”


“Well, we seem to be remembering.  I think we’re going to have to wait for a little while, until the rest of the drugs wear off.”


“And in the meantime?”  She caught his glance at the stairs leading to their bedroom.  She rolled her eyes at him.  “Not yet, I can barely walk now.”


“You’re okay?”


She nodded, “But you’re not exactly a small man.”


“Not around you I’m not.”  He responded with a grin.


“Give me a little time here, okay Mu - “


“You know my name now?”


“Mulder?  Does that sound right?”


“Mulder and Scully?  What kind of names are those?”


She shrugged, “I don’t know, but I’m beginning to feel really antsy.”  She looked down at her hands, which were beginning to shake. 


He took hold of them, “Whoever we are, we’re together.”


She nodded and managed a small smile.


“Come in here, let’s just sit.”  He led her back to the great room and sat on the couch, pulling her against him and putting his arms around her.  “Want to go over what we do know?”




“Okay, its Thursday, almost lunch time.  According to the weather channel we’re somewhere near Charleston, West Virginia.  We seem to be intelligent, probably educated and if this is our house, well to do.”


“Does this feel like our house?”


He thought for a moment, “No, not since we came downstairs.  I did enjoy the bedroom, though.”


“I could tell.”  She responded dryly.


“I didn’t exactly hear you complaining?”




“Scully, we have to know each other.  What happened between us, we can’t be strangers.”


“No, I know that.  But I’m beginning to think we’re not married.”


“So, will you marry me?”


That startled a laugh out of her.


“Is that a yes?”


“I think maybe we ought to wait until we find out if we’re already married to someone else.”


That thought obviously had not crossed his mind and she was stunned by the look of, of horror on his face.


“Mulder, relax.  I’m not even close to remembering anyone else.  Besides, I was upstairs too you know.”


The muscles in his arms lost some of their tension, but this new idea had truly disturbed him.  For some reason that made her feel better about things.  She wanted to smooth the furrows in his brow, but if she touched him, would she be able to stop herself from what her body already wanted again.


“Who’s Skinner?”  He asked suddenly.


“Skinner?”  She thought for a minute.  The name did sound familiar.


He was watching her closely and knew the feeling creeping in on him was jealousy.  When her eyes lightened with memory, his chest became tight.


“He’s my, our friend and . . . and boss.”


“Boss?”  He tried to make his voice even.


“Yes.”  She looked at him, “Don’t be jealous.  I think we work together.  I think . . . I think we’re partners.”


“Partners?”  The word was strange.  “You think we’re cops or something?”  Not in this house they weren’t, unless they were on the take.


“Police doesn’t sound right.”  They both thought about it for a moment.  “FBI?  Mulder, I think we’re FBI.”


“The Bureau?”  But it felt right.  He nodded, “Scully, I . . . Scully?”


She grimaced and her hand massaged her forehead.  He had reached for her when an unbearable pain stabbed through his own head, blinding him.  He grabbed his head with both hands groaning.  He heard her calling his name, but it was too far away, beyond the pain, and it was getting black.




He was groggy, but he could hear someone calling him.  Scully.  She sounded scared, he needed to get to her.  He managed to open his eyes.  The pain, there had been pain.  It was gone now, leaving weakness in its path.  Scully was bending over him as he lay on the couch.  Her eyes were nearly panicked and she was pale.  “Scully?”  It sounded more like a croak, but she seemed to breathe again and then to his utter shock, burst into tears.


He tried to rise, but her hand on his shoulder kept him down on the couch.  He watched her force herself into doctor mode, “Track my finger.”  He did.  “How many fingers am I holding up?”


“Three, Scully, I’m okay.”


She swallowed before she could answer.  “Just lie still for a little while.”


“Are you okay?”


“I was a little frightened.”  It was an obvious understatement.


“No, I mean you were in pain too.”


“Oh that, it’s nothing.  When . . . when the memories returned I got a little headache, but you . . . God, Mulder it was like an explosion.  I’ve never seen you in that kind of pain, even when Dr. Goldstein experimented on you it wasn’t like that.”


He saw her hands were shaking and he took hold of them.  “I’m okay.”


She shook her head, but didn’t respond.


“You know who we are.”


“Sure do.”  She tried to smile.


“What’s the last thing you remember?”


“Leaving work on Tuesday.”


After a moment he nodded, “Yeah.  You had already left for the day.  I was researching that symbol.  I finally gave up, got hungry.  I remember being in the garage, but I don’t remember getting to my car.”


They were silent then for a little while.


“Scully, I do remember what happened upstai - “


“Mulder, I want to go home.”  She interrupted immediately.  “I’ll go see if we have a car.”


He watched her leave, depression growing with each step that took her farther away from him.  Yeah, she remembered and it was a memory she didn’t want.


He closed his eyes - that was a mistake, all he could see was her nude in the bed, in the shower, loving him, letting him love her.  It had been everything he’d imagined and more.  He didn’t know who had brought them here or why.  With her attitude, the memory was all he was ever going to have.


Despair held him motionless until she returned.


“We have a car.  The keys were in it, and these.”  She held up their ids, wallets, personal keys and phones.  “No guns.”


He forced himself to sit up.  She reached to help him instinctively, then realized and dropped her hand.  He managed to keep his face impassive, hide the pain her movement caused.  It wasn’t a physical pain anyway.


“Do you need anything from, from upstairs?”


“No.  Let’s get out of here.”  She obviously didn’t want to return to the scene of their ‘crime’.  He forced himself to his feet.  She followed him silently. 


She didn’t speak until he started for the driver’s side.  “No Mulder, you were unconscious.  I’ll drive.”


He looked at her, then nodded and moved around the car rather than argue.


She watched him, but she couldn’t think of anything to say.  They drove in silence as he forced himself not to look over at her.  Instead he watched out the side window.  A couple of times she opened her mouth to speak, but decided against it.


After about an hour, she did turn to him.  “Are you hungry?”




“Mulder, you should probably eat something.”


“I don’t have any appetite, Scully.  If you’re hungry go ahead and get something.”


“No, I’m . . . I’m fine.”


Part of him wanted to laugh at that, but he held his peace.


It was the longest six hours of his life.  Night was in full command when they reached DC.  She insisted on driving him home, but he wouldn’t allow her to come inside.


“Mulder, wait.”  She stopped him as he exited the car.  “I don’t think you should come in tomorrow.”


He shrugged, “I’ll see how I feel.”  A noncommittal answer, but right now he wasn’t even committed to putting one foot in front of the other.  Rather than look at her any more, he turned and headed toward his building without another word.


She sat there until he disappeared inside, then closed her eyes.  When she opened them, she put the car back in gear and turned toward home.




He tried the knob on the office door, locked.  Scully wasn’t here yet.  He pulled his keys out and let himself in.  She’d advised him to stay home, but he really didn’t care where he was, so he might as well come in.


He hadn’t even made it to his chair when the phone rang.  He stared at it for a moment, then picked it up.  “Mulder.”


“My office, now.”  Kersh’s voice was angry and the connection broke immediately.


Mulder sighed, glanced at his coffee cup, then turned and headed back for the elevators.


Kersh’s secretary gave him the once over as he appeared in the door.  Kersh was standing at her desk, reading.  He looked up and placed the paper back on her desk.  “Hold my calls.”  He opened the office door and allowed Mulder to precede him, as though making certain he actually went inside.  He closed the door firmly behind them then took a seat.  He didn’t offer one to Mulder, so the younger man stood there waiting.


“Would you like to explain where you’ve been since Tuesday?”


“I, uh, I’m not sure I can.”


“That’s not good enough Agent Mulder.  I believe this office has given you considerable slack with regards to the quality of work.  You don’t report to Skinner anymore, Mulder.  You’re in my area now.  There are no unauthorized trips, no vanishing during the workweek.  What, were you on an ‘X-File’?”  He made it sound like some sort of profanity.


Mulder looked him square in the eye.  “I don’t have all the facts yet.”


“Whatever it is, I want you to drop it.  You will handle the assignments I give you, not go off on your own.  Do you have any questions?”


“No sir.”


“I assume Agent Scully will be back on Monday?”


“She’s not - ?”  Then he stopped.  He wasn’t going to ask Kersh.


“Agent Scully called in and requested a personal day.  You two haven’t talked?”  His eyes narrowed.


“No sir.”


“Mulder, you will be at your desk every day unless I send you on an assignment.  I’m watching you.  Dismissed.”  Kersh turned away and picked up the phone.


Mulder didn’t hesitate, leaving the office immediately.  He didn’t even glance at Kersh’s secretary, just headed for the elevator.


Once in his own office, he sank into the chair.  His desire for coffee was gone.  He wanted to call her, check on her, but he couldn’t.  After several deep breaths, he turned back to the symbol he was trying to research, but he didn’t care anymore.




At exactly 5 p.m. he rose, slipping on his suit coat and headed out, locking the office behind him.  He didn’t bother to make conversation and the people who passed him, gave old Spooky a wide berth.  He was obviously not in a talkative mood.


He started his car and pulled out.  He’d gone a couple of blocks before he let himself realize he was headed to Scully’s place.  Probably a bad idea, but the only one he had.  He had to know if she was okay.


He tapped on her door, not at all sure she’d answer, but he had to try.  After a long moment, in which he knew she checked the peephole, the door opened.


“Scully, may I come in?”


She didn’t speak, or look him in the face, but stepped aside to let him enter her apartment.


“I, uh” he shrugged, “I couldn’t stay away.  Are you okay?”


“I don’t know.”


“You didn’t come to work.”


“I thought you were going to stay home today too.”


“Couldn’t.  The apartment was too . . . “ He shrugged.  She turned from him and without thought his hand shot out to take hold of her arm.  She looked up startled and he immediately released her.


“I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to scare you.  Scully, I never meant to scare you.  What . . . what happened, I would never hurt you.  I can’t stand for you to be afraid of me.”


“I’m not afraid of you.”  She wouldn’t face him, “Damn it, I’m not afraid of you, I’m afraid of me.”


She moved away from him then as he stood speechless just inside of her apartment.  She sank onto the couch, looking as miserable as he felt.  After a minute he followed her to the couch, taking a seat at the opposite end.


“I don’t under - “


“Damn it, Mulder.”  She sounded defeated, “I have spent years fighting the pull of you - now . . . now I can’t.  They took that ability from me too.  Don’t you see?”


“No.  No I don’t see.  Scully, fighting the pull of me?  What -  “


“I can’t give in to you.  I can’t be controlled by you.”


“I’m not trying to control you, I’ve never . . . I just want to be with you.”


“But you do.  You’re my waking thought every morning, you control my time off, hell, my wardrobe.  I - “


“Scully?  How?  I haven’t - “

“I don’t see my friends any more, I don’t date.  I’m on call for you.  I could handle it when I kept it professional, but now -  “


“On call for me?  Is that . . . do you really feel that way?”


“I’m the Ice Queen, Mulder.  Just like you’re Spooky.  It’s my protection.  If I don’t keep you at arm’s length, I’ll lose myself in you completely.”


“And that’s a bad thing?”


“I don’t know how to feel.  We were used, experimented on, probably video taped . . . “


He sighed, she was right.


“But the way we . . . we reacted to each other, under the influence of whatever drug it was . . . did they cause that?”


“No.”  He spoke immediately, “the way we were with each other, no drug could have done that.  Scully, it was right and it was good.  Maybe the drug was just to get us to release our inhibitions.”


She looked damned doubtful about that.  “A set up like that house, just so we would . . . “


“Finally get together?”


She gave a small feminine snort, but she didn’t look angry.  That was a good sign, wasn’t it?


“Do you, Scully do you want things to . . . do you want me to forget what happened?”


“Can you?”


He shook his head.  “No.  It’s never been like that for me.  You’re not the only one who’s been resisting that pull for years.  I want you.”  He stated it simply, but she heard the truth in his voice.  “I want you.  And just for the record, you’re my waking thought too - sometimes a little earlier than that.”


She blushed as she realized what he was saying.


“So what do we do, Mulder?”


He shook his head, “You know what I want.  The decision is yours.  I don’t have a four-poster bed or a gourmet kitchen, but I’d try to make you happy - having you with me would make me happy.”


Her breath caught at those words, but she didn’t look ready to order him out.


“I . . . I would make you happy?”


“You already do, and what happened . . . Scully, I, I’d given up thinking it could happen.”


She blushed from the memory and his eyes lightened.


“But Mulder, what if we were taped?”


“I’d want a copy.”  Her eyebrow rose.  “Scully, we’re consenting adults.  We were consenting, right?  It felt like we were consenting.”


She rolled her eyes, “yes it was consenting, but we were in no shape to be questioned about it.”


“I liked that part actually.”


She tried to look stern, but couldn’t sustain it.  His eyes were beginning to gleam.  “You did enjoy it!”


“I never said I didn’t enjoy it, I said I . . . I don’t remember what I said exactly, oh, I said I didn’t want you to control me.”


“What if you control me instead?”


Her eyes became mere slits then, with her glare and he actually chuckled.  This was the best he’d felt since he’d come to from that headache.  “Listen, I don’t have any plans tonight - “ He was startled at her involuntary glance at her bedroom, his eyes widening.


“Mulder, go home.”


“Come with me.”


“What? No.  I . . . it wouldn’t be a good idea.”


“I can’t think of a better idea.  I don’t think I’ve ever had a better idea.”




“No, really, listen.  We need to know if it was the drugs.  Maybe we’re not . . . maybe the drugs did make the difference.  We should find out, then if we’re not right for each other . . .”


“Mulder - “ She sounded warning, but she didn’t sound upset.


“We could have dinner first, maybe a movie.”


She turned away, trying to keep him from seeing her smile.  It didn’t work, and his own smile grew.  Okay, there were things to be worked out, a . . . a relationship that included sex with each other would be difficult, but so damn worth it.  After all, they were already best friends and he would never try to control her.  He shyly reached for her hand and to his surprised relief, she gave it to him.




The ease with which they came together astounded even him.  They were discreet, they had to be with Kersh in the picture, but learning this new part of each other was intoxicating.  He couldn’t remember a time in his life when he’d felt like this.  It drove all worries about . . . about other things from his mind. 


Which is why he dismissed the feeling of déjà vu when the phone rang and the caller identified himself as Billy Miles.  He followed Scully out of the office, “Let’s go waste some money.”

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




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