TITLE: Tootsie Pop I
AUTHOR: Evielouise
EMAIL ADDRESS: evielouise@hotmail.com
FEEDBACK: Always welcome and appreciated, as long as it's a raving compliment or constructive criticism.
DISTRIBUTION STATEMENT: Archive anywhere. I'd like to know, but it's not necessary.
SPOILER WARNING: Set soon after The Unnatural, and therefore contains references to such. I was inspired by all that cavorting and giggling.
RATING: Very NC-17.
CONTENT WARNING: The following story is contrived, cliché-ridden, unrealistic, and unhygienic. And really, really smutty. ~Sap alert~ as well. Don't venture further unless you dig that kind of thing.
CLASSIFICATION: MSR, H
DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters, etc.
SUMMARY: Mulder gets the munchies whilst doing paperwork in the basement with Scully.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This little first-time effort is a blatant rip-off of every fanfic I have ever read. Not an original bone in its body. Call it a tribute if it'll make you feel any better.
This is dedicated to my fellow Bimbo Nympho Alien Junior Leaguers: Sista' J & Sista' A. You're inspirational, bimbos. Thanks for suffering through this whole ordeal with me. Don't know what I'd do without ya'. <sniff>
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Part 1: Brother, Can You Spare a Moonpie? (or Bite Me, Mulder.)
Mulder's stomach growled. He peered guardedly from behind the mountain of paperwork and files on his desktop to ascertain whether Scully had noticed. Not a chance, dammit. She resolutely kept her eyes on her work, refusing to grace Mulder with her attention. He ran his fingers through his unruly hair with resignation and sighed loudly, fluttering the expense reports in his weary hands. When Scully was in one of her moods, and mad as hell to boot, nothing short of an errant bee in her collar or a rampaging sewer monster could divert her from the task at hand.
And the task was one that Mulder particularly loathed: the paperwork required to close their latest X-file, an X-file that had admittedly gotten out of hand. But how on earth was Mulder to have known that his contact on this most recent doozie of a case was a compulsive liar? She had seemed perfectly reliable when he'd done a background check on her: a schoolteacher, for Christ's sakes, living in rural Kentucky with a spotless work record, no prior police record, not even any outstanding parking tickets or overdue library book fines. And the lady had a possible X-file on her hands.
So he and Scully had flown all the way to bumfuck Egypt...Kentucky...wherever-- in rainy weather and gut-wrenching turbulence to investigate the schoolteacher's story, and, well, things had gone from bad to worse. Beholding all those corn crops surrounding the woman's bustling hometown metropolis of Beasleyville hadn't improved Scully's mood after the bumpy flight in the least. She'd continually surveilled the area for suspicious-looking bees. And then there was that whole pigsty incident. Man. Mulder shook his head regretfully at the memory. He was sure Scully's suit had been ruined. The culminating event had been an unfortunate chase involving the aforementioned schoolmarm and several kinfolk and neighbors in a recreational vehicle. The resulting explosion was admittedly pretty messy too. But at least no one had been killed or maimed, right? Even so, Scully would still probably never forgive him for this debacle.
She had maintained a nerve-wracking, bone-chilling silence in the car as they had driven back to the Dew Drop Inn Lounge and Motor Court to clean up, refusing to meet his eyes. Little did he know, Mulder was about to get himself into even deeper shit.
He had taken a long, hot shower to rid his body of hog-wallow filth, gravel-road grit, and pure corn liquor, which had been the igniting agent resulting in the aforementioned spectacular RV explosion. He mulled over possible excuses and various apologies, rehearsing a few of them in front of the bathroom mirror as he shaved, complete with what he imagined to be appropriately sober and remorseful expressions and hand gestures.
Mulder dressed slowly in an impeccable gray suit, wondering which particular approach would work best with his partner. And he was suddenly struck with guilt at his own manipulative plotting. He respected Scully too much to try that bullshit on her. He had screwed up royally this time, and he was just going to face the music. Tell her how stupid he was and that it was all his fault. Suffice it to say she was perfectly aware of that fact already. But perhaps she'd be so stunned by an actual real live admission of guilt from her errant partner that she'd forget to throttle him.
Mulder knocked softly on the connecting door to Scully's room, screwing up his face in growing apprehension. She'd given him the cold shoulder on the drive home, but he was afraid the silent treatment was about to end.
There was no answer.
Heart in his throat, unable to put off the inevitable any longer, Mulder impulsively pushed the door open and strode into the room. "Scully, I...Ay-yi-yi!" His voice ended on a decidedly high note. Momentarily stunned into stillness, mouth open, hand frozen in mid-gesture, Mulder was mortified to realize he had blundered in on Scully in her underwear.
Now normally, he wouldn't have felt so panic-stricken as he was right now. But in addition to the fact that he was already in serious hot water with his partner, he had quickly registered the fact that she wasn't sporting her regular old demure white unmentionables, like the ones he'd been fortunate enough to behold her attired in during their first case together in Oregon. Hell no. She was wearing tiny...black...SHEER...
Was he sweating? He could definitely feel beads of moisture popping out on his forehead.
Of course, Mulder's open-mouthed reverie only lasted all of about one and a half seconds before Scully cried, "Dammit, Mulder, didn't your mother ever teach you to knock?!" This served to snap him to his senses, whereby he whirled around on his heel and squawked desperately, "I did!" It sounded lame even to his own ears. He was doomed. A condemned man.
"Jeez, Mulder, what the hell is the matter with you? Get out of here!"
"Sorry...Scully...I'll just...head back, uh, in..." his voice trailed off ineffectually as he scurried back out the way that he had come, closing the door rapidly behind him and clenching his teeth. He fell back against the wood and slowly and rhythmically thudded his head softly against the connecting door. "Idiot. Idiot. Idiot..." he chanted, grimacing.
Scully's silent treatment of Mulder unsurprisingly had continued on their journey back to D.C. Returning to their basement office, Scully had slammed the files on his desk, daring him to say a word and again refusing to meet his gaze. He had meekly put on his glasses, sharpened a pencil, and set to work, squinting covertly up at her from time to time as he labored to see if she showed any signs of relenting. Yeah, right. And monkeys may fly out of my butt at any moment now, Mulder thought glumly.
It was now five o'clock in the afternoon, and there was no end in sight to the pencil pushing ahead. Ruined suits and explosions made for excessive report writing to one's superiors. Mulder's stomach gurgled once more. He rummaged through his desk drawers for the fourth time in twenty minutes, hoping against hope to find a stray sunflower seed. Nada. The snack machine on the first floor was busted. He'd tried there in vain at 4:30. No Moonpies in his future. He contented himself with chewing on his pencil eraser.
Pretending to work on his reports, in case Scully was watching him, Mulder's eyes surreptitiously roved about the office, searching for something snackworthy, until he sighted Scully's purse, sitting in an open file cabinet drawer. His eyes lit up. In his experience, women carried everything but the kitchen sink in their purses. She had to have something to eat in there. He'd even welcome a roll of Certs at this point.
He couldn't bear her silence any longer. He decided to test the waters. "Hey, Scully," he began as nonchalantly as possible, "you know, I am...absolutely famished." She didn't stir from her work. "You wouldn't happen to have anything to eat, would ya'? I think my blood sugar is low. I'm actually beginning to feel a bit lightheaded..." he rambled, attempting to appeal to the doctor in her, hoping against hope to begin melting her icy exterior. He then gave Scully his most pathetic puppydog face, raising his eyebrows, bottom lip pouting, but she continued to flip through the pages of a file she'd been examining, brushing away an errant strand of red hair like Mulder imagined she wanted to brush him away. His heart sank.
God, how long could she keep this up? He wished she would just yell at him, call him terrible names, get it over with. This was torture.
And Mulder had thought that he and Scully had gotten past the differences that had plagued them earlier in the year. The ones that had kept them sniping at each other continually, especially where Diana Fowley was concerned. But they were over that, right?
Things had gone especially well after Mulder had invited Scully to the ballpark for a little batting practice one night. He had wanted to share something he loved with her, and he felt closer to her on that singular occasion than he had in a very long time. It was nice. Really nice.
Mulder was remembering how it had felt to hold her in his arms as together they gripped the wooden bat, his large fingers entangling with her delicate ones as they good-naturedly jockeyed for position. He gave an inward groan at the thought of the way Scully's round bottom had fit so perfectly against the front of his jeans. It had nearly been his undoing. The feeling between them had been...electric. Had she felt it as well?
He recalled her soft, shiny hair rubbing against his cheek as he murmured quiet instructions in her ear. And it was a rare treat indeed to hear his partner's heartfelt, carefree laughter. The simple fact that they were able to freely touch and be touched, with no worries about cancer, aliens, or conspiracies to overshadow the moment, was an overwhelming, heady sensation. Mulder and Scully had worked perfectly in tandem as they swung at the baseball and made it soar into the starry night sky again and again. The whole evening had seemed somehow magical.
Mulder shook himself back into the present. He couldn't bear Scully's scorn any longer. Reminiscing about their special evening together in addition to contemplating their current glacial situation made his chest ache. He decided to press his luck and force her hand.
Mulder casually rose from his chair and sauntered nearer Scully and the file drawer containing her bag. He recalled she sometimes carried treats for her brothers' kids inside.
He sidled closer to his target and tried to good-naturedly wheedle the goods out of her. "Come on, Scully, you know I can't work when I'm hungry. I'm sure you have some goodies in here..." and with that he scooped up her purse and clasped it his chest, looking at her pleadingly. Maybe he could charm her into forgiving him. Scully looked up at him sharply, removing her glasses and staring at him.
"No, Mulder, I don't have any 'goodies' in there, especially not for you..."
Ouch.
Mulder interrupted with a shit-eating grin, "Oh, sure you do. I'll bet you've got a KitKat stashed in here or some TicTacs or something..." as he began digging through the contents in earnest.
Scully protested, "Hey, knock that off, Mulder! Don't you dare rummage around in there!"
Mulder paused and looked up innocently, "What's the matter?" That had gotten a rise out of her.
She moved in somewhat threateningly towards him, "You don't go rummaging around in a woman's purse!"
"How come?"
"Because that's... private. My stuff is in there..." she finished somewhat vaguely.
Mulder peered at her with undisguised interest, "Private stuff, eh? Aw, come on, Scully. You don't have any secrets from me now, do you? What could you be hiding in here..." and he began foraging within once more.
Scully demanded, "Mulder, hand it over!" and lunged toward him. Quickly she snatched the purse from his awkward grasp and held it behind her, just out of his reach. "God, Mulder, sometimes you are just so 'junior high'."
"What the heck is that supposed to mean?"
"Never mind." To get him out of her hair and back to work, she opened her purse and began digging through to the bottom where she generally kept candy for her nephews. Not the good stuff like chocolate, but junk candy that only kids could appreciate. She triumphantly pulled out a cherry-flavored Tootsie Pop with a flourish and held it toward Mulder, the biggest kid she knew. "Are you happy now?"
Mulder grinned at her. If he wasn't forgiven, at least she was speaking to him.
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Part 2: Peeling Away the Wrapper
Mulder clasped his hands together and declared, "Scully, I'll be your slave for life."
"Well, personally I'd settle for you doing your equal share of the paperwork around here, Agent Mulder," Scully grumbled as she replaced her bag and carefully closed the drawer this time, thinking how creepy it would've been for Mulder to have turned up a feminine hygiene product or some such item in his meddlesome explorations. Some things partners just didn't need to share. She turned to put some papers in a file cabinet, but Mulder caught a ghost of a smile before she managed to hide it from him.
He sighed in silent relief. Things were looking up. Mulder enthusiastically tore the wrapper from his Tootsie Pop, popped it in his mouth, wadded the paper in a ball, and shot it at the wastepaper basket. "And the crowd goes wild!" Mulder made appropriate large crowd noises. Scully peeped at him over her shoulder, nearly imperceptibly raised a delicate brow, and then continued her filing without a word.
Mulder sidled over to try and press his advantage, get her full forgiveness while the gettin' was good. Facing her while she sorted through the contents of the drawer, he had one arm carelessly draped over the drawer, the other holding the Tootsie Pop as he noisily sucked away. "I really meant it, Scully," he announced.
"Meant what, Mulder?" she looked up and her eyes were momentarily drawn to his full, wet lips as he twirled the lollipop between them. She shook her head slightly and quickly looked back down at her work.
He repeated, "Want a slave for life, Scully?"
"No, thanks, Mulder," she said as she gave him a small smile.
"What do you mean? Doesn't the prospect of having a real live person at your beck and call, to serve your every whim and desire, even remotely turn you on?"
Her eyes briefly darted up to meet his and he raised his eyebrows at her in question, removing his glasses and placing them on top of the cabinet behind him.
She seemed to consider his question thoughtfully for a moment, choosing to ignore the suggestive aspect. "Well...I suppose at first it would be pretty luxurious, but after the novelty wore off, I can imagine it becoming...tedious. Intrusive." Mulder noticed she looked at him rather pointedly. He was distracted by the blueness of her eyes for a moment. That happened sometimes.
He busied himself with loosening his tie and unbuttoning his collar button. "Me, Scully? Tedious? Na-aaah...surely you jest! How could you ever consider me intrusive?" He blinked at her.
Panty raids aside, of course.
He noticed that Scully began turning a decided shade of pink, beginning at her chest and moving upward to her face. Her eyes remained resolutely downcast.
Mulder sighed and began examining his cherry Tootsie Pop intently, imagining her thoughts. "I'm sorry, Scully. About barging in on you the other day and all that. But hey. Look at it this way. At least you were wearing something. I've seen you totally naked. Twice now. So what's the big deal, right?" He eyed her hesitantly.
Scully's coloring rapidly changed from pink to deep crimson, and Mulder somehow knew that his attempt at levity had failed.
He stammered, "Of course, not that I don't think you're a big deal naked and all. That's definitely not the case. No way!" Scully stared stonily at him.
That didn't sound quite right. He attempted to explain, "Not that I really looked at your body closely or anything, I promise! That would be taking advantage of you..." He trailed off at her look of utter consternation. He was damned if he did and damned if he didn't.
He settled for the straightforward, honest approach, and hoped Scully would respect him for it.
"Aw, Scully! Hell, yes, I know what you look like naked! You're perfectly aware of the ramifications of having an eidetic memory! And I put it to damn good use where your nakedness is concerned!" he stabbed the air with his lollipop for emphasis, then examined Scully's face for signs that she was about to light into him. He did not expect what came next.
Scully released a stream of air from her lips that sounded like a deflating balloon followed by peals of laughter. She wiped tears from her eyes as Mulder pronounced, "You have a damn fine body, woman! How am I not supposed to notice it?? Sheesh, I'm not made of stone, Scully..."
He smiled as her giggling at his expense died down, and, emboldened by her uncharacteristic reaction, came up behind her as he had the night they'd played baseball. He wrapped his arms tightly around her shoulders, and before his courage deserted him, hugged her to him, while miraculously managing to maneuver his candy without getting it caught in Scully's hair.
She inhaled sharply as she felt his lips murmuring near her ear, "I care for you, Scully. I meant it that time when I said you were my one in five billion." She could smell the cherry Tootsie Pop on his breath. Her stomach fluttered the way it had the first time she'd heard him make that particular declaration.
He'd been heartbreakingly strapped to a hospital bed, mistaken for being paranoid delusional. Mulder only had his Scully to rely on. Nobody else had taken his ranting even the slightest bit seriously. And Scully's belief in him had saved him in the end. That was how it always was with them.
Mulder gave her a gentle squeeze and, retaining his hold on her, popped his neglected lollipop back in his mouth for a thorough wetting. He had a thought, "Hey, Scully, wanna' share my Tootsie Pop? It's only right, you know, since I ruined your Nonfat Tofutti Rice Dreamsicle that time..."
Mulder's warm breath stirring her hair and his strong arms wrapped affectionately around her also brought back fond memories of his "very special, very early or very late birthday present" to her. She recalled being nearly overwhelmed by his masculine scent and the feel of his apparent arousal pressed firmly against her backside. It made her slightly dizzy to think about it even now.
She had felt so safe and protected there in his arms that night. No one could reach her, snatch her away from her family, from her friends...from Mulder. She was securely sheltered from virus-carrying bees, cancer, and mutant maniacal killers. She had felt that there was nothing they couldn't do as long as they were together.
Scully surprised him when she twisted her head to look back at him and accept the proffered candy in a low voice, "Sure, Mulder, hand it over."
Mulder's eyes were wide as he pulled the Tootsie Pop from his mouth with an audible pop and brought it to her face. Scully closed her eyes and opened her mouth. Mulder had to stifle a groan as he placed the cherry red pop inside and she pursed her full, ruby-stained lips around the stick. He realized he should probably let go of the stick at this point but found it difficult to do so. Scully solved the problem when her fingers brushed his as she took it from him. He watched her in profile as she twirled his Tootsie Pop in her mouth, and he found himself envying the damn thing.
With increasingly heavy-lidded eyes, Mulder asked her in a husky voice, "Hey, Scully, how many licks does it take to get to the center of your Tootsie Pop?"
Scully choked back a laugh. She gave him one better, "Mulder, did you ever happen to think that I'm not really a Tootsie Pop kinda' girl? I may have a creamy caramel center..."
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Part 3: One...Two...Three...<Crunch!>
It was Mulder's turn to choke. "Gracious, Scully!"
But she was not finished teasing him yet. He had thrown innuendoes her way for years, and Scully was going to see if he could take it as well as he could dish it out.
She gave the lollipop a long, lingering lick, looked up at him and cooed, very un-Scullylike, "...or maybe I'm just a great big old chocolate-covered cherry."
She smiled coyly at his momentary speechlessness. She’d had him pegged. He was definitely all talk and no do. Shoulda' known.
She also should have known that Mulder would never be struck dumb for long.
"Oh yeah? Scully? Well let's check for what kind of center you have...RIGHT NOW!" With that he attacked her ribs and stomach, tickling her with a vengeance. Scully shrieked and doubled over.
Her secret was out. Mulder now knew her true Achilles heel. Scully was exquisitely sensitive to tickling. She'd always despised this about herself. It seemed like such a girly thing.
She giggled uncontrollably until she extricated herself from grasping, groping, wiggling fingers, running around to the other side of Mulder's desk. God, she'd always hated being tickled but it felt amazing to have Mulder's hands on her like that. She was torn. Make a run for it or let him catch me? She was astonished at her own thoughts. This was insane!
There was no time to think about it as Mulder shoved the desk out from between them with a great heave. Scully uncharacteristically was momentarily distracted, watching his sinuous muscles flex through his white dress shirt. Just long enough for him to gain the advantage, grab her around her neatly skirted legs, and throw her over his shoulder like he was carrying a sack of potatoes. She let out a yelp of surprise. Luckily, Scully had taken off her shoes while working at her desk hours ago, or else Mulder might have gotten a high heel in the eye for his efforts.
Scully struggled and hissed at him, "For heaven's sake, Mulder, put me down! What if someone should walk in here? They'll cart us off to the looney bin, or at the very least we'll be fired!"
Mulder strode to the door with his diminutive partner squirming over his shoulder, and quickly flipped the lock on the door. "Satisfied now? I'll teach you to toy with Fox Mulder: Secret Agent Man! Give up, wench?"
"Shhh! Mulder, keep your voice down! What if someone hears you?"
"Scully, you know no one ever comes down here but the FBI's most unwanted. That's us! Plus, it's after 5:00. Come on G-woman, let your hair down, have a little fun. Hey, are these hose made of silk?"
"Mulder, quit rubbing my leg like that!" She improvised plaintively from her ungraceful position, "Say, wasn't that the phone I heard ringing just then?"
He strode purposefully across the room, grunting slightly as he hitched his protesting burden to a more comfortable position and picked up the phone to listen. Shrugging as best he could considering the hundred pound weight lodged on top of him, he proclaimed, "Nobody's at home!" making a great show of turning the ringer off as she twisted awkwardly to see what he was doing. She gasped at his utter impudence.
"Mulder, you're going to end up with this lollipop down the back of your pants if you don't have me on solid ground in about two seconds! PUT...ME...DOWN!" She smacked him on the butt from her perch as hard as she could muster for emphasis.
"Ouch! Ok! Ok! Don't get your panties in a bunch!" he groused, gently placing her seated on the edge of a table lodged in the corner. She sat amid book stacks, piles of papers, and office supplies. He leaned one hand on the table next to her and puffed out a breath. "There. Happy now?"
Scully's eyes gleamed at him playfully, a smile threatening to break out at any moment. Mulder recognized the challenge in her look, twirled a fake mustache wickedly, held his hands up like claws and began advancing on her position. "No Mulder! No more tickling! Yikes!"
She began hastily retreating in the only direction she had available. She hitched her feet up on the large, cluttered tabletop, knocking aside abnormal psychology books and UFO photographs, sending paper clips scattering to the floor. She began scooting backwards, clearing a trail through the jumble, until her back hit the wall. "God, Mulder, we are acting like a couple of kids here! This has got to...stop!"
Mulder was immensely enjoying the sound of her laughter, so there was no way in hell he was going to cease his mischief. He clumsily climbed onto the table in ruthless pursuit, dispersing various files, staplers, and number two pencils as he crept.
Scully knew Mulder was in his element, acting like a big kid, and she hated to put an end to their game. She didn't mind the thought of him getting his big hands on her just one more time before they called it quits and went back to being sensible FBI agents either. What was she thinking?? This was her partner she was having inappropriate thoughts about here!
She yelped as he made contact with her ribs once more, writhing as she hooted helplessly and tried half-heartedly to escape, until she finally drew her feet up, knees towards her chin, in an effort to make herself as small a target as possible. She really hadn't felt like this since she was a kid. It was kind of nice, romping with abandon.
"Alright, I give! Uncle!!" she called, laughing and gasping for air. Mulder was laughing just as hard and grinning from ear to ear. They sat companionably for a few moments, trying to catch their breath, smiling at each other with entirely too rarely-used face muscles.
Scully then became acutely aware of the warmth of Mulder's hands resting on her bent knees. Her gaze drifted down, and she drew in her breath sharply when she realized that in the process of wrestling with Mulder, her skirt had hitched up to a very unladylike position high on her thighs. She reached quickly towards her skirt to tug it back over her legs, but Mulder's powerful hands clamped down on hers and trapped them in her lap.
She gasped in surprise and lifted her head to come face to face with him. All mirth had fled from his expression and his eyes looked briefly confused, conflicted, and shocked at his own actions. Then she read a question in his features. One that begged acceptance. He was still breathing raggedly, but Scully didn't think it was from the exertion any longer.
When he felt her hands cease their struggling, he let go and placed his own once more on her upraised knees, stroking lightly. He watched her breath hitch in her chest. His eyes were burning with singular intensity now as he let his fingers trail up and down her silk-covered calves.
Scully felt her own body was betraying her even now as she trembled slightly. Ok, Mulder, she thought. Fun and games are over. Time to go back to the real world and cease this foolishness.
She watched, seemingly paralyzed, as Mulder picked up first one of her feet, then the other, and massaged each until she released an involuntary sigh. What is the matter with me? What the hell are we doing here? We can't be doing this. We aren't going to do this...
Oh...
Mulder's fingers traveled at a glacial pace back up her legs to her tops of her thighs, where they lingered, roaming tantalizingly. Scully forgot to breathe for a moment.
He caught her gaze and held it hotly, murmuring, "I forgot to mention how much I highly admired your attire when I barged into your room the other day."
Scully couldn't bring herself to utter a syllable. She could only concentrate on the sound of his voice and the weight of his hands on her thighs, overpowering her senses.
He continued, "You wouldn't happen to be wearing those particular little black unmentionables right now, would you?" He bit his lower lip, then gave her an almost shy smile, looking down at his hands on her body.
At first he thought she wasn't going to answer him again, but he leaned closer to her mouth to hear her whisper, "Red."
"What, Scully?"
She whispered again, "Not black today. Red."
Mulder inched her skirt higher until he exposed the tops of her thigh-high silk stockings, tracing featherlight caresses where lace gave way to bare skin. It was Scully's turn to breathe raggedly.
"God, Scully, you look good enough to eat," he muttered as he admired her pale skin contrasted against the dark material of her rumpled skirt.
Her eyes flew wide in shock at his suggestive remark, but her mouth opened slightly, soft and slack. Mutinously, her body began to throb and ache in a southerly direction.
He forced her gaze to lock with his with a hand tilting up her chin. Mulder said dreamily, "Hips before hands."
Her mind reeled at the implications. What to do?? She couldn't think straight with Mulder's body in such achingly close proximity, with him touching her this way. Her thighs were already slightly trembling.
"Hips before hands," she murmured back, looking him squarely in the eye, her breathing now becoming shallow.
Mulder stroked Scully's cheek softly, then his hands returned to her skirt, pushing it up to her waist, giving him an enticing view of her sinfully sheer undergarment. She didn't know what she was doing any longer. Everything was a red-hot pulsating blur.
Her hips seemed to lift of their own volition as Mulder's hands skimmed her sheer crimson-red panties off her bottom, slipping them slowly over her thighs, down her calves, and past her feet. She watched him rub the gossamer material against his cheek. Her pulse quickened when he inhaled deeply of its scent.
She made an impatient noise, and the panties fell forgotten to the floor.
His eyes traveled down to the soft curls in her lap as he smiled, "Very impressive, Red." Her soft chuckle was abruptly stifled when his fingers lightly threaded through the tangle, wandering over her soft skin.
Mulder then spied the red lollipop, abandoned on the tabletop during their earlier, more innocent games. Scully watched hungrily as he retrieved it with a playful look and swirled it in his mouth until it was once again shiny and wet, taking it out to teasingly rub it against her own lush mouth. He watched as her tongue came out to lick the stickiness from her lips.
Mulder was driving her crazy with his teasing. He could see the desperation in her eyes.
"Do you want something, Scully?" he asked.
She simply nodded her head weakly.
"You have to tell me, Scully. I have to know for sure that this is what you want." Mulder was sweetly asking permission to have his way with her.
Her face was flushed and wanton, but her tongue was mute. Jesus, she couldn't believe this
was happening. Was it too late to stop?
Scully saw him put the candy in his mouth to hold so that he would have both hands free, which he placed on her silk-stockinged knees. She felt her body practically thrumming, and then she realized the gentle, tuneless humming noise she heard was coming from her own throat. Was that a yes?
Mulder gently spread her legs, staring downward intently. Scully's skin felt on fire everywhere that Mulder's heated gaze touched. She heard herself whimper with sheer need.
He withdrew the candy from the warmth of his wet mouth, and she was jolted as he tentatively stroked it on her labia. Her eyes grew wide at the strange, slippery sensation. When she didn't protest, he began swirling and sliding it between her inner lips, where she was already wet with anticipation. He was determined to cover the cherry pop in Scully's own juices. Then he leisurely returned it to his mouth, sucking contentedly as he watched her face.
She groaned in utter frustration, reached up and pulled it jealously from Mulder's lips, then laid it aside. She wanted nothing in Mulder's mouth except...
Mulder leaned between her thighs, and she felt his cool breath blow across the super-sensitive flesh there. She shivered with desire as her skin broke out in gooseflesh.
He asked insistently, "Is this what you want? Do you really want this?" Mulder's hazel eyes met her blue ones with a heartbreakingly simple question: Could you ever truly want...me?
"Please..."
He leaned closer and took her face between his hands. "Scully, baby, just say it for me."
"Yes, I want you, Mulder," she breathed. "I want you so bad it hurts."
He grinned when she added urgently, "I need your mouth on me...now."
Without further ado, his head dipped low and she sucked in a breath as his soft lips began kissing her inner thighs.
He kissed, nipped, and licked his way tantalizingly closer to her center, until she gasped when she finally felt his lips kiss sweetly in her most intimate of places. He began to lick her rhythmically for what seemed an eternity until she could no longer keep still. Her hips squirmed but Mulder held on to her thighs as he suckled and laved her into ecstasy. His thumb stroked her clit until she was making incoherent sounds and her head thrashed. Suddenly she felt herself melting and floating away as she was overcome by sensation. Her entire body tingled, then felt numb. Scully sighed peacefully and threaded her fingers through Mulder's hair.
She heard a muffled, "I'm not finished with you just yet. Fasten your seatbelt." He grinned up at her briefly, lifting his eyebrows as if asking permission once more: Are you actually enjoying this? Do you really want me?
When she collapsed bonelessly back onto the table, he took that as a yes, then disappeared once again.
Mulder began alternately flicking and circling her swollen clit with his tongue. Scully's cries began again in earnest, and he took her sensitive nub gently between his teeth, kneading it, then sucking.
Between her nonsense murmurings, the sound of his voice floated up through her consciousness. "Come for me, Scully," he breathed against her damp flesh.
When her thigh muscles began contracting, Mulder plunged his tongue inside her again and again, massaging her clit with his fingers until the rhythmic contractions overcame her. He kept stroking as wave after wave rolled over Scully as she arched her back and cried out his name.
When she at last lay trembling and spent, Mulder wrapped his arms more tightly around her thighs and placed butterfly kisses on her swollen, slick, heated flesh. He gently closed her legs and crawled up to lay close beside her on the cramped table, knocking off still more office paraphernalia as he went. He rested his head on his elbow as he gazed down at this wonderfully wanton, sex-crazed creature he had created. He waved his hand in front of her eyes playfully, and she gathered the energy to turn her face to look at him, although a bit out of focus.
"Happy now?" he grinned at her and she covered her face with her hands and laughed self-consciously. Mulder could get very used to this. Yep. This could become a habit.
"Come on, G-woman, was your aforementioned creamy caramel center molten?"
"Mull-deeerrrr!" she groaned melodramatically.
"So what score does the East German judge give me for my performance?" he chortled and stroked Scully's hair out of her eyes.
"Well..." she considered, rolling onto her side as well so that she was facing Mulder. "I'd say for technique..."
"Yeah," he encouraged.
"Finesse...and most especially," she continued, "stamina..." and raised her eyebrows at him meaningfully. "...the East German judge would have to give you solid ten's across the fucking board."
"Agent Scully! I am shocked by your use of language. Have I debauched you so much already? I feel somehow responsible." To Scully, he looked just plain smug.
"Mulder, I always knew you sucked on those sunflower seeds constantly for a reason. I didn't realize you were training your tongue for the Olympics."
"Only for the Olympics held between your legs, baby" and his hand snaked downward. Scully exploded in laughter until she sucked in her breath when his fingers made contact.
"Mulder, no more! God, we're at the office for goodness sakes. It's probably bugged. We may be on Candid Camera right now." Her eyes began to search the room nervously. She self-consciously reached down to pull her skirt over her nakedness, but Mulder's hands stopped her short.
"No way, Scully. Frohike was just up here sweeping the place for surveillance equipment early this morning. This place is clean. You know I wouldn't put you on display like that. Besides," and his gaze traveled down her body, causing her face to flush with embarrassment, "au naturel is a good look for you. I think I'm going to speak to Skinner about making it a dress code requirement."
She rolled her eyes.
"Besides," he added lecherously, "it'll come in mighty handy next time I feel the urge to...snack." He waggled his eyebrows.
"Good grief, Mulder, you're so depraved."
To distract his attempts at further explorations on her overly sensitized nether regions, Scully dragged her hand suggestively over the front of his pants. He gave a surprised little yip.
"Gee, Mulder, is that a banana in your pocket or are you just glad to see me?" She waggled her eyebrows back at him.
"Well that depends," his voiced cracked, "on what activity you'd prefer to engage in next..."
"Oh no. No more. This is crazy! I will never forgive you if we get caught. How humiliating..."
Mulder cooed, "We're not gonna' get caught... Trust me!"
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
Part 4: The Short End of the Stick
Both Mulder and Scully sat bolt upright and wide-eyed at a sudden pounding at their office door.
"Shit!" Mulder hissed as he scrambled to help Scully rise, pull down her skirt, and straighten her blouse.
"Just a minute!" they cried simultaneously, inspecting one another, each running fumbling fingers through the other's hair to try and restore it to some semblance of order.
They practically tripped over one another rushing toward the locked door, when Scully looked down in horror to notice the huge erection Mulder was sporting like a red flag. She hissed a signal at him, gesturing at the front of his pants as she bit her lower lip. Mulder rolled his eyes and threw up his hands as Skinner's voice called out, "Everything ok in there?"
Mulder sighed in resignation, unlocked the door, quickly moved back a few steps, wrapping an arm around Scully's waist and jerking her unceremoniously to stand in position in front of his errant member. She let out a slight "oof" of surprise, then self-consciously tucked her hair behind her ear and tried to calm herself. She prayed that she did not look like a woman who'd just experienced a teeth-rattling orgasm.
"Come in!" Mulder called, his voice breaking a bit on the last word. Skinner opened the door carefully and suspiciously, only to encounter his two agents standing at attention, smiles plastered on both their faces. What the hell??
Scully quickly explained, "Sorry, sir...we were examining some, uh, sensitive... evidence..."
"Yeah." Mulder inserted. "Sensitive, sir..."
Scully elbowed him, cleared her throat and continued, "...from a case we've been pursuing, and we, uh, couldn't have just anybody walking in on us...uh, it...The evidence. Sir." She smiled weakly at Skinner and felt like slapping herself in the forehead for sounding like such a complete and utter imbecile. Mulder attempted to look casual and leaned an elbow on a nearby file cabinet, carefully lest he lose Scully as a visual obstruction to his obvious physical predicament.
"Agents," A.D. Skinner addressed the partners, squinting down at both of them from his impressive yet intimidating height, "I've been trying to contact you for the past..." he looked down at his watch, "45 minutes..." Their boss rambled on.
Mulder glanced down, once again in horror, as he noticed a particularly filmy scrap of scarlet red material lying abandoned on the floor a couple of inches from where he now stood. Shit, shit, shit! He removed his elbow from the filing cabinet, subtly shifted his weight, bringing Scully along with him by covertly hooking a finger in the back of her skirt waistband and tugging as he went. She feigned intent interest in what Skinner continued to say. Mulder placed his thankfully large foot on the offending undergarment, completely concealing it.
With relief, Mulder returned his attention to Skinner's lecture.
"...is of the utmost importance that you two attend this meeting."
Mulder and Scully dutifully nodded their agreement.
The A.D. concluded solemnly, "I'm counting on you."
"Yes, sir," the agents chorused, as they gave tight-lipped smiles and small waves and tried not to look guilty as hell as their boss exited.
In the hall, Skinner rolled his eyes and muttered quietly to himself, "Who the fuck do they think they're kidding?"
He'd immediately noticed their office looked like it had been hit by a tornado and it fairly reeked of sex. Hell, he was in the FBI for Christ's sake. He was paid to be observant. The peekaboo panties on the floor alone were enough to nail their asses to the wall, if he had chosen to do so.
But Skinner had a soft spot for his two maverick agents, and all he could think was, "It's about goddamn time."
Mulder and Scully remained as still as statues as the door closed behind Walter Skinner, barely breathing as they listened to the sound of his footsteps echoing down the basement hallway. They remained motionless and silent a few moments longer until they were certain their boss was on the elevator and well out of earshot.
Scully whirled on Mulder and gave him a well-placed smack on the arm. "Ow!" he yelped.
"What the hell are you trying to do, Mulder?! Get us fired??" she exclaimed indignantly. He couldn't contain himself any longer and bent over double, snickering.
"I cannot believe you are finding amusement in what was damn near a catastrophe, Mr. Smarty Pants." Scully crossed her arms and glared at Mulder, who was now leaning chuckling against the file cabinet.
"And I cannot in my wildest imagination determine why I would let you persuade me, an intelligent, educated, well-brought up woman," she fussed, pacing a bit, "to participate in such unprofessional..." She stammered, trying to come up with words to fit their particular crime. "...conduct unbecoming an agent of the FBI, not to mention to engage in quite unpartnerly..."
Mulder collapsed in helpless mirth on the chair nearest him.
Scully, hands on hips, eyed him aghast. "Don't you even care? Aren't you even one bit concerned that we may be booted out..."
Mulder sobered up immediately, wiping his streaming eyes. He reached out and took Scully's small hand in his own much larger one, gently pulling her close to him. Before she could protest, he looked warmly into her eyes until she felt her stomach flutter. His began to speak to her in that sexy, low, husky voice that she always felt all the way down into those rebellious nether regions, much to her chagrin. She felt warm. She hoped she wasn't blushing. God, he could make her squirm.
"No, Scully. As long as I'm with you, I pretty much don't give a rat's ass whether the FBI kicks me out or not."
Scully was taken aback, and smiled in spite of herself. She could feel her indignation and panic melting away at Mulder's surprisingly sentimental words.
"Besides, I have better things to think about," Mulder sighed. He widened his eyes innocently, reached down to the floor, retrieving something. With a gossamer red scrap of cloth swinging on the end of one finger before her astonished eyes, in a seductive voice he intoned, "Mr. Smarty Pants here knows someone who isn't wearing any pants at all." He smiled smugly and she groaned in mortification, burying her face in her hands as was fast becoming a habit now. Mulder made her act like such a bad girl!
Mulder pulled his partner into his lap in a very unpartnerly fashion, brushing her hair back from her face and whispering in her ear until she removed her hands from her flushed face and looked at him, "Don't worry, Scully baby, I'll still respect you in the morning." He tucked her hair behind one ear and kissed it gently. She shivered with anticipation as he whispered lasciviously, "Want some candy, little girl?"
END Tootsie Pop I
