Dreamboat 1/?

TITLE: Dreamboat (1/?)
AUTHOR: ROz H
DISTRIBUTION STATEMENT: You honor me…just tell me where.
SPOILER WARNING: ****
RATING: That place between a rock and a kinky place.
CLASSIFICATION: MSR/UST/V
SUMMARY:
“How do you tell your partner that you’ve been having knock down, drag out
pornographic dreams about him?”
“Preferably naked, I would think. But that’s just me.”
AUTHOR NOTES: This started out as just a dirty fantasy of mine with David
Duchovny and then I thought…what a cool story.
DISCLAIMER: Property of 1013 productions and Chris Carter. If Chris Carter
sued me, you think he’d give me his autograph? Don’t sue me!

Dreamboat

Georgetown
4:32 am


Remember that song that Bugs Bunny sang, the one where he was ‘adopted’ by
the female ape? It went something like:

‘Someone’s been rocking my dreamboat,
Someone’s invading my dream…
I was sailing along, peaceful and calm
…Then sud-den-ly something went wrong.’

Dana Scully did.

The long forgotten song popped into her head as she sat up quickly in her
bed. The dream had been so vivid, enough so that she could actually
remember colors, which was a rarity. She could never really remember colors
in her dreams, but in this one everything felt so tangible. The texture of
the furniture, the smells, but mostly it was Mulder.

Rubbing her hand over her face, Scully leaned forward into a sitting
position and remembered Mulder’s labored breathing, almost as if he was
sitting next to her. In her dream he was sitting just in front of her, in a
plush, wine red colored chair. She sat ten feet away from him in a similar
chair, her legs tucked underneath her. What she thought next made her blush
uncontrollably. It was down right ‘dirty’. Scully blinked and pushed her
covers away. As she walked to the bathroom door she mumbled to herself,
“woof”.

XXXXXXXXX

F.B.I Building
Basement Office
8:02 am

Mulder, with his gold rimmed glasses perched on the bridge of his formidable
nose, looked up at the sound of the office doorknob turning. With a small
knock Scully let herself in and stood for a moment. “Morning,” he said and
looked back down at the file he was reading. She didn’t say anything; she
just stood there. Mulder looked at her over the rim of his glasses and saw
the strange expression on her face. “What’s wrong, Scully?”

She shook her head, her face flushing lightly. “Nothing, I’m just tired.”
Rubbing her forehead she walked towards her desk and sat down.

“Rough night?”

Scully’s head snapped around and looked at Mulder. The flush had turned
bright red. “What made you say that?”

Mulder’s expression curled from concern to chuckling surprise. Through his
smirk he said, “you said you were tired,” he paused to take off his glasses
and deepen the smirk; “it was a natural conclusion to think you had a busy
night.”

Frowning, “I just didn’t sleep well last night.” Scully paused wondering if
she should bring it up.

“What, Scully? Jesus.” He laughed through a worried frown.

“Well, I had a weird dream last night.”

His eyes perked up. “Really? Little gray men?”

Scully shook her head and settled down behind her desk. “Those are your
dreams, Mulder.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t want to know what I’ve been dreaming lately,” he said, but
Scully had become involved in turning on her computer. “Tell me about your
dream.”

The flush came back into her neck. “It was nothing.”

“Huh, really?” He said with a sly grin. Mulder began to tap his No 2
pencil against his lips. “Nightmare?”

She shook her head.

“Oh,” he said slowly. She could hear the lecherous grin, even if she wasn’t
turned around to see him display it proudly. “That kind of dream, Scully?”

“Mulder.” Which translated to ‘back off’. He got the message and pushed
his glasses back up his nose. “What’s on the agenda today?” And with
that, she successfully changed the subject…for a while.

XXXXXXXX

The carpet was white, she noticed this time. A room without walls, white
carpet and the same wine colored plush chairs. She could smell him, even if
she couldn’t see him yet. She was standing barefoot on the soft carpet with
her dull silver nightgown on. ‘Gown’ might not have been the correct word,
this was a nightie if there ever was one and she was surprised to be wearing
it. It reached down to her ankles and swayed deliciously at them. The
straps were thin and her cleavage was not only showing, but also bountiful
in this little piece of nothing she had bought on a whim years ago.

Scully looked down and wiggled her toes. Out loud, “I really like this
carpet”.

“So do I,” said a voice matter-of-factly. It was Mulder's.

Scully’s reaction was so sudden and forceful that as she turned to face
Mulder in her dream she pulled out of it and found herself sitting up in her
bed, sweating and breathing fast. She was alone again, clad in plain, wool
pajamas sitting in the dark trying to catch up with her pounding heart.
Suddenly her phone rang.

Jumping again she laughed and reached over and picked up the phone, noting
the lateness of the hour. “Scully,” she answered.

Nothing.

“Hello?” Still nothing and then realization set in. “Mul…”, she cut
herself off and hung up the phone. She looked at the phone and then her
hand. It was trembling.

With a sigh, Scully laid her head onto her pillow and forced her eyes
closed. She turned to look at the phone again and then turned away from it.
‘It wasn’t him.’ Then she rolled her eyes; ‘of course it was him, who else
would call me so late?’ Scully sat back up and picked up her phone.

Mulder answered on the first ring. There was an uncharacteristic pause and
instead of his name he said, “…hello?”

“Mulder?”

“Scully?”

“Mulder, did you just call me?”

Another long pause. With a sigh he answered, “yes.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I had a…” he paused again, to Scully’s growing annoyance. ‘I should be
asleep right now,’ she thought to herself. “I had a…thought about a case
and wanted to share it with you and then I realized what time it was so….”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah.” Mulder seemed unsure himself. “Nothing that can’t wait until
tomorrow.”

“Alright Mulder. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Right.” Then he hung up. Scully sat staring at the phone and then gently
put it back on its cradle.

XXXXXXXXXXThe next evening, in Scully’s apartment…

There was a knock at her door. Scully walked from the kitchen with a
sandwich and a dreaded look on her face. ‘Hmm, Mulder,’ she thought. The
day had been unproductive, but not for lack of evidence in a case they were
involved in, but more out of the tension between the two of them. She made
her getaway as fast as she could, leaving him in the building car garage
without a word and just a wave goodbye. She left him standing near the
elevators with an odd look on his face. Again the knock. She didn’t even
want to look through the peephole so she just opened the door, ham sandwich
in hand.

“Hey.”

Scully nearly dropped her light dinner and laughed wholeheartedly. “It’s
you! Oh geez, come in. Come in.”

It was Catherine. She was Scully’s age, single and just as beautiful. With
dark brown hair, big brown eyes, she was about 3 inches taller than Scully.
Dear, sweet, next door neighbor with the 15lb cat named George, Catherine.
“Wow, you seem relieved.”

“You have no idea. Sit. Sit.”

“Thank you. Thank you.” She laughed. “Just thought I’d say hi, haven’t
seen you in a bit…what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“Right…” Catherine took a seat on the couch as Scully went into her kitchen
and came back with a bottle of wine. Her guest’s eyes perked up. “You had
another one of those dreams, didn’t you?”

Scully had in fact told Catherine about the dreams, the dreams with Mulder,
but not in full detail. “Oh yeah.”

Catherine smiled a lewd smile, “lay it on me, D. I want details this time,
too.”

XXXXXXXOne hour later…

They were both silent. Scully with her third glass of wine in her hand and
Catherine who hadn’t even gotten to take a second sip out of hers. Scully’s
guest opened her mouth and then closed it again. She looked at her glass
and took a big gulp of wine. Clearing her throat she looked at the glass
and then at Scully. Again her mouth gaped like a fish out of water.

Scully sat on her end of the couch, with her body turned facing Catherine’s
and blushed profusely.

Finally Catherine said, “you have got to be shitting me.”

Scully laughed. “Oh no…nothing here but us chickens and the honest to god’s
truth.”

“I feel dirty.” She put her glass down on the floor next to her end of the
couch.

“You feel dirty? How do you think I feel?”

“Sexually repressed maybe? For the love of god, that was just plain
barbaric!” She paused. “I’m going to do it sometime.” They both laughed
and when it died away she said, “so are you going to tell him, D?

‘D,’ Scully thought. She loved her nickname that Catherine had given her.
She smiled at the term of endearment and then grinned at the thought of
telling Mulder. She blushed again. “Somehow I doubt that.”

“I’d tell him.”

“You would?”

“Oh hell yes. The way you describe him? Tall, dark…oh hell yes. In fact,
I might just tell him that I had that dream about him. Don’t let me meet
him, girl. Good lord, Dana…you should tell him.”

“How do you tell your partner that you’ve been having knock down, drag out
pornographic dreams about him?”

“Preferably naked, I would think. But that’s just me.”

Then there was a knock at the door. Scully checked her watch, “it’s not
past 11 yet.” With a smirk she got up and with a smile answered the door.
“Oh…its Mulder.”

Catherine jumped up and leaned again the back of the couch. Scully turned
and looked at Catherine and then back to Mulder. With a snicker a little
voice behind Dana murmured, “Let the games begin.”

XXXEnd of Part 1XXX