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~