Title: Near Misses By: afg - www.ofnoconsequence.com Rating: NC17 Category: Smut, Humor, Angst Spoilers: Three Of A Kind Disclaimer: Not mine and no money is being made. Thanks: To Tali, for the judicious use of the cudgel and to Angie, for the entertainment. Feedback: Yes please. siggy.63@btinternet.com Summary: Frohike gets lucky. Scully gets worry lines. Notes: Written for Fando's Season Six Smut Challenge. Las Vegas, Nevada Melvin Frohike, pint sized road warrior of the technological super highway, was, at this very moment, having one of the most exciting sexual encounters of his life. There was just one small problem. He was having it with a seriously hammered Special Agent named Dana Scully. Despite his non-conformist good looks, Frohike had never been lacking in female companionship. Admittedly, many of the ladies he'd consorted with of late went by the name of Lulu or Trixie and they'd required remuneration for services rendered. However, he still felt he could hold his own in female company. Right now though, he most definitely was not holding his own, Scully was. After dragging her away from the swarm of leering men at the bar, the walk to the lifts had gone almost without incident. She did try to molest a bellboy, who made a hasty retreat, as Frohike managed to interpose himself between the startled youth and his rapacious companion. She had trailed behind him with a girlish pout until she spied a security guard and Frohike, was only just able to shove her into a lift before she instigated an incident, which might have been frowned on by The Powers That Be at the FBI. Unfortunately, he discovered his mistake too late. With nothing to distract her, Scully turned her attention to the only male available, him. "'hike, I'm sooo hot," she whined most un-Scully like, sidling towards him and undoing yet another button on her already gaping blouse. "Yeah, well we'll be out of here in a second," he said nervously. Scully pressed up against him and put her hands on his chest. "No, I mean I'm hot," she clarified. Giggling, she tried to kiss him. "Scully stop it," he said trying to push her off. "Come on, Scully, what the hell are you doing?" In his, admittedly, rather feeble attempts to untangle himself from her, he somehow managed to get his leg trapped between hers and he watched in fascinated horror as her skirt rode up and she began to ride his thigh while at the same time insinuating her hands under his leather jacket. "'hike, baby, you know you want me," she purred as her lips traveled over his red face. Frohike was beginning to feel like a fillet steak in a lion's cage, as she began to rub herself provocatively against his chest and nip at his neck. This wasn't fair. He'd loved Dana Scully from afar for years and now that she had him cornered and was practically devouring him he had to discover that he had scruples. "For Gods sake, Agent Scully, get a grip. What would Agent Mulder say?" He'd begun to sound like Miss McCafferty his old, in more ways than one, History teacher; one look from her steely grey eyes could shrivel a libidinous schoolboy's scrotum faster than a bucket of ice water. "Mulder's not here though is he, and you're so cute." Her busy hand started to move south. Frohike let out a girlish yelp as her hand grasped his dick and began to squeeze slowly. "Right, that's quite enough of that," he was going for a deep authoritative tone but he ended up sounding like Julie Andrews in the 'Sound Of Music' as he finally made a more concerted effort to get away, slapping madly at her wandering hands and shoving at her shoulders. He was literally saved by the bell, as, with a jaunty 'ding', the lift doors opened to the disapproving glare of several members of the Des Moines Women's Choral Society. The women watched, stony faced as the flushed couple in the elevator adjusted their clothing and shuffled out with Scully giggling like a loon and Frohike muttering "So sorry ladies." as he dragged his almost paramour behind him. Frohike had never been so relieved to get Scully back in the hotel room and among reinforcements. He realized he'd missed a golden opportunity for some serious Scully action but was strangely proud of himself for not having taken advantage of her in such an impaired state. Especially when he'd discovered what had caused the impairment. Thankfully, she would remember absolutely nothing of the encounter and he would never breathe a word. It would just be a fond, yet strangely terrifying, memory that he would carry with him for the rest of his days. Three weeks later, The Shady Pines Inn, Washington State. Scully was to her surprise having fond thoughts of the Lone Gunmen. They'd made a rather lovely conciliatory gesture by booking her and her partner into this very pleasant country inn for a romantic weekend away. She, of course, realized that they'd only done it to forestall a serious ass kicking by her good self, but, none the less it had been a nice thing to do. Speaking of nice things. Mulder was currently doing very nice things to her as she lay in the big and luxuriously comfortable four- poster bed. His tongue was circling her puckered and aching nipples as her fingers ran through his soft chestnut hair. "Mmm, Scully, I could get used to this." He murmured against her skin, as he started to make his way down her body kissing and nipping her flesh as he went. "You're just getting soft in your old age, that's all. God, that feels so good." She started to writhe as Mulder's tongue made a pit stop at her navel. She loved it when he did that. "I really don't think soft is the word." He said, as he suddenly pulled himself up and covered her with his body. "Oh yeah, maybe you're right." "They kissed languorously, their tongues dancing with each other, as their hips set the tempo. Scully had a sudden urge to be in the driving seat; grinning, she deftly flipped them and with a happy sigh, slid slowly down his length. "Smooth move, Agent Scully." "I've got a million of 'em, Agent Mulder." "Guess what? So do I," he slipped his fingers down to where they were joined and lightly strummed her clit, smiling as her back arched in pleasure. "Ah yes, I like that one, but can you do this?" She tightened her internal muscles on his cock on every down stroke. "God, no, I can't do that," Mulder groaned, "but this might be interesting," he suddenly pinched one of her nipples and simultaneously thrust up, hard. Scully threw back her head and groaned as she rode out the sudden and exceedingly sweet orgasm. She managed to keep up her rhythm as she felt Mulder bucking frantically as he hurtled towards his own release. Exhausted, she collapsed over him and they lay together panting. "We're really getting the hang of this sex thing now, don't you think, Scully?" Mulder said breathlessly. "We're not bad, but we shouldn't become complacent. I hate to resort to clichés, however, practice does make perfect." "Can we practice after a nap, Scully? I think you've worn me out." "Okay, sleep sounds good. I just hope I don't have that damn stupid dream again," she said, frowning. "What? The one were you're in the middle of the FBI building in the nude?" "No, the other one." "Oh, the one were you're attempting to molest Frohike?" Mulder started to chuckle. "Yeah, but it feels so real though, it's weird." "I wouldn't worry Scully," Mulder said, yawning. "I reckon it's a form of psychic transference. You're picking up Frohike's dreams. It's a documented phenomena." "Mulder, that's ridiculous." "Well, it's more believable than you getting the horn for Frohike." "That's very true. Just this once, I might have to agree with you." "Quick, get me a camera, I want to capture the moment." "Oh, go to sleep, Mulder." "Sweet dreams of sugarplum Frohikes, Scully." "I'm getting my gun." "G'night, Scully." The end.