Title Just Words II (1/1)
Author Rachel Anton
E-Mail RaValliano@aol.com
Rating NC-17
Category S
Keywords MSR
Spoilers Small Chinga, nothing major.
Disclaimers Nope, still don't own em. Mulder and
Scully belong to the surfer God and to each other.
Summary Scully's take on the events in Just Words I.
Note This is Scully's take and is somewhat different
than Mulder's portrayal of events ala Bad Blood. Keep
in mind that it's supposed to be that way and is not an
author screw up. ) And please, let me know if it
works!




There is something strange in the atmosphere tonight.
It's going to rain soon. It's one of those Spring
evenings where everything in nature seems to be
waiting. The clouds are almost oppressive. The humidity
intense. I open one of the windows to let in some of
the charged air. Waiting...for what? 

I feel as though I am waiting as well. For the
beginning of something? Or the end? I am not sure. But
I am filled with the nervous energy of the waiter. The
person who is close to...something. Yeah that's it.
Something. Real profound.

I close my journal angrily. Those words don't even come
close to making sense. What am I trying to say here?
Waiting. Waiting for the goddamn weekend to be over
probably Dana. 

It's been nice so far. Really it has. Last night I
spent two hours in the tub, read a great book and fell
asleep more content that I've felt in a long time. And
this morning I had a lovely breakfast and went for a
nice drive. I even did some clothes shopping. It was a
pleasant, relaxing day. Until I got home. Until I tried
to finally do what I had been planning on doing this
weekend in the first place. Some reflection.

I wanted to sort through some things. To think about
the state of my life, the direction I should be heading
in. It's been so long since I've really had a moment to
myself to think about this and I needed it. 

The problem is that when I think about my life all
roads lead back to one place. And that place is covered
with a big fat question mark these days. Ever since
I've known Mulder I have defined myself in relation to
him. His goals, his dreams, I accepted or rejected them
but either way they helped define who and what I was.
Either way I walked forward with him. Knowing what he
was after and wanting desperately to help him get it. 

But lately, lately I have little to no idea what Mulder
wants or expects from this journey we are on. I know
that he needs me in his life still, I know that he
cares for me with a fierce loyalty. But the path has
become somewhat blurry. Both of our beliefs have been
shaken and the motivations behind each of our actions
called into question. 

Long story short; I don't know what he wants anymore
and it has left me floundering. This is not as pathetic
as it might sound. I am not completely reliant on him
for my identity as a human being. But a huge part of my
life has always been the give and take between us, the
action and reaction. The passion of his beliefs has
always been a guide for me. 

And now, well I'm just not sure about anything anymore.
If I knew what was driving him it would help me sort
through my own feelings, my desires. Well never mind
about my desires. We're not even going to go there.

The problem is, if I want to figure any of this out I
need to talk to him. I need to call him. After I
lectured him for a half an hour on Friday about leaving
me the hell alone this weekend. How embarrassing.

It is strange that he hasn't called me yet. I was not
expecting him to last even half this long. He's
probably not even home. If he were home he would have
called me by now. Maybe he went away for the weekend. I
can't help but feel sad about that possibility. 

Dammit I miss him. What IS my problem. I just want to
hear his voice. Just call him. He's not even home. Just
listen to the message, get your fix, and stop thinking
about him. 

I leave the kitchen table and move to the living room,
to the phone. I sit down on the floor by the couch and
start to dial the number. This is so stupid. God is
this ridiculous. The phone rings once, twice, five
times. I was right. He's not home. I am partially
relieved, partially disappointed. I can't wait to hear
his voice on the machine.

"Hello." Oh. Oh shit. He's there. Hang up. No don't.
Shit. What the hell am I doing? 

"Hello?!" God he sounds bitchy as hell.

"Mulder...um hi."

"Scully? What is it?"

Good question. "Um...nothing. Nothing. I was just.."

"Just what?" Shit. How am I supposed to answer that. I
am not supposed to be talking to him at all. How in the
world do I explain myself. 

"Scully are you there?"

"Yeah. Yeah I'm here. Whatcha doing?" 

He sighs melodramatically. "Cleaning grout." he says
with a pout that I can see through the telephone.
"You?"

"I'm...I was thinking. Just thinking."

"Scully I thought you didn't want to talk to me until
Monday." Well here we go. I might as well just come out
with it. There is no real excuse other than the truth.
What I've really been thinking about.

"Well I actually have something I wanted to ask you
about Mulder. Something I've been thinking about."

"Oh yeah. What's that Scully?" Why does he have to
sound so damn cocky. Why does he have to gloat about
this. 

"I was just...just thinking and...wondering about.."
God spit it out woman. "Mulder what do you want out of
your life?" I wonder if that sounded as completely
random as I think it did. He is silent for a moment. A
long uncomfortable moment. God Mulder, please don't
make a joke and change the subject. Please just give me
a straight answer for once.

"I'd like to see the Yankees win the World Series
again." Great. Fucking great. I think maybe I'll hang
up now.

"Mulder I think..."

"Scully I...I just don't know how to answer that
question." He sounds like he doesn't know the answer
either. I suppose that's no real surprise. We are both
so lost lately.

"I know it's a difficult question Mulder. Believe me I
know. But I just...I used to know and...just tell me
the truth Mulder. Whatever it is."

"The truth?"

"Yes, the truth."

"The truth is Scully...what I want is not that unusual.
In fact it's downright normal." He sounds hesitant and
shy suddenly. "I'd really...I'd be happy just to have
someone Scully." To have someone? What does he mean? He
has me. Doesn't he? "I'd be happy just to have someone
I love feel safe in my arms. Someone I could hold and
protect. Someone who" his voice catches for a moment
and I am afraid he is going to cry. Oh Mulder. Is that
all? "Someone who loves me, who I could protect and
cherish. Someone I could share everything with..." He
drifts off and a sigh escapes me. It sounds so
wonderful. I wonder if he wants that person to be me as
much as I want to be that person.

"When I picture my ideal life, Scully all I can see now
is lying next to someone, holding her, knowing that she
is happy just to be in my arms, that she has faith in
me and that she trusts me completely. Even with her
heart." My heart clenches in my chest for both of us.
For this man who is so desperate to be loved, who has
so much love to give. And for me, this woman who is so
afraid to let someone love her. We are quite a pair.
Does he know how badly I want to be that woman? How
that picture brings a smile of longing to my face? I
want to tell him. 

"Mulder..." But I am a coward. I cannot tell him this.
Not yet. There is a silence between us, thick with
unspoken need. 

"Tell me how you're holding her. Close your eyes and
tell me what you see." I know what I am seeing. I need
to know if it's the same picture. 

"Um..okay. We're lying together on my couch, under a
blanket. She's in warm fuzzy flannel pajamas. She looks
safe and warm. I'm in sweatpants. Her head is resting
under my chin as she sleeps and she has the most
beautiful, peaceful smile. I know that smile is there
because of me. That I make her feel happy and content."
Yes. Oh yes that is beautiful Mulder. His voice is so
wistful when he speaks of it I think I am going to cry.
And then he goes on, in a more gravely tone.

"One of my arms is around her back, clutching her body
to mine. The other is wrapped in her hair." He stops
for a moment and I am struck by a vivid mental image of
myself wrapped in his naked arms. It's making me itch.
It's making me hot. "Her arms are wrapped around my
stomach and our legs are so tangled up that I can't
tell where she ends and I begin." What is he doing? Oh
my God what is he doing to me? He is starting to
breathe heavily. Or is that me? Without even realizing
it my free hand starts stroking my leg, imagining how
it would feel. "I'm holding her so tight that I can
feel every beat of her heart against me. Her body feels
so good. God she feels..." I clutch myself through the
material of my sweatpants. Oh my God. Jesus. "I bury my
face in her hair and it's so soft, it smells so sweet,
she smells so good..." I moan. I can't help it. Dammit.
What's the matter with me? He must think I'm a
desperate horny mess. But he's doing it on purpose. God
he must be. He must be trying to turn me on. He must. 

Is this what he dreams about at night? Is this his
fantasy? It's so much tamer than the thoughts that keep
me awake, and yet it is so erotic and exciting in its
tenderness and simplicity. Is this what the king of
porn masturbates to? I wouldn't have thought it but the
way he was saying it...I need to know. Can I ask him
that? Is that all right? 

I have no idea what is all right right now. This is too
strange. Almost dizzy with the need to understand I ask
him if this is his fantasy. He sucks in a breath and
asks me what exactly I mean by fantasy. His voice is so
damn sexy. Jesus Christ. He's not going to make this
easy is he. 

I don't even know what I mean. I don't know what I'm
saying or thinking anymore. Suddenly he mutters a
frighteningly arousing "Yeah." Oh God. Yeah what? Just
yeah? Is he touching himself right now? Shit, I am. How
did that happen? 

"It's one of my fantasies Scully. You wanna hear
another one?" What? What did he just say? What the fuck
did he just say? And beyond what he said, the way he
said it. My God. Lord and Jesus. There is no mistaking
that tone, no doubt what he is talking about here. But
is he kidding? Is he teasing me? Does he really want to
do this? Do I?

I don't know. I don't know. But I do. God I do. And I
tell him that. And I wait. What kind of fantasy will it
be? Another sweet image of domestic tranquillity?
Somehow I doubt that. My center is starting to twitch
in anticipation and I grind my palm against it. What
does Mulder want? What makes him hot? God I am starting
to sweat. How did we get here? I feel completely out of
control. 

Is this all it takes? One description of a hug and I am
masturbating on the living room floor, begging for
more. Maybe I am a desperate, horny mess. Or maybe it's
just Mulder. Mulder and that damn voice. Where did that
voice go anyway? He's been eerily silent for some time
now. Has he changed his mind? Was it a fucking joke?
Did he expect me to laugh it off and hang up? 

"Mulder...are...are you gonna tell me?" Oh my God. I
sound so fucking pathetic. He is probably holding the
phone away from him so I won't hear him laughing at me.
Just when I am ready to hang up he starts talking.
Quietly, lyrically. And I try to imagine the scene he
creates. 

Naked? No. His set up is all wrong. This needs to be
real. I need to see it. Underwear. Better. Much better.
Boxers? Silk? Cotton? Black boxer briefs. Oh yeah. I
like that. I can see his image clearly now. Lying
sprawled out on his couch, sleeping on his back, his
upper body covered in the thin sheen of sweat he
develops when he is in slumber, the Indian blanket
tangled around his legs. 

Once he has set the scene his voice lowers. God it's
hypnotic. He's bound. He's blindfolded. He pauses for a
moment to let this sink in. To test the waters. Am I
offended? Disgusted? I can hear his questions in the
silence. I let my own silence be an answer in itself. A
disoriented Mulder, waking up with a black silk sash
covering his eyes, his hands cuffed behind his back.
This is a fantasy of mine as well. How bizarre. How
unlikely. How completely unsurprising.

She has done this to him. She. Who is she? Is she a
stranger in this fantasy? A lover? Does he even know?
Does it even matter? I try to find my voice. My throat
is so dry I don't know if I can even ask. 

"Do you know her?" I manage to choke out. He knows her.
He knows her well. Well enough to give her keys to his
apartment. I have keys to his apartment. It could be
me. In my mind it is. I suddenly imagine myself there,
pacing over him, looking at his body, witness to his
helplessness. I slip my hands under the waistband of my
pants and stroke myself through my panties. I can feel
the moisture pooling there, dripping down my legs. I
stifle a moan into the cushions of the couch. Why do I
bother? Not sure. I think part of me is still afraid to
acknowledge that we are actually doing this.

He continues. His fantasy woman whispers in his ear.
"Do you trust me?" Do you trust me. Of course. No
wonder Mulder has this fantasy. He needs to make love
to someone he trusts. He needs to know that he can be
completely at someone's mercy, to surrender control
entirely, and to know that person won't hurt him. To
know that she loves him enough not to take advantage of
his vulnerability. You are the only one I trust. So
many years have passed since he said that to me. I
never forgot it. And it's never changed. 

"She runs her fingernails over by bare chest and my
shoulders. She touches me so lightly but it's enough to
turn me on. It's enough to make me hard." Hard. It
makes him hard. Oh Jesus. I can see it. I can see his
cock, pressing against the material of his underwear. I
pull my sweatpants down and remove them from my body.
My hand slips underneath my panties and finally come
into contact with my bare flesh. "She orders me to
stand up. I stagger to my feet and she leads me away
from the couch. I'm standing in the middle of the floor
and her hands slip under the waistband of my underwear. 
I think she is going to touch me. I want her to touch
me. God Scully. I want it so bad." He is breathless,
panting out his words. Oh Mulder. So do I. Oh God let
me touch you. "But she doesn't." Dammit. "She pulls
them off and steps back. I can sense her staring at me.
Taking in every inch of flesh. Devouring me with her
eyes."

Devouring him with my eyes. I can see every angle and
every plane. Every ripple of every muscle. Standing
naked in his living room. Bound. Hard. That's the only
part I can't see. Having no first hand knowledge of his
erect penis I have to use my imagination. And I do. I
am generous. 

"You wanna know what she does next?" 

Please. Oh please. "Yeah"

"She grabs my shoulders and pushes me down to my knees
in front of her. I can smell her. God I can practically
taste her already. She must be naked there." I pull my
panties off. "I want to taste her. She digs her nails
into my hair and pulls me to her, burying my face
between her legs. Oh God she tastes so good. So wet...I
slide my tongue through her folds. All around, in and
out of her. I know how she likes it. All I wanna do is
please her. Make her feel so good that she can't even
stand anymore. She cries out and grinds herself into my
face. She starts to tremble as I flick my tongue back
and forth over her clit, faster and faster." Oh God. 
Oh my fucking God. I start to flick my index finger
over my clit. If I concentrate on his voice hard enough
it actually becomes his tongue.

"It makes me so hot to be doing this to her. I wanna
touch myself so bad. My cock is pulsing...I'm shaking
so hard. But I'm bound so tight, I can't do anything
but lick her sweetness. She's gasping and clutching my
head and...God I can tell you're about to come." You?
You're about to come? Did he say that? Am I
hallucinating? "I wanna make you come." Oh my God. He
wants to make me come. I am almost there.

"Oh...Mulder"

"But she doesn't let me. She pushes me away." She
again. I whimper in disappointment and frustration.
It's back to her. She is leading him to the kitchen
chair. She is tying his ankles to the legs. But it's
me. I know that now. In both of our minds it is me. 

"She stands behind me and starts licking my ear. I try
to turn my head to get closer to her lips, her sweet
lips. I want them. I need to kiss them. I need to kiss
you. She lets me but only for a minute, only long
enough to taste herself on my lips and tongue." I bring
my fingers from myself and kiss them, suck on them. For
a moment they are Mulder's lips. God he must not even
realize what he's saying. 

"She whispers in my ear, asks me if I want her to fuck
me. But she knows that I do. She knows how bad I want
her. How much I need her, to be inside her..." We both
moan simultaneously at the thought of it. "She runs her
hands over me...I can't tell where she is anymore. All
I feel is her fingers stroking my skin, so lightly. God
I want more. More Scully, God please...more." He
whimpers desperately. Oh Mulder. I want to give you
more. I want to give you everything. 

"I feel her tongue running over my skin, tasting me
everywhere. So good...feels so good..." He grunts into
the phone. I can't believe this. I can't fucking
believe this. The noises he is making, his voice. I
don't think anything has ever turned me on as much as
this. For the first time I allow myself to imagine him
for real. To picture him there in his apartment.
Touching himself. The way that I am. 

"Finally I feel her tongue swirl around the head of my
cock. So good Scully. So good. I need more. I try to
move, to jerk into your mouth but I can't, I'm tied so
tight. And then she's gone and I...I don't know where
she is and I'm scared because what if she left...what
if she left me like that but I know you wouldn't
Scully. I know it in my heart. And do you know why?"

Because you trust me. Because you know I would never
leave you. Because you know I love you. She returns to
him. Her again. She is on top of him. Finally. Finally
he is inside her. And she is sliding up and down his
cock, slowly, so slowly. I slip one then two fingers
inside me and move them in and out at an agonizing
pace.

"She's so hot and so tight, so fucking good. I want to
move, I wanna go deeper, harder, but I can't. I start
to beg, please, please Scully, let me move so that I
can pound into you the way I need to, the way you want
me to..."

I want that. Yes I want that. I moan and call out his
name, clutching the receiver tightly to my ear.

"She starts to move faster herself. God
Scully..harder..faster...like that."

I start pounding my fingers inside and grind my palm
against myself.

"I need to see her face when she comes Scully. I beg
her to take off the blindfold, to let me see her. She
knows what I want. She always knows what I want. She
slides her fingers under the cloth and then there is
brightness and confusion and then I see...God you're so
beautiful Scully. So fucking beautiful."

I am close. Holy Jesus I am so close.

His next word pour out in a frenzied torrent, "You kiss
me again, and again and you scream into my mouth and...
and you are starting to tremble, to move faster and
your hands are all over me and you're tightening around
me and I...I..."

What Mulder? What? He stops for a moment and I am close
to tears. I am gonna come. Any second. My whole body is
shaking and I can't even keep my eyes open anymore. I
am starting to see a kaleidoscope of colors in my
eyelids, dancing light everywhere. God Mulder don't
stop now.

And then he asks me. Where I am. What I am doing. What
I'm wearing. He makes it real. He makes it not a
fantasy. He makes it us, here and now, making love to
each other over the phone.

I manage to stutter out that I am on the living room
floor, in nothing but a T-shirt, touching myself as he
talks to me. That I am wet, that I am about to come.
Any second. Jesus.

I beg him to tell me about himself. What he's doing. 

"I'm on the couch, with my head resting on the
cushions. I'm in jeans and nothing else." Perfect. Oh
God that's perfect. "They're unbuttoned and I'm
stroking my cock Scully, for you, I'm so...I'm so hard
for you...so hot" his voice breaks into a trembling
moan and I can hardly stand anymore. I am going to die,
right here, right now, on this phone. He whispers
raggedly "I wanna be in you so bad...so bad..." His
words send shivers racing over my entire body but
centering in the pulsing bundle of nerves that is about
to explode.

"Mulder...I'm gonna come" I manage to gasp out a
warning.

"Oh God..me too...me too Scully. God yeah..come for me.
Please come for me...I wanna hear it. Let me hear you
come." 

I want him. Oh my God how I want him. I want him here.
I need him here. My hand is enough to bring me release
but it isn't enough to fill me. Not any more. I need
him.

As if he has heard my thoughts Mulder cries out a
response. The sound of his need, of his impending
climax sets my hips to lifting off the ground, rotating
blindly in the air, reaching out for him.

I try to tell him this but I am more or less
incoherent. He seems to understand though. He calls to
me.

"Go with it baby. God...yeah. Come with me...come for
me. Come Scully...come on..."

My hand is a complete blur of blinding motion against
myself. I bite down on my lip hard enough to draw
blood.

"Scully...Scully...I'm throbbing, burning, Scully I'm
on fire. So close...so close. Love. You."

The entire world collapses in on itself and I am
jerking frantically into my hand, my whole body
practically levitating off the floor, my voice calling
out incoherent gibberish that even I cannot understand.

And then I hear him, screaming my name, screaming his
love, and I see him, in my mind's eye, trembling,
sweating, eyes squeezed shut, mouth open wide,
coming...for me. 

Love. Me. He loves me. I knew this. I've known this for
some time. But knowing it and hearing him say it as he
comes are two entirely different things. 

I lay still in a pool of my own moisture for several
minutes, panting, recovering, listening to him do the
same. When the frenzy of the moment finally passes I
start to feel a flicker of panic. What just happened
here? What the hell just happened? What does it mean?
What are we now? What the hell are we going to do?

I've imagined our first sexual experience countless
times, in countless ways. I have to say this has never
been one of them. Does this even count as a sexual
experience? We haven't even touched. Just words. It's
just words. 

But words are important. A word, properly uttered, at
the right time, in the right place, can be a caress. I
learned this from Mulder a long time ago. And these
words...God...what have we done?

"Mulder what...what the hell did we just do?"

He informs me that we just had phone sex. Or at least
that's what he thinks we did. Well, that's a big
fucking help. I think I managed to figure that much out
on my own Mulder. But I laugh. I laugh because he is
such a wise ass and so damn sweet about it and because
I am happy and dizzy and confused and because I still
feel almost high from this entire experience. And then
he asks me if I liked it. In such a shy and desperate
way and I fall in love with him all over again. How
could I not like it? I am still laughing when I tell
him to figure that out for himself.

Suddenly he is deadly serious. Suddenly he tells me
"I want to come over there Scully." and my world
collapses again. Over here? He wants to come over here.
I look down at my damp hand resting on my leg. That
could be his hand. Not just in my mind, or in his mind,
but in reality. Tonight. In about forty-five minutes.
Half an hour if he speeds, which I am sure he will. 

Is that really what I want? Is it really what he wants?
Or are we both just feeling like it is because of what
we just did? I didn't expect this. I didn't plan for
this. Not tonight. I'm not ready. Am I? 

Christ woman it's been five goddamn years. How much
more ready do you have to get? Did I really think I'd
ever be more ready? I don't know. I just feel like it's
happening so fast, spinning out of control.

"Mulder I'm not sure..."

"Scully the things you said...when you came...you
said..." He drifts off and I am left to wonder. What
exactly did I say? I haven't a clue. Probably that I
wanted him to come over. Because I did. And I do. But I
am afraid. 

"Scully I'm coming over. I'm coming over now." And then
he is gone. I am holding a dead reciever in my hand and
I am left with the knowledge that he is on his way over
here whether I like it or not. And I still haven't
decided.

I sit in a state of near shock, completely motionless,
still holding the damn telephone to my ear, for a long
time. I don't even know how long. He's coming over.
Now. Right now. After awhile I start to realize that I
should get off the floor and put some fucking pants on. 

I manage to put the phone down and stand on shaking
legs. I start to pull on the panties and sweatpants I
was wearing before but realize they are soaked with my
juices. Better head to the closet. 

As I clean myself off a bit and find new clothes my
fear over Mulder's impending arrival starts to give way
to excitement. Then giddiness. Then back to fear. As I
am lapsing back into excitement the phone rings. It's
him. It's got to be. Telling me what? That he's changed
his mind? He's not coming. It was temporary insanity.
The thought and the devastation it causes in me makes
me see just how badly I do want him to come over.

I pick up the phone with nervous trepidation.

"Hello."

"Scully, I...I know I wasn't supposed to call you this
weekend..." He is such a dead man. "But I was kind of
wondering if maybe you had some fantasies of your own
you felt like talking about." 

"Who is this?" 

"Scully?" He sounds terrified for a moment. What a
schmuck. I laugh at both his eagerness and his
silliness.

"Mulder I hope you're not talking on the phone while
you're driving. You know the statistics..."

"Yeah I know the statistics Scully. So you know if you
don't have any off the top of your head, I've got
plenty I'd like to get off my chest."

"I'm sure you do. Just get your little butt over here
in one piece."

"My butt huh? That's a good place to start..."

"Mulder I'm hanging up now."

"But it's such a long drive Scully."

"Mulder you don't even wanna know the fatality
statistics for phone sex while driving. Pretty scary
stuff."

"Scully..." He is whining. Why can't I wipe this goofy
grin off my face? "Scully you didn't put pants on did
you?"

"Just get over here Mulder. And slow down."

"I'll slow down if you tell me one. Come on Scully.
Just a quickie. Please."

How can I resist when he sounds so pathetic?

"Well Mulder, since you asked, I've got a long standing
fantasy involving you and me and that blue Taurus and a
blow job..." As I speak I can hear the blaring horns
and the screeching brakes in Mulder's wake and I know
that he will be here very soon. And that we will
finally be able to bring life to our fantasies in more
than just words.


End part II 
You're gonna have to use your imagination for the rest )