Want and Need 3
TITLE: Want and Need III (1/1)
AUTHOR: ROz H
DISTRIBUTION STATEMENT: Its all good!
SPOILER WARNING: Small ones up to FTF.
RATING: R for language
CLASSIFICATION: MSR/UST
SUMMARY: Sequel to Want and Need II
AUTHOR NOTES: This is getting to be more fun than roller-skating! Any feedback is appreciated.
DISCLAIMER: Blah blah, not mine, blah blah blah.
Want and Need III
Monday 10:13 a.m. Hoover Building – Basement
Scully sat at her desk in their basement office with her chin in her hands and her elbows propped up on the table. She was unconsciously tracing the area on her cheek where Mulder had touched her just the other night. She was however, consciously thinking of Mulder just as he opened the office door to let himself in.
"Morning," he said with a smile that betrayed nothing to Scully's displeasure. She smiled back as she watched him take off his over coat and hang it up. He looked at her as he walked a couple paces to his desk. "Scully?"
Her eyebrows perked up.
"Did you have a nice weekend?"
She shrugged. Her expression changed to question him silently about his weekend. He shrugged, "nothing much. Little this, little that."
'O' she mouthed, but continued to stare.
"Scully?" The eyebrows again. He shifted uncomfortably under her direct stare. "Was there something you wanted to ask me?"
She stuck her lips out in thought and shrugged out of her seat and walked over to his desk. Scully leaned against the desk and crossed her arms. "I was thinking."
"Really?" He smiled.
"About the other night." She watched the flush come up his neck and into his cheeks.
"Are you angry?"
"No." He relaxed. "Just curious about something." He tensed again. "I understand your take on the attraction theory we were discussing, but something else occurred to me." She reached her hands behind her and slid slowly onto the desk.
It was at this point that Mulder became acutely aware of his partner's ensemble that morning. She wore black, which made her look strong but delicious, at least that's what he always thought. The jacket was the type with only three buttons straight from the top and stops mid section, just above her the waistline of her matching skirt. Which was slowly but surely picked out and worn today for her predatory move onto his desk. At least that's what he hoped. He could not help but look down and see a small, but noticeable slit on the side near her left knee. And that's when Mulder sighed deeply. She wasn't wearing nylons.
"Sweet Jesus," he mumbled softly.
"What Mulder?" His now dark hazel eyes snapped up and looked into her blue ones.
"I said what's that?" That is definitely not what she heard, but again the predator in her let it slide, for now.
"We've been partners for some time now."
"Yes we have."
"And on several occasions I have thought about what seems to be on other people's minds."
"And what would that be?" He was trying to hold on to whatever slight grip he had on his armrests, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. In approximately five seconds he was going to touch her leg, just to see if it was as soft as he dreamed it would be.
"Why we aren't sleeping together?"
That caught him completely off guard. His body had tensed up into a little ball practically but as soon as the words left her mouth and penetrated his testosterone filled cranium he crumbled. "Sleeping together?"
"Yes."
"I don't think it's ever come up." He smiled awkwardly. "The issue I mean."
"Everyone assumes we are."
"Do they?" He had heard that, but never talked to her about it. There were some conversations you don't have in public, but preferably in bed. He had hoped to be discussing this with her naked, on top of her. But beggars can't be choosers. "Why aren't we then?" He asked.
She crossed her legs, causing the slit to move up two inches. "I have a theory on that."
"Oh," he strangled out, "do you?" He hated that he was reduced to a quivering mass of hormones when talking to her in this proximity. Professionalism was rapidly flying out the window and apparently into wanton sex's arms.
"Typically with sexual attraction comes physical touch, we've established that. But why is it that as healthy heterosexuals we feel the need for sex. Kissing, touching, fucking?"
He was not hearing this. She had to be doing this on purpose. "So you've wondered how come we're not fucking, Scully?" Something in him snapped. His face was warm, although not as warm as all points south of there. He was currently sporting a potentially lethal hard-on and Dana Katherine Scully was talking dirty to him. A warm, almost fuzzy calm washed over him. Adolescent Mulder has left the building. Hail, hail, the king lives.
His words got her just then. She could practically feel her eyes dilate with arousal. She had thought about fucking him. Fucking him senseless and with such reckless abandonment she was sure to receive jail time. "Don't you ever wonder why, Mulder? I mean, I know why we haven't."
"Why haven't we been fucking, Scully?" He was taking almost insane pleasure saying that word to her. He nearly giggled with delight. "At least, why you haven't been fucking me?"
Insert huge shit eating grin here.
"There's the unspoken rule of fraternization, that's a given. Of course restraint like that tends to strengthen…."
He interrupted her, "The ties that bind, Scully?"
"Right." She smiled demurely. "Keeping each other at arms length I think strengthened our friendship, our partnership."
"And it's that self restraint that's making this conversation a helluva lot more interesting."
"Right."
"Right." They sat there quietly for a moment. Mulder rested his chin in his left hand, the hand closest to Scully. He managed not to touch her in the process knowing that would be his undoing if he touched her now. He'd give anything to reach up her skirt, feeling the softness of her inner thigh, but instead he wallowed in that sweet pain of want.
"Scully?" He asked quietly. Her heart leaped into her throat. He wasn't sure, but he thought he saw her shiver just then. He reached out and touched the hem of her jacket, fingering it softly. His eyes were cast downward seemingly taken with the stitching of the cloth. He looked back up at her with his eyes half closed and quietly said, "Have you ever been in love, Scully?"
"Hundreds of times." His fingers stopped moving. She saw the confusion on his face and had to smile. "I bet you want me to explain."
"Just to clarify."
'Every time you touch me I fall in love Mulder. Every time you smile, I know it's just for me and only for me, I fall in love. When you crossed the earth to find me, I fell in love. When you held me close in that hallway where I thought my cancer would take me, reassuring me with your friendship and love, when you fought for my life time and time again, I fell in love. When you look at me every single time, I fall in love, Mulder.'
That's what she wanted to tell him, that and that she wanted the taste of his lips on her mouth. But she didn't, instead she said, "Falling in love for me is just that, the sensation of falling. It's easy Mulder. It doesn't take much. Staying in love is another thing. Does that make sense?" He shook his head. "Have you been in love?"
"Of course."
"Are you in love now?" She held her breath. Mulder looked at her with the most intense, sincere and erotic look she had ever seen. Again, in that low 'come hither' voice he rumbled, "Yes, Scully. I am."
END part three