Title Just Words I (1/1)
Author Rachel Anton
E-Mail RaValliano@aol.com
Rating NC-17
Category S
Keywords MSR
Spoilers Small Chinga, nothing huge.
Disclaimer Still don't own these characters. Don't
think I ever will. Oh well (
Summary What does Mulder want out of his life these
days?
Author's note This is just my take on a very old
theme. Let me know how you like it.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

I am not a weekend person. I know. Big shock. I've just
never been one of those people who sits in their office
on Friday afternoon, climbing the walls and watching
the clock, desperate for escape, for leisure time. I
don't do leisure time. The concept has always eluded
me.

The truth is I don't know what to do with it. I used to
spend my weekends doing research, following leads down
dead ends, basically doing the same thing I did all
week at work. But I can't do that anymore. Not alone.
The motivation just isn't there.

Sometimes there is an actual need to work. Sometimes a
case needs attention and we have to spend the weekend
investigating. Sometimes there is a backlog of
paperwork and we have to spend Saturday and Sunday
doing that. Those are good weekends. Not like this
weekend. This weekend there is nothing. Nothing to come
between me and my leisure time. Fucking great.

Wanna hear what I've done so far? Too bad. I'm going to
subject you to the list anyway. It is now Saturday.
Seven p.m.. Since I left work Friday afternoon I have
fed my fish twelve times, watched five unmentionable
videotapes, bounced a basketball three hundred
consecutive times on the table in my living room,
cleaned out my sock drawer and played, and won, thirty-
six games of computer solitaire. What a life.

Notice anything missing from that pathetic assortment?
Thought you might. That's right. I haven't called her
once. Not one single time. And I am damned proud of
myself. I have to say its taken every ounce of
restraint I have not to. But I haven't. She asked me
not to. Told me not to. And I want to listen. I want to
do what she asks because she asks it and I don't want
to make her unhappy. I don't want to drive her insane,
to drive her away from me, and if she wants space I
need to respect that.

Even though it is driving me absolutely crazy.

How long has it been since I heard her voice? Almost
twenty-six hours. And I am already edgy and jittery,
like a junkie in withdrawal. Is that what its come to?
Is this what I've become? Totally pathetic.

I understand her need for time to herself. Really I do.
Everyone needs time to themselves. Right? It keeps you
healthy. It keeps you sane. Right? So why don't I need
it anymore? I used to need it constantly. I used to
hate being inconvenienced by the presence of other
people. They got in the way. Disrupted my thoughts. So
why is it different now? Why do I feel so aimless, so
desperately lonely when she's not around?

The fact that she is so anxious to get away from me
only makes this whole thing more embarrassing. What am
I supposed to tell her when she demands that I don't
call her? Am I supposed to beg? Is that the deal? Jesus
what ever happened to my masculinity? If you find it
let me know.

Alright this pacing around the apartment thing is
getting old. Time for a new task. Maybe I'll clean the
grout in my tub. I'll bet she never gets grout.

As I am digging through the closet in the hallway,
trying in vain to find some kind of cleaning implement,
I am startled to the point of jumping by the sound of
the telephone. I am tempted to let the machine pick it
up. There is no one who it could possibly be that I
want to talk to. But still, even Frohike would be
better than bathroom fixtures.

"Hello."

Silence. Long silence. Except for the sound of
breathing. Great. I don't even want to know what this
is about.

"Hello?"

"Um...hi." My first response to hearing her voice is
absolute panic. Why would she call? Something must have
happened. And nothing good ever happens to us.

"Scully, what is it? What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Nothing's wrong. I just...um..thought I
um..." She sounds totally flustered. Worry starts to
give way to amusement. She doesn't even know why she
called. She just did.

"Scully? You there?"

"Um yeah...yeah I'm here. Um..whatcha doin?"

"Just cleaning some grout. How about you?"

"I was just sort of thinking. Nothing really."

"Scully is it Monday already?"

"Huh?"

"Thought I was a persona non grata till then." I can't
help the wisecrack. And I can't help the huge smile
spreading across my face either. Maybe "some time to
myself" is working out for her as well as it is for me.

"Well um...I actually needed to ask you about
something."

"Oh really? What's that?" I think I can actually hear
the wheels turning in her little head, trying to
concoct some kind of excuse, a reasonable explanation.
Maybe it will be something about work. Or maybe she
thinks she left something important in my apartment. I
can't wait to hear what she comes up with.

"Um I was just thinking that...I was just...Mulder what
do you want out of your life?" Okay, this I was not
expecting. The truth. This is actually why she called.
It is such a tremendous question, asked in such a
random and unexpected fashion that I am at a complete
loss. What exactly IS she asking me? And why?

"I'd like to see the Jets win the Superbowl someday."
Good one jack ass. You're such a laugh riot.

"Mulder..."

I sit on the couch and turn off the television. This is
definitely a sit down conversation.

"Sorry Scully, I'm just not really sure how to answer
that."

"I'm sorry. I know it's a weird question. I was just
sitting here thinking and I just...I just wondered. I
mean I used to know." Yes, she did. I told her the
first time I met her. My sister, the truth, answers. I
told her it was all that mattered to me. We both know
things are different now. I have been waiting for this
conversation for a long time. What matters to you now
Mulder? What do you want? Doesn't she know?

She sounds sad. And a little lost. I suppose she
doesn't know. Or maybe she does and it makes her sad
because she can't give it.

"Well Scully, do you want the truth?"

"Of course I do."

Of course I can't tell her the truth. Not the whole
truth anyway. But I suppose if I left her name out...

"What do I want out of my life?" I take a deep breath
in preparation. "Um...actually it's not as unusual as
you might think Scully. I'd really just be happy to
have...someone. I'd like to be able to have someone I
could hold who would feel safe in my arms. Someone who
loved me and needed me, who I could protect and
cherish, who could share everything with me..." She
makes a tiny little sound, a...a moan? Could that be
what that was? What was that sound? No it must have
been my imagination. So I continue.

"I mean when I picture my ideal life now Scully, the
only thing I can see is lying next to...someone...and
wrapping my arms around her, knowing that she is happy
just to be there with me, knowing that she has faith in
me and that she trusts me with her heart."

"Mulder..." There is a strange silence between us for a
moment. What is she thinking? Does it make her happy to
know this? Sad? Does she pity me? "How?"

"What? What do you mean?"

"H...how are you holding her? Describe the picture in
your head to me."

Whoa. This is getting really dangerous here. I'm
starting to get very nervous. But I have to tell her.
How can I refuse?

"Um...okay. We're lying here on my couch and we're in
pajamas, well I'm in sweatpants, she's in pajamas.
Fuzzy flannel pajamas. She looks warm and comfortable.
We're under the blanket. Her head is resting on my
chest, right under my chin. She's sleeping. And when I
look down at her she has the most beautiful peaceful
smile. And I know it's there because of me. That I make
her feel safe and happy and content."

"Where are your arms?" This is little more than a
whisper. What in God's name is happening here?

"One...one of my arms is around her back, holding her
against me. The other one is..." I swallow. My throat
is suddenly very dry. "The other one is clutching her
hair. Her arms are wrapped around my stomach and our
legs are so tangled up that I can barely tell where she
ends and I begin. I'm holding her so tight against me
that I can feel every beat of her heart. I bury my face
in her hair and it's so soft, it smells so good..."
Steady boy. That's enough already.

Another sound. That was definitely a moan. Or
something. What is this? Is she crying? God I hope
she's not crying. Please know that I'm talking about
you Scully. Please know that I could never have that,
never want that with anyone else.

When she finally speaks her voice is breathless
and...something. Something I've never heard in her
before. "Is that...is that a fantasy you have Mulder?"
A what? What IS that in her voice? Something is
happening here. She sounds almost...seductive. A
fantasy? Quite a choice of words there Scully. Jesus.

I try to match her sultry tone of voice but my next
words are as high pitched and squeaky as an adolescent
boy. "Well that depends what you mean by fantasy
Scully." That's not even true to be honest with you. No
matter how she is defining fantasy, that is one. In
fact just talking about it made me hard. And then that
moan. God. Let's just say I am a bit...enthusiastic at
the moment.

"I just mean...ooh" her voice drifts off for a moment
and all I hear is her breathing (panting??) into the
receiver. "I dunno." She mutters quickly. My hand is on
my dick. How did it get there? Please don't ask me. I
don't know.

"Scully? Are you all right?" Am I all right? What the
hell is happening?

"I'm...fine" Of course. She's fine. And this is
completely normal. Whatever keeps you sane Scully.

"Yeah."

"Yeah wha...?"

"Yeah it's a fantasy I have. You wanna hear another
one?" Oh my God. OHMYGOD. What the fuck am I doing? I
seriously hope that we are on the same page here or I
am about to make a colossal ass of myself. But how
could we be? Could she be...no. No. This is not
happening. I feel like I'm in a car with no brakes,
careening out of control suddenly and randomly.

She still hasn't responded to that. I can't hear her
breathing anymore either. Maybe she was so disgusted
that she hung up on me. How could I blame her? Jeez
what the hell was I thinking asking her that? Of course
she doesn't want to hear another one. She's not a
fucking pervert like me.

Her voice almost startles me. "I don't....yeah. Yeah I
do." Oh. Oh wow. Okay. Her voice. Same page. There is
no mistaking that voice. At least I don't think there
is. Please God don't let this be a misread. Please.

Okay superstud, now you've gotta think of another one.
A good one. One that she might actually like. One that
won't make her throw up. Unfortunately I already told
her the nice one. The rest are pretty nasty. God what
was I thinking asking her that?

I am suddenly gripped by an almost paralyzing fear.
What am I supposed to say to her? Should I tell her one
of my real fantasies? Or make something up that she
would be into? What would she be into? What the fuck am
I doing? God she is gonna hate me no matter what I say.
Maybe I can plead temporary insanity and she will
forget about it. I am so terrified I'm actually
starting to shake and sweat.

"Mulder?" My free hand squeezes involuntarily at my
crotch at the sound of her voice. Yeah I'm scared. But
Jesus how could I not be turned on by this? Well Mulder
fight or flight, what's it gonna be? Lust or fear? Who
has more power over your soul?

"Mulder are you...are you gonna tell me?" Her. She
wins. Hands down. She wants this. God she really does.
Instinct tells me to make it real. Honesty got me into
this in the first place. Might as well continue.

"I'm sleeping in my apartment, naked on the couch."

"No." No?

"Huh?"

"You don't sleep naked. You sleep in your underwear."
Leave it to Scully. No suspension of disbelief for her.
Even in a fantasy. It would make me laugh if it didn't
turn me on so much to know that she knows what I sleep
in. That she's thought about it.

"Okay Scully. I'm sleeping in my underwear in my
apartment."

"Which ones?"

"Black. Calvin Klein boxer briefs."

"Mmmm kay." God her voice is so fucking sexy. What the
fuck? No one should be able to sound like that. I only
hope mine is passable for her. I try to make the next
part slower. Quieter. More erotic? I sure as hell hope
so.

"Kay. I'm awakened by something cold and sharp digging
into my wrists. I open my eyes but everything is black.
I try to move my hands but I can't. They're behind my
back and bound." I pause for a moment. Just to make
sure. Give her one last chance to say "what the fuck
are you doing Mulder" and hang up on me. She's
breathing quickly. She says nothing.

"I'm afraid for a moment. And disoriented. I have no
idea what's happening. And then I hear someone pacing
around the couch. The click of her heels on the wood
floor, the smell of her perfume. Her laughter when she
sees me struggle."

"Do you know her?"

Oh Jesus Scully. Are you kidding me? How can you not
know.

"Yeah, yeah I know her. I know her well enough to give
her a set of keys to my apartment. Keys that she used
to sneak in tonight, to play this game with me." She
makes a muffled noise. I wonder what she's using to
stifle her groans. A pillow? Is she in bed?

"Wh..what then?"

"I sit up and ask her what she thinks she's doing. She
laughs at me again. Then she leans in close, I feel her
hair brushing against my shoulder as she whispers in my
ear 'Do you trust me?'. Of course she knows I do. But I
am still afraid. I'm completely powerless, vulnerable,
at her mercy." Her small "oh" starts my hand to sliding
up and down over my jeans.

"She runs her fingernails over by bare chest, my
shoulders. Her touch is featherlight but it's enough to
turn me on. It's enough to make me hard. She orders me
to stand up. I stagger to my feet and she leads me away
from the couch, to the middle of the floor. I feel her
hands slip under the waistband of my underwear. For a
moment I think she is going to touch me. I want it so
bad. But she doesn't. She pulls them off and steps
back. I can sense her staring at me. Taking in every
inch of flesh. Devouring me with her eyes."

"Oh...Mulder." Her breath is coming in short little
pants now. I can't believe I am doing this. Oh my God I
can't believe we are doing this.

"Scully, you wanna know what she does next?"

"Mmm...yeah."

"Yeah?"

"God yeah." I have to unzip my jeans. I have to slip my
hand inside and take out my cock. I don't even have a
choice anymore.

"She pushes me down to my knees in front of her. I can
smell the sweetness, I can almost taste her. She must
be naked. Or at least have that part of herself
exposed. She digs her nails into my hair and pulls me
to her, burying my face between her legs. I slide my
tongue through her folds. I know how she likes it. I
want to please her. It's all I want. She cries out and
grinds herself into my face. She's so wet. She tastes
so good. She starts to tremble as I flick my tongue
back and forth over her clit, faster and faster." She
lets out a long, low moan and I start to stroke myself
a little faster.

"It makes me so hot to be doing this to her. I want to
touch myself but I can't. My hands are still
restrained. I struggle against the cuffs but there's no
point. She is gasping and clutching me to her. I can
tell that she's about to come."

"God...Mulder." Sorry baby, not yet.

"Suddenly she pushes me away from her." She makes a
disappointed, questioning, yelping sound. "She tells me
to stand again and she takes me to one of the kitchen
chairs. She pushes me into the hard cold seat and I
feel something tightening around my ankles. She ties
them to the legs of the chair. Now I can't move at all.
She moves around behind me and runs her tongue over my
ear. I growl hungrily and strain my neck to be closer
to her mouth. I need her mouth. I want to kiss her so
bad. Finally she lets me but only for a moment. Only
long enough for her to taste herself on me, to slide
her tongue over my lips and between my teeth. Then she
moves back to my ear. She whispers to me. She asks me
if I want her to fuck me. But she knows the answer to
that already. All I can do is moan in response. She
laughs again and slides her fingertips over my chest,
then my legs. I can't tell where she is anymore. All I
feel is her fingers stroking my skin, so lightly. God I
want more. More I tell her, please more."

Scully is moaning almost constantly now. And I am
getting more and more swept up into the pictures in my
head, the sounds she is making. I grip myself tighter
and move faster. I'm getting close. Christ I can't
fucking believe this.

"Suddenly I feel her tongue teasing my flesh, tasting
me everywhere. Finally I feel it swirl around the head
of my cock and it feels so good. I'm seeing stars. And
I need more and I try to jerk into her mouth but she's
tied me tight and I can't move at all. Then she's gone
and I sob in frustration. I can't feel her anywhere and
I don't know where she is. For a minute I'm terrified
that she's gone, that she's left me here like this.
But...but I know she wouldn't. I know that in my heart.
You know why Scully?"

"B...because you" her voice is trembling and she needs
to take a deep breath before continuing, "you trust
her."

"Because I trust her. And then she's back. I feel her
again, over me. Her hands are behind me on the back of
the chair and her legs are on either side of me.
Slowly, so slowly, she lowers herself down on me. And
she's everywhere, she's surrounding me and I'm filling
her and it feels so good. God nothing has ever felt so
good. She starts moving, slowly sliding up and down.
She's so hot, so tight, and she's moaning and calling
out my name. I want to move, I wanna go deeper, harder,
but I can't. And I start begging her to please, please
let me go so that I can pound into her the way I need
to and she just laughs again."

"Ooohh oh Mul...Mmmm...Mulder..."

"Then she starts to move faster herself, to take me all
the way in and all the way back out
again...God...harder and faster."

"Yeah...oh yeah."

"And I need to see her. I need to see her face when she
comes Scully. I ask her to take the blindfold off, to
please let me look at her. I can barely speak because I
am so lost in the feel of her but she knows what I
want. She always knows what I want. She slides her
fingers under the cloth and then there is brightness
and confusion and then I see...God you're so beautiful
Scully. So fucking beautiful." Shit. Shitshitshit.

"Oh God...oh my God...Mulder." She likes it. She's not
mad. Keep going. Jesus man keep going.

"You take my face in your hands and kiss me again,
freely this time, and hungrily. I capture your scream
of pleasure in my mouth as you start to tremble around
me. I feel you tightening and clenching, bringing me
deeper inside and I...I..."

"What? You what?" She is urgent, desperate almost.

"Scully where are you?" I need to know. I can't go on
this way. I need it to be real, acknowledged. I need to
see her in my mind. I need to really talk to her.
Before I come. Before she comes.

"What do you...my house Mulder."

"I know. Where?"

"Oh...oh, I'm in..in the living room."

"Tell me more Scully. Tell me everything. Please."

"I um...oh God I can't...mmm..I'mmm, I'm on the floor.
I'm...my head is resting on the cushions of the couch
and I'm sitting on the floor. My knees are bent and my
legs are spread and I..."

"Are you naked?"

"Mmm...no. I'm wearing a T-shirt. It's white."

"What else?"

"That's all."

"Panties?"

"Not...not anymore."

"God...Scully." I can see her there. I can see her so
clearly. God I wanna be there. I wanna be there so
fucking badly.

"Tell me what you're doing Scully."

" My eyes are closed. I'm holding the phone with one
hand and the other hand is between my legs. I'm
alternating between sliding my fingers in and out of
myself and rubbing over my clit."

"I'll bet you're real wet huh?"

"Oh...yeah, yeah I am."

"You gonna come soon Scully?" God I hope so cause I
sure as hell am.

"God Mulder...yeah, yeah. What..what about you? Tell me
about you."

"I'm sitting on the couch, my head is back, eyes open.
I'm in jeans and nothing else. They're unbuttoned and
I'm holding my cock in my hand, stroking myself. I'm
holding it up, away from my stomach, towards the
ceiling. I'm hard Scully...so hard, for you, because of
you."

"Mulder...I'm...God I'm gonna come Mulder."

"Yeah...me too, me too. Come for me Scully. I wanna
hear it. I wanna hear you."

"I want you in me Mulder...I want you here...I want...I
want you. God I want you."

A sob escapes me and I jerk harder into my hand.

"Mulder my body...I'm shaking and my hips
are...god...rotating and..." her sentence is lost to a
resounding cry and I let myself get a little closer, a
little further.

"Yeah Scully...go with it. Come for me. Come with me
Scully. Come with me."

My hips rise off the couch uncontrollably pounding into
my fist as her voice breaks and she calls out my name.

"Scully...I'm throbbing, I'm so close, Scully I..."

She is screaming, and crying "Mulder...Mulder I'm
coming...oh God Mulder...I love you!
IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou. God!"

I call her name frantically into the receiver and
explode with a deafening yell. I clutch the phone to me
as cum shoots out of my body, straight up into the air
and then back down. All over me. Lovely. I am too gone
to care though.

She is still gasping and whimpering. So am I actually.
Christ. Jesus Christ. We don't speak for several
minutes. Love. She loves me. She lovesmelovesmelovesme.
My head is spinning. My world is off its axis. Where am
I? What the hell is happening?

"Scully?"

"Oh Mulder. What...what the hell just happened Mulder?"

"Um..this, this is just a guess but um...I think we
just had phone sex." She laughs shakily. Thank God.
Thank you God.

"That's really a big help Mulder. Thanks."

"Did...did you like it Scully?"

"Like it? Like.." she laughs again. "Um, you're the
detective Mulder. What do you think?" She liked it. She
liked it. She loves me. She's half naked on her living
room floor. She just masturbated with me. She loves me.
Oh my God.

"Scully I want to come over."

"What?" Her tone is suddenly different, panicked. Of
course. Phone sex is one thing. Coming over...that's
another ball game altogether. A ball game I am ready to
start. Finally. "Mulder I'm not sure...I..."

"Scully what you said...when you came Scully..."

"Mulder I..."

"I'm coming over Scully. Now."

End part I
Xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Author: Rachel Anton 
 E-Mail: RaValliano@aol.com 
 Rating: NC-17 
 Category: S 
 Keywords: MSR 
 Spoilers: Small Chinga, nothing major. 
 Disclaimers: Nope, still don't own em. Mulder and 
 Scully belong to the surfer God and to each other. 
 Summary: Scully's take on the events in Just Words I. 
 Note: This is Scully's take and is somewhat different 
 than Mulder's portrayal of events ala Bad Blood. Keep 
 in mind that it's supposed to be that way and is not an 
 author screw up. :) And please, let me know if it 
 works! 
  
 xxxxxxxxxxx 
    
 There is something strange in the atmosphere tonight. 
 It's going to rain soon. It's one of those Spring 
 evenings where everything in nature seems to be 
 waiting. The clouds are almost oppressive. The humidity 
 intense. I open one of the windows to let in some of 
 the charged air. Waiting...for what? 
  
 I feel as though I am waiting as well. For the 
 beginning of something? Or the end? I am not sure. But 
 I am filled with the nervous energy of the waiter. The 
 person who is close to...something. Yeah that's it. 
 Something. Real profound. 
  
 I close my journal angrily. Those words don't even come 
 close to making sense. What am I trying to say here? 
 Waiting. Waiting for the goddamn weekend to be over 
 probably Dana. 
  
 It's been nice so far. Really it has. Last night I 
 spent two hours in the tub, read a great book and fell 
 asleep more content that I've felt in a long time. And 
 this morning I had a lovely breakfast and went for a 
 nice drive. I even did some clothes shopping. It was a 
 pleasant, relaxing day. Until I got home. Until I tried 
 to finally do what I had been planning on doing this 
 weekend in the first place. Some reflection. 
  
 I wanted to sort through some things. To think about 
 the state of my life, the direction I should be heading 
 in. It's been so long since I've really had a moment to 
 myself to think about this and I needed it. 
  
 The problem is that when I think about my life all 
 roads lead back to one place. And that place is covered 
 with a big fat question mark these days. Ever since 
 I've known Mulder I have defined myself in relation to 
 him. His goals, his dreams, I accepted or rejected them 
 but either way they helped define who and what I was. 
 Either way I walked forward with him. Knowing what he 
 was after and wanting desperately to help him get it. 
  
 But lately, lately I have little to no idea what Mulder 
 wants or expects from this journey we are on. I know 
 that he needs me in his life still, I know that he 
 cares for me with a fierce loyalty. But the path has 
 become somewhat blurry. Both of our beliefs have been 
 shaken and the motivations behind each of our actions 
 called into question. 
  
 Long story short; I don't know what he wants anymore 
 and it has left me floundering. This is not as pathetic 
 as it might sound. I am not completely reliant on him 
 for my identity as a human being. But a huge part of my 
 life has always been the give and take between us, the 
 action and reaction. The passion of his beliefs has 
 always been a guide for me. 
  
 And now, well I'm just not sure about anything anymore. 
 If I knew what was driving him it would help me sort 
 through my own feelings, my desires. Well never mind 
 about my desires. We're not even going to go there. 
  
 The problem is, if I want to figure any of this out I 
 need to talk to him. I need to call him. After I 
 lectured him for a half an hour on Friday about leaving 
 me the hell alone this weekend. How embarrassing. 
  
 It is strange that he hasn't called me yet. I was not 
 expecting him to last even half this long. He's 
 probably not even home. If he were home he would have 
 called me by now. Maybe he went away for the weekend. I 
 can't help but feel sad about that possibility. 
  
 Dammit I miss him. What IS my problem. I just want to 
 hear his voice. Just call him. He's not even home. Just 
 listen to the message, get your fix, and stop thinking 
 about him. 
  
 I leave the kitchen table and move to the living room, 
 to the phone. I sit down on the floor by the couch and 
 start to dial the number. This is so stupid. God is 
 this ridiculous. The phone rings once, twice, five 
 times. I was right. He's not home. I am partially 
 relieved, partially disappointed. I can't wait to hear 
 his voice on the machine. 
  
 "Hello." Oh. Oh shit. He's there. Hang up. No don't. 
 Shit. What the hell am I doing? 
  
 "Hello?!" God he sounds bitchy as hell. 
  
 "Mulder...um hi." 
  
 "Scully? What is it?" 
  
 Good question. "Um...nothing. Nothing. I was just.." 
  
 "Just what?" Shit. How am I supposed to answer that. I 
 am not supposed to be talking to him at all. How in the 
 world do I explain myself. 
  
 "Scully are you there?" 
  
 "Yeah. Yeah I'm here. Whatcha doing?" 
  
 He sighs melodramatically. "Cleaning grout." he says 
 with a pout that I can see through the telephone. 
 "You?" 
  
 "I'm...I was thinking. Just thinking." 
  
 "Scully I thought you didn't want to talk to me until 
 Monday." Well here we go. I might as well just come out 
 with it. There is no real excuse other than the truth. 
 What I've really been thinking about. 
  
 "Well I actually have something I wanted to ask you 
 about Mulder. Something I've been thinking about." 
  
 "Oh yeah. What's that Scully?" Why does he have to 
 sound so damn cocky. Why does he have to gloat about 
 this. 
  
 "I was just...just thinking and...wondering about.." 
 God spit it out woman. "Mulder what do you want out of 
 your life?" I wonder if that sounded as completely 
 random as I think it did. He is silent for a moment. A 
 long uncomfortable moment. God Mulder, please don't 
 make a joke and change the subject. Please just give me 
 a straight answer for once. 
  
 "I'd like to see the Yankees win the World Series 
 again." Great. Fucking great. I think maybe I'll hang 
 up now. 
  
 "Mulder I think..." 
  
 "Scully I...I just don't know how to answer that 
 question." He sounds like he doesn't know the answer 
 either. I suppose that's no real surprise. We are both 
 so lost lately. 
  
 "I know it's a difficult question Mulder. Believe me I 
 know. But I just...I used to know and...just tell me 
 the truth Mulder. Whatever it is." 
  
 "The truth?" 
  
 "Yes, the truth." 
  
 "The truth is Scully...what I want is not that unusual. 
 In fact it's downright normal." He sounds hesitant and 
 shy suddenly. "I'd really...I'd be happy just to have 
 someone Scully." To have someone? What does he mean? He 
 has me. Doesn't he? "I'd be happy just to have someone 
 I love feel safe in my arms. Someone I could hold and 
 protect. Someone who" his voice catches for a moment 
 and I am afraid he is going to cry. Oh Mulder. Is that 
 all? "Someone who loves me, who I could protect and 
 cherish. Someone I could share everything with..." He 
 drifts off and a sigh escapes me. It sounds so 
 wonderful. I wonder if he wants that person to be me as 
 much as I want to be that person. 
  
 "When I picture my ideal life, Scully all I can see now 
 is lying next to someone, holding her, knowing that she 
 is happy just to be in my arms, that she has faith in 
 me and that she trusts me completely. Even with her 
 heart." My heart clenches in my chest for both of us. 
 For this man who is so desperate to be loved, who has 
 so much love to give. And for me, this woman who is so 
 afraid to let someone love her. We are quite a pair. 
 Does he know how badly I want to be that woman? How 
 that picture brings a smile of longing to my face? I 
 want to tell him. 
  
 "Mulder..." But I am a coward. I cannot tell him this. 
 Not yet. There is a silence between us, thick with 
 unspoken need. 
  
 "Tell me how you're holding her. Close your eyes and 
 tell me what you see." I know what I am seeing. I need 
 to know if it's the same picture. 
  
 "Um..okay. We're lying together on my couch, under a 
 blanket. She's in warm fuzzy flannel pajamas. She looks 
 safe and warm. I'm in sweatpants. Her head is resting 
 under my chin as she sleeps and she has the most 
 beautiful, peaceful smile. I know that smile is there 
 because of me. That I make her feel happy and content." 
 Yes. Oh yes that is beautiful Mulder. His voice is so 
 wistful when he speaks of it I think I am going to cry. 
 And then he goes on, in a more gravely tone. 
  
 "One of my arms is around her back, clutching her body 
 to mine. The other is wrapped in her hair." He stops 
 for a moment and I am struck by a vivid mental image of 
 myself wrapped in his naked arms. It's making me itch. 
 It's making me hot. "Her arms are wrapped around my 
 stomach and our legs are so tangled up that I can't 
 tell where she ends and I begin." What is he doing? Oh 
 my God what is he doing to me? He is starting to 
 breathe heavily. Or is that me? Without even realizing 
 it my free hand starts stroking my leg, imagining how 
 it would feel. "I'm holding her so tight that I can 
 feel every beat of her heart against me. Her body feels 
 so good. God she feels..." I clutch myself through the 
 material of my sweatpants. Oh my God. Jesus. "I bury my 
 face in her hair and it's so soft, it smells so sweet, 
 she smells so good..." I moan. I can't help it. Dammit. 
 What's the matter with me? He must think I'm a 
 desperate horny mess. But he's doing it on purpose. God 
 he must be. He must be trying to turn me on. He must. 
  
 Is this what he dreams about at night? Is this his 
 fantasy? It's so much tamer than the thoughts that keep 
 me awake, and yet it is so erotic and exciting in its 
 tenderness and simplicity. Is this what the king of 
 porn masturbates to? I wouldn't have thought it but the 
 way he was saying it...I need to know. Can I ask him 
 that? Is that all right? 
  
 I have no idea what is all right right now. This is too 
 strange. Almost dizzy with the need to understand I ask 
 him if this is his fantasy. He sucks in a breath and 
 asks me what exactly I mean by fantasy. His voice is so 
 damn sexy. Jesus Christ. He's not going to make this 
 easy is he. 
  
 I don't even know what I mean. I don't know what I'm 
 saying or thinking anymore. Suddenly he mutters a 
 frighteningly arousing "Yeah." Oh God. Yeah what? Just 
 yeah? Is he touching himself right now? Shit, I am. How 
 did that happen? 
  
 "It's one of my fantasies Scully. You wanna hear 
 another one?" What? What did he just say? What the fuck 
 did he just say? And beyond what he said, the way he 
 said it. My God. Lord and Jesus. There is no mistaking 
 that tone, no doubt what he is talking about here. But 
 is he kidding? Is he teasing me? Does he really want to 
 do this? Do I? 
  
 I don't know. I don't know. But I do. God I do. And I 
 tell him that. And I wait. What kind of fantasy will it 
 be? Another sweet image of domestic tranquillity? 
 Somehow I doubt that. My center is starting to twitch 
 in anticipation and I grind my palm against it. What 
 does Mulder want? What makes him hot? God I am starting 
 to sweat. How did we get here? I feel completely out of 
 control. 
  
 Is this all it takes? One description of a hug and I am 
 masturbating on the living room floor, begging for 
 more. Maybe I am a desperate, horny mess. Or maybe it's 
 just Mulder. Mulder and that damn voice. Where did that 
 voice go anyway? He's been eerily silent for some time 
 now. Has he changed his mind? Was it a fucking joke? 
 Did he expect me to laugh it off and hang up? 
  
 "Mulder...are...are you gonna tell me?" Oh my God. I 
 sound so fucking pathetic. He is probably holding the 
 phone away from him so I won't hear him laughing at me. 
 Just when I am ready to hang up he starts talking. 
 Quietly, lyrically. And I try to imagine the scene he 
 creates. 
  
 Naked? No. His set up is all wrong. This needs to be 
 real. I need to see it. Underwear. Better. Much better. 
 Boxers? Silk? Cotton? Black boxer briefs. Oh yeah. I 
 like that. I can see his image clearly now. Lying 
 sprawled out on his couch, sleeping on his back, his 
 upper body covered in the thin sheen of sweat he 
 develops when he is in slumber, the Indian blanket 
 tangled around his legs. 
  
 Once he has set the scene his voice lowers. God it's 
 hypnotic. He's bound. He's blindfolded. He pauses for a 
 moment to let this sink in. To test the waters. Am I 
 offended? Disgusted? I can hear his questions in the 
 silence. I let my own silence be an answer in itself. A 
 disoriented Mulder, waking up with a black silk sash 
 covering his eyes, his hands cuffed behind his back. 
 This is a fantasy of mine as well. How bizarre. How 
 unlikely. How completely unsurprising. 
  
 She has done this to him. She. Who is she? Is she a 
 stranger in this fantasy? A lover? Does he even know? 
 Does it even matter? I try to find my voice. My throat 
 is so dry I don't know if I can even ask. 
  
 "Do you know her?" I manage to choke out. He knows her. 
 He knows her well. Well enough to give her keys to his 
 apartment. I have keys to his apartment. It could be 
 me. In my mind it is. I suddenly imagine myself there, 
 pacing over him, looking at his body, witness to his 
 helplessness. I slip my hands under the waistband of my 
 pants and stroke myself through my panties. I can feel 
 the moisture pooling there, dripping down my legs. I 
 stifle a moan into the cushions of the couch. Why do I 
 bother? Not sure. I think part of me is still afraid to 
 acknowledge that we are actually doing this. 
  
 He continues. His fantasy woman whispers in his ear. 
 "Do you trust me?" Do you trust me. Of course. No 
 wonder Mulder has this fantasy. He needs to make love 
 to someone he trusts. He needs to know that he can be 
 completely at someone's mercy, to surrender control 
 entirely, and to know that person won't hurt him. To 
 know that she loves him enough not to take advantage of 
 his vulnerability. You are the only one I trust. So 
 many years have passed since he said that to me. I 
 never forgot it. And it's never changed. 
  
 "She runs her fingernails over by bare chest and my 
 shoulders. She touches me so lightly but it's enough to 
 turn me on. It's enough to make me hard." Hard. It 
 makes him hard. Oh Jesus. I can see it. I can see his 
 cock, pressing against the material of his underwear. I 
 pull my sweatpants down and remove them from my body. 
 My hand slips underneath my panties and finally come 
 into contact with my bare flesh. "She orders me to 
 stand up. I stagger to my feet and she leads me away 
 from the couch. I'm standing in the middle of the floor 
 and her hands slip under the waistband of my underwear. 
 I think she is going to touch me. I want her to touch 
 me. God Scully. I want it so bad." He is breathless, 
 panting out his words. Oh Mulder. So do I. Oh God let 
 me touch you. "But she doesn't." Dammit. "She pulls 
 them off and steps back. I can sense her staring at me. 
 Taking in every inch of flesh. Devouring me with her 
 eyes." 
  
 Devouring him with my eyes. I can see every angle and 
 every plane. Every ripple of every muscle. Standing 
 naked in his living room. Bound. Hard. That's the only 
 part I can't see. Having no first hand knowledge of his 
 erect penis I have to use my imagination. And I do. I 
 am generous. 
  
 "You wanna know what she does next?" 
  
 Please. Oh please. "Yeah" 
  
 "She grabs my shoulders and pushes me down to my knees 
 in front of her. I can smell her. God I can practically 
 taste her already. She must be naked there." I pull my 
 panties off. "I want to taste her. She digs her nails 
 into my hair and pulls me to her, burying my face 
 between her legs. Oh God she tastes so good. So wet...I 
 slide my tongue through her folds. All around, in and 
 out of her. I know how she likes it. All I wanna do is 
 please her. Make her feel so good that she can't even 
 stand anymore. She cries out and grinds herself into my 
 face. She starts to tremble as I flick my tongue back 
 and forth over her clit, faster and faster." Oh God. 
 Oh my fucking God. I start to flick my index finger 
 over my clit. If I concentrate on his voice hard enough 
 it actually becomes his tongue. 
  
 "It makes me so hot to be doing this to her. I wanna 
 touch myself so bad. My cock is pulsing...I'm shaking 
 so hard. But I'm bound so tight, I can't do anything 
 but lick her sweetness. She's gasping and clutching my 
 head and...God I can tell you're about to come." You? 
 You're about to come? Did he say that? Am I 
 hallucinating? "I wanna make you come." Oh my God. He 
 wants to make me come. I am almost there. 
  
 "Oh...Mulder" 
  
 "But she doesn't let me. She pushes me away." She 
 again. I whimper in disappointment and frustration. 
 It's back to her. She is leading him to the kitchen 
 chair. She is tying his ankles to the legs. But it's 
 me. I know that now. In both of our minds it is me. 
  
 "She stands behind me and starts licking my ear. I try 
 to turn my head to get closer to her lips, her sweet 
 lips. I want them. I need to kiss them. I need to kiss 
 you. She lets me but only for a minute, only long 
 enough to taste herself on my lips and tongue." I bring 
 my fingers from myself and kiss them, suck on them. For 
 a moment they are Mulder's lips. God he must not even 
 realize what he's saying. 
  
  "She whispers in my ear, asks me if I want her to fuck 
 me. But she knows that I do. She knows how bad I want 
 her. How much I need her, to be inside her..." We both 
 moan simultaneously at the thought of it. "She runs her 
 hands over me...I can't tell where she is anymore. All 
 I feel is her fingers stroking my skin, so lightly. God 
 I want more. More Scully, God please...more." He 
 whimpers desperately. Oh Mulder. I want to give you 
 more. I want to give you everything. 
  
 "I feel her tongue running over my skin, tasting me 
 everywhere. So good...feels so good..." He grunts into 
 the phone. I can't believe this. I can't fucking 
 believe this. The noises he is making, his voice. I 
 don't think anything has ever turned me on as much as 
 this. For the first time I allow myself to imagine him 
 for real. To picture him there in his apartment. 
 Touching himself. The way that I am. 
  
 "Finally I feel her tongue swirl around the head of my 
 cock. So good Scully. So good. I need more. I try to 
 move, to jerk into your mouth but I can't, I'm tied so 
 tight. And then she's gone and I...I don't know where 
 she is and I'm scared because what if she left...what 
 if she left me like that but I know you wouldn't 
 Scully. I know it in my heart. And do you know why?" 
  
 Because you trust me. Because you know I would never 
 leave you. Because you know I love you. She returns to 
 him. Her again. She is on top of him. Finally. Finally 
 he is inside her. And she is sliding up and down his 
 cock, slowly, so slowly. I slip one then two fingers 
 inside me and move them in and out at an agonizing 
 pace. 
  
 "She's so hot and so tight, so fucking good. I want to 
 move, I wanna go deeper, harder, but I can't. I start 
 to beg, please, please Scully, let me move so that I 
 can pound into you the way I need to, the way you want 
 me to..." 
  
 I want that. Yes I want that. I moan and call out his 
 name, clutching the receiver tightly to my ear. 
  
 "She starts to move faster herself. God 
 Scully..harder..faster...like that." 
  
 I start pounding my fingers inside and grind my palm 
 against myself. 
  
 "I need to see her face when she comes Scully. I beg 
 her to take off the blindfold, to let me see her. She 
 knows what I want. She always knows what I want. She 
 slides her fingers under the cloth and then there is 
 brightness and confusion and then I see...God you're so 
 beautiful Scully. So fucking beautiful." 
  
 I am close. Holy Jesus I am so close. 
  
 His next word pour out in a frenzied torrent, "You kiss 
 me again, and again and you scream into my mouth and... 
 and you are starting to tremble, to move faster and 
 your hands are all over me and you're tightening around 
 me and I...I..." 
  
 What Mulder? What? He stops for a moment and I am close 
 to tears. I am gonna come. Any second. My whole body is 
 shaking and I can't even keep my eyes open anymore. I 
 am starting to see a kaleidoscope of colors in my 
 eyelids, dancing light everywhere. God Mulder don't 
 stop now. 
  
 And then he asks me. Where I am. What I am doing. What 
 I'm wearing. He makes it real. He makes it not a 
 fantasy. He makes it us, here and now, making love to 
 each other over the phone. 
  
 I manage to stutter out that I am on the living room 
 floor, in nothing but a T-shirt, touching myself as he 
 talks to me. That I am wet, that I am about to come. 
 Any second. Jesus. 
  
 I beg him to tell me about himself. What he's doing. 
  
 "I'm on the couch, with my head resting on the 
 cushions. I'm in jeans and nothing else." Perfect. Oh 
 God that's perfect. "They're unbuttoned and I'm 
 stroking my cock Scully, for you, I'm so...I'm so hard 
 for you...so hot" his voice breaks into a trembling 
 moan and I can hardly stand anymore. I am going to die, 
 right here, right now, on this phone. He whispers 
 raggedly "I wanna be in you so bad...so bad..." His 
 words send shivers racing over my entire body but 
 centering in the pulsing bundle of nerves that is about 
 to explode. 
  
 "Mulder...I'm gonna come" I manage to gasp out a 
 warning. 
  
 "Oh God..me too...me too Scully. God yeah..come for me. 
 Please come for me...I wanna hear it. Let me hear you 
 come." 
  
 I want him. Oh my God how I want him. I want him here. 
 I need him here. My hand is enough to bring me release 
 but it isn't enough to fill me. Not any more. I need 
 him. 
  
 As if he has heard my thoughts Mulder cries out a 
 response. The sound of his need, of his impending 
 climax sets my hips to lifting off the ground, rotating 
 blindly in the air, reaching out for him. 
  
 I try to tell him this but I am more or less 
 incoherent. He seems to understand though. He calls to 
 me. 
  
 "Go with it baby. God...yeah. Come with me...come for 
 me. Come Scully...come on..." 
  
 My hand is a complete blur of blinding motion against 
 myself. I bite down on my lip hard enough to draw 
 blood. 
  
 "Scully...Scully...I'm throbbing, burning, Scully I'm 
 on fire. So close...so close. Love. You." 
  
 The entire world collapses in on itself and I am 
 jerking frantically into my hand, my whole body 
 practically levitating off the floor, my voice calling 
 out incoherent gibberish that even I cannot understand. 
  
 And then I hear him, screaming my name, screaming his 
 love, and I see him, in my mind's eye, trembling, 
 sweating, eyes squeezed shut, mouth open wide, 
 coming...for me. 
  
 Love. Me. He loves me. I knew this. I've known this for 
 some time. But knowing it and hearing him say it as he 
 comes are two entirely different things. 
  
 I lay still in a pool of my own moisture for several 
 minutes, panting, recovering, listening to him do the 
 same. When the frenzy of the moment finally passes I 
 start to feel a flicker of panic. What just happened 
 here? What the hell just happened? What does it mean? 
 What are we now? What the hell are we going to do? 
  
 I've imagined our first sexual experience countless 
 times, in countless ways. I have to say this has never 
 been one of them. Does this even count as a sexual 
 experience? We haven't even touched. Just words. It's 
 just words. 
  
 But words are important. A word, properly uttered, at 
 the right time, in the right place, can be a caress. I 
 learned this from Mulder a long time ago. And these 
 words...God...what have we done? 
  
 "Mulder what...what the hell did we just do?" 
  
 He informs me that we just had phone sex. Or at least 
 that's what he thinks we did. Well, that's a big 
 fucking help. I think I managed to figure that much out 
 on my own Mulder. But I laugh. I laugh because he is 
 such a wise ass and so damn sweet about it and because 
 I am happy and dizzy and confused and because I still 
 feel almost high from this entire experience. And then 
 he asks me if I liked it. In such a shy and desperate 
 way and I fall in love with him all over again. How 
 could I not like it? I am still laughing when I tell 
 him to figure that out for himself. 
  
 Suddenly he is deadly serious. Suddenly he tells me 
 "I want to come over there Scully." and my world 
 collapses again. Over here? He wants to come over here. 
 I look down at my damp hand resting on my leg. That 
 could be his hand. Not just in my mind, or in his mind, 
 but in reality. Tonight. In about forty-five minutes. 
 Half an hour if he speeds, which I am sure he will. 
  
 Is that really what I want? Is it really what he wants? 
 Or are we both just feeling like it is because of what 
 we just did? I didn't expect this. I didn't plan for 
 this. Not tonight. I'm not ready. Am I? 
  
 Christ woman it's been five goddamn years. How much 
 more ready do you have to get? Did I really think I'd 
 ever be more ready? I don't know. I just feel like it's 
 happening so fast, spinning out of control. 
  
 "Mulder I'm not sure..." 
  
 "Scully the things you said...when you came...you 
 said..." He drifts off and I am left to wonder. What 
 exactly did I say? I haven't a clue. Probably that I 
 wanted him to come over. Because I did. And I do. But I 
 am afraid. 
  
 "Scully I'm coming over. I'm coming over now." And then 
 he is gone. I am holding a dead reciever in my hand and 
 I am left with the knowledge that he is on his way over 
 here whether I like it or not. And I still haven't 
 decided. 
  
 I sit in a state of near shock, completely motionless, 
 still holding the damn telephone to my ear, for a long 
 time. I don't even know how long. He's coming over. 
 Now. Right now. After awhile I start to realize that I 
 should get off the floor and put some fucking pants on. 
  
 I manage to put the phone down and stand on shaking 
 legs. I start to pull on the panties and sweatpants I 
 was wearing before but realize they are soaked with my 
 juices. Better head to the closet. 
  
 As I clean myself off a bit and find new clothes my 
 fear over Mulder's impending arrival starts to give way 
 to excitement. Then giddiness. Then back to fear. As I 
 am lapsing back into excitement the phone rings. It's 
 him. It's got to be. Telling me what? That he's changed 
 his mind? He's not coming. It was temporary insanity. 
 The thought and the devastation it causes in me makes 
 me see just how badly I do want him to come over. 
  
 I pick up the phone with nervous trepidation. 
  
 "Hello." 
  
 "Scully, I...I know I wasn't supposed to call you this 
 weekend..." He is such a dead man. "But I was kind of 
 wondering if maybe you had some fantasies of your own 
 you felt like talking about." 
  
 "Who is this?" 
  
 "Scully?" He sounds terrified for a moment. What a 
 schmuck. I laugh at both his eagerness and his 
 silliness. 
  
 "Mulder I hope you're not talking on the phone while 
 you're driving. You know the statistics..." 
  
 "Yeah I know the statistics Scully. So you know if you 
 don't have any off the top of your head, I've got 
 plenty I'd like to get off my chest." 
  
 "I'm sure you do. Just get your little butt over here 
 in one piece." 
  
 "My butt huh? That's a good place to start..." 
  
 "Mulder I'm hanging up now." 
  
 "But it's such a long drive Scully." 
  
 "Mulder you don't even wanna know the fatality 
 statistics for phone sex while driving. Pretty scary 
 stuff." 
  
 "Scully..." He is whining. Why can't I wipe this goofy 
 grin off my face? "Scully you didn't put pants on did 
 you?" 
  
 "Just get over here Mulder. And slow down." 
  
 "I'll slow down if you tell me one. Come on Scully. 
 Just a quickie. Please." 
  
 How can I resist when he sounds so pathetic? 
  
 "Well Mulder, since you asked, I've got a long standing 
 fantasy involving you and me and that blue Taurus and a 
 blow job..." As I speak I can hear the blaring horns 
 and the screeching brakes in Mulder's wake and I know 
 that he will be here very soon. And that we will 
 finally be able to bring life to our fantasies in more 
 than just words. 
  
  
 End part II 
 You're gonna have to use your imagination for the rest :)