From: bugs1231@my-dejanews.com Date: Mon, 22 Mar 1999 09:16:47 GMT Subject: *NEW*Butterflies All Tied Up(01/07)-MSR(NC-17) TITLE: Butterflies All Tied Up-7 Chapters AUTHOR: bugs E-MAIL: bugs1231@my-dejanews.com DISTRIBUTION: Gossamer and any other archives, anywhere else that ask. RATING: NC-17; violence, language and of course, sex. CATEGORY: I have no idea, Voyeurism? KEYWORDS: MSR, RST, and a schizophrenic blend of angst and dark humor. Your mission, if you chose to accept it, is to figure out which is which. SPOILERS: Just slight references, no spoilers, however, I have created my own reality for their reassignment to the X-files, if you haven't seen season 6, do not take this as canon. SUMMARY: M/S are back to work at the X-files, but a madman in their midst finally sends their relationship in a new direction, and someone is watching. DISCLAIMER: HAH! AUTHORS NOTES: Mike Raaker is my creation and in no way is meant to disparage the fine profession of journalism. Thanks to Jen for the initial beta read and sending me in the right direction. And thanks to Teresa for dedicating herself to her beta craft, wiping the sweat from her noromos brow, pulling her red pencil from behind her ear with a shaking hand and pointing out the need for some crucial changes. My undying gratitude to MustangSally for carefully prying open my tight grimy little fist, taking my shiny red ball away and bouncing it against my hard head until some sense was knocked into it. My head, not the ball. Oh, and thanks for the name, Mike Raaker. Butterflies All Tied Up By bugs (07/07) "I like to watch." Chauncey Gardiner in Being There by Jerzy Kosinski Chapter 1 Washington D.C. June 2, 1999 2:20 PM "What's a Scully?" Any minute now I expect to get an answer. Sirens are filling my head, beating that old familiar rhythm. Patrol cars arrive first and ambulances pull up but are keeping their distance. I can see SWAT teams moving around on the roof of the building in front of us, getting into position. I motion to my cameraman. "Get some pictures of that." He nods; he's started even before I told him. A car comes roaring up, screeching to a halt by our van. A tall dark haired man jumps out of the passenger side of the car and runs up towards the building. A lumbering ox of a bald man jumps out too and with surprising quickness for a man of his size manages to grab him before he gets any closer to the building than we are. He murmurs intently in the tall man's ear. The man ignores him. "SSSccccculllleeeeee!" Ah, this must be Fox Mulder. It had been just another day lounging around the newsroom of DC's crappy Fox affiliate. For a guy in my position this wasn't unusual. I don't go looking for the stories, they come to me. I've gotten a reputation in the DC area for my exciting, on the spot reporting. Some would say I'm a jackal feeding on the suffering of others but I can't please everyone. I've got plans to move to a national show, spotlighting my unique talents, but I need the right story to get that attention. So I wait. And wait. The phone rang. I took my time to pick it up. You want the source to be frothing at the mouth. It adds the right quality. When I picked it up though, the source was not frothing. He was silent. I started. "Raaker here. Hello? Hello?" "Mr. Raaker? This is a friend. I have a story for you." The calm ones frighten me, frankly. They always turn out to be the one with a bullet in the chamber. I break out in a sweat. He went on. "Call the FBI. Ask to be patched through to Special Agent Fox Mulder. Give him the address of the old ice plant down the street from your station, do you know where that is?" "Yeah." TV stations are notoriously in the worst sections of town. We have plenty of old abandoned factories rotting around us. That building happens to be isolated in a wide-open yard, probably just one door in and one door out. Nice choice. "Good. After you tell him where it is...tell him I have Scully." "A skull? Whose skull?" He was impatient, "No, you idiot! Tell him I have Scully." "Ok, than what's a Scully? Wait a minute..." "No. You wait. Trust me. This will be a very good story for you. I guarantee you. You'll have time enough after your call to get here and get into position before Mulder gets across town from the Hoover Building. If you want this story you will do as I tell you and not get any sort of morals and call the police." Morals? Me? Please. As I'm gasping on the thought he has hung up. What's a Scully? To find out I made the call. I motioned to my crew to load up the wagon and get ready to ride as I waited to be connected. "Hello, Fox Mulder." "Special Agent Mulder? This is Mike Raaker with Channel 5, Fox News." He started fussing like a baby down the line at me. I cut him off. "I've gotten a phone call from a man who gave me this address. It sounded important." Amazingly he didn't ask any more questions and just wrote the address down as I read it off to him. Usually Fed types take you apart before even getting past hello. "All he told me...his words were...I have Scully." For the second time today I was hung up on before I could get the next breath out. I jumped up from chair. "Let's go boys!" I smelled blood in the water. So here we all are. Now all we need is the caller and the Scully. Baldy is bearing down on me. Mulder is in the grasp of several other agents yanking him around, yelling at each other. I got the jump on Baldy. "We were here first, Bud. Can't throw us out." He clenches his jaw. "Yah, yah...you're the one who called Mulder?" "Yah." I'm wary. "Was it a man? What did he say?" I stop him. "All he did was give me this address and said he had Scully. What's going on here?" Baldy turns away. I'm of no use to him. He starts grunting into a walkie-talkie as he goes back up to Mulder. My cell phone rings. Mulder hears it and comes up to me. "Yah? Raaker here." "Good job Mr. Raaker. I knew I could count on you. All right. Tell Mulder I want him to take off his jacket and his guns. I want him to stand in view of the glass door in front of you and turn around slowly. Have him lift the cuffs of his pants. Then I'll bring out Scully." He hangs up. I pass the message on to Mulder. Baldy starts bawling at him like a stuck ox and Mulder ignores him as he sheds the Armani jacket and the guns from his hip and ankle. He starts walking up to the door and does his little dance. We all wait. The glass door creaks open and two figures slip out. People accuse me of having no heart. I have a heart. I just tend to keep it in a box at home. So when that horrible feeling sinks into the place where my heart should be, it can only ricochet off my ribs. This is painful. A Scully is a little girl. A little red-haired girl with freckles on her nose. And handcuffs so tight on her wrists that they are cut and bleeding. Her white blouse is flecked with blood and untucked. Her canary yellow skirt is dirty and smudged. Her hose are torn and she is barefoot. Her face is of a very old woman, set and still. She looks almost bored tempered with an underlying irritation, as though she is late for an appointment. The combination is unsettling. My eyes flick up to the SWAT teams. They wouldn't be able to get a clear shot. There is a large overhang and the man keeps he and Scully under it. He has oily hair arranged over a bald spot and large plastic rimmed glasses. He must have been a small man because this was all I can see behind the little girl. "Dole. Todd Dole. Hey, you know, when a woman says she doesn't want to go out with you, this isn't the way to impress her," Mulder snarls. Baldy growls. Mulder is raking his eyes up and down Scully taking in the damage. "Scully, has this guy hurt you?" She speaks clearly. "I'm fine." Mulder explodes with such anger we all jump, including Dole. All of us but Scully. "I didn't ask if you were FUCKIN' fine!" He hisses the rest through clenched teeth. "Has he hurt you...touched you?" "No," is all she says. Dole smirks. "No Mulder. I was waiting for you. As you well know, some things just need an audience, don't you think?" Mulder tries to bring the tension down. "Hey, Dole, let's all calm down here...there's obvious been a misunderstanding, your feelings have been hurt..." Dole ignores him and turns to the camera. "Don't listen him. You wanna hear about an unbearable work situation? They say nothing's going on, but she won't go out with me! 'I'm not interested!' All day long, trapped in that crappy little office...this damn heat...all day long, on assignment...they're all over each other...touching each other, staring at each other...it's like watching a ping pong match...and you know how the sound of that ball banging back and forth drives you crazy?" He is dripping spit on Scully's shoulder. She and Mulder hold each other in a tight gaze, seeming to ignore Dole. "She looks at him, she looks away, he looks at her, back and forth, back and forth...how's a guy supposed to get any work done!" Mulder cuts him off. "You've got this all wrong. It's all in your fevered little dirty mind!" Dole gives his long thin toady smile again. "I wanna play the watching game now, Mulder. Only now I get to play your position." Both Mulder and Scully tense. I mutter into my cell-phone at my producer. "Switch to three second delay, George, I don't like the feeling on this..." "Well Scully and me don't wanna play Dole, take your toys and go home." Mulder is cold. "No, if I had to play, you have to play, that's the first rule." With that he nestles the gun against Scully's chin and drops his hand down the front of her body, pulling her tight against him. His arm seems unnaturally long. He doesn't have to bend over, yet his hand is at the hem of her sensible length skirt. Scully takes in a sharp breath. "Ok, your game, Watch Us Fuck...my version, ok? Stockings or Pantyhose, Mulder, which is it going to be?" "I don't know! I told you, Dole, you've got it wrong!" Mulder shouts at him. Scully tries to say something but the movement of her neck causes him to push the gun up against her chin again. She looks really pissed. I realize she had yet to look frightened. What is it going to take to scare her? "Mulder?" Dole asks. Mulder just shakes his head, staring at Scully like he is looking for the answer. Dole is enjoying himself. My stomach tightens. "Ah, Mulder, silk, silk, silk..." Rhapsody covers his sweaty face. "Ah, skin! Stockings, Mulder, you lucky shit!" Scully is trying to pull herself away without jostling Dole's hand. Mulder speaks clearly and slowly. "I'm going to cut off your dick Todd, and I'm going to shove it down your throat until you choke." Dole doesn't seem to hear him. "Double or nothing, Mulder. Underwear. Now the choices are, none at all, thong, silk high cuts, oh, help me here, Mulder..." His hand begins to creep higher. "White cotton! High cut! Jockey for Her!" Mulder yells out. Scully gasps in relief. Dole smirks and we watch his hand slither towards her groin. He must find what he is looking for. "Very good, Mulder. Now see how easy it is to play my game?" He does pull his hand out. I whisper into the phone. "Are we still on the air, George?" He replies the affirmative. "Now, let's take the game inside, shall we? You like to watch so much Mulder, well, you're going to watch." "Think about it, Dole. You sure you're...up...to this?" Dole growls at him and Scully warns him. "Mulder." Mulder grins at her. "Come on Scully, I don't think you have anything to worry about." Dole starts to pull the gun away from Scully's chin. Mulder tenses himself. Scully speaks. "Mulder, stop it! Don't do this!" "What?" "Stop trying to make this man kill you!" It is as though all the rest of us, including Dole, have gone home for them. She looks mad as hell. "Dammit Mulder! Shut up! I can survive anything this man does to me, anything!" Dole cuts in on them. "Shut up the two of you! We're going to go back inside. Scully and I are going to back up and through the door. Mulder, you will pace us, walking at the same rate. Try anything and I kill her. If you try anything Scully, I'll kill him. See how simple this is?" The two agents must have decided to keep their argument about his suicidal tendencies for later. They stare at each other for a long minute and then they both blink, slowly. Dole begins to move. All three move in some sick dance. I had to watch the whole thing later on the tape to make some sense of it, something more than the whirl of color and screams and blood. On the small monitor I see Scully and Mulder, their eyes locked. I watch Mulder do a head fake, I watch Scully stumble, I watch Dole hesitate for a moment, not sure who to shoot at. He chooses Mulder, somehow missing. This gives Scully time to pivot and slam the gun out of Dole's hand. I see the fear on his face. She has this look on her face; this look like her mouth is watering. She swings her shackled hands at his head, catching him on the jaw. She cuts him and an arc of blood slaps across her face. Not content to stop there, she swings back to the right, getting him on the chin. Mulder has been scrambling for Dole's gun and all the agents are running around, waving their guns, and shouting at each other. The Bull is bellowing. "Don't shoot! Don't shoot!" Mulder comes up with the gun and stands, blocking the shot of the other agents. He stands over the two fighting agents, cackling. I can't believe it. Shouldn't he be protecting his woman? Meanwhile, she is bitch-slapping this guy on some sort of nasty high level, involving a fist made of her clasped hands and the sharp edge of the handcuffs. Dole's face is a bloody pulp and he is down on his knees, but refuses to drop. I thought he was trying to push himself up on his feet, but as I watched the replay I could see him pull the hem of his pant leg up and yank a 9mm pistol out of an ankle holster. He snaps the pistol up and shoots Scully with a quick snarled, "Cunt!" Scully is lifted by the impact of the shot and drops in a writhing pile at his feet. Dole pulls the hammer back again but by then Mulder is standing over him, pumping three shots into his chest. Dole settles awkwardly back down on the ground gurgles once and dies with his eyes still open. Scully rolls over awkwardly. "The keys, the keys are in his pocket," she gasps out. Mulder frantically goes through the pockets of the body as though it was a piece of trash. Other agents are hovering over Scully but backs away when he returns with the keys. He quickly unlocks the shackles, scoops her up and carries her a few feet away from Dole's body before falling down, clutching her to his chest, his eyes wildly looking around. I'm staring back at the pool of blood she had left behind. It's much too large. So is the puddle that was quickly forming under Mulder. They are just a few feet away from us and I pull the cameraman after me to get a close-up. Scully is whispering, "Damn, I think he hit the artery...Mulder, you've got to put some pressure on my shoulder." He rocks her away from his chest and looks at her through cloudy eyes. He nods though, and starts probing at her shoulder until he finds the bubbling fountain of her wound. He lays one hand on each side of her shoulder and presses. She screams weakly. He sobs and eases the pressure. "No, Mulder, keep it up, I need it that hard, it's ok..." she murmurs. He presses his huge hands back over the bright red current. She stares up at his face. "Mulder, are you crying?" He looks away, twisting his head, probably looking for the ambulance that I could see trying to fight its way through the nest of police vehicles. "Yah..." She manages to get her right arm out from against his body and reaches up to wipe the tears off his cheeks. She smears blood on his face and this causes her brow to crease in worry. "Don't cry..." she whispers. "...Promise me you'll never cry again...I'm so tired of crying..." He nods but protests, "You never cry." "I cry all the time..." she murmurs. "Promise..." "I promise...I'll never cry again," he answers. She seems to pass out, but her hand stays resting on his cheek. The EMTs suddenly appear from somewhere and gently untangle her from his arms and flip her up on a gurney. Mulder struggles to his feet as they roll her away and began working on her closer to the van. I'm pulling the cameraman with me to get some close-up of Scully, even though I'm pretty sure they were going to cut her blouse and bra off and we'll be taken off the air. But Hal pulls away from me and I turn to see what he's found. Mulder is staggering through the crime scene. The tape is up already and they have thrown a sheet over Dole and are marking the bullet casings. Mulder reaches down and pulls the sheet completely off of the body in one sweep. He reaches to his waistband where he has tucked Dole's gun and pulls it out. "Shit, gun!" someone yells. Mulder takes aim and first blows Dole's head to mush, then shoots him in the balls two times. I think I'm going to hurl. Bald Bull is grabbing him from behind and screaming in his ear, but he doesn't seem to hear him. Mulder shrugs out of his grip but turns and hands him the gun. Baldy looks down at the gun and then realizes his hands are now covered with blood from grabbing Mulder. He grimaces and tries to wipe it off on his slick FBI jacket. It doesn't work very well. Mulder looks down at himself to notice the blood for the first time. He looks repulsed. His clothing is soaked in her blood. He tears his dress shirt off and tosses it aside, but his tee shirt is just as badly stained. He yanks that off over his head and wipes his body dry before tossing the tee-shirt aside. His skin is still stained red, but at least it isn't running down his skin. I can't say I blame him. He wanders past the camera back to Scully's side at the gurney. They have packed the wound and given her oxygen, slapped some IV's in, but apparently have decided that a helicopter will be the fastest way to get her to the hospital. He stands by her uninjured right side and pulls her hand out from under the blanket. She rolls her head to try to focus on him. From over his shoulder I can see her face and her eyes are almost black from dilated pupils. What the hell have they given her? She pulls her hand out his grip, reaches up and pulls the oxygen mask away from her face. "You ok?" she mumbles. He gives a rusty chuckle. "Yah, you?" "I'm ok..." She flails her hand around and somehow it lands on his bare red-stained stomach. She draws her hand slowly down, rising and dipping over his abdominal muscles. Her hand comes to rest on his waistband and she tucks it in and pulls. He leans down over her face. She reaches up to stroke his cheek. "You promised not to cry," she grumbles. His face is still as wet as before. He lies to her. "I'm not crying." "You are..." She pulls his face down to hers. Panting with effort, she rests her mouth on his cheek. She licks it slowly. "You are..." Mulder stays that way for a moment, holding himself up with an elbow so that he doesn't put his weight on her. I wonder if she had lost consciousness. The tears are still wet on his face, dripping off the edge of his lips. She turns her face slightly to reach out and catch the teardrop with the end of her tongue, her mouth opening with a gasp for breath. Maybe that's all the encouragement Mulder needs because suddenly they are kissing. An EMT on the other side of the gurney says what we are all thinking. "Oh, my God!" Indeed. For a brief moment they are kissing passionately, their lips tugging at each other desperately. Scully stills, she has lost consciousness. Mulder gasps and pulls himself off of her. He gently places the oxygen mask over her mouth again. We all look up as we hear the approaching helicopter. Bald Bull pulls Mulder back and gives him a jacket to put on over his bare chest. Mulder tries to climb in after they have loaded Scully on the 'copter, but Baldy holds on to his arm. "I have to go with her." "Mulder, we'll go in the car, come on." He shoots a dirty look at me as he drags the disheveled agent away. All the cars began melting away, leaving my crew and I standing by our van. I look at my watch. Twenty minutes have passed since we arrived. I grab the microphone to finish my report and notice my hand is shaking. Now I know what a Scully is. End(01/07) send feedback to bugs1231@my-dejanews.com Butterflies All Tied Up by bugs-- (02/07) (NC-17) See part 1 for particulars Hal and I roared towards the hospital. I was able to watch the live feed from the other reporters who had beaten a path there first. Mulder and Skinner were trying to push their way through, but the reporters created a curtain. "Agent Mulder, did you intend to kill this Dole person?" One was calling to him. He turned and stared at the rat-like face of the young man. "Actually I was trying to gut shoot him, but I'm such a bad shot I missed and hit his heart." "Did you kill him because of what he did to the woman?" Someone in the back was yelling this question. I could hear the ligaments in Skinner's jaw creak even through the video feed. Mulder must have decided to finally keep his mouth shut and moved to the doors. Skinner swatted the press aside like flies and they made their way into the hospital. By the time I got there, Agent Scully had been taken into surgery. That was all we were told. I made myself comfortable in a shambled room set aside for us in the basement and began working the phone. I had get my researchers started gathering some information on these two. You don't think I do all that boring grunt work myself? Word came down that Scully was out of surgery and was going to be fine, and Mulder was spotted making his way down towards the exit. The other rats also had failed to tell me that Scully's mother was on the scene, being questioned in the doorway. I jumped up and hurried to join in. The flickering lights of the camera crews always remind me of circling dogs caught in a car's headlights. They had someone trapped in the center of the pack. It could be only one person. I moved in closer to see when Mulder came bursting through the doors. Maggie Scully was being relentlessly grilled by the shrill voices of the hounds. "How long?...Do you know?...to what extent?...Agent Mulder?...any others?...your daughter?" Mulder pushed his way in and grabbed her arm. She turned first with the look of fury that for some reason brought tears to his eyes. Then her gaze melted and those tears began falling unheeded again. This guy had to find a way to control himself. She was obviously rattled. "Fox, what's going on? Where's Dana? How is she?" He began tugging her towards the door and babbling. "She's all right. She's going to be all right. Everything is going to be all right." He glared at the cameras and bared his teeth. The hounds backed away from the presence of an alpha male and he was able to pull her back through the doors. Skinner slammed the doors shut behind the two of them as we all pressed against the glass, still crying out questions. Washington DC General Hospital, 5:35 PM We had been made to wait for three hours since the 'incident' and it had been an hour since the dramatic rescue of Mrs. Scully and departure of our hero. What was that about anyway? According to the information now flooding our phone lines every minute, dramatic hospital visits were not an uncommon occurrence for our star-crossed lovers. What 'I' had gathered so far: FBI agents. Partners for six years. Paired in a department that had no official designation but had many rumors surrounding it, rumors that were common in my line of journalism. Frankly I was surprised I hadn't met up with these two before. UFOs. Vampires. Ghosts. How had these two ended up the victims of a something as pedestrian as a disgruntled co-worker? I watched the replay of the events from the evening news on a small television as we waited. Over and over the small form crumbled to the ground, the gun fired into Dole but the worst part was the close-up of my sweaty green face stuttering out the details. I snapped my head up as the door into the small room assigned to us at the hospital opened. Baldy. Great. This was going to be fun. I nodded to Hal to start rolling and muttered to George on the cell phone to cut in with a live broadcast of the news conference. He went to the front of the room and cleared his throat. "I'm Assistant Director Walter Skinner with the FBI. Agents Mulder, Scully and Dole all work under me. Apparently, from what we've gathered, Agent Todd Dole, while working in the same department under Fox Mulder and Dana Scully, developed an obsession with Agent Scully and reacted violently to her rejection." This was so dry I was choking on it. I tuned him out until the questions. I starred in most of the narrative anyway. I switched the TV to radio reception and listened the reactions of the common folk calling in to the evening commute talk shows. The first question cut right to the point. "Were you aware of and condoning the relationship between Agents Mulder and Scully?" Skinner took a deep breath. "In the first place, there was nothing for me to be aware of. Agents Mulder and Scully have a very close working relationship, that's all. There was nothing for me to condone." The shouts started immediately. I decided to play. "You expect us to believe that those two are not having sex." There. I cut right to the chase, no beating around the bush. Skinner looked at me with beady triumphant eyes. "In the first place, there is no policy against relationships between agents. Second, no, they are not involved in a sexual relationship." Before any of us could contradict him, he went on. "Anticipating this line of questioning, I directly asked Agent Mulder this question. He denied it." I kept at him. "And you believed him? I mean, perhaps he's a gentleman." I grinned at him evilly. Skinner looked uncomfortable. "Agent Mulder knows that I will question Agent Scully as soon as possible. He would not put her in a position where it would be necessary for her to lie for him." He looked lost for a moment. "At least not over something this...trivial." I stopped listening after that. So Mulder lies to Skinner regularly, but Scully is a little Girl Scout, but she will lie when necessary for HER MAN...but there was no way they acted that way towards each other and weren't horizontal...I was going to need back up on this. June 3,1999 9:45 AM That's how I ended up the next day in a cramped and hot tin box of a van down the street from the hospital. We had been listening to the scratchy snatches of phone calls on cell phone scanners for hours now and I had lost the point of the whole thing. I was sick of listening to doctors set up afternoon trysts with x-ray technicians and racquetball games. A real pro, Neville Blatt, an experienced veteran of many 'hunting trips', had joined me on my quest. He had offered his valuable advice in exchange for shared exclusive for his English tabloids. If there was anything the English loved it was a good love story. And the ghost-hunting angle didn't hurt. Blatt answered my whine. "Just you hold onto yer knickers, little girl, there'll be something." We had learned through sources with greasy palms that Mulder had been denied access to the hospital and his calls were not being allowed through to Agent Scully's room. Blatt was confident, though. "I got faith in our pretty boy, I got faith. He'll get a phone to her, mark my words." So there we sat surrounded by equipment and soiled fast food wrappers. Not that there was anything else we could do anyway. Robertson at the Post had been able to ace me on some anonymous quotes from the hospital staff and fibbies, but of course no one would go on camera with an interview. Damn print media, weren't they supposed to be dead? If I wanted to get back on top of this story, I would have to pray that Agent Mulder would pull some sort of Romeo stunt here. I whined again. "Shouldn't we be staking out the room too? I mean, I would think he could find a way in there." Blatt shook his head. "I don't think he'll risk it." Another six hours went by. Where does the time go when you're having fun? I watched TV and got some more info about our dynamic duo. Old footage showed many crime scenes and many refusals to comment. They looked good in trench coats, but that was about all I gleaned from those reports. All those shows I itched to be working for, the afternoon news 'magazines' had patched together pieces, made up of my footage, cha-ching, thank you very much, and boring shots of the Hoover Building, grimacing Skinner and furious Mrs. Scully. We needed something new and fresh before we lost our edge in this race. Suddenly, at 4 p.m., Blatt's beady little eyes lit up and he cranked the volume up on the listening equipment of one of the scanners. "There's our boy!" he chortled. She paused for a long moment and we all held our breaths in the van. She sounded drugged and lost. He was indignant. Her voice lowered and Blatt cranked the volume until it hummed. <... I had to go to the bathroom while they were here and so of course Skinner left the room and she slipped the phone under my pillow while I used the bedpan. She didn't say anything though, just gave me a wink. > Mulder chuckled. She laughed, low and we could hear the rustle of the bedding. She must be settling down into the pillow. She sounded doubtful, though. She sounded drowsy and sexy. She was beginning to sound foggy. He indulged her. She stuttered, That shut him up for a minute. She was quiet, her breathing deep. he murmured. His voice was low and amused. Her voice had become petulant. Boy, she was good. I was on the edge of my seat. The pause however, was long. He would take a breath to begin and then, nothing. She would chuckle and break his concentration. That low, rich chuckle was getting to me in the close, hot van. He began humming a familiar lick. No, it couldn't be. It was. His voice was hesitant and husky. She somehow managed to stifle a laugh but Blatt let loose with a braying donkey roar, shaking the van. She sighed as though she was falling asleep, but I knew she wasn't. She broke in. Had she really said that? It sounded like a whisper and Mulder continued as though she hadn't said anything. She spoke louder this time. It was a refrain as though she was singing with him. <...This is what it sounds like when the doves cry. > He did not attempt the little gasps and squeals of Prince. I thought it was a good choice. Besides, he had some better lines to get to. I could see her tying butterflies up with those tiny white hands, her face as serious as it was when she had that gun to her head. They went back and forth. I was sweating. Jeez buddy, someone oughta tell you this is no way to get a chick. Pick 'Soft and Wet', hell, 'Little Red Corvette' would be perfect, this song is too much of a downer. He petered out and there was nothing but their breathing for a moment. She broke the tension. I get the feeling she does that a lot. Only then did he give a Prince squeal. She giggled. It sounded rusty. She sounded like a child trying to avoid bedtime. she sounded peeved but sleepy. the 'CLICK' cut him off. he murmured before cutting off the line. I rubbed my hands together with glee. "Perfect just perfect. I can get this on the air tomorrow morning..." Blatt cut me off. "Nah, we wait." I exploded. "Wait! What the hell are you talking about?" He explained carefully. "So you put it on the air now, and Skinner takes the phone away and we don't get anymore calls. We want more calls, don't we?" I had to agree, grudgingly. He went on. "Ok, good boy. See if you can get some more info, we need more before this story dies on us." End (02/07) send feedback to bugs1231@my-dejanews.com Butterflies All Tied Up by bugs-- (03/07) (NC-17) see part 1 for particulars I left Blatt in charge at the van listening to phone conversations and eating yet another hamburger while I made my way to Tiny's Coffee Shop downtown. I plastered a smile on my face as the woman approached my table. I glanced down at my hand on the coffee cup and willed the tremors to stop. I hadn't gotten much sleep these last two days and it was beginning to show. She slipped into the booth with me and I raised my eyes to hers. She was busy swiveling her head to make sure no one was watching her, thus drawing attention to herself. I put my hand out across the table. "Doris Whipple, I presume?" She smiled thinly at my little joke. "Yes and you're Mike Raaker of course." "My reputation proceeds me," I said grandly. She looked me over with her watery colorless eyes, seemed to want to say something but just nodded. Through many complicated mechanisms I had managed to contact Dole's partner in the bullpen under Mulder and Scully and by some miracle she had decided to let me talk to her. I was about to find out why. "You people in the press have this thing all wrong. You're making it seem so torrid," she said primly, nodding to the waitress's offer of a cup of coffee. "So tell me what was going on," I encouraged her. "Well." She was going to draw this out, get her moment in the sun, I could tell. "Regardless of what that man said, they never did anything at work. Nothing overt at least." "So they were involved?" I asked as a courtesy. "Oh definitely. Everyone at the bureau says so. The way they looked at each other! The thing is, I blame this partly on A.D. Skinner. Not that he isn't a fine boss," she corrected herself quickly. "It's just that for six years they had worked alone, in a little room with one desk. And suddenly they're in separate offices with Dole and I in a bullpen between them. They just weren't used to it, you could tell. Even during their recent...troubles...they were in the main bullpen and could still see each other. This arrangement, I think it upset them." "What do you mean?" I led her on. "Well, they would spend a lot of time in each other's office with the door closed, I could see how that would upset...someone..." I raised a brow and nodded to let her know I felt her pain. "I mean, the imagination would go wild! Dole's I mean." She took a sip of her over-sweetened coffee and continued. "The alternative wasn't much better. They would leave their doors open and they moved their desks so they could see each other and they would sit there and as they worked, they would...they would just glance at each other and nod...I can't explain it...it was as though they were talking in a foreign language and you know how that drives you crazy when you don't know what someone's saying?" she asked me intently. I eased my hand across the table and covered her cold little fist gripping her spoon. "I think I understand." "Not to say what Dole did was in any way justified," She clarified with a blustering tone. "No, of course not," I soothed. She looked at me beseechingly. "You do understand?" I nodded to reassure her. "Doris, may I call you Doris?" she nodded. "Doris, could you spare me the time to talk about this on camera?" She looked horrified. "I just came here today to straighten out some misconceptions you have about my fellow agents. I have no interest in making a spectacle of myself on television." "No, no, of course not. But the public isn't going to believe me if I turn the camera on myself and say the things you've told me. I need a body and voice even if it's disguised." "That won't do any good. Mr. Skinner and Mulder...Agent Mulder would know it was me." She struggled out of the booth. "No, no, don't tell anyone I came. I have to go." I grabbed at her hand and held her there. "At least tell me what the X-files are." She looked truly frightened then and wrenched her hand away from me. She hurried off; leaving me slumped in the booth. Another opportunity lost. I cased Scully's apartment building that night. After figuring which was her apartment, I checked out the building across the street. The roof was two stories lower than her building and offered some good sight lines. A little money to the landlord of the building, and I was the renter of a few square feet of his roof. I put in a call to a pal of mine at the Hall of Records, the bastard was actually asleep but I got him to go down and dig up the floor plans for her building. Fortunately the landlord had recently had to apply for some permits for improvements, and the plans were current. I looked them over and familiarized myself with the layout. Next I called another pal who specialized in surveillance equipment, a Mr. Smith, waking him up too, and brought him down to look things over. He got some ideas and went home to start gathering the necessary equipment. Things were progressing well. June 4, 1999; 5:35 am When I got back to the van just before dawn, Blatt had ripened to the next level of putrid and he and Hal were snoozing. I filled him in on my progress and he seemed pleased. "Good boy, you're catching on." The next call was from Scully to Mulder at 10am. Scully's disposition hadn't improved with some sleep. There was a lot of subtext there. I pitied him. His voice throbbed with an odd passion. She was indignant. She sounded incredulous. She was on a slow boil. He groaned, he fretted. She was remote. She sounded worried but capitulated. He hung up without saying goodbye. Within a few moments, Scully made a call out. He sounded hesitant. He sounded really worried now. She growled. He got the upper hand while she sputtered. She was all business again. He started in. He gulped and I began to feel sorry for him. She exploded. I heard a muffled curse and she lowered her tone. Her voice was made of stone. He plunged on. <...A personal...intimate relationship. > He had to stop to take a deep breath. I swear I could hear her sooty lashes blink, slowly, once. " He rushed on. His voice went up an octave. up another level, and he finished at a high squeak. After an interminable pause she said calmly, He sounded like he was strangling on his too tight tie. Maybe she could lie. I heard his chair creak as he leaned back in it. Skinner babbled on. She cut him off. It almost sounded as though there was a sob in her voice. He mumbled his good-byes, but the line was already dead. "Now, Blatt, now? If I hurry I can have these on the air by the early edition of the evening news." I was frothing. Blatt leaned back with satisfied grin on his fat sweaty face. "Nah, we wait." "What!" I exploded. "I need this exclusive...wait again?" "Yah, think about it. What better scene than our little heroine being escorted home by her knight, eh? If we play these tapes before she checks out, this Skinner fellow is just going to stop Mulder. No, we wait until after he has taken her home and then we play it to fill all those hours of footage of the exterior of her apartment building." I had to agree, grudgingly, that he had a point. I wondered how Skinner was going to get away with the no sexual relationship line now after hearing their intimate conversations. "Watch my moves kid, you'll learn a thing or two," Blatt said. June 5, 1999; 6:12 p.m. I had gotten myself a good position at the back of pack. All the other guys had fought for the rights to be at the door, but I wanted a different image. I was waiting back by the curb. My sources had told me there was no sign of Mulder in the hospital, so I was giving him credit for sweeping up on his chariot to carry her away at the curb. The hounds began baying excited cries and then I could see the light reflecting off the bull's head as he pushed through the crowd. Suddenly, just a few inches away from me, she was there. I had to look down, down to find her. Our eyes met. Damn she was small! Dole hadn't been a big man, so she hadn't seemed that small in his grasp. But now, in front of my gaseous-bellied, old sweat- smelling, wrinkled clothed body, she was tiny and fragile. Her eyes were cool and solid as steel though. She swept me aside with that gaze. AD Skinner was confused, looking around. He yelled at another agent. "Where the hell is the car?" The agent shrugged and began talking into his lapel. Skinner pulled Scully back against his body. A car approached. Skinner looked relieved and then constipated. Mulder stepped out of the vehicle and approached them as though he was stopping in his Sunday drive. "Sir. Scully. How you doing?" She was trying to control her face. She just shook her head in denial and then rolled her head back on her neck to look up to him. Her eyes were suddenly damp with unshed tears. He leaned in close and everyone took in a breath. He was going to kiss her. He didn't kiss her. He looked carefully at her bandaged shoulder and then over it to Skinner. "I'll take it from here, sir. Don't worry about a thing. Her bag?" Skinner chewed all his teeth and swallowed them, with difficulty. He handed the bag to Mulder without a word. Mulder opened the passenger door and Scully sat down, supporting herself on his arm. Skinner finally found speech. "I'll expect a call from you Mulder, when you've got Agent Scully settled in at home." Mulder was getting in the driver's seat. "Yes sir." He leaned over Scully's body and we all took in a breath again. Their eyes were locked. His hand snaked out slowly to tuck her limp red hair behind her ear and then as though he did this every day, grabbed the seat belt and brought it across her body. His hand brushed her breasts and she turned her gaze away from his actions and stared out the window at me. I realized she was looking right through me as he pulled the belt tight against her chest to buckle it. When he was done, he leaned in and whispered something in her left ear as he tucked the hair on that side out of the way. She stared straight ahead and said 'fine' to something, but I could see the single tear trickle out of her right eye, out of his eyesight. If this is what it was like to be around them all the time, no wonder Dole snapped. I was pretty close after just a couple of days of this. I shock myself out of my revelry and pushed Hal ahead of me as we scrambled in the van. We had to stay within range if the first toy Smith gave me, the sensitive long-range listening equipment, was going to work. As we raced after them, the speakers crackled and squeaked before finding the signal. Mulder was saying, "Scully, you sure you're ok? Maybe you should have stayed in the hospital another couple of days..." "No! No...But I do think it isn't such a good idea for you to be wasting your time staying with me." "Huh? But your mom..." "I know. I'll hire a nurse." "Now what's the point of that? You should have stayed in the hospital then! You think I can't even make some soup and fluff some pillows." I was watching them through binoculars through his car's back window. It was shaky, but I could make out Scully in the front seat staring down at her bruised and torn knuckles, picking at the scabs on her wrists. "Don't do that, they'll scar," Mulder admonished her. She screwed her mouth up like a little girl. "So what?" "Do your hands hurt? You worked him over pretty good." "Oh, so now we're going to talk about what happened." Mulder's tone of good will was gone. "What?" "You keep trying to avoid talking about what happened with Dole," she muttered. "Ok, let's talk. How did he get you?" "Well, I guess after you had your little talk with him," he cringed, "He got pissed and decided to punish us." "For what?" Scully shook her head. "I don't know. Maybe he came with some past problem..." "How did he get you?" "After I turned down your gracious invitation to lunch," he grimaced, "I went out to the park as I originally planned..." She was furrowing her brow to remember. "And I was on the bench back by the trees, in the shade, when I began to feel woozy. He must have drugged me. I wasn't knocked out, I just felt ill. And then he was there, offering to drive me back to the office. In his car, I was so thirsty. He offered me his water bottle; it must have been drugged. I couldn't move when he put the handcuffs on..." She buried her head in her chest. "Goddammit!" She burst out and he jumped. "What is it?" "Oh, I don't know, I guess it just felt good." She closed her eyes as if she was sleeping and Mulder sped up, escaping us. End (03/07) send feedback to bugs1231@my-dejanews.com Butterflies All Tied Up by bugs-(04/07) (NC-17) see part 1 for particulars There was a huddle of cameramen and equipment around her door, but as soon as they pulled up agents materialized from nowhere and shoved them out of the way for Mulder and Scully to be able to make their way through. I didn't join that group. I stayed in my van and adjusted the controls on my next toy, the video equipment. Hal had parked his car nearby earlier and left for the day, telling me he'd be back in the morning with Blatt. I was alone in the van, surrounded by the tools of my unholy trade. I began slugging back the coffee again, refueling for the coming evening. Smith had helped me set up cameras on the roof of the building across the street and we found a crack in one of the shades in her bedroom window and gap in the window frame of the bathroom to be able to focus into the rooms. We weren't able to find anything for the living room, so as the two agents entered the room I had to rely on my listening equipment and imagination to fill in the blanks. Of course this is all illegal and can't be used on the air, but we in the 'entertainment' press call it research. How do you think we're able to know our prey's every move? I heard the door close and Scully speak. "Mulder, what have you done?" "Which time?" he answered. "Don't be cute. Not this time. Why are we being hounded by the press?" she asked. "The cameras were there already when we arrived. Dole called them so he could have a proper audience for his game." She was silent for a few moments. Was she trying to remember? Memory loss isn't uncommon after trauma. "Yes, I see them now." She stumbled a bit. "Did they get...everything?" Everything was a lot for her, I could tell. "Yah. Everything...after you were being seen to by the EMTs...I took his gun and I desecrated the body." He sighed deeply. "What?" She sounded incredulous. "I shot his balls off. The kind of stuff they just love on the evening news. It's sort of gotten whipped up into a big deal. That's why Skinner wanted me to stay away, to see if it would calm down, but it hasn't. I think it might work if we just hide out in here for a couple of days with the shades drawn. I'm sure somebody in this town will do something soon to distract their attention away from us." I could hear the creak of a rusty smile on his face. "Why did you do that?" Her voice whispered. I didn't think he was going to answer and then he spoke his voice as low as hers, "Something in me just broke, I guess." I could hear nothing but their breathing, his shallow and rapid as though he was running, hers deep and rhythmic as though she was trying to keep herself from hyperventilating. I heard the rustle of him moving to her side. "Scully do you want to go to bed? Some food?" "No. I want a bath. I feel dirty." Those words. God. Had she been lying when she said that bastard Dole hadn't touched her? I had decided she couldn't lie, right? I heard Scully began to drag herself towards the bathroom. "Bathed in fear-sweat for three hours. Hospital smells clinging to me. Sponge bath for two days. I could drill for oil on my scalp. I must bathe." Bathe. Thank god, it was just a flash of obvious anal tendencies. "Can you do that with your stitches?" I heard Mulder's big feet galloping after her like a colt after the old gray mare. "Watch me." "But..." "Mulder, help me." They had entered the bathroom and I could see them at last. They stopped by a big tub that dominated the room. "Help you?" he squeaked. "Yes. I'll need help out of these clothes and then you'll need to take my bandage off. Why don't you start the water in the tub? I like it very hot." He turned like a robot, began filling the tub and asked her what bath oil she preferred. Whipped. "You see that bottle without the label? I want that one." She faded away and dropped down on the stool beside the tub. Mulder opened the bottle and breathed in the smell. I knew instantly it would be that linger of scent that was on her blouse the EMTs had left discarded on the ground back at the ice factory. Not that I had sniffed it or anything. It had just brushed my nose as I was picking in up off the ground. The room must be warm and I'm sure it quickly filled with that smell...the ScullySmell...Mulder whirled and dropped to his knees in front of her. She gave out a little gasp at the sound of his knees cracking on the tile floor. He bent over the task of taking her tiny little shoes off. He slipped his fingers into the first shoe for some reason. Nope, couldn't even get more than three fingers half way into the shoe... "Mulder?" "Huh?" He was looking up into her dazed, pain-filled eyes. "Have you taken your meds yet, Scully?" She looked away with a furious swipe of her head. "No. When I get in the bath bring them to me with a shot of whiskey to wash them down." "Scully!" "Don't be such a mommy." She griped and pushed her remaining shoe off with the other foot. He and I watched in fascination as her small white feet wrestled together to free themselves from their socks. "Mulder! I don't want the water to get cold." She struggled to her feet. I could see the anger rising on his face. So much for the course of true love running smooth. He looked her square in the eye, anger clashing with anger and reached down to grasp the waist of her sweatpants. Well, I was in for the whole show. He yanked both her sweatpants and her panties down to her ankles. The whole show started with a round little white ass. This was going to be...hard...in more ways than one. She steadied herself with her good hand, gripping his head tightly, scraping his scalp with her nails. "Sorry," he muttered. "Left, now right." He rose from his knees, bending at the waist, keeping his swollen groin area out of her view, kept his eyes from her panties, from her naked hip area and whirled around her body to stand behind her. He was a regular Fred Astaire. From the back he reached around her and pulled down the zipper of her sweat jacket. For some reason he stayed far enough behind her to not touch her body and still reach around to pull that zipper down over her breasts and pull it loose at the waist, brushing her soft stomach. He pulled the sweater off of her right arm and then very carefully off the bandaged left arm. He managed to remove her bandage with a minimum of wincing on her part. She was shaking from cold. His voice was distant and detached. "Get in the tub. Careful. Hold on to me." She turned to get in the tub and I saw her full-frontally-nude body for the first time. She was a small woman but beautifully proportioned and sleek as a half-grown kitten. My eyes couldn't stop themselves from being drawn to the horrible pucker of the fresh scar and the mottled black and purple of the bruise. "Oh, Scully." He and I both wanted to weep. "Get my medicine, please." She pushed herself down until the bubbles came up under her chin. She and I listened to him bumping around in her room. She started to soap up her body. Rubbing the cloth over her injured arm, she looked up at him as he wandered back into the room. "Can I help?" he asked. She dropped the washcloth onto the edge of the tub. "Sure, knock yourself out." He pulled a stool over to the tub and picked up the cloth, rubbing it on a cake of soap until it was covered in bubbles. He pulled one foot out of the water and carefully washed her foot and down her calf to the knee. She gripped the edge of the tub to keep from being pulled in. His arms dipped under the water. He must be washing her thighs. When she stopped him her voice sounded harsh. "I've already washed there." He pulled his hands out of the water hastily. "Ok, sorry." He grabbed the stool and walked hunched over behind her to set up again. Gently he pushed her forward and began the slow circles on her back. Now that he couldn't see her face she gripped her lower lip to keep herself from moaning. Did she need to act this remote? There were a rumor or two floating around the Hoover Building about that too. She stopped him. "I need to wash my hair, I'm not sure how to do That..." "Here's an idea...just lay back floating, and I'll hold you up," he suggested. His big damp hands took a hold of her shoulders carefully. She leaned back, unsure. She took a deep breath and let her feet come off the bottom of the tub and made herself float. The cooler air made her nipples harden as her breasts broke the surface of the water. I had noticed him grasp his dick between his thighs when he sat back down. Ah, the old trapped dick trick. Now he was in a pickle. We both stared down at her in a catatonic state, watching her breasts bob in the water, the flame of hair between her legs float among the last few bubbles, matched by her head of hair swirling around her still, carved ivory face. Uh, oh, he was rubbing his legs together. From the look of pain that crossed his face, I knew this did nothing to alleviate the pressure. "Ok, Mulder." She murmured. Why couldn't she be saying, "Oh, yah, Raaker," instead? He gently pushed her back up on her feet, the water streaming off of her hair. "Get that cup over there off the shelf. Use it to pour fresh water over my head when I need to be rinsed." He fetched the cup and her bottle of shampoo and sat back down. He was soaping her hair when she spoke and startled Mulder and I. "I guess I screwed up." "Huh?" he asked. "I should've known something was up with Dole. I knew someone must've drugged me, I just didn't suspect him," she muttered. "Scully, don't worry about it, I didn't take him seriously either. He was a joke to us, someone to laugh about after he went home," he answered. "I should've known," she said stubbornly. "At least we have matching scars now," she added. "Nope, I got mine lasered off," he said. She grinned suddenly and somehow he knew. "What?" he asked as she took the water cup and filled it while he softly whirled the suds through her hair. "You didn't keep my love tap?" she queried as she tipped her head back. He pushed the hair from side to side as he poured the water over her head. Suds ran down her neck and between her breasts. He chuckled. "The look in your eyes as you pulled the trigger burned into my mind is enough." She clamped down on her lips and didn't seem to have anything more to add to this odd exchange. Finally her hair was clean. He sounded like he was forcing cheerfulness. "So, I guess that's it." She had leaned forward and had pulled the plug out but was turning the water back on, steam rising from the fresh water. "I've gotta shave my legs, they're driving me crazy." He told her he hadn't noticed unsightly stubble when he had washed her legs. She shot him an annoyed look. "I know it's there. I just have fine body hair, but it's been five days since I've shaved and I can't stand it." He fetched a razor. "Do you have shaving lotion?" "No, I just use soap." He pulled his stool back down by her feet. She was grumbling again. "You can't do this." He snipped back at her. "You can't either. Do you want it done or not?" Maybe I had this all wrong. Maybe this guy was gay. He was taking way too much interest in her personal grooming. Not my game at all, frankly, but then again I haven't given it a try. I just wanted the leg hair gone; I didn't want to be the one doing it. He did a careful but thorough job. He was whispering under his breath, "Steady, steady." When he glanced at her she gave him a soft little smile. He dropped the razor into water. "Sorry." His hand was feeling around. She helped him. "Back a little, to your left." It looked like he found it by her butt. He finished with her legs and rocked back on the stool seeming to be pleased with himself. "Out without a scratch." There must be a nasty part of her that she kept down deep...most of the time. "Mulder, I need my armpits shaved too." "What?!" he squeaked. "Even more than leg hair, hair under my arms kills me," she continued. "All right, all right. Are you able to lift your left arm?" he asked. "No, I can't lift it high enough, but the right one...it'll do." She looked at him through slit eyes as she lifted her right arm in the air with a lazy motion. He got down on his knees by her shoulder and looked into gentle valley of her armpit. "Be careful, hold the muscles back so that the area is flat," she murmured in his ear. "Ok." He licked his lips and pushed the muscles back until the skin was tight. He ran the razor quickly down over the hair. "There." He was triumphant. "Thank you Mulder, I'll have to return the favor sometime." She was giving him that lazy look again. What was she thinking about shaving off of him? "Ok, I'll take you up on that..." His attempt at humor fell as flat as her face. She stood suddenly in the tub and swayed from the rush of blood to the head. He grabbed her wet, slippery body. "Thanks," she said as she stepped out of the tub. He wrapped her in a body towel and fetched the panties and pajamas he had laid out on the edge of the bed. He had chosen the white cotton briefs probably for sentimental reasons and yellow flannel pajamas with large red cherries on them. Her mouth turned down when she saw them. "You don't want these?" he asked. "They were a gift. I was wearing a set of blue silk ones before..." "I think flannel is best, now that the hot weather has finally broken," he said firmly. She let the towel loose...there he was again, back down on his knees, this time pulling her panties on. I had never thought putting clothes on a woman could be erotic, but now I was thinking of amending that notion. He lightly brushed her skin as he pulled up and secured her panties on her hips. He let his big dark hands rest for a moment on her hipbones. He looked as though it was taking every inch of his self-control to not rest his head on her stomach. The flannel could never be as soft as the skin on her belly I decided, as he slowly pulled the bottoms up her silky legs. She was standing stock still, as though she was afraid to move, and stared intently at the wall behind him. He carefully applied bandages over the scars on both sides of her shoulder, pushing her damp hair aside. "Do you want me to dry this?" he murmured in her ear. She shook her head no as he pulled the top on her and slowly buttoned it up. Almost there...relief was almost there for me...he led the stumbling slight figure to the bed. He had turned back the covers and now sat her on the edge, swung her feet under the duvet...yes, almost there. His voice, so calm, "Two pillows or one Scully?" A faint whisper. "Two please, I need to elevate the injury to reduce the pain." Of course, perfectly sensible. He fluffed the extra pillow leaning over her to place it behind her back...her shampoo must have no effect on him. He pulled back and looked at her sad little face. Watched her nibble on her lower lip, glancing away from him with shiny eyes...One tear escaped and balanced for a moment on an eyelash and then slid down her face. He looked fascinated. She needed to be comforted in her time of pain. He had to do it. Just a goodnight kiss on the forehead, just like Daddy would give her...when he pulled back I saw she had let several more tears escape. I heard his voice crooning, "Oh, now Scully, don't cry." He licked a tear off of her left cheek and then switched to chase one down her right cheek...oops it had gotten away, it was on her lip! His tongue swept over her lips, wiping them dry, moistening them with his warm salvia. He supported himself over her and tilted his head to the other side to lick her lips the other direction. He had to lift the nape after all...I realized he...I had lost all reason. His tongue was big and strong enough, I'm sure it could get its own way. He pressed it between her lips and she sobbed, opening to it. The victor would wrestle his opponent to the mat, the warm soft mat, and then let himself be flipped and held in a tight grip...her one strong hand was on his chest and gave a strong push. He jumped back and I thought frantically, "What's the problem? Damn her, damn him, damn me!" End (04/07) feedback to bugs1231@my-dejanews.com Butterflies All Tied Up by bugs-(05/07) (NC-17) See part 1 for particulars Scully sat still and quiet for a moment, so small in her big bed. When she looked up she was still shiny eyed but it was like wet steel instead of deep soft waters. She pulled herself free from the covers and got up to stand stiff and straight in front of him. "Mulder, I think we need to talk about this..." If there are any words that a man wants to hear less from a woman, I couldn't think what they would be. I pitied him. She looked back down. That sudden strength was gone. "Mulder, I don't want you to feel you have to do anything to...comfort me...I'm fine...I mean, I know you would do anything for me, anything you thought I needed..." She went on. "And I'm not saying...I know you have feelings for me Mulder." This came out in a rush. He blushed like a schoolboy caught writing a girl's name on his binder. "But I think those feelings are jumbled up with feelings for your sister. I've noted that I'm roughly the same age as Sam. I'm small, this all feeds into your need to relive the experience with your sister, make it right this time..." She was getting stronger, as though she had found her stride. Hey, wait a minute, what was she suggesting about his feelings for his sister!? "The thing is...If you've sensed a need in me...don't feel as though you have to do me any favors. I mean, I know I'm not your type..." She was back to staring at her hands. What did that mean? She seemed to read my mind. "I'm just a basic ordinary woman with all of her original parts the size they developed at twelve. I know you like something different...enhanced, larger...perhaps more size compatible..." She looked at him and tried to smile but it didn't really work. He looked immobilized and stunned. She had to look away again for the next part. "And I know you have special needs..." Special needs? It made it sound as though he had been kept separate from the other children. Wait a minute, he I think I saw he had been... She flung her head back and looked him square in the eye. "I'm not like that. I like just plain ordinary sex. A man and woman and their compatible genitalia. No props, no extra players, no oversized body parts..." She lost her nerve and dropped her glance again. I could tell he was seeing red and it wasn't just the damp, curly halo of hair around her hung head. He was furious. He was having a flashback to the Junior High debating team, madly shuffling through his 3X5-inch index cards trying to figure out where to start his rebuttal, I was sure. How dare she judge him like this! She didn't know my...needs...she didn't know what went on in my mind... I watched his huge hands reach down and grip her the back of her thighs under her buttocks. He lifted her up and slammed her tight against his chest and looked into her shocked eyes for only the briefest of moments before he started kissing her with all his strength. As a rebuttal it may not be sophisticated but it appeared to be effective. Mulder pulled free from her mouth and grumbled against her neck as he sucked and chewed it. "That's better, one problem solved, the height difference..." Scully seemed to be letting the waves of sensation lap at her hot body and rested against him, licking up curve of his ear to the elfin point. His mouth suddenly returned and she plunged wildly back down into its dark depths. He was trying to rub his hard cock against her crotch, but when she was kissing him, her hips were somewhere around his sternum. His hips bucked up ineffectively. He was frustrated; I could hear it in his gasps against her mouth. He lowered her back to the floor and she was grumbling herself. He stepped back and stared at her. "I don't want to hurt you," he said. She reached out with a hand. "You hurt me when you step away." That was probably the most intimate thing she had ever said to him and of course, he didn't notice. "I mean, I don't want to hurt you, you're so damn small, I mean..." He let his words run down. She rocked back on her heels and spoke slowly. "Well, I've found in my experience, and my experience has been always with...big men..." She let her eyes sweep down to his bulge in his sweatpants. He looked sad already. No Mulder, I don't think she's coming to you a vestal virgin. "...That as long as we do a lot of foreplay, I receive a lot of oral sex first, have at least one or two orgasms to loosen me up and then I get to be on top, everything turns out ok." He actually took her seriously. He nodded like an obedient dog. "Ok, that sounds like it might work...but Scully...I just think we should wait anyway...take things slow...work at it, when you're healed up of course, take some time, get to know each other..." She turned her back on him. "Yah, that's it. Well, I'm going to sleep now, suddenly I'm very tired." He rushed forward to help her into bed, sickening in his eagerness to remove her from the situation. After he tucked the bedding under her set and angry chin he turned to escape the room. She bellowed at him. "Where the hell are you going?" "Out there to sleep on the couch." He motioned vaguely at the doorway. "You can't fit on that damn couch, get into this bed," she ordered him. He hesitated so she went on, low and silky. "I thought we just went over this. First you're going to ask my mother for permission to court me, then you're going to start slipping notes across the desk at me with little X's and...X's under your name...in other words, ain't nothin' gonna happen in this bed tonight. You're tired, I'm tired...Get in here so you're not the disabled one in the morning." Was she making fun of him? But she did have a point. If he could slip a Vicodin into her and knock her out, he would be able to lay there beside her and...rest. I knew he wasn't going to sleep. He was never going to sleep again. Because when he and I closed our eyes we would have the image of his face buried between her legs, in the odd improbable situation of being underwater, so that her red hair swirled in the waves, like it had in the tub, swirling around his head. He dove under the covers on the night table side of the bed. "Let me get you your pill." He fumbled for the glass of water he had set up and the pill bottle. "I don't want to have a pill, I think they are having a depressive effect on me," she stated in a cold tone. "Good night Mulder and...thank you for everything." She sounded singularly ungracious. I watched him carefully arranged the thick duvet in a tent over his hips. "You're welcome, Scully, and good night." She was dozing fitfully in the dark room. I could tell her shoulder had started to throb with a hot pain, waking her. I ached to go over to her apartment and help her. Mulder lightly snored beside her. He seemed to be sleeping like the dead. I watched her push herself up on her right arm. The left arm must have screamed in protest when she tried to lift it higher than a few inches to reach over Mulder's body. She winced in pain and lay across him to reach with the right arm... She had to wiggle a bit to get closer to the table... A hot breath puffed in her ear. "Scully, what're you doing?" It was an amused voice. A voice that suggested perhaps she was trying to seduce him. Well, he could forget it, I knew she would never, ever do that again. He should be so lucky. "I'm trying to get a pain pill," she muttered. "Why didn't you wake me?" the husky voice in the dark asked. "I didn't want to disturb you." This sounded kind of shaky. "Well, you have. You've disturbed me a lot." His mouth was very close to her ear now. She was refusing to turn her head and look because then their mouths would be within inches of each other...that's my girl! "I'm truly sorry." I knew she was. I knew she just wanted to slip into a drug-induced coma and forget all about him. "Scully, uh, are you going to move?" He sounded amused. She started to wiggle again, mad as hell, but couldn't keep herself from groaning in pain. He grabbed her around the hips to stop her. "Scullee..." She was being lifted weightlessly into the air and settled down on his chest, a leg resting on either side of his torso. "Are you going to admit to me now that you've secretly been a member of the Ice Capades all along?" She said with a dead pan expression. "Yah, Olga, care to try the death spiral?" He sounded like he was the one taking the painkillers, slurred and distant. He laughed suddenly, an oddly joyous sound. She sat up on her knees. She looked down at him coolly for a moment. Now she was going to devastate him. She was just choosing her weapon. No! No! Not the kiss! Mulder met her halfway when he craned his head up and captured her lips, thrusting his tongue into her mouth before she could protest. We all lost track of time. She just stayed draped on top of him, kissing and kissing him. I could see their tongues intertwined and pushing at their cheeks. She finally let go of his mouth to allow him to catch his breath. "Scully, like I said before, I don't think..." he gasped, embarrassed. "I know, I know," she conceded. She gave him a sly smile. "Perhaps we could just pet a while... haven't you heard about Catholic girls, Mulder? We weren't supposed to give out, so we got lots of practice petting." She ran her hands over his tee shirt, grasping the hard mounds of his pectorals through the soft material. She pushed back her hips and rubbed his hard-on lightly. He bucked up with a proper enthusiasm but then started flaying his arms in protest. "Scullee, stop that! Not that I don't like it. It's just that we need to stop, you need to get your rest..." "Can you go back to sleep?" she asked. "Nooo..." he mumbled. "I can't either...so shut up and kiss me." I liked her attitude and was a little ashamed. Mulder put a hand over the mouth that was lunging down at him. "Uh, let's think about this." Those red brows raised. "I mean, I want to, I really do...but I don't want to hurt you...so maybe we can just stick with something that doesn't take very much motion." He looked up into her velvet eyes nervously. "It could be part of us getting to know each other. Exploring so to speak, exploring each others depths..." Poor choice of words. She bit the back of his hand lightly. He let go of her mouth but stayed tense and ready to move again. She nodded with a curt motion as though she was agreeing to let him interrogate the perp first. He pulled his knees up and pushed her shoulders back slowly so she rested on the hard cushion of his thighs. She watched him with all the seriousness reserved for examining a murder victim as he began to slowly unbutton her pajama top. The buttons were large and seemed to be almost impossible for his fumbling fingers to manipulate. Finally he was finished and he brushed the soft flannel back. They sat there together for what seemed like hours as Mulder slowly moved his palms over the silky surface of her stomach. Scully slipped her hands under his tee shirt and I watched her fingers burrow under the material like inquisitive gophers. He pushed the top's edges away. Her breasts hung in front of his face, one pale and pink, one mottled purple. He must not have been able to help himself, again. "Ah, Scullee..." "It'll go away, like all my pain, I know you can make it go away." "I don't know Scully, I can only remember the ways I've hurt you." "Sometimes you really piss me off, Mulder...so how about this Mulder, today will be the first day of the rest of our lives." Her look bore down into him with the pain of staring into the sun. "Hello, my name is Fox Mulder and I'm addicted to Dana Scully, how I'm doin' so far?" He looked as though he wanted to cry. She gave him a sudden grin that caused his hard-on to twitch. With her special low sexy voice, the one I was just beginning to recognize, she said, "Shall we start the twelve step program?" I heard him...giggle. God, what a girlie giggle. He pushed himself up on his elbow and gently licked the tip of her pink nipple. She sat still and watched him. He let the hard tip of his tongue wander lightly over the surface of her firm breast. Her right arm moved behind her back. He was distracted and must not have realized what she was doing until he felt her fingers snaking under the waistband of his sweatpants. She gently lifted the material up and over his erection. "Now, where's the Flukeman?" she murmured. What the hell does that mean? She was slowly traced those cold long fingernails of hers around and around his hard damp cock. She didn't turn to see it; she must have a good memory. He gasped as the cool air hit his hot sensitive skin. We both waited for her firm grasp but it didn't come. He must want it so badly, so badly he took it out on her neck, grabbing the side of the slim column with his teeth and sucking until she growled. Her hand remained slow and steady. Damn that woman had control! Her technique seemed to be working. He had tried to fight back with the assault on her neck but now he had fallen back and was just aimlessly squeezing her waist and gurgling in the back of his throat, his eyes wide and white rimmed like a panicked horse. She sucked her lower lip into her mouth as though concentrating on a tough question. Her thumb found the head of his penis and rubbed it very lightly and then scrapped the tip of her nail across it. "Oh dear..." was all he could garble out with a high voice. He sounded like a little old lady. I wondered if she got off on this kind of power. Her technique seemed slightly tentative as though she was doing it for the first time. Had it only been in the theory stage for a number of years? The trials seemed to be going very well. Would she be looking for other test subjects? Mulder had to do something for her. There she was up there, doing all the work and he was just lying under her like some sort of love slave master. Something reciprocal. Reciprocate. Reciprocate. I sweated those words out. He was staring at her firm belly and traced the sway of her hips with his fingertips. Maybe she had something there with the light touch. He used his first two fingers on his right hand to pull back the waistband of the bottoms of her pajamas. God I loved that flannel. I was going to have to find a way to steal one of the pieces and take it home to sleep with as a Lovie. He ran just the two fingers down the swell of her lower belly and then raised his hand slightly to let the nails rake through her pubic hair. The flesh would become softer and softer as he neared the crevice between her thighs. He was getting to her, I could tell. Sure, she wasn't saying anything, just staring him down through slit lids, but she was panting lightly like she was pushing back some unknown terror. He was going to make her afraid of the dark before he was done. Firm, then unspeakably soft and silky, like plunging his hand into a peach...she was raising herself up on her knees to give him better access, with a soft sigh. She pulled her hand away from his cock to support herself on his knee and arched her back to tilt her hips. He began to pump his hips slightly to rub his penis on her flannel encased back...and then somehow slipped it under the cloth in the same way his two fingers were touching her center, with the light touch of a ghost. I wondered if his penis was rubbing the spot where her tattoo I had seen in the police photo was...that circle...that hole into her soul... He gently probed the entrance to her vagina, dampening his index finger and then sliding it back up to roll her clit around like a soft ball of clay. His finger wandered back down and I heard her suck in her breath. As he slipped the finger in she gasped, "Yes, yes, that's just what I want..." His finger was like a curious eel, searching every ridge and surface inside her dark depths. She reached back and slid her palm up and down the exposed underside of his cock, pressing it further into her back. He had slipped the index finger out, and she moaned in dismay but then he earned her groan of approval when he gently pushed his middle finger back in with the first finger. The first shuddering sigh came out of her. She gazed down on him. His mouth hung open in an almost humorous expression of befuddlement. Sweat had twisted his hair into a wild nest. Tears creased down the sides of his face. All the muscles of his chest and arms twitched with the effort to control himself. I leaned so close to the screen my breath fogged the glass. I couldn't believe it when I heard her voice, clear and authoritative. "Mulder, stop!" End (05/07) send feedback to bugs1231@my-dejanews.com Butterflies All Tied Up by bugs-(06/07) (NC-17) see part 1 for particulars Stop? Stop? The amazing part was, Mulder actually did stop. He stopped with his fingers buried up to the knuckle, his hand sticky with her juices and his thumb stilled on her clit. He stopped his hips from their lazy pumping. She had trained him well. "Is something wrong Scully?" His voice was so calm I wondered if he hurt something in his brain with the effort. "No, nothing is wrong, well, uh, Mulder, maybe you should remove your hand, you're distracting me." She had taken her hand off of his dick and was tugging lightly on his tense wrist. He pulled his fingers out immediately and wiped his hand off on his exposed stomach. She watched him do this and then ran her hand over the damp and sticky hair, smoothing it back into its original swirls. She started slowly. "Do you think I'm being a cock tease, Mulder?" This was one of those moments, I decided. One of those moments in a relationship where a guy has to concentrate really hard on the subtext and let the obvious answer wander away and grumble in the corner. It was amazing how easy it was for him. Maybe he did really love her. "No Scully. Was that not enough, do you need something else?" A few tears dropped off her eyelashes. That was one of the things I had noticed about her, her ability to cry without crying. "No, you were doing everything right, it's just...it's just not what I want right now, right at this moment, at..." she turned her head to squint at the clock. "...At 12:31 on this very special day. Do you know why this is a special day, Mulder?" "Because it's the first day of the rest of our lives." She gave him a sweet reward of a smile. "Yah, and the first time, the first time I want all of you. I want you to fill me...do you know what I mean?" "Yah, I know...I want you to fill me too..." The one eyebrow went up. "You know what I mean." He grinned. "We only have one first time." She flopped over onto of him, breaking her fall with her one good arm. "No pressure or anything Mulder." "You're the one who started this, Scully." His voice sounded chiding to me. "So you are calling me a cock tease." Her voice became chilly. How the hell had this happened? Now I remembered why I wasn't very good at relationships. A .360 batting average was only good in baseball. None of this was making any damn sense. I had a headache and an ache in my... "No, baby..." He sounded as though he was trying the word on for size and from the look she shot him, probably should decide not to try it again. "I understand. I just don't think you can stand the stress of actual intercourse right now." He went on in his best talking-the-madman-out-his-gun voice, low and steady. "Scully, I think we should address this issue tomorrow morning after we've both had some rest, and right now I think you should take that pain pill as you originally intended." Her glare could shatter a diamond. She pushed herself sitting upright on his chest and his half-limp dick gave a hopeful hop. "Then give me my pill and some water." This must be a trick. She must be up to something. He dropped the pill into her palm and then slowly gave her the glass of water. Would she dump it on his head? No, she took a quick gulp of the water and slapped the glass back in his hand. He lowered her back onto the mattress. He really should get her a new pair of panties and a new bottom for her pajamas, but I'm sure it was all he could do to straighten the ones she had on. Last, he pulled the covers back up under her chin, avoiding her glacial gaze. She lay straight as a board beside him and staring at the ceiling. God, how long will it take for that pill to take effect? He eased the covers off his feet and swung off the bed. Mulder was walking out the door, again. "Goddammit, Mulder! Stop!" she growled. She tossed the covers aside and stumbled after him. He shuffled to a stop and just stood there with his back to her, head hanging. She reached up with her good hand and grabbed his shoulder and pushed down hard. "Get down, now!" With a little squeak Mulder crashed to his knees, probably thinking all the wild thoughts I was thinking, like bunnies hopping madly across a meadow. She came around to his front and looked down at him thoughtfully, pursing her little mouth. He had to stop looking at her lips, she would think he wasn't taking her seriously. "I get tired of looking up at you all the time, Mulder, it gives me a cramp, a cramp I can't make go away, do you know what I mean Mulder?" she murmured. Mulder bobbed his head up and down, unable to speak. For once he had to look up to her but it wasn't too high to give HIM a pain. His eyes were level with the dimple at the base of her throat right about where her gold cross nestled. I watched him suck gently on his lower lip as he stared at the cross. Was he fantasizing about sucking on the piece of jewelry, probably breaking several commandments in the process? He glanced up see the underside of her plump lower lip and then on up to her suddenly drowsy looking eyes, their heavy lids dipping to her soft cheeks. He should let her chew him out so she could go to sleep, she was obviously tired. When he hadn't noticed, she had moved closer and as her suddenly ragged breaths went in and out, her breasts brushed his chest. He hadn't buttoned her top back up and all he had to do was push the two edges open... This was going to be a leap. She was going to have to kiss him. He was apparently paralyzed. Perhaps he was too tired; she should let him go to sleep... Just a good night kiss, soft as a mother's, a brush of the lips, another brush, soft as kissing her pillow when she was thirteen...prodding his mouth open with her tongue...reaching in and finding what she was looking for, caressing it, welcoming it into her mouth...the feeling of his hands under the top of her pajamas, smoothing and cooling her hot skin... That voice, questioning, questioning, was he ever going to stop talking? "I thought we had decided to stop...I still don't think this is a good idea...what're you doing?" "Well, Mulder I'm trying to get you to think with your little head," probably wasn't a Scully sort of comment, so she stayed silent and persistent. She shifted slightly and slowly rubbed his erection with her leg, chasing it as it skittered backwards away. He gave a glug sound and fell back on his heels. She had him now. She moved one leg between his open knees and continued her assault. He leaned his sweaty forehead against her breast bone panting, "Scul-ee..." This was more like it. She lowered her shoulder letting the sleeve slide off of her good arm and moved slightly to the right so that his mouth was there, over her breast...would he get the idea? Aye yes, there we go, we have lift off...Mulder began to work on her breast diligently and this distracted him enough to let her begin rubbing vigorously against his erection. He whimpered against her damp breast causing her nipple to be sucked further into his mouth. She gave one strong pant and he was off of her, staring up at her, worried. "For god's sake, Mulder, stop worrying about me! Do you want to do this or not!" I understood she was mad and horny but perhaps this wasn't the way to get a man to do your bidding. He gave her the hurt little boy look. "I thought we had agreed that we would wait..." She couldn't stop herself. "What the hell are you, my prom date? Do I have to pin you first?" That was a thought... she tried reason, like talking a crazy man down off a ledge. "Ok, I've done some thinking..." He interrupted, "In the two minutes since we were on the bed?" She went on. "I have very rapid thought processes when the situation warrants." She had managed to pull down her pants and panties and was in the process of stepping out of them. "Now, using my knowledge of physics I've found a solution to this logistical problem. Pull down your pants." He looked at her, frightened. She sighed and grabbed his shoulder with her good hand, leaned on it and shifted her weight onto right foot. She slipped her left foot under the waistband of his sweatpants and slid the sole of her foot up his rigid cock. He leaned back a little, apparently pinned down by her actions. She had the waistband snagged on her heel. She pulled it out and over the tip of his penis. It sprung free and he let out a gasp of relief. "I just, don't want to..." He garbled out. She soothed him. "Don't worry, I'll be ok." He wiggled out of his tee shirt and pulled her body against him gently, pulling her top around both of them. One part of her must have felt cold and naked. She put a foot on each side of his thighs and opened herself slightly. I went faint. I swear I could smell the golden cloud of want that surrounded both of them. Could she sense his cock pulsing up at her, naked and alone too? She must have because she bent her knees ever so slightly and let her slick lips come in contact with the head of his penis. She rotated her hips gently to lubricate them with their fluids. "OhScullyohGodohScully," Mulder was chanting in her ear. She paid him no mind. She was concentrating. His hips were bucking, trying to get into her and I wondered if she loved the thought of being chased, pursued by a creature with no worse intent than her pleasure. "Where have I misplaced those schematics?" she mumbled drunkenly. I could tell her they weren't back in the boring old third dimension. They were in a crazy forth dimension of their own making, made up of pulsing heat rising off of his cock, the honey dripping from her, and the constant harsh moans from their throats. She waited until he had sat back down onto his heels in frustration. She sank with him, slipping down...oh yes, that's right, Tab A into slot B...she concentrated on being open, and receptive, receptive to this need they both had and she found herself able to take it all in. She wasn't closed off to extreme possibilities. She let her head loll back with that feeling of freedom that comes from standing at the bow of a sailing ship pressed back by the wind... Mulder was grasping frantically behind him. What the hell was he doing? She had gotten them into this position, this incredible position, but he couldn't seem get any leverage. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I vaguely thought he was going to embarrass himself in the next few minutes. What the hell, so was I. He had been reaching for the footboard of her bed. He got a good grip with both hands behind him on the wood. He got his feet under him. His personal trainer would be proud of his form in the dip position. "Upsy daisy." He said with a grunt. He was rewarded with a look of sleepy surprise in Scully's eyes. He was pinned under her hot blue gaze. He was going to go blind from looking into her eyes. It was like looking at a welder's arc. She shifted her weight onto the balls of her feet so that he wasn't supporting both of them. Not that he couldn't have at this moment; he could do anything right now. He was plugged into the ultimate power source. She smiled slowly and rolled her head back, showing him the underside of her chin and lips and the sweep of her eyelashes, and then she pinned him under that intense gaze again. I had the image of icebergs calving off of a cerulean glacier. His arms were shaking from being frozen in position. She shifted the angle of her hips forward and planted her feet squarely on the ground. She tensed around him like a velvet fist and he lost it. He sucked a breath in and started pumping up madly. She met his intensity, grinding down on his pelvis. She shifted from foot to foot, twisting on his cock. "SweetMaryMotherOfGod...forgive me...for I have sinned..." she moaned over and over again. The forth dimension was now stretched out to cover his torso, glistening gold with sweat, his straining arms lifting and dropping them, his face open and smooth, his mouth hanging loose with his tongue glistening and writhing in the dark depths. He never broke eye contact with her... The shoulder muscles pulled back tight to support the arms, stretched the pectorals out, flattening them and hardening them...the abdominals contracting in effort to lift the two of them up, to give a little buck at the end of each thrust... The tangle of hair where their bodies joined, wild and intermingled as their thoughts but two separate entities, red and black. She rocked back and stared down at this image, fascinated. He gave a special little gasp for that movement and she looked at him with slit predatory eyes. The move must have made his cock press and slide down the wall of her vagina, could she feel every ridge? When he drove back up he could he be pressing somewhere different and dark within her? The changed pitch of his groans suggested having his erect penis pulled back in resistance had a certain pain/pleasure effect for him as well. She rocked back on her heels and dropped her head again to stare at their joined place. When he was on a down stroke she lifted slightly off to see his cock, dark and slick. She slammed down as he pumped up. His eyes were dilated and frightened. He was whimpering and I knew he must be close. I had been counting. It had been 136 seconds since he had first pumped into her. You'd think this guy hadn't been laid in ten years. Frankly I was surprised, a good-looking guy like that, you'd think he had a little better technique, but I guess appearances can be deceiving. She wasn't doing any better. All he would need to do is lick the sweat from her chin and she would come, I knew it in my heart. She leaned all the way over him and somehow managed to reach the footboard and grab it with her right hand. His mouth was too far from her chin. Damn. Her eye was looking right at his twisting, gasping tongue but there was no way she was slipping a millimeter off of his cock to even kiss him. She closed her eyes and must have felt his impossibly soft lower lip under the sweep of her lashes. He gently kissed her eyelid and that was it. She was crying out with sweet desperation, baby sounds against the thud of my heart and the crashing waves of blood pounding in my ears. It was all she could do to stay on her feet and just let her body follow its course. I knew she was deaf to Mulder's bellows but I heard every one. I was glad he was so loud, he drowned out my whimpered moans. Yes, that was much better. I'm sure we all felt better now. He managed to hang onto her with one hand and the foot board with the other and lower them to the ground but that was all the heavy lifting he was probably going to be able to do for a few minutes. She would just have to sit there with his slick limp penis inside her. She leaned against his chest, nestling into the crook of his neck, not seeming to mind. He said something really stupid. "So that's plain ordinary sex?" He should be glad he said it now while she was apparently incapacitated, but she did still manage to bite him, hard, on the nipple. A few minutes passed and we all got control of our breathing patterns. Then the idiot started in again. "I'm sorry," a husky voice was whispering in her ear. "Huh?" Scully mumbled. "I'm sorry it wasn't better. I just...well, it's been a while...although that isn't an excuse...I shoulda been better prepared..." The voice was now whining. She snapped her eyes open to look up at Mulder's pained-covered face. "What has let you to believe that I did not find that an enjoyable experience?" "Well, I'm sure you had an enjoyable experience..." He stumbled on his words. "But I shoulda held out longer, made it last..." "Believe it or not, that was exactly what I wanted. Like you yourself said, that was the only first time we are even going to have. I wanted it to have all the passion and longing and bone crushing want I've been feeling. You don't have to impress me with your skills. I'm not some girl you picked up in a bar. You aren't auditioning for a part in my life. If you'd been smooth and controlled I would have been scared shitless 'cause that wasn't what I was feeling. I was feeling out of control and overwhelmed with want. Do you understand me?" she finished her rush of a speech. He nodded, bumping the top of her head. "Good. Now you need to carry me to bed, I can't feel my legs." He managed to stumble to his feet, drag off his stretched out and stained sweats and tossed them aside. He carefully picked her up, carried her to the bed and slipped her under the covers. She waited until he went around to the other side of the bed. "Besides, you've got the rest of our lives to show me all your moves." I could see his eyes glistening like diamonds in the darkness of her bedroom. That'll shut him up. Now she could get some sleep. He crouched halfway under the covers, frozen in place, and the goosebumps that had risen up his back and skinny ass caught in the shine of the moonlight. His hyperventilation was her lullaby as she fell asleep immediately. June 7, 1999; 7:48 am A sharp rapping like a woodpecker woke Mulder and I. I snorted and rubbed my eyes quickly to clear them and focused on my monitors. I adjusted the volume on the speakers as he raised his head and looked around the room for the source. The form cuddled next to him in the bed caught his attention. Scully lay on her right side cradling her sore left arm but her face was smooth and pain free. He watched her eyes flick slightly under her eyelids. She didn't wake though. Someone was at the door. He slipped out from under the covers and tucked the duvet tight against her body so that none of the morning chill could assault her. His balls tightened against the cold. He started looking around for his sweatpants. He found them tangled on the floor. The memories of their activities in the dark shadows on the rug surged back. He and I found ourselves panting in unison. The rapping continued. He pulled on the sweatpants and staggered out to the living room. I heard him pull the door open and then his voice, defensive. "Something I can help you with this morning, sir?" "Jesus, Mulder, you reek of sex," Skinner growled. Well, so much for polite conversation. "Scully is on medical leave and I'm on administrative leave pending an investigation, so I can't think of any work related business that you would need to talk about so I'll see you at the office at a later date, ok?" "What the hell's going on here?" Scully had escaped the bedroom without me noticing. End (06/07) send feedback to bugs1231@my-dejanews.com Butterflies All Tied Up by bugs-- (07/07) (NC-17) see part 1 for particulars "What are you two doing standing in the open doorway like that, arguing?" Scully scolded. Skinner didn't mention if she smelled of sex too. I was suddenly furious. This was their time. They should be back in bed awakening slowly in each other's arms, whispering all sorts of secrets in each other's ears, not standing out here with morning breath and bed head and their boss reaming their asses. But Scully seemed as calm and controlled as though she were making a report in Skinner's office rather than standing there with no underwear on and Just-Been-Fucked hair swirling around her head. "How are you today, sir?" Skinner sounded lost. "You two, what the fuck are you doing?" Nobody said anything. Scully, who could not lie but perhaps did not like her answer, stayed silent. Mulder, who could lie but probably had decided to start a new program as of today, stayed quiet. Skinner must have been thinking. He spoke. "I think you're not happy unless you're fighting against the odds. You had it all just a couple of days ago. You had your assignment back. You had my support. You had a group of agents to help you. But you have too much self-hatred to just sit back and enjoy it, don't you?" I realized Skinner was addressing Mulder. "So you gotta create a public scene that causes you to be persecuted by a whole new group of jackals. Just when I might be able to clean that up, you gotta be sloppy and use an unrestricted phone line for phone calls that is now being broadcast around the world and there's no way you can get out of that." I could hear them both gasp. "And now this! I can't ignore this and I gotta find a way to deal with it. And you're right back home again. You're pursued, persecuted and one second from being fired." I knew Skinner was speaking partly out of pain but it didn't make it any better. Mulder mumbled, "I'm sorry sir..." Scully broke in. "Well, I'm not. I am sorry if we've hurt you as a friend. What has happened between Mulder and I is personal and now was the time it was meant to happen, however inconvenient it may be to you or the Bureau. Now, if you will excuse us sir, I really need a shower and some more rest." How could she get away with that? Acting like the Queen of England when she should be hiding under the sofa? Skinner was walking to the door. "Think about what I said Mulder," he warned him as he pulled the door shut behind him. I watched him wander into the bathroom already filled with steam from the shower. Scully was slipping the pajama top off and testing the water. He took a moment to admire her body, again. Her perfect little soft ass had a large bruise on the right cheek. He reached out and touched it lightly. "Did I do that?" he asked. She craned her head around to see. "No, after I was shot I landed on my butt." She traced her fingers up his long arm. "Don't listen to Skinner." "Maybe he has a point?" "Maybe you want to find a way out?" His eyes shot up to meet her solemn blue depths. She covered his heart with her hand as though to hold it in his chest. I knew what he was thinking. He was afraid. Afraid of the future, afraid of the unknown, afraid of losing her... She nodded slowly and although he hadn't spoken out loud, she'd heard him anyway. "We've faced a lot of scary things together, I've been so scared sometimes I thought I would die of fright. But I think now, now we can help each other face that fear, ok?" He laid his forehead against hers. A tear dripped off the end of his nose and this time she didn't kiss it away. She went on, "I think falling in love is the easy part. Making it work is the hard part." She rubbed the place over his heart. "I want to believe..." she gave a small smile, "...I want to believe in the power of our love." I knew she was waiting but had too much pride to ask him. "I believe," he whispered in her ear. Her smile became blinding. "Good, now let's see what kind of a handmaiden you are in the shower." She pulled the glass door open and stepped in. We watched her twist and flow under the water. She smiled to him again, reaching her hand out of the shower doorway. He joined her under the spray. "I believe..." he whispered in her ear again. I had to hurry. Blatt and the cameramen would be here any minute. I quickly popped the videotapes out of the decks and slipped them in a duffel bag I'd brought. The sound tapes followed. I adjusted the equipment slightly so that when they drove up to join me in the van, bringing coffee and donuts, the reception was bad enough I could claim I had seen nothing all night long. Blatt gave me a searching look and let his eyes rest on the fabric of my rumbled lap, but said nothing more. Blatt had another plan that unfortunately involved staying in the van. Now at least the rains had returned and it was cool. Blatt was asleep beside me and our cameramen were in the back playing cards. All the other press was down at Agent Scully's apartment building hovered around the front and back doors. Amateurs. Blatt had suggested and I had agreed that well-trained FBI agents would be able to escape the building undetected. We were down the street in front of Scully's neighborhood coffeehouse, the logical place for anyone to go on a rainy afternoon. At first I didn't even recognize them. The man was just another tall dark-haired man. I didn't think Agent Mulder started to be eye-catching until you got up close. And the woman...she just didn't look like the Agent Scully I had seen so far. At the bottom of her deep green thick polar fleece pullover she had on tight spandex running pants, and her muscles rippling with the supple strength of a cat. She bounced up on the toes of her thick-soled running shoes like a perky aerobics instructor. She wasn't a beaten down victim of a madman. She wasn't the worn and frail woman checking out of the hospital. She wasn't the frantic hellcat in flannel pajamas. She was what she always had been, a strong young woman full of life. Her head was a flashing vortex of light and color. Her hair had a life of its own, red strands whirling and flying around her lively face. Pearl toned skin and flashing eyes caught the morning light and reflected back gold. Her coral lips kept in constant motion, smiling, laughing reaching up to kiss him...I guess I had to admit to myself I was in love. I wasn't too concerned. I fall in love about four times a week, but still... They were approaching the coffeehouse on the other side of the street. I tried to slide down behind the wheel to be less conspicuous, but there was nothing I could do about the snoring bulk beside me. For some reason I didn't wake him or alert Hal and Blatt's guy in the back of the van. They came together before joining the crowd in the coffeehouse, touching each other as light as butterflies. Their eyes couldn't seem to meet for longer than a few seconds and then would flutter away like sparrows. I realized the jaundiced press, me included, had been wrong all along and the agents had not been lying. All the odd pieces fit together in my addled brain. They had not been lovers before yesterday. I could see it now in their behavior. It was all so new to them. My hand reached out slowly towards Blatt. I watched it, detached and impartial. Then my hand retracted and fell on the ignition key. It turned the key and started the engine. I pulled the van away and began driving away from the couple, increasing my speed with every passing block. Hal stuck his head through the opening to the back. "Raaker, Blatt," Blatt woke with a snort, blinked his piggy little eyes, "What's going on?" Blatt joined the questioning, "What ya doing...where're we goin'?" I didn't look at either of them, but eased up on the gas pedal. I mustn't give away my distress. "Nothing...we're going back to the news station. The story's over." ---------END (07/07)------- Thanks to everyone who hung in with this newbie's first work and made it all the way through. Any constructive criticism or constructive praise for that matter is welcomed at bugs1231@my- dejanews.com The only thing I don't need to hear is: This is unrealistic! Uh, I'm putting the fiction in fanfic, baby!