Title: In the Car Author: Adrienne Rating: NC-17 Spoilers: small Dreamland spoiler Classification: VRA Mulder/Scully, Mulder POV Keywords: Mulder/Scully, VRA Summary: Mulder and Scully find themselves in the car. Author's Notes: This story is dedicated to Gillian Anderson, because I wrote it on her birthday. This story is the first in a kind of series I've written--sequels are In My Room and In a Nutshell. Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully belong to Chris Carter, 1013, Fox, etc. Ford Tauruses are a registered trademark of the Ford Company. The lyrics in the beginning are property of Barenaked Ladies. http://petpede.tripod.com **************************************** "We were looking for ourselves and found each other In the car It was rare to do much more than simply mess around In the car It was mostly mutual masturbation" - Barenaked Ladies, In the Car **************************************** We're in the car. When you start off at the FBI, they tell you about the dull monotony of hours of paperwork. They tell you of the peeon duties you'll inherit as a new agent but also of the mounting benefits of climbing the ladder of federal bureaucracy and kissing a few asses on the way to the top. But they don't tell you about the driving. Insignificant as it may seem, the driving is what will piss you off more than anything. Sometimes it's an hour, sometimes three, sometimes six. Hell, there have been times where we've driven two fucking days across country for lack of a better transportation option. You're not going to read that in the job requirements. It gets frustrating and tiring, especially when you've got a partner who loves to nap and you can never build the nerve to wake her up. Scully always looks so peaceful when she sleeps, and I'd rather have her eyes closed while I'm casting glances at her rather than have her asking what the hell I'm doing staring at her all the time. So I drive. And when she's not talking, she's sleeping. As a person that can never get comfortable in a car seat I'm amazed at how this woman can curl up and sleep just about anywhere. I guess it's because I usually have my legs cramping up from not having enough room, but she can just stretch out and relax. There are a lot of things about Scully that amaze me, though. I guess her body comes to mind. She's gotten in the habit of wearing these nice fitting little black g-woman suits now. None of that baggy tan stuff she used to wear; no loose blouses sporting 147 stars that reminded me of a cheap 70's B-movie. Just black. And white. And the occasional tight, low-cut colored t-shirt that reminds me to wipe the drool off of my chin before she notices. She was good-looking then, but she's definitely got something going on now. So on this long stretch of lonely highway, I let my eyes wander over to my dormant partner, looking at her face first to make sure she's out cold before I lower my gaze to her lightly rising chest. Her face is tilted toward me, resting against her left shoulder, lips parted slightly. I do my careful survey in glances, eyes flickering to the road, then back to her. Her suit is stretched tightly over her breasts, hugging the soft, gentle curves. My hands ache to touch them every time I look at her like this, and I clutch the wheel a little tighter to inhibit myself. I'm also willing myself not to let my mind undress her, but the more I think about it, of course, the harder I can feel myself getting. I *hate* that. An overactive libido can be both a blessing and a detriment. In the car, with Scully, the latter is most often the case. I silently send my curses downward before a soft sigh coming from the passenger seat distracts me. Okay, it wasn't the seat, it was Scully. Sometimes it just pays to get technical about these things. I feel myself smile a little, wondering what she's dreaming about, feeling the soft prodding of hope that it's me. My gaze travels down her flat tummy, and my dick, of course, is really enjoying the tour now. My eyes dart back to the road for a fleeting moment before assuming their position on Scully's lower stomach once again. I wonder if she's sensitive there; I wonder if she would gasp if I kissed it. What I am surprised to see, when my eyes are lower, is that her right hand is not flung against the door or on the seat or even across her stomach. No, Scully's hand is somewhere a little more intimate than usual for this setting. I can see it clearly in the moonlight, the white skin a contrast against the dark fabric of her pants. Even in the shadows that are cast between her thighs, I can see the movement of her fingers. And I, I am suddenly a pool of electrified goo. I turn my head sharply toward the windshield, gulping softly, a tingle running from one head to the other. She's sleeping. I'm sure of that. And obviously she doesn't know what she's doing. *People do that a lot in their sleep*, I think to myself, rationalizing. *Hell, I do it all the time.* But not in the car. I am really disliking these pants right now. They were loose before, I wear them loose, not for this reason but it's as good as any as far as I'm concerned. But I am straining. Fucking throbbing. Because Scully's not three feet away touching herself and-- "Mmmhhhhh." Moaning. *Holy fucking shit.* Check that. I was not fucking throbbing then. But I'm sure as hell doin' it now. "Ohhhhhkay," I whisper to myself, staring at the yellow lines in the center of the road. I start to count the stripes. I gotta do something, because it just wouldn't be a good idea to whip it out and pleasure myself right here. One... two... three... Twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight... Sixty-seven, sixty-eight, sixty-nine... Awwww shit. Not a good thing. My mind starts working overtime. Jesus. You know you've got it bad when a simple juvenile cliche can lead you to a sexual image so intense that you can't even breathe. "Hmmm." *Dammit, Scully!!!* It was like she was agreeing. I have to look over again, I have to. Just once. Just to see. Her. There. My eyes flick to her lower body and she's got her legs spread a little more, and it is very evident that she's got her long, slender fingers working between them like there's no tomorrow. She traces them up and down and then presses her palm against herself, grinding, inducing another little Scully moan. She's gonna kill me. She's gonna kill us both when I run off the fucking road and hit a cactus, grabbing at my cock in a desperate attempt to jack off before death. I have to pull over. I look for a place on the side of the road, a little turnout, anything. If she wakes up, I could tell her I just wanted to rest for a bit. If not, I could get the fuck out of this car and do some rubbing of my own. My eyes catch the flash of a little sign up ahead and I slow down; can't turn out going eighty. The little turnout on the right is just a gravel half circle, no amenities, just enough to turn off the car and take a much needed nap, or a much needed jerk. I slow down even more, not wanting to wake Scully from whatever luscious dream she's having, and turn off onto the side. I pull up about halfway and stop the car, slamming it into park and switching off the ignition. The silence rushes over me and now all I can hear is Scully breathing. *Oh, this is even better.* She wasn't breathing like that before. I look over at her and watch her chest heaving a little more, and then I look down her right arm and watch her move her fingers over herself once again. She's sliding all four of them up, and then down, in a slow rubbing motion that hypnotizes me. It's amazing what one can do in one's sleep. I rub my eyes and plop my hands down on my thighs, the slightest movement of fabric against my erection making me shiver. And then, as if my right hand has a fucking mind of its own, it travels over to my cock and clenches around it. It takes all I have not to moan outloud, so Scully does it for me. *Thanks. Thanks a lot.* I tighten my hand against it and start to move it up and down, leading me to wonder if the idea of leaving the car is now completely abandoned. I grit my teeth, exhale slowly, and look over at my partner. The moonlight is playing over her face, partially covered by her disheveled mop of red hair. But I can still see her lips as they move, watch them part as she sighs or breathes or moans. My hand's moving faster and I push myself against the back of the seat, tilting my head back as my hips thrust upward slightly. My left hand moves from my thigh and grabs for something, anything to hold onto. I find the steering wheel and grab one of the center columns. *Oh, that's nice. Really nice.* I roll my head over to watch Scully as she pants softly, her hand moving a little faster. I grip the steering wheel and... HONK. *Ohshit. Ohfuck. Ohjesus...* She jumps awake, her eyes wild as I slam my right hand down against the divider. She slams her right hand down on the door handle. *Fuckin' horn. Goddamned Tauruses. Son of a bitch!* "What... what happened?" she asked, sitting upright groggily. "I uhhh. We're stopped, because I had to rest... take a nap. And we're here, on the side of the road... everything's fine." My thoughts are spitting out as half sentences. "Why did you honk the horn?" she yawns, looking over at me with her cheek pressed against the seat. "Accident." *No shit.* "Oh." Scully bites her lip and meets my eyes. *Don't look down now, Scully, cause you might like what you see.* "Yeah." This erection needs to make like David Copperfield and disappear. He can make elephants disappear, you'd think he could fuckin' do me some justice here. We're silent for a few minutes as we both rest and recover. I know she was close. Hell, I was close. "Mulder." Ting. My cock just lost the efforts of five minutes of concentration. "Yeah?" "Did... I..." she sighs, and turns to face the windshield. I do the same. "Did you see me... doing... that?" Confessional time. "Yeah." She breathes in sharply, as if she didn't know that I was going to say it. I guess I didn't even know what I was going to say. "Oh." "Yeah." *Sex makes every conversation more interesting.* I don't know what to do. I don't want to leave her frustrated. It should be my duty, my calling, to set things straight. To make things right. To help her out. I have always had this warped sense of logic I just can't explain. "Scully?" She's still staring at the windshield. "Yeah?" "It was mutual." Her eyes widen. But her sight remains focused on something invisible in front of the bumper. "It was, huh?" Her voice is soft. "Get over here, Scully." Jesus. *What the hell am I doing... who the hell am I kidding... where the hell am I going to work after she fuckin' reports me for sexual har--* The divider is lifted and Scully slides into my lap as smoothly as any maneuver I've ever witnessed. She's facing me, her back against the bottom part of the wheel, her knees on either side of my hips. I find myself glad that I've got the seat back as far as it can go. But that, in fact, is the least of my concerns at this point. I didn't think I could get any harder. But then, I've never had Scully hot and damp right above me. Before I know it, she's got her hand between us, but she's not rubbing me... she's rubbing herself. Though I feel a twinge of remorse, I also feel a hot throb of arousal when she tosses her head back and sighs softly. "Scully... I..." I whisper, my hands not knowing where the hell to go, and finally settling on her thighs. "Mulder..." she sighs softly, looking down at me. I can see the desperation in her eyes. "Do it now." "Me?" No, the other Mulder in the backseat you cocksucker. "Yeah... oh god please..." Her fingers are moving a little faster as I move my right hand down between us, my knuckles brushing with hers as she lifts her hips just enough so that I can get my hand over my cock. I moan softly at the feeling, the air warm between us as I start to massage it roughly through my pants. "Scuhhlllyy..." I moan, watching her with half-closed eyes. She bites her lip and puts her left hand at the base of my neck, fingers tensing over the knotted muscles as I strain to keep myself under control. "Mulder," she answers, her whisper soft, as she moves her hand up to her zipper and pulls it down. I hear it and I grab my zipper, pulling it down at the same time, feeling the same urgent need to feel hot skin as she. Scully slips her hand into her fly and I do the same, our movements mimicking each other. I find the slit of my boxers and force my hand through, a little restricted on the movement, but it works. I stroke my fingers up and down and clench my teeth as my breath hisses through them. She plunges her hand down into her pants, and probably her panties, and moans. I wish I could see it, but hearing her and watching her expressions is good enough. I wrap my fingers around my cock and start to pump it furiously, my head resting back against the seat and feeling her hand behind my neck. I watch her as she whimpers, pressing her hips against her hand and down against me, brushing against my cock and sending me spiraling deeper toward the point of no return. "Jesus, Mulder, I'm gonna... it's... uhhnh...." she pants. I can hear her hand rubbing hard and fast against the fabric of her clothes and I think about how she's rubbing her clit, her folds, maybe fingering herself... right on top of me... "Yeaahh..." I whisper through my teeth, thrusting my hips up against her hand. She moans as I retreat and rub my cock faster. The sparks of this incredible build are tingling up my body like fireworks and I feel like I'm either going to pass out or come harder than I ever have. Ever. She grabs the back of my neck and pulls, moaning and tilting her head back. "Mul... Mullhhhh... mmmhmmmmlldd..." she whimpers, her fingernails digging into my neck. She comes hard, bucking back up against the steering wheel and groaning softly at the same time, followed by several shallow breaths that catch in her throat like she's drowning in the waves of her orgasm. Listening to her, it doesn't take me long to be near the edge. I close my eyes and squeeze my cock, feeling it build deep in my balls and erupt suddenly, a chord in my body tightening with electric release. I don't speak intelligibly when I come, just moan and groan and clench my eyes shut as I know she's staring at me, watching me, pushing her fingers through her wetness as I stop my hand, which is covered with my semen. *Without a sink in sight.* She leans into me, her body covering mine and her mouth by my cheek. She's still breathing heavily, and I can feel her moist breath against my skin and her chest heaving with mine. "Mulder," she whispers. I open my eyes and turn to face her and she smiles. I return the gesture, my mind connecting with what just happened. It feels good. Really fucking good. "Feeling better, Scully?" I ask, grinning. "Mmmhmm," she answers, with a little giggle that melts my heart. *I love her giggles. Such a blissful rarity.* I laugh, and she looks at me with her eyebrows raised. "What?" "We're in the car." "I know that," she answers, squeezing my arm with her hand. "What's so funny about that?" "Well, I remember you complaining about us being in the car too much," I comment, grinning. "Yeah, I did. We are. So?" "Well, do you think..." I say, running a hand down her side and making her shiver, "if we did this more often, that you could stop bitching at me?" She laughs, her grin widening. "About the car, maybe." End. feedback rocks! davephile@yahoo.com