Like The Winds Outside
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DISTRIBUTION/FEEDBACK: aloysia.virgata@yahoo.com. Please ask before archiving. RATING: R CLASSIFICATION: Mulder/Scully Romance SPOILERS: all things SUMMARY: A reckoning had been hanging in the air for days, and she wanted to choose wisely. DISCLAIMER: Not mine, sadly. But you know what, 1013? Sometimes you don't do such a hot job of playing with your toys. And then I get all curious. AUTHOR'S NOTES: Originally posted at the xf_pornbattle at Live Journal, which I thoroughly encourage you to go check out! The prompt was Mulder/Scully, post-all things. There are parts of this story on which I might like to have expanded, but there was a length limit of 4300 characters, so I'm posting it as I originally wrote it. I never bought the notion that all things was their first time. But clearly something significant happened that night, so I got to wondering what it might have been. The title is from the Moby song that played throughout the episode. **** Scully rises before the sun, a ghost woman leeched of color by the pre-dawn gloom. She showers, dries her hair, and pulls clean underwear from her stash in his drawer. She readies to leave, seeing Mulder reflected dimly in the mirror. He sprawls across half the bed, as though the memory - or the anticipation - of nights together has trained him to keep space free for her. They have fucked - there is no other word for it - on occasions prior. Those encounters took place in what she considers moments of strength for her and moments of weakness for Mulder. A few times in distant hotels, and, eventually, they branded his apartment with memories too. She thinks of Daniel. A relationship based on the unspoken agreement that they were playing Headmaster and Valedictorian. He liked vulnerability and she welcomed the chance to be weak for once. But when he wanted an excuse to leave his wife, he tried to guilt her into being strong for him. She called his bluff and left the table. He never quite forgave her for winning. In the darkness, Mulder sighs and shifts, reaching for her in his sleep. She pulls her shirt down, ashamed of having broken her promise already. **** Scully did not recall falling asleep. She woke up a shade past midnight, the aquarium luminous, the blanket soft and heavy. She shrugged it off to put on her shoes, rose to leave, and paused at his bedroom door. Brushed the knob, then dropped her hand, turning to go. She walked smack into Mulder. "I couldn't sleep," he said. "Thinking about our conversation." He wore thin cotton pants and no shirt. She slipped her arms around him and pressed her cheek to the solid comfort of his chest. His skin radiated heat against her face and she scratched her nails lightly over him, making him sigh. He was hard against her stomach. She reached for his waistband, but he caught her wrist. "I can't do this, Scully." His voice heavy with resignation. She bit her lip and looked away, her cheeks hot. "I understand." "You think you're stronger if you stay distant," he told her. "You make people need you, then you walk away when you need them back." She froze. A reckoning had been hanging in the air for days, and she wanted to choose wisely. Mulder looked uncertain, shy, and Scully had an image of him holding her dying child. Her heart squeezed and nearly broke. "Not anymore," she said, taking his hand. They both believed her. He leaned down to kiss her, then led her to his bed. Lightning forked outside, thunder rolling loud and deep. He teased her breasts with his tongue, and she crooned into his hair. Mulder pushed into her deliberately, unhurried. She did not plead with him to go faster. She let herself go as the rain and the wind lashed against the windows, nearly drowning the sound of his name on her lips. It was the first time she had used his name in bed. She pulled his mouth down to hers, savoring his weight as he moved within her. He cupped her face in his hand and he kissed her deeply, making her breath tingle down to her lungs. He trailed his fingers up her waist and stroked her neck. She held his gaze instead of closing her eyes and tossing her head back. "Scully," he said. She touched his cheek, traced his features with a fingertip. Her hands skimmed over his body, learning him over again. She let him tell her she was beautiful. She let him make love to her. **** Scully pulls her jacket on, the scraping branches outside muffling her footsteps on his creaky floor. She pads out of the bedroom and finds her shoes. Makes it to the door, opening it fully before she stops. She told him she'd risk dying for him. She was young then and, in her earnestness, believed that was the ultimate commitment. Older now, wiser, she knows that dying is a one-time sacrifice. In this moment she understands that it takes great strength to live for someone, particularly when you don't always know how. Scully returns to his room and surveys Mulder, who dreams quietly. Sharp suits and killer heels are flimsy armor against his trust. She climbs in bed next to him. He wakes and kisses her drowsily, mussing her sleek hair. She burrows against him, his arms shutting out the roar of the storm. **** The End. Check out my LiveJournal at http://aloysiavirgata.livejournal.com
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