#msr ust

She turned around and caught a glimpse of his reddened face. He tried to back up completely, but the boxes were precariously leaning on his back and his movements just caused more falling. Again, she didn’t know why it was her subconscious’ mission to make this as embarrassing for both of them as possible, but she looked down just to confirm her already confirmed suspicions. He wasn’t just hard, but impressively hard.

He turned his hips away from her and grabbed the last remaining falling box, bringing it in front of himself to preserve a semblance of modesty. “I-I-”

“I’m so sorry,” the rushed simultaneously.

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have touched-” she started.

“It was definitely all my fault Scully.”

“Uh, I’m going to go to the restroom,” she rambled, cringing at the way her voice sounded.

Every thud of her heels against the floor punctuated her frantic thoughts.

I just felt Mulder’s penis.

Mulder’s penis touched me.

Mulder’s huge.

Why was he so hard from just being in there with me? We hadn’t even touched.

She decided to hold her judgements on the last question when she pulled down her underwear in the stall and saw the tell tale evidence of their arousal as a damp, dark line on her underwear.

II

When they were forced to share a bed, his biggest concern was that he wouldn’t keep his hands to himself in his sleep. He hadn’t even considered the reverse would be an issue. But it was four in the morning and he was gently woken up to Scully using his body as a mattress while apparently having a really good dream.

The added weight wasn’t unpleasant, just unexpected. He was getting his bearings when he heard her grumble breathily and roll her hips against his. He didn’t think he’d ever woken up so fast in his life. Mulder blinked his eyes rapidly, hoping that they’d adapt to the darkness faster so he could see the fantasy happening to him currently.

She had one leg thrown over his crotch as her own was pressed against his thigh. She also had her arm around his chest with her face buried in the crook of his neck, warming the skin with her breath as she occasionally made little sounds of pleasure. This was probably one of the most intense erections he’d had in a while and he couldn’t do a single thing about it. He couldn’t just hump her leg while she was clearly unconscious, and he had to remind himself of that everytime his hips bucked in a desperate attempt to get friction when she’d squirm.

“Scully,” he whispered, hoping to rouse her and then pretend to be asleep himself. No luck. The sound just caused her to nuzzle closer and undulate herself against his leg, squeezing his thigh in between her own in between her movements.

Scully was aroused, on top of him, and it was pure torture. Her movements were so constant that he couldn’t believe that she could still be asleep. As much as he’d spent countless hours thinking about it, he was scared she was going to come on him, because if she came, he would, and her’s would be a lot less obvious in the morning.

“Scully,” he whispered a little louder, still not moving too much.

She moaned softly and whispered “Muh-lder,” as she pressed her breasts against his side. He felt his dick twitch painfully against her leg and then he felt her body freeze. He laid there, pretending to be asleep as he listened to her come to the realization of what she’d just been doing.

Painfully slowly, so slowly he knew she had to have felt how this affected him, she slid off and padded over to the bathroom. He tried to keep his dick off his hands while listening to the muffled sounds the bathroom faucet couldn’t drown out.

III

They were both too drunk, the Madonna song was too implicit, and they should have stopped dancing songs ago. But they didn’t. Instead, they were flushed and warm in a bar in the middle of nowhere and there were so many other people here doing the same thing, they couldn’t even find it in themselves to be embarrassed. That was probably the alcohol. As she thought this, she felt Mulder thumb the sliver of skin revealed where her shirt didn’t quite reach her pants, due to her arms being looped around Mulder’s neck. Definitely the alcohol.

As the sensual music reflected her mood she felt something against her lower belly. Instead of investigating, she simply let it be, encouraging it even. She took a millimeter step closer to him and she could smell the cologne of his sweat and laundry detergent fill her senses. It was overwhelmingly masculine and overwhelmingly the exact scent she tried to conjure up when her hand was thrust between her thighs at night. As she moved her hips a little but she felt, again, another feature of her nightly fantasies, but this was hot and real and felt so good against her right now.

She could tell he was surprised when she drunkenly asked him to dance with her, but that shock had nothing on his expression when she looked him in the eye and pressed her hips purposefully against him. He felt like a rod of steel against her belly and she felt herself get wetter with every rub against him.

It was a few more sways that had given him the confidence to lower his head down a bit and smell her hair, pressing into her timidly like someone putting their toe in water - curious but ready to jump away if necessary. It was sweet, but she was ready to drown.

She raised her head complimentary to him and playfully breathed on his neck, just barely feeling his stubble scrape her lip, just barely feeling the vibrations rumble from the moan she caused.

One of his hands snaked up and he palmed her back, pressing her flush to him as they grinded to the beat of the song. She swore she could hear their hearts synching up and she hoped he couldn’t feel her trembling.

Scully felt his hand move to cup her jaw, but just as her head started to turn, a wolf whistle startled them both, making them jump and break apart. They turned and saw a group of men leering at them with lascivious intentions in their eyes. “Keep going dude, you got a little firecracker in your hands.”

“Fuck off,” Mulder spat with uncharacteristic malise.

The sudden attention caused her to sober up and what they’d just been doing - what they’d almost just done overwhelmed her and, as always, she feld. Coming back out of the bathroom ten minutes later to see Mulder closing their tabs with the familiar smile that read ‘we can pretend this never happened’. She mirrored his expression and they both pretended not to be disappointed.

IV

The movie she’d come over to watch had ended hours ago. The only sounds in the apartment now were the late night infomercials advertising products no one would ever need. Sometimes he would glance over at them in an attempt to not overwhelm her with his attention. The tension was thick and they both knew it. A few weeks ago she’d come over and she kissed him on the lips before leaving. It honestly surprised them both, but he had no doubts she was reassured by the beaming smile he couldn’t keep off his face as she let herself out.

A week after that, he tried instigating it and almost died when she eagerly accepted his kiss, opening her mouth while exploring his. A few days ago he wore off all her lipstick from kissing her against her door for so long. He didn’t know what was in store tonight, but he could tell she was thinking about the possibilities from the way she was nervously playing with her middle finger and biting her lip. It was fun and it was torture at the same time.

When the night started, they had been on opposite ends of the couch, but somehow they’d ended up with their legs completely flush to each other. “I’ve appreciated you having me over so much this past month,” she stated bluntly, picking at the fluff on his navajo blanket.

“I’ve appreciated you coming over. It’s been,” he paused, trying to choose his words wisely, “I look forward to everytime you come over,” he rambled nervously.

She smiled at him and his lips were just starting to curve upwards when her delicate hand cupped his jaw and she leaned forward to capture his mouth in a kiss. God, he’d never get used to this.

He gently cupped the back of her neck as he nipped at her plump bottom lip. How many hours had he spent staring at these lips? The way they moved when she argued with him, the little marks they’d leave on coffee cups, the way she now tended to bite them before kissing him. He was in love. Plain and simple.

It wouldn’t be Scully if she didn’t keep him on his feet, and just as he was losing his nervous edge, she put a hand on his shoulder and shifted her weight so that she was straddling his lap.

Fuck.

She broke the kiss for a moment to catch her breath and read his face. He could see the questions burning in her gaze. Was this okay? Was she moving too fast? Did he want this too?

In response, he wrapped his arms around her and drew her further on his lap, capturing her swollen lips once more. Never in his life did he think he’d ever be able to say Dana Katherine Scully was sitting on his lap making out with him, but here he was and god it was incredible. Sometimes it felt like she was an enigma, a physical relationship with her being absolutely intangible. Yet here she was, warm, soft, and squirming on top of him.

He’d been slightly hard on and off all night, but the kissing and now this left him with a rock hard erection, one she was clearly aware of as she aligned their clothes arousals and ground herself down on top of him. “Mphfuck,” he moaned into her mouth. She grinned against him and left his lips in favor of nibbling on his neck while she rocked against him.

His eyes fluttered shut as his hands roamed her back, feeling the warmth of her skin radiating through her clothes. He could feel she was burning through the crotch of her pants and it was his desperate need to feel it more that led him to cupping her ass and rubbing her against him, occasionally thrusting and inadvertently making her bounce in his lap.

Scully gasped and whimpered into his neck as she undulated her hips into him. It was the combination of sight, sound, and touch that had his eyes rolling back into his head and bucking his hips away from her. “Scully, if you keep that up I’m going to embarrass myself,” he laughed, his voice thick with wanton lust.

She laughed breathily and pulled back, revealing her dialated eyes and flushed cheeks. “I’m sorry, I got a little carried away.” She let go of his shoulders so she could fix her wild hair, but didn’t get off his lap yet.

“Scully, I can guarantee you that you will never have to apologize to me for that. In fact, I highly encourage it. Whenever you want to reenact that, me and my couch are always available.” He was pretty sure his cock had a heartbeat and he was still glad he hadn’t come in his pants yet.

She laughed lightly at his musings and good-naturedly gasped when she saw the clock. “As much as I would like a reenactment right now, I think I should head home before I have to get up in five hours,” she explained, sliding off his lap and gathering her things.

His offering of his body as a pillow was innocent enough, she just scooted over to him, rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes in blissful contentment. She pretended not to notice the way he inhaled her hair at the crown of her head much in the same way he didn’t comment on how her hand was idly tracing patterns on the fabric of his jeans. 

What he did notice was her sleepy yawn, rectifying the issue by sliding his weight down the couch and tugging on her to follow. Retrospectively, she was the one who pushed it farther than they usually went, but it was a misunderstanding. 

Instead of laying next to him so he could spoon her, she draped herself over him. It was when she rested her weight on her forearms that she looked down through the curtain of hair to see his face littered with surprise. She couldn’t back down now, so she grabbed the blanket, draped it over herself, and covered his body with her own.

It pissed her off how natural it felt. 

Her cold feet were right against his calves and she couldn’t help but stroke them up and down his shins, stealing his warmth. She turned her head to the TV to watch the movie she couldn’t care less about as she placed her hands on his chest. She could hear his heart beating rapidly against her ear and she hoped he couldn’t feel her smile.

She was a little askew on him, so she moved herself by shifting on her waist. He gasped lightly and she felt what she’d assumed was his wallet turn into a full blown erection.

She could feel it pressing against her just as intensely as she felt his anticipation of her rejection. Her disgust. Her reprimand. All things he would never receive. To comfort him, she nuzzled her cheek against the warmth of his t-shirt and she silently rejoiced when his arms encircled around her back, underneath the blanket, underneath the thin material of her shirt, so that he could rub soothing circles into the flesh of her back.

This was a lot of touching. A lot for partners, a lot for friends, and a lot for two individuals who still blushed if their hands grazed each other while reaching for a file.

Nothing had ever felt so right.

She was so comfortable in his arms that she tried to burrow into him more, shifting her hips against his in a more than suggestive manner. In response, his hand dipped a little lower, coming to rest on her lower back just above her tattoo. His hand remained firm as he shifted his own weight, moving his hard on lower so that it was pressed firmly against her pubic mound.

She gasped and her hips bucked inadvertently against him, her body desperate for the contact it was always deprived of. There was no way for that last movement to be disguised as her adjusting to the position and they both stilled, waiting for the other to break the spell.

Her heart leapt in her chest when she felt his pinky exploratorily dip underneath the waistband of her pyjamas, touching the supple skin of her bare ass. He was making the first move. She didn’t want him to think she was ungrateful or that she wanted him to stop so she unabashedly spread her legs a bit more so they came to rest on either side of his hipbones and so that she could press her throbbing sex fully on top of his. The movement made Mulder’s hand slip into her pants fully as he palmed her ass in one hand, pressing her even harder against him. God, she’d never felt so good in her entire life.

DING-DONG

His hand shot out of her pants as she sat upright, inadvertently rocking her weight right on top of him. With hooded eyes she tried to make sense of the sound before realizing they’d ordered Chinese an hour ago. She also realized her lip hurt from biting it and her shirt was bunched up under her breasts.

She quickly pulled it down and moved her weight to her knees. “It’s the delivery m-” the husky sentence died on her lips when she looked down to see Mulder staring at her with a look of pure, animalistic lust. His eyes were raking over her body with a black intensity and he looked like he wanted to ravish her. She was sure she looked about the same if the trail of arousal coating her inner thighs was any indicator.

She was getting frisky with Mulder on her sofa like a horny teenager.

The shock made her bolt off of him and she tried her hardest not to focus on the way his cock strained prominently against the front of his pants, which just so happened to have a wet spot on them. From him or her, she didn’t know. What would have happened if the door bell hadn’t rang?

“I-I’m sorry,” she apologized, though she wasn’t sure what for. 

DING-DONG.

“I have to get that,” she whispered while backing up.

When she came back, Mulder had rushed to the bathroom. The couch still indented from their heavy petting.

Name: Fox Mulder

Age: 29

Height: 6’0”

Weight: 190lbs

Unit: Behavioral Sciences Unit

Previously: Violent Crimes Unit

College: Oxford University (1983-1986, Top of Class)

The more she read, the more impressed she was. He seemed to be brilliant, an excellent profiler, and overall accomplished in his own right despite his apparent fascination with the unknown and fantastical, brought on from a traumatic incident with his sister. However, while she should have been focused on the credentials before her, she kept getting drawn to a little blue FBI ID photo in the upper left hand section of the screen.

As she admired him, she gave him her own resume

Name: Fox Mulder

Eyes: Captivating

Nose: Adorably suiting

Lips: Distracting

Overall: A very good looking man

She’d seen him around a few times after that, looking just as handsome, brooding, and mysterious as he had that very first day. She was…charmed, to say the least. Once of twice even catching herself looking at his shirt trying to imagine what was underneath.

To say he’d gotten more attractive with age would also be an understatement. She watched him get up and mess with a slide show projector much in the same way she’d watched him before: discreetly, admiringly, and with a hint of attraction.

He wasn’t the only one who’d done some research.

Hearing

He didn’t know she’d come back. That’s the only excuse she could give him as to why he was being so loud right now. He must’ve thought the sound of her door closing meant she was running an errand, not that she was simply running out to the car to grab her forgotten water bottle.

When she’d come back in, for a second she thought he was in pain. Closing the door behind her delicately, not making a sound, she focused in on the noises coming from the other side of the paper thin wall.

Mphf

It was a weird mix of a grunt and a cough, involuntary but constrained. She gently set her water bottle down on the bed as she tiptoed closer to the adjoining door where she heard a sharp inhalation of breath. He’d told her maybe ten minutes ago that he was going to head off to bed, and she’d only heard the sounds of him tossing and turning in bed. He couldn’t have injured himself. Was he sick?

Fuck

She felt her jaw drop open as her eyes widened. That was a moan. An honest to god, barely concealed moan. She took a few more steps towards the door and tried to focus her hearing. It was a little hard to hear over the sound of her own rapid heartbeat, but it was there: the slick sound of skin slapping skin.

Scully felt her entire body flush as her own arousal started to build. Mulder was only a few feet away from her, touching himself and getting off while she listened. Part of her screamed she was a pervert and she should ignore it, but the other part of her was already walking towards the door and pressing her ear to the wood.

She’d always assumed, but she’d never heard. He’d sometimes come in after a shower, all the sudden in a better mood. Sometimes she knocked on his door before he was ready to wake up and she caught sight of a prominent bulge and a flushed face. He must’ve been careful to make sure she wouldn’t hear; which is why she was certain he didn’t know she was here.

After a few more sounds of pleasure, her body really seemed to have a mind of it’s own because she all the sudden was cupping herself under her underwear as she tried to match his rhythm.

Fuck, Scul-ee

He was-he-just-ohmygod. The shock caused her to gasp and she heard him bolt upright in bed, the sound so much louder than the rest that she realized how hard she’d actually been straining to here in the first place.

Then, the same word, but with an altogether different sentiment was uttered. “Sc-Scully?”

She barely heard it though, because she was too busy rushing to the bathroom so she could run the faucett and take care of herself. Unheard.

Smell

For years, she’d never once forgotten her shower supplies. This is what she gets when she has to impromptu pack a bag at four a.m. and travel across the country. With a resigned sigh, she stomped over to the bathroom to see what off-brand Dove this shitty motel had to offer. What she found was a bar that looked used and two containers that were just as unappealing.

Mulder.

The thought sprung to mind and all the sudden it became the only thing she could think of. Call it romantic or sentimental, but she couldn’t think of anything more comforting and erotic than being engulfed in Mulder’s scent. Ever since she’d met him, it was one of her favorite things about his disregard for her personal space. Every time he’d get close to her, she’d get a huge whiff of him. She wasn’t sure what it was, but she was about to find out.

She was at the door, hand poised, when she realized she’d almost just knocked on his door in her underwear. Embarrassed at her obvious enthusiasm, she snatched a thick, fluffy robe from a nearby hanger and snuggled into it, tying it loosely around her waist before rapping on his door.

He opened the door a moment later, shirtless and ready for bed, and she watched as his eyes flickered down her body, pausing for a moment where she let the front flaps part to expose a little more cleavage than normal.

“Nice outfit,” he teased earnestly.

“Can I borrow your shower stuff?” she asked, trying to keep her own eyes from roaming his body. Especially trying to avoid the way his pyjama bottoms were hanging sensually off his hips.

“Why?” he asked, searching her eyes for something- and she hoped ‘hopeless yearning’ wasn’t what he found.

She bit her lip before answering, “I, um, forgot mine and I didn’t want to use the hotel stuff because I know yours smells better.” A mix of honesty and simplification.

“Oh is that right?” he teasingly asked as he made his way to his bag. Was he sauntering his hips on purpose?

“I mean, you just- I like your stuff,” she shrugged, playing with the wood of the doorway while admiring what she could see since he wasn’t wearing underwear underneath his thin pants.

He made his way over to her, arms filled with his hair care and body wash and handed it over to her clumsily. As his hands slid against hers, he bent down and huskily asked, “Agent Scully, are you implying that you like my scent?”

She rolled her eyes to dismiss him, but felt her face reddening at his correct guess. “Shut up, Mulder.”

When she fantasized about him later that night, her hand working between her legs as she gnawed her bottom lip, she realized how much easier it was with the lights off and the scent of him around her.

Touch

He could’ve just grabbed it for her. She knew that. He knew that.

She hadn’t heard him come in as she was stretching on her toes in an attempt to reach the window sill. It was humid in the office and she just wanted a breeze, usually Mulder would already have it open, but he wasn’t in the office yet. She hadn’t really noticed how high up it was, Mulder making it seem effortless, so here she was straining even though she was a good foot away from her goal.

Scully was so focused, she hadn’t heard Mulder come in until she heard him laugh. She was about to turn around and ask him to stop laughing and help, when he took that initiative himself. She felt arms wrap around her waist before she was hoisted up in the air. “Mulder!” she squealed, her hands coming down to clamp around his biceps.

“You looked like you needed a lift,” he laughed, moving one hand to grab her thigh from support. He was holding her like it was effortless and she felt her body reacting from his hands on her with her backside so intimately pressed against him.

She was too stunned to speak, so she leaned forward and opened the window as much as it would - she needed the breeze ten times more than she did a minute ago. As she did this, she felt his thumbs ever so slightly stroking the fabric of her skirt. “G-got it,” she stammered.

Instead of putting her down as he picked her up, he gently released his grasp so that she slowly slid down his body inch by inch until she had felt every inch of his front rub against her as she became a flustered mess. As soon as his arms would have rubbed against her breasts, he tightened his grip around her upper ribs and manually set her down. What a gentleman.

She turned around with a chastising smile and saw he was clearly amused…and as aroused as she was from their touching. “Thank you, Mulder,” she replied sweetly in a voice an octave lower than usual.

“My pleasure,” he cheekily replied.

Oh, she didn’t doubt that.

Taste

He’d been eating sunflower seeds before he kissed her. She felt that as vividly as she felt his tongue begging for entrance into her mouth. The saltiness sent shivers down her spine as he made sure she’d never taste a sunflower seed without remembering how good his body felt against hers.

It was effective.

The salt of his lips.

The salt of his sweat as she sucked on his skin.

The saltiness of his arousal in her mouth.

The saltiness of their tears of happiness intermingling as they finally did what they should have done years ago.

They rode in the car in relative silence, occasionally he would hear a small, possible, whimper from Scully, but that was it. Until he had to swerve to avoid some unexpected glass in the road. The sharp turn lightly jolted her against the door and she cried out in pain, clutching her right elbow while gritting her teeth.

Now that her pain was obvious, he couldn’t bite his tongue anymore, “Scully, please stop covering it up. You’re hurt, please let me help you. What happened?”

“While I was running, I tripped and slid down a steep incline and landed on my arm. The squad back there already thinks we’re incompetent, I didn’t want to add fuel to the fire. I’m sure it’s just a sprain. I’m going to look at it more when we get back to the motel.” He felt guilty that he hadn’t been there to help her when she fell and he felt guiltier that she didn’t feel comfortable speaking up because of the impression he left on the local police.

“Scully, I think you should go to the hospital. You sound like you’re in a lot of pain,” he was already changing directions to go to the hospital instead, despite her protests.

“Mulder, seriously let’s just go back to the motel. I can assess myself just as easily as the doctors at the hospital can. I’m tired and dirty, please.” Please was a rare word for Scully, so it added another layer of guilt when he continued on his way to the hospital.

“I’m sorry, Scully. I know you’re more than capable, but what if it’s worse than you anticipate. This is just for the best,” he pleaded. He was met with silence and it stayed that way until they were in the hospital.

He was grateful when she let him come in the examination room with her. The nurse came in, asked all the traditional information, then, before leaving, told Scully to remove her over shirt so the doctor could examine her better.

“Do you want me to leave?” He offered, not wanting to invade her privacy. He was internally glad when she shook her head.

“No, it’s fine. I have a camisole on underneath,” she informed. He noticed she didn’t even attempt to lift her right arm, instead struggling with the buttons with her left hand only. She was trying to pop the buttons out of the holes, but she was having difficulty. She tried different maneuvers and different forces, but her doctor’s dexterity wasn’t as strong in her non-dominant hand. He didn’t want to insult her by offering his help, so he was relieved when she let out an exasperated breath and asked, “Can you help me?”

He was already on his feet when he answered, “Of course.” She was sitting on the exam table, which made her taller than when she was standing up. He didn’t know whether it was residual irritation or embarrassment or a combination of both, but she kept her eyes glued to the sink in the corner.

Stopping in front of her knees, he brought his hands to the top button. For all the times I imagined doing this, these were not the circumstances, and that was not the expression on her face. He moved with quick agility, trying to ignore the intimacy of this action and trying to ignore the cleavage being exposed. It may have been a camisole, but a tight white one with a black bra underneath. Calm down buddy.

When he was done, he hooked his thumbs under the collar and started to slide the shirt down her arms, taking his time to be as gentle as possible. “Am I hurting you?”

She shook her head as he eased the shirt off her wrists, “No, thank you, Mulder.” Now that she wasn’t as covered, he could see the red discolorations along her arm, primarily around her shoulder and elbow.

When the doctor came in, he did a quick assessment and was immediately able to tell her shoulder was dislocated and, as she assumed, her elbow was sprained. The doctor started to talk about options, but Scully cut him off, “Just set it and give me a sling.”

“We actually prefer to give our patients anesthetic. Setting a dislocation can be very painful-” Oh boy.

“I’m a medical doctor. I know the pain that comes with setting. Just do it, or I’ll do it myself,” she snapped. With Scully’s determination, he knew she was beyond serious, so he was glad when the doctor relented.

“Alright. Do you want your husband to hold your good hand while I do it?” Regardless of the mislabeling, he hoped Scully said yes. He hated feeling useless while she’s in pain.

“He’s not my husband, but yes, Mulder come here.” This was not a request, this was a demand, and that was evident by the way she shyly stuck out her hand, expectantly awaiting him to come over. He did what she asked without a moment's hesitation.

“Oops, boyfriend , sorry. He just wears the face of devoted husband so well.” Mulder blushed in embarrassment at the man’s words, but was happy when Scully didn’t furthur correct him. Instead, she just wrapped her lithe fingers around his own and failed at repressing a smile.

Mulder’s amusement was cut short when the doctor moved to her shoulder. He personally didn’t know how painful this was, but by the way Scully’s face was set, he expected it was really bad.

He placed one hand on Scully’s shoulder blade area, and the other was on her bicep, lifting it up. “Okay, I’m going to count down,” Mulder felt Scully’s grip on his hand tighten as she nodded her head. “Three, two, one.” He rotated her arm up and there was an audible ‘pop’ in the room as she cried out, death gripping Mulder’s hand. It pained Mulder seeing Scully in so much pain, but he was glad it seemed like the worst was over.

The doctor let go as she let go of Mulder’s hand. She tentatively grabbed the shoulder and moved it around a bit, letting out a sigh of relief at the new mobility. The doctor put a sling on her arm, to stabilize her elbow, and told her to avoid jostling it around. Mulder was pretty sure the man had more instructions, but he was yet again stopped by Scully who insisted she already knew all of this.

The ride to the motel was in relative silence, Scully seemed exhausted from the whole ordeal, so Mulder just played the radio and drove. When they got to the motel, Mulder went around the side of the car and helped Scully get out and to her room. “Is there anything you need?” He offered.

She was silent for a minute, the furrow of her brow telling him she was internally debating something. “If it makes you uncomfortable, please feel free to say no. I can manage by myself.” He nodded and she continued, “I’m still dirty from my fall, and I want to take a bath,” at the widening of his eyes, she laughed and said, “I can do that by myself perfectly fine. I just need help getting out of my clothes since I can’t lift my arm very well.”

“Sure, just let me know if I’m doing something wrong,” Mulder answered, trying to act like his heart wasn’t hammering out of his chest. They didn’t rebutton the overshirt after the sling as put on, so that slid off with relative ease. After that, he gently undid the shoulder strap so that the sling was just hanging off her arm. “Do you want me to take it off by lifting it over your head, going around the sling, or do you want me to push the straps down your arms and have you step out of it?”

She took a moment to consider her options before answering, “The latter, it sounds easier.” Nodding, he stretched the thin spaghetti straps down her arms, taking extra precautions to stretch it out enough so she could drag her arm through. When her arms were free, he slid the shirt over her breasts, trying to ignore the black silk taunting him, and drug the shirt down her body until she was able to step out of it.

He set the shirt next to the button down and looked back at his shy partner, standing in just her dress pants and her bra. He cleared his throat and asked, “What next?”

She reached her own hand down and tried to undo her belt, but the job was foreign to her without her other hand. He didn’t need to be told, so he stepped closer to her and undid her belt, setting it in the discard pile. After that, he reached back down, undid the button on her pants, and slid the zipper down. He got down on one knee and helped her shimmy out of her pants, feeling reassured he was doing good when she placed a hand on his shoulder for balance.

Scully’s in her underwear in front of me, Scully’s in her underwear in front of me, Scully’s in her underwear in front of me. The mantra repeated in his head like a taunt as he folded her pants, trying to take a moment to calm down a little bit. This was a lot of trust she was displaying in him and the last thing he wanted her to think was that he was getting off on her vulnerability.

When he returned his focus to her, she had turned around and was exposing her back to him. Slowly, he moved closer, so that he could practically feel her body heat radiating off of her in waves. He lifted his nervous fingers to her bra clasp and undid it, with a bit more struggle than he would have liked. It’s been a long time.

He immediately felt the weight of her breast when the clasp was undone, and he slid the straps down her shoulders, trying his hardest to ignore the intimacy of the act. Turning back around, he saw she could handle the underwear herself, as she was starting to ease it down her hips, and he averted his gaze until she had pulled a towel around herself. She turned around with a smile, along with flaming red cheeks he was positive matched his own. “Thank you Mulder, that’s all I needed.”

“Please just shout if there’s anything you need,” he offered.

She nodded and went into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. He let out a long breath, but didn’t leave his spot until he heard she was in the tub safely.

He went into his room, keeping the adjoining door cracked so he could hear if she needed anything. Her bath lasted around thirty minutes and then she was out and in the room. He could hear her messing through some things, but she hadn’t called out for him yet. “Mulder, can you come here?” Spoke too soon.

Even though she called him in, he still knocked on the slightly ajar door so he wouldn’t barge in on her privacy. When she gave the affirmative, he saw her sitting on the bed in her normal silk shorts and top. “What’s up?”

“I got my pants on and my sling through the arm hole, but I need you to button up my top,” she mumbled. Scully was a very independent woman, Mulder was honestly willing to bet she had asked for help more times in the last hour than she had in years, and he knew that took a lot for her. He felt honored that she entrusted him this much.

Making his way to kneel in front of her sitting form, he was brainstorming every gross thought he possibly could to distract himself from Scully’s intense cleavage being exposed by the gaping open shirt, he could see her poking through the fabric ever so slightly, and the smell of her body wash was invading his senses. He had a rhythm going up with every button. Button, Skinner naked, button, A Lone Gunmen orgy, button , the cigarette smoking man in a thong. He continued the process until her shirt was completely done up. He then reached the sling strap around her and started putting it back together on her good shoulder.

“Thank you for all your help, Mulder. I’m sorry for being such a bother.” That’s so Scully, injures her arm in two places, but is still worried about being an inconvenience.

“I just want to help you in whatever way I can,” he reassured, finishing the strap. He pulled back, but not before placing a tender, loving kiss on her forehead. “Goodnight, Scully. Please let me know if there’s anything else you need. I’m just a holler away.”

… .

“Mulder,” she said softly outside of her motel room. “I’m fine.”

“Scully,” he began, unable to find any other words.

He wanted to tell her how easily she fit into his arms. How she could feel safe with him. That is was okay to cry. That, in the coming hours, her shipwrecked emotions would show its ugly face again, and she would lose control. She would panic.

“Mulder, I’m fine,” she whispered. “I promise.”

Don’t make a promise you can’t keep, he thought.

“Scully, I just think–”

“I didn’t ask you, Mulder. Good night.”

Without another word, she shut the door in his face. He licked his lips and nodded to himself. He looked down at his feet and heard her click on the tv and start the shower beyond the locked door. He would leave their adjoining door open just in case, even cracking it. He would stay up for her, he would wait for forever if he had to.

… .

Scully saw the scrapes on her face and bright red-turning-purple bruises emerging over her pale skin on her back and side of her ribs as she tore. The adrenaline was finally wearing off and her brain was finally able to process the night. The fear. The uncertainty of her death. The fight or flight instinct kicking in. Mulder. At this point, her body was on autopilot and she had placed her self in the scalding water, as she absently began to scrub her skin roughly over the already injured skin, marking her pale body even worse in punishment (was it punishment?).

Scully stopped immediately. Her last thought was of Mulder. Him holding her. Protecting her. But Pfaster. Pfaster was there. Looming over her. He wasn’t a man. Wait. Demon. No wait. He was human. Pfaster was a human. He bleed. But he loomed over her, not a man, but something else. He was looming over her.

She was not in her bath in the seedy motel. No. She was back in that closest, trapped, and tied, her mouth gagged trying to scream.

The next thing she knew was that large, warm hands grabbed her flailing wrists, stilling her. “Scully! Scully!”

She looked wildly around the room and realized what was happening. The bright light of the bathroom blinded her and she focused on the warm, concerned hazel orbs of her partner’s eyes. “Mulder?” she whispered distantly. “What are you doing here?”

She looked wildly down, noticing her naked body. He immediately let her wrists go and turned his head, useless grabbing a towel and holding it out as he looked away. “Um, you were screaming.”

“I wasn’t. I would have remembered it.”

“You were.” He knew better than to recite spurting psychological analysis and profile her. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her discretely stand and he winced when he glimpsed at the damage she took. “Um, I’m sorry. I’ll leave, Scully.”

She sighed, and wrapped the town around her small battered body and looked down at the draining water from the tub. When did she pull the plug? “No,” she sighed, “um, can you wait outside for me?”

“Sure. Do you, uh, want me to get you anything?”

She held the towel tightly around her and mumbled into it, “No thank you.”

“Just uh…”

“I’ll call your name.”

“Scully,” he paused, at the doorframe. “It’s okay to feel. I had…I had panic attacks for years after Sam was taken. It’s okay to feel.”

Scully kept her eyes closed, feeling tears, shattered into a million pieces completely abandoned. She imagined Mulder snaking his arms again around her, swallowing her whole, and shielding her from the evils of the world. And he did it all so selflessly. She raised her head and stared at the closed bathroom door.

Outside, in the bedroom, Mulder sat uncomfortably at the edge of the bed, flipping uselessly through the television as the antennas failed to provide any proper picture and instead gave the “ssssccchhhh” sound of garbled, empty air. Uselessly, he turned off the tv and saw Scully open the door wearing an oversized gray FBI tee shirt and loose sleeping pants. Her hair was damp, just like that first night in the graveyard. She watched him wearily as if she was debating on trusting him.

“I’m so used to keeping my emotions inwards,” she began softly. “You saw that when my father died. Your sympathy…” Scully caught herself. “You empathy…you genuinely cared for my well being.”

“Why wouldn’t I, Scully?”

She shrugged, keeping her arms around herself. She kicked at the stained red rug and walked cautiously towards him. “I’ve never…I’ve never been in a situation like that, Mulder. Completely helpless. Bound.” She shuddered and sat next to him at the far edge of the bed. “You said it was okay to feel. Did the panic attacks ever stop, Mulder?”

He leaned back on his hands thoughtfully. “Not until recently. There was a time about three months ago that they came back, worse than ever, but after about five weeks, they went away again.”

He gazed at the ceiling and then finally looked at her. She did the mental calculations and connected her abduction and return. The double-loaded meaning weighed heavily on her heart and she scooted closer to her partner. “What…uh…what happened?”

“A petite, arrogant doctor, proclaiming that science ruled all walked into the basement office and introduced herself with a handshake,” he said softly, letting the unsaid message linger between them.

Scully nodded. “Will you stay…just for tonight, of course?” She admitted after a long, painful pause.

“Just for tonight, of course. I’ll, uh, I’ll take the floor. Just let me grab a pillow and blanket from next door.” He moved to get up and she caught his hand and looked at her in surprise. “Scully?”

“Just…I want you close.”

“Whatever you want.”

Wordless, Mulder pulled back the blankets and she slipped in on the right side and Mulder laid down on the far edge of the left side of the bed. Quietly, she grabbed his hand and pulled his arm and body along like a blanket until he spooned quietly behind her. She sighed and turned out the light. The street lights danced in the shadows as he took a deep breath and kissed her temple. “Was it me, Mulder?”

“Yeah,” he confessed to the darkness, to her. “I don’t know why, but it was.”

Scully ‘hmmed’ and buried her face into the pillow. “Do you think I’ll heal, Mulder,” she asked in a rare moment of vulnerability.

“You’re the strongest person I know,” he whispered simply.