Dreamboat 5/?

TITLE: Dreamboat (5/?)
FEEDBACK (please tell me where you saw this story!):
DISTRIBUTION STATEMENT: You honor me, just tell me where.
CLASSIFICATION: MSR/If this isn’t sexual tension, I don’t know what is/V
SUMMARY: “Your lips. They’re delicious.”
AUTHOR NOTES: ACK! When will it end…tee hee.
DISCLAIMER: Property of 1013 productions and Chris Carter. Hey, i wouldn't
go on with Season 8, I wouldn't want the blame.

Dreamboat Part Five

Scully’s bed
60 A.M.

Mulder sat next to Scully on her soft, white bed, “It was you,” she said.
“Last night. It was your dream.” She waited with her hand slowly stroking
his silk, blue tie.


Her hand stopped moving up and down his tie. “Hmm, Mulder?” she purred.

He looked at her for a long moment. His hazel eyes strayed from her eyes to
blaze a trail down her throat, and to the hollow dip in-between her
clavicles. ‘If only to die there,’ he thought to himself. ‘If only.’

“I think you need to sleep this off, Scully.” Mulder gave her a shy smile.
“You’re talking nonsense.”

“Am I, Mulder?” Again the drunk induced grin. “I might be.” Then the
giggles, “I must be, because I wouldn’t normally be thinking the thoughts
that are dancing like sugar plums in my head.”

“What thoughts, Scully?”

“Dirty thoughts, Mulder. I like your lips, Mulder.”

“Do you now?”

“They’re so…” she grinned evilly and reached out. She put the delicately
manicure fingernail of her left hand, on his lips. Mulder closed his eyes
and leaned into her hand. “They’re so…” She cupped his cheek and ran her
thumb over his bottom lip, and with her other hand she grabbed his neck tie
again and pulled him forward, planting a wet, open mouth kiss on the
aforementioned lips. Mulder took a deep breath and let her kiss him, and he
nearly lost it when he felt her tongue in his mouth. She ran it along his
lips, then the length of his tongue, deepening the kiss as she grabbed a
fist full of his hair. Scully leaned into him and pushed him back onto the
bed. His long body was stretched out across the width of the bed as Scully
laid her half-naked body on top of his.

Drunk Scully, that is. “Sc”, he started, but the rest of her name was lost
in their kiss. He reached around to grab her by the waist and hoist her off
him when he touched bare skin. Her shirt had risen up and his hands touched
her back and the spot where her tattoo would be, and he groaned.

Scully hummed at the noise, and started to grind against him.

Mulder’s grabbed her then and turned her over. As he leaned over her, he
pulled back. He could see the swell of her breasts through the gaping
button up, satin top she was wearing. He wanted to run his tongue up and
down the curves of her. Mulder actually started to salivate, just thinking
about it. Scully resumed her slow hand job on his tie. “Delicious.”

His forehead furrowed. “What?”

“Your lips. They’re delicious.” Then she giggled, and it was that giggle
that decided it.

Mulder pushed away from her and turned his back to her. He sat next to her
lovely legs and tried to avoid looking at them. He stood, and with his back
still towards her, walked out of the room. Entering the kitchen, he looked
around and found what he was looking for, the makings of a strong pot of
coffee. As he went through the motions, he tried not to think about what
had just happened, and the potential of what could happen if Scully happened
to walk into the kitchen to finish what she had started.

It was so hard being the good man, the noble man…the kind of man who turned
down a sure thing because of principle and respect for the woman.

Mulder hated that man, but he couldn’t help but be him.

He rested his head against the cool surface of the kitchen cabinet and
smiled. Pushing away from the counter, he walked back to the room, stopping
at the bedroom door. With his eyes closed he entered. “Scully?”


Mulder opened his eyes and looked at the bed. Scully had curled into fetal
position and fallen back asleep. He walked to her and settled gently on the
bed next to her. “Scully?” He shook her shoulder gently and then with

No, it was snoring.

“Nice.” Mulder smiled as he looked down at the now passed out Dana Scully.
“ Really nice.”

6:05 PM
Somewhere over Indiana

The low hum of the 737 jet’s gently sent Mulder into a light sleep. To
Scully, on the other hand, they sounded louder than the voice of God.

Scully sat with a cranky look on her face, and a strong cup of nasty,
airline coffee in her hand. She looked over at Mulder who was stretched out
in his seat, with his legs in the aisle and was holding a bag of
snicker-doodles in his hands. The sight of them made her sick. Sticking
her tongue out in disgust she turned and looked out of the small airplane
window into the deep, dark night. With a sigh Scully said, “God, I need a

‘Vanilla? Something soft and sweet smelling. I think that’s vanilla.’

Mulder let his head follow his nose, which was turning to his right. He
opened his eyes, but quickly closed them again. The sun was peeking through
the window of the airplane. ‘What time is it?’ he thought as he put his
hand over his eyes, trying to open them slowly.

“Wake up, sleepy head.”

Scully’s voice. He peered through a crack in his fingers and saw her
sitting there. Mulder looked at her and gulped. As much as it annoyed
Scully, the comments about her hair color, little nicknames and such, it
annoyed Mulder more to hear people describe how it looked like in the sun.
To his dismay, as he looked at her, the only thing he could think about was
how it illuminated around her head like a halo, shimmering against the dawn


Mulder straightened and smiled. “Nothing.”

“Oh,” and smiled. Another thing that annoyed him was how people put
feelings to smiles. A smile was a smile, to him. Just a reaction to
muscles in the face contracting, but as he looked at her…oh his heart wept a
t the way her smile touched her eyes. Everything about her seemed
different. Magnificent.

“It’s amazing how well you recover from a hang over,” he said with a slight

“Oh,” her eyes squinted in embarrassment, “right, that. I hope I didn’t say
anything stupid.”

“Well,” Mulder started. ‘Dirty thoughts, Mulder. I like your lips, Mulder.
’ With a low voice he said, “No, you didn’t, Scully.”

“Good.” The smile again, but this time it was accompanied with her small
left hand resting itself on his thigh. She patted him.

Mulder’s eyes flicked down to his leg. She murmured low, “Good.” Then she
removed her hand and Mulder’s breathing began again; but then she did
something curious.

Scully moved the arm seat separating them up and then reached across him and
lifted that one up. “What are you doing?” he asked watching her.

“Hey,” he looked up at her. “Pay attention,” she said. His eyebrows
crinkled as she began to hike her skirt up.

Muahahahahah! Stay tuned!