Dreamboat 2/?

TITLE: Dreamboat (2/?)
AUTHOR: ROz H
FEEDBACK (please tell me where you saw this story!):
DISTRIBUTION STATEMENT: You honor me…just tell me where.
SPOILER WARNING: ****
RATING: That place between a rock and a kinky place. PG
CLASSIFICATION: MSR/UST/V
SUMMARY:
“He did what?” Catherine covered her face and laughed. “He touched you
where?”

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 part 2


“Let the games begin.”

XXXXX

Scully noticeably blanched and then blushed in front of Mulder’s eyes.
“Mulder,” she said and then turned to look in her living room. He heard a
soft voice and a garbled sentence, something with the word ‘games’, and that
’s all he caught. Scully looked back at him and swallowed, straightening
her posture and backing away from the door.

As she backed away, Mulder took a tentative step in and saw the voice. “I’m
sorry, Scully. You’re busy.”

“No she’s not. I was just leaving.” Mulder looked at her guest, dark hair,
and dark brown eyes. She rose from the couch and his eyes followed her.

“Mulder this is my neighbor, Catherine.”

“Right, right. The one with the cat.” Mulder had in his hand a folder, and
he tucked it underneath his left arm and reached out with his right.
Catherine walked around the couch and shook his hand.

“You’re Mulder.” Catherine looked at Scully, who just smiled plainly and
took to cleaning up the wine and her glass. The dark haired woman watched
Scully for a moment and then turned back to Mulder. “X Files, huh?”

“Scully’s told you about them?”

“She told me about the…uh what was it, oh the Bermuda triangle one.” Scully
returned and ushered them back into the living room. “And the, New years
one, right Scully?” Scully shot her a look, knowing full well what she was
alluding to. “That was an interesting one.” Catherine smiled.

“I have another one here.” Mulder held the folder out to Scully. “Just a
quick look-see, Scully.”

“Then that is my cue. Mulder it was nice finally meeting you. I’ve always
heard you coming around, so it’s nice to put a face to the bump in the
night.” With a smile she walked past Mulder and with his back to her,
Catherine pointed to him and mouthed several phrases…something that was
conducive to her chomping down her teeth and nudging Scully as she made her
way to the door.

Whispering Scully hissed, “I’ll get you for the New Year’s comment.”

“I should only be so lucky.” With a wink she added, “you should tell him,
Agent Scully.”

“See you, Catherine,” Scully said aloud.

“Sweet dreams, Dana.” She emphasized on the ‘NA’ in her name.

With that Scully closed the door and turned to look at Mulder. She circled
back around the couch and stood in front of him with the folder in her hand.
“A look, Mulder?”

“Just a quickie,” and smiled. She didn’t sit down, so he did. He watched
her read the file quickly, skimming the notes he had already put in the side
columns. Her face was still flushed from the wine, he gathered. His eyes
ran down the length of her neck and he watched her lifeblood pulse. He was
just glad to see it. Further down he let his gaze wonder, over her hands,
her waist, and then down her legs and that’s when he noticed she was bare
foot. He mouthed the word ‘wow’ and then came back up to her eyes, which
were now watching him.

He smiled and rose. “Feel like hashing it out?”

She sighed, “sure, I’m wide awake now.”

“You never drink wine with me.”

“Yes I have, it just wasn’t you,” and she smiled. Glad she could joke about
the Eddie Van Blunht issue without seeing a crack of pain sear across his
face.

Mulder smiled and moved across the couch and felt his leg hit something. He
looked down and saw what must’ve been Catherine half-full wineglass, spill
onto her rug. “Oh shit!” They both dropped down to fetch the glass and
knocked heads. “That’s going to leave a bump,” he winced.

“Ow, its ok, Mulder. It’s scotch protected, I’ll get a rag.”

“Good thing it’s not a white carpet.”

Scully had turned her back and headed into her kitchen. She stopped at his
words. Slowly turning she asked, “What Mulder?”

“Your carpet, good thing its not white,” he had said again, but not looking
up. When he did he caught the last of the shocked expression on her face as
she decided to return to her rag fetching. She came back and started to dab
at the carpet on her hands and knees. “You ok, Scully?” He asked not
moving from his position on the couch, so that he was unnecessarily close to
her.

“I just didn’t hear you.”

“Still having those dreams, Scully?”

Scully felt a decidedly large pool of bile almost rise up her throat and
onto the wine stain on her carpet. “What dreams, Mulder?” She continued to
dab.

“You know, Scully.” Dab, dab, dab. “Those dreams.”

“The nightmares?” Lies. Dab. Lies. Dab. Gurgle of vomit. Dab. “No,
Mulder, just that one.”

“Thought it wasn’t a nightmare?”

“It was disturbing enough.” She looked up at him and tried to smile and
found she could only nervously grin. He was looking at her with open
curiosity. “See, no stain.”

“Yeah,” he said without looking. “Yeah…how about we talk about this at the
office, I came too late.” He stood up and walked around the couch.

Scully still on her knees, with rag in hand watched him. “Alright, Mulder.
If that’s what you want.”

“Good night.” With that he opened the door and let himself out.

Scully settled back onto her feet and looked down at her dull colored
carpet.

XXXXX

Scully stood on what looked like a balcony over looking a garden. She could
smell roses. She peered over and looked. “A rose garden,” she murmured.
As she pulled back she noticed something. Looking down at herself she
realized, with great shock, that she was in the tightest, reddest velvet
dress she had ever seen. She touched her hair and felt the curls and bobby
pins holding it up. She suddenly felt the warm night breeze across her back
and she realized that she had none. A back to her dress, that is. It was a
tank style that covered and pushed up her breasts and that dipped very, very
low in the back, to just below the tattoo of the snake she had so
impulsively gotten a few years back. “Oh my god, that’s low.”

The dress’s velvet material draped down to her ankles and as she ran her
hand around her hips she felt the high slit that was behind her right leg.
For as much material this dress had, it almost left nothing to the
imagination. The slit ran from the bottom, to below the curve of where her
thigh ends and something more substantial meets.

Then she could smell him. Over the roses and the warm breeze that brought
the surrounding city smells. She could smell him. Then she could feel him
as a long, slightly callused finger ran down the length of her back, to just
above her tattoo.

XXXXX

Dana Scully was twisting and murmuring in her bed, but not from a nightmare.
Far from it, in fact and her breathing was deepening and body temperature
was rising. Clutching at her sheets, she turned her face into the pillow
and came so hard that it felt as if every blood vessel in her body was
bursting. Opening her eyes, she let her breathing return to normal before
she jumped up and threw on a coat and some shoes.

Several minutes later and two doors down, Scully was pounding on her
neighbor’s door. A bleary eyed Catherine opened it and through one opened
eye said, “Dana, what’s wrong?” She backed away and let her in.

In an identically set up apartment, Catherine ushered Scully to the couch
and sat her down. Rubbing her face she suddenly stopped. She took a good
look at Scully. “You’ve been having sex.”

“No…well, yes.”

“That wasn’t a trick question, D.” Scully’s hair was mussed up, her face
gave new meaning to flushed and red, and she was breathing as if she had
just ran a marathon. “Did you just leave him there in your apartment?”

“No. He left right after you did.”

“Then why do you look like that, oh my god you had another dream.”
Catherine words ran together and she was chuckling at the end of her
sentence.

“You ain’t just whistling Dixie.”

Catherine’s eyebrows tightened, she mouthed ‘whistling Dixie’ and shook her
head. “Alright, round one. Let’s get it on, Dana.”

XXXX

Scully took a deep breath, breathing in the soft, sandalwood aroma of Fox
Mulder. She could feel him come closer to her and suddenly she could feel
the starched lapels of his jacket brush up against her back. In her left
ear she could hear him breathing as he said, “Hi, Scully.”

Her right hand came up and touched the area below her breasts, trying not to
hyperventilate. Why was she having these dreams and why did his closeness
send her absolutely wild. She felt his right hand trace the straps of her
dress along her back, touching the skin and the material from the right
shoulder to the left. His left hand touched her left hip and she shivered.
“You cold, Scully?”

Mulder turned her around and faced her. She could only imagine what new
shades of red she had discovered as he pressed up against her and traced the
edge of the front material of her dress. “Let me warm you up, Scully.”

The tall, dark handsome man of a partner that she shared her life almost
24/7 with the past 7 years reached out and…

XXXX

“He did what?” Catherine covered her face and laughed. “He touched you
where?”

XXXX

…around to the back of her dress and slipped his hand into the slit of her
velvet dress. Without a word, but a hard stare he slipped his fingers into
the side of her panties and touched her…dead center.

End of Part Two