TITLE: Wet Dreams
AUTHOR: Caroline (a.k.a. scullybabe626)
E-MAIL: willows626@yahoo.com
DISTRIBUTION: VSS homepage, Gossamer, anywhere else ask
first.
RATING: NC-17
CATEGORIES: V, R
KEYWORDS: MSR, Post-Ep, Smut, Scully POV
SPOILERS: Arcadia, One Son, FTF, Triangle, Cancer arc
SUMMARY: Mulder and Scully's second night in the Falls at
Arcadia, between the moment when Scully kicks Mulder out
of the bedroom, and when Mulder is putting the flamingo
in the yard: "Bring it on."
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Mulder, Scully, or anything else
pertaining to the X-Files (save for the DVD box-sets-
those are *mine*!). Mulder and Scully are property of
Chris Carter, as well as David Duchovny and Gillian
Anderson.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I swear, the story's not as dirty as the
title makes it seem. Oh yeah, and this is for
Fandomonium's Virtual Season of Smut, Season Six-my first
stab at the challenge, and my attempt to bring something
different to Arcadia smut. Enjoy, and as always, feedback
feeds the MSR plot bunnies.
MORE AUTHOR'S NOTES: Mac and Em, I love you both for being my 'unofficial' betas. You rule.

*****

I hate this case. That's all I can say at this point to
sum up the experience thus-far. I hate this case. My face
hurts from having to smile so much, Mulder's been teasing
me mercilessly... not to mention my left hand is heavier
than it usually is because of the damn wedding ring, and
is therefore throwing off my equilibrium.

But mostly it's Mulder's fault that I hate this case.
He's enjoying himself far too much in this little
scenario. I don't know if he's being overly affectionate
to make up for the whole Diana mess, or if it's because
we're supposed to be newlyweds, or what. He's confusing
the hell out of me.

His little affectionate gestures are both irritating and
arousing. I can't focus. I'm sure I've been an icy bitch
ever since we got here, but that's the only way I know
how to deal with this. It's the only way I can stay
level-headed where he's concerned. The Ice Queen exterior
slips out and pushes him away until it's safe to be
myself again.

Not that I can actually be myself on this case, anyway.
No, I have to be Laura. Laura Petrie, like the dish,
Mulder says. And he's Rob, Laura's doting husband that
works at home so Laura can have him all to herself.
Jesus.

It's our second night here in the Falls at Arcadia, and
in that time, Mulder has had his arm around my waist,
around my shoulders... he's had his hand on my back more
times in the past forty-eight hours than he has in our
entire partnership... oh, and he's tried to kiss me. I
didn't let him, of course.

Not that I didn't want to. Kissing Mulder has been
constantly in the forefront of my thoughts, probably
since our partnership began. It's those lips. But the
situation was all wrong. We were in the company of Cami
and Win Shroeder, our dolphin-safe tuna-buying neighbors.
We were playing a part. It would have been Rob and Laura
sharing a kiss, not Mulder and Scully. And if I'm going
to kiss him, I'm going to do it as Dana Scully.

But that little attempt at a kiss pales in comparison to
what he tried to do earlier tonight. We were getting
ready for bed... well, I was, while he putzed around on the
computer and prattled on about the case... and he, after
removing his shirt and giving me a nice glimpse of his
toned stomach, flopped down on 'our' bed. I knew this
meant trouble, so when I went back into the bathroom, I
put on my mask... my moss-green, eucalyptus and spearmint
mud mask... as a way of preventing whatever advances I knew
my partner would make.

And sure enough, when I came out of the bathroom, mask
and all, he patted the mattress beside him and beckoned
me over with a brief waggle of his eyebrows. I can still
hear his damn, smug and seductive, "Come Laura, I mean...
we're married now."

So now here I am, lying in Rob and Laura's bed, the mud
mask I'd put on earlier washed clean... and I'm wide awake.
Mulder is downstairs on the couch, probably fast asleep,
damn him.

But then again, maybe not. Are those his footsteps coming
up the stairs? It had better be; my gun's all the way on
the other side of the room. Sure enough, I hear the door
to the master bedroom creak open and see Mulder's form
silhouetted in the hallway. Then his whisper floats to
me, uncertain as if checking my state of consciousness.
"Scully?"

I don't respond verbally, but rather sit up in bed and
lean against the headboard, using a nod of my head to bid
him entrance. He obeys, shutting the door behind him,
although I'm not sure why. It's only the two of us in
this big house-it's not as if anyone's going to intrude.

"I couldn't sleep," he confesses, still whispering as he
strides quickly over to the bed. He pats the mattress
near the foot of the bed, and even in the darkness I can
see the slow rise of his eyebrows, silently asking
permission. I nod in acquiesce and he takes a seat,
tucking one foot under him on the mattress while keeping
the other on the floor, angling his body to face me.

I don't dare mention the fact that I couldn't sleep,
either. If he can't make that deduction on his own,
judging by the fact that I'm still wide awake, then I'm
not going to help him out. So I just stare at him,
waiting for him to go on. I see his head tilt downward
and I grow concerned. I lean forward slightly to better
see him in the dull glow of moonlight. "Mulder?"

"Scully, I feel I should apologize for the way I've been
acting on this case," he dives right in, nervously
picking at imaginary fuzz on the comforter. "You're
right-I'm not taking this case as seriously as I should,
and I'm sorry if some of my behavior has made you
uncomfortable."

I feel my jaw grow slack as one eyebrow arches high above
the other. Excuse me? Not only is Mulder *apologizing*
for his behavior... he's telling me I'm *right* too?
"Mulder..."

He chuffs just slightly, as if reading my thoughts. "I
know, Fox Mulder makes an apology. It's an X-File in
itself." He either can't see my smile in the dark or
ignores it, and presses on. "But I am sorry. If anything,
I should be making up for the trouble I caused with the
whole..." He trails off, making a circular motion with his
wrist. He then shrugs and finishes sheepishly, "Well, you
know." He sighs. "And instead of making up for what I
did, I've been creating an even bigger mess between us,
and for that I'm sorry."

"Mulder..." I lean forward and reach out to him, unable to
stop myself. I still want to be furious with him, but the
vulnerability in his tone tugs at me. He's being sincere.

He grasps the hand I reach out to him and squeezes it,
sliding a little closer to me. "I want us to be okay,
Scully," he tells me, "I want to get back what we had."
His voice then grows nearly inaudible as he adds, "I want
to feel like a whole person again."

With that statement, I have to force back the tears. I
still vividly remember that day last summer, when I was
on my way out of the Bureau and out of his life, that he
practically chased me down and nearly yelled his
confession that I made him a whole person.

"Only you can do that for me, Scully," he continues. "Not
Diana, not anybody else. And I'm so sorry that my
stubbornness has put a rift between us."

Before I know what's happening, his arms are around me.
His lips dust my cheek before he nuzzles his own cheek
against it. "You mean so much to me, Scully, and I don't
want to lose you. I can't. I came close enough to it a
year ago and very nearly snapped. I don't think I could
live through the real thing."

Mulder can't live without me, is that what he's saying? I
wrap my arms tighter around him in response and feel
something wet against my cheek. A tear? No, it felt
heavier than a tear. There was more pressure than a
simple teardrop.

And then I feel it again. Mulder is... licking my face?
What the-"Mulder?"

"Scully..."

I can still feel it. What the hell is he doing? "Mulder..."
Something warm and rough and wet is sliding against my
cheek.

"Scully... Scully?"

**

"Scully."

My eyes flutter open, settling on Mulder's face hovering
inches above mine, slightly to the side. I shove him away
and sit up quickly, suddenly wanting to smack the amused
smirk off his face. I grab one of the pillows and hug it
to my chest, putting a barrier between my partner and
myself. "Mulder, what the hell are you doing?"

He glances down at the object in his hands and I follow
his gaze, settling on a damp, white washcloth, stained
with moss-green. Mulder was... washing my face? "Mulder?"

"Sorry, Scully. I couldn't sleep, and I came up here to
see if you were still awake. When I saw you with that mud
mask still on, I just... thought I'd help you out and wash
it off for you."

I reach up and swipe at my face, feeling little bits of
the hardened mask against my face in some places, smooth
skin in others. "Oh." I'm still eyeing him warily,
forehead creased in what I hope doesn't look like a
glare.

He chuckles nervously and looks down at the washcloth
again. "Y'know, you're lucky this didn't rub off on the
sheets. The ones you brought looked pretty expensive."

"They are."

He notices my clipped tone, but immediately mistakes it
for irritation rather than confusion. "Scully, I'm sorry,
I shouldn't have come in here. I'll go back downstairs."

When he moves to rise off the bed, I reach out and grab
his arm, tugging on the sleeve of his gray tee-shirt to
pull him back down. "No Mulder, it's okay. I'm sorry. I'm
just a little disoriented."

"So I noticed."

I smile. "Well, you *did* wake me from a dream."

I see him raise his eyebrows in the darkness. "Dare I
hope it was a sex dream about me?"

I can't help but chuckle. "Keep hoping." I then pause,
the scientist in me considering the possibility of what's
just occurred. "Mulder, did you..." I clear my throat and
focus my gaze on the washcloth. "When you were just
washing the mask off my face, were you talking to me?"

He immediately seems to tense up. "I thought you were
sleeping."

"I was. I was dreaming, even. But, in my dream, you were
talking to me."

"About what?"

Don't, Dana, my brain tells me. There's no telling if he
was actually talking to you while you were sleeping or
not, so just keep your mouth shut and don't make an ass
out of yourself. "Nothing," I sigh dejectedly.

He nods, and though I can't be certain, I think I see a
flash of disappointment in his eyes. "Okay. Goodnight,
Scully."

When he moves to get up again, I watch him sadly. How the
hell long are we going to keep dancing around this? I
toss the pillow aside and reach for his arm again.
"Mulder, wait. Sit."

He complies and sits beside me, depositing the washcloth
in the small dish of water he, apparently, had set on the
nightstand earlier. Warmth spreads through my body from
the place where our hips are touching, and I fight to
keep my voice steady. "In my dream, you were
apologizing..." I hold his gaze in a silent attempt to get
my point across as I add, "For everything."

He nods slowly, knowingly. "Diana?"

"Among other things." I watch as he reaches over and
grabs the washcloth from the dish once more, wringing it
out before holding it in his hand, glancing at it every
so often. "Mulder, you were telling me how much you
missed what we used to have. Before Diana, before the X-
Files was shut down, maybe even before the cancer."

His gaze snaps to mine at the mention of the 'c' word...
yet another thing we've left unresolved. So much changed
between us when I had cancer; so much happened between
us, and nearly happened, that we never spoke of again
after the cancer went into remission. I reach for his
hand, still holding his gaze. "Mulder, you told me you
missed being a whole person."

I don't even have to ask, now. He can read the question
in my eyes, in the lines on my forehead, for he smiles
warmly. "I *was* talking to you, Scully-about all of
that. I do miss what we used to have. I miss feeling like
a whole person. I miss feeling like you trust me."

"Mulder, I do trust you," I whisper. "Implicitly. It was
your trust in *me* that vanished."

"Will you ever forgive me for that?"

"Eventually," I reply honestly. "Right now, it still
hurts quite a bit, but eventually, yes. I know I can
forgive you."

"I am so sorry, Scully." His arms are around me again,
for real this time, and we embrace warmly for moments on
end, hands stroking each other's backs.

When we pull away, he's got a beautiful, serene smile on
his face, eyes twinkling in the moonlight, and he settles
me back against the headboard before gliding the
washcloth over my face. I smile and close my eyes at the
sensation, chuckling just slightly when I remember what
had happened in my dream. I hear Mulder echo that chuckle
as he enquires, "What's so funny?"

"I felt you washing my face in my dream," I murmur, "Only
in the dream, I thought you were licking me."

At this, he laughs. "Well, I'm not going to lie to you,
Scully. Your face smells so good, I *did* consider it for
a moment. Are you sure you didn't use toothpaste on your
face?"

"Yes, I'm sure, Mulder. It's eucalyptus and spearmint
rejuvenating mud mask. It's supposed to smell minty."

He gives a low whistle. "Who knew Agent Scully could be
so girly?"

I feel myself smirking at the flirty tone of his voice,
and am powerless to stop the reply that rolls off my
tongue. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Mulder."

"Apparently." I feel him nodding at me, and I smile a
little wider, already knowing what he's going to say. "I
never figured a dapper dresser such as you would own
something as hideous as that nightgown, after all."

I giggle. Is it the washcloth against my face that's
making me feel so heady? Or is it the fact that he's been
moving closer to me, inch by inch? "I picked this out
special for the case... Rob."

"Well, I don't know whether to be flattered or put off...
Laura." I can feel him grinning now. "We're supposed to
be newlyweds, after all. If anything, you should've
picked out a teddy."

I chuff. "Right. You'd just love that, wouldn't you
Mulder?"

"Absolutely. Dana Scully in red lace? Are you kidding
me?"

"Why red?" I question, feeling emboldened by the line of
conversation.

Without hesitation, without so much as even taking a
breath, he replies, "The color would complement your hair
and enhance your eyes."

"Oh really?" So he's given this some thought, then? "So
you've imagined me in this red lace teddy before?"

"I--" he pauses, mouth hanging open, and I smile
triumphantly. Caught you, Mulder. He turns slowly to dip
the washcloth in the dish of water again, wringing it out
before bringing it back to my face. "I... never said
that."

"Oh, I know." I'm sure I'm probably smirking like a
buffoon right now, but I don't care. "You sure as hell
implied it, though."

He shrugs. "So maybe I've pictured you in a teddy before.
So what? I'm a red-blooded American male, Scully." He
gives me an appreciative up-and-down glance, one that
incites shivers within me--in a good way. There's nothing
perverse in his expression, nothing to cause alarm...
just pure appreciation. "And to say the very least,
you're a gorgeous woman. So you can't exactly fault me
for indulging in a few harmless fantasies."

I quirk an eyebrow at this. "Harmless fantasies, huh?
Care to enlighten me, Mulder?" I don't know why I'm being
so bold. It's bound to get me into trouble, and I'll
probably regret being so flirtatious in the morning. Stop
now, Dana, while you still can.

I get a shocked look in return from my partner, my
boldness having stunned the both of us. He then chuckles,
sweeping the washcloth over my face before returning it
to the dish, rinsing some of the green stain before once
more wringing it out. "Isn't it enough that I mentioned
the lace teddy?" he asks softly, "Or do you want me to go
into more detail?"

He slides a little closer to me on the bed, and the
temperature in the room spikes by about twenty degrees.
His gaze burns me, and my heart bumps up into my throat
with a realization--those are Mulder's 'bedroom' eyes.
His voice drops to a bass timbre as he continues, "Do you
want me to tell you that I've fantasized about this
face?" He sweeps the washcloth over my face. "About this
body?" His free hand finds my hip.

I gulp. "Mulder..."

"Do you want me to count off all the times I've dreamt
about your lips?" He glides first the washcloth over my
lips, followed by his thumb. "About kissing your lips?
About feeling them all over my body?" He's now so close
his breath hits my lips, wracking my body with shivers.

"God yes," I hear myself whisper, and that's the moment
everything becomes a blur.

Mulder's lips cover mine and I somehow wind up on my
back. His body blankets me and presses me into the
mattress. I feel myself parting my legs to allow him to
settle between my thighs, and I moan, his arousal hitting
just the right spot. His tongue begins to flirt with my
lips and I know what he wants--I open my lips and comply,
the feeling of our tongues twining together exquisite.

His left hand finds my right knee and glides upward to my
thigh, bunching the ugly nightgown up as he goes. "I hate
this nightgown, Scully," he whispers, moving his kisses
to my neck.

I grab his face and bring it back up to mine, biting down
on his lip as I growl, "I'll bring a teddy next time."

The fierce kiss I lay on him swallows his groan as our
tongues tangle, and when he breaks away, he chuckles
breathlessly. "Don't tease me." His lips once more find
my neck and trail downward, sucking on the skin where my
neck and shoulder meet.

I feel my body jerk involuntarily at the sensation,
tingles shooting in every direction from my center. "I'm
not," I manage to whisper back, and I mean it. If I can
get this kind reaction out of him in this ugly nightgown,
I can't even begin to imagine the kind of treatment I'll
get wearing a teddy. Hell, I'll wear a teddy under every
one of my suits if I can get this treatment from him when
the work day's over.

"God Scully, I want you so bad," he moans, and when I
feel his hand trembling against my thigh, I realize this
is his way of asking for permission. To stop or not to
stop, Scully, that trembling hand seems to say. It's your
call.

The rational part of me... the part that is Special Agent
Scully... knows I should push him away, send him back
down to the couch, and never speak of this incident
again--to just file it away with all of our other
experiments in toeing-the-line. Yet the other part of
me... the part that is strictly Dana Scully, the woman...
wants Mulder more than I've ever wanted anyone in my
life--and it's that part of me that bubbles up and shoves
Agent Scully aside. "Don't stop, Mulder... please don't
stop."

A shaky breath is expelled against my neck in what I can
only imagine is relief, and his now-smiling mouth kisses
down my shoulder. His tongue flicks across my collarbone
as his long, nimble fingers move to unbutton the mere
three buttons on my hideous nightgown. I wonder what he'd
do if I told him the whole reason I bought this nightgown
was to ward him off.

I don't have much more time to ponder that notion,
however, as his hands begin frantically shimmying the
nightgown up my body. I sit up to accommodate him,
meeting his smiling eyes when he pulls the nightgown over
my head and tosses it behind him, a silent agreement
flowing between us. This is going to change everything.
My stomach cartwheels at the thought.

Our lips then find each other again as he lowers me back
down onto the mattress, his warm hands seeking out my
breasts like target missiles. Under different
circumstances, I'd probably laugh at his speed, but right
now, what he's doing feels too damn good. His mouth
follows his hands, those delicious, pouted lips closing
around my nipple and suckling gently.

The volume of my gasp shocks us both, and my back arches
off the bed to meet him as he continues, his hands
gliding down my body to rub me through my rapidly-
dampening panties. With a barely audible 'pop,' he
releases my breast and trails his mouth down the center
of my body, pressing heated, open-mouthed kisses around
my navel before continuing downward.

One finger dips beneath the waistband of my panties and
glides back and forth teasingly, while he raises his eyes
to mine in question. I hold his gaze and nod, unable to
give any kind of a coherent verbal response, and with a
smile, he looks down to watch himself remove my
underwear. My eyes follow the arc my underwear make in
the air when he tosses them over his shoulder, but I'm
unable to watch where they land as his mouth finds its
way between my legs and my eyes snap shut.

"Oh, Mulder!" My God, that's a talented mouth. Bless
those sunflower seeds he's always munching on. And, it's
either been awhile, or it's just the fact that this is
Mulder doing this to me... maybe it's a little of both,
but... I find myself teetering at the edge rather
quickly. And Mulder knows. I can tell by the way he slows
his tongue, slows the motion of the two fingers that had
been pumping steadily in and out.

I whimper when he removes his hand and mouth from me,
though I deem the action as right. As badly as I want
that release he's so eager to give me, I won't have it
for the first time unless he's inside me. And he
obviously shares my thoughts, for he kisses his way up my
body. When he presses his lips to mine and devours my
mouth in a deep, passionate kiss, I groan, tasting myself
on him. I then gasp when I feel him between my legs, the
tip of his arousal poised at my entrance.

He's questioning me with his eyes, so I answer him with
my own: I want it all, Mulder. Everything you have to
give and more. I want this night, this act, and
everything that goes along with it. Every positive and
negative consequence... I want it. I'm ready for it.
"Make love to me, Mulder," I whisper, cupping the back of
his neck and bringing his forehead down to meet my lips.

He lets out a shaky breath against my collarbone. "I love
you, Scully," he whispers back.

I know he does. I've known for awhile. Even before that
moment he lay drugged in the hospital, surrendering his
heart... I knew. And yet, my own confession remains stuck
in my throat. I feel the words, but can't say them. "Then
show me," I murmur against his skin, still peppering
errant kisses across his forehead and down the bridge of
his nose. "Love me."

With that, he guides himself inside, and after the first
few inches both our breaths catch in our throats. Our
hearts stop with that first penetration, only to begin
again in synch when he slides the rest of the way home,
his body sinking into mine. We lay still, entwined--
holding each other while keeping our eyes locked,
savoring the unity. We've been intimate before...
countless times, even... but not like this. Never like
this.

We've made love with our eyes, have shared intimacy with
the joining of our hands; we've united our minds and even
our souls, but never our bodies. And my God, does it feel
good. "So good," I hear myself gasp out, and Mulder nods
emphatically, beginning to move.

His pace starts out slow, almost tedious; he wants to
please me and make this last as long as possible. I'd
like that too, more than anything, but we've been
building to this point for six years. That's seventy-two-
plus months of foreplay. While we want it to last
forever, I think we both know this won't take long at
all. I rotate my hips in tandem with his and my name
rolls off his lips, like he's murmuring the name of a
deity.

I wrap my legs around his waist and lock my ankles,
pulling him deep within, and he takes the hint. His
strokes become longer, harder, beads of sweat forming on
his brow. He's never looked more gorgeous. When his hands
join the action, it becomes too much, and stars burst
behind my eyes, my body going rigid against his as the
waves of pleasure assail me.

Mulder is quick to follow, this time grunting my name in
a voice filled with lust while he spills inside me, both
of us then collapsing to the mattress. The room grows
silent save for our ragged breathing, both of our minds
cranking out possible consequences at a thousand miles an
hour. Agent Scully's trying to come back. Well, I don't
want her to. I rather like being Dana. "What was it you
were saying earlier about it being a good thing I didn't
stain the sheets?"

I must have shocked him, for he bursts into raucous
laughter, holding me tight. I can't help but join his
laughter, our voices filtering out into the night. "Oh
Scully," he sighs in mock seriousness a moment later,
"We're going to get into so much trouble. That *had* to
have been prohibited by the CC&Rs."

I find myself grinning at the notion, and pull his head
from its resting place against my breasts to look him in
the eye. "Y'know what I say to that?" His look encourages
me, and I dare to give him a wink. "Bring it on."

~FINIS~