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Title: This

Author: Tabula Rasa

Feedback: Go ahead and yell: tabulaxrasa@yahoo.com

Archive: Why not.

Rating: Frisky

Category: V, MSR

Summary: The usual stuff that happens against filing cabinets.  But only half way.

NOTES: Other people said I could post it, so I will.  It is too finished.  It happens...whenever you want it to happen.  Maybe during FTF.  Maybe during Season 7.  Maybe in an upcoming Season 8 ep (although that will be physically difficult).


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She stacked the files on top of the cabinet.  Scully turned around, and suddenly he was there.  He stood very close to her, and placed his hands on the filing cabinets on either side of her, effectively trapping her between him and the cabinet, between his arms.

 

The alarm bells went off in her head, her heart started pounding and it was difficult to breath.  She was a little afraid, and more than a little aroused.  His eyes were very dark when she looked into them, and Scully quickly looked away, feeling herself trembling.

 

"What the hell..." she started to think, but then he is talking, except talking is an understatement of the worst kind, his words are pouring out, pouring over her, in a harsh whisper that quickly makes it difficult to think, and impossible to concentrate on anything else.  Or maybe it's his proximity.

"Scully, Scully, Scully, did you ever think, did you, ever wonder, about leaving, about walking away, Scully, and, Scully, and go, and go, and go someplace else, somewhere far away, far away from here, somewhere where there aren't UFOs or viruses or nose bleeds, Scully, Scully did you..."

Yes, she thinks, cringing beneath his verbal onslaught.  But not seriously.  But Mulder is very serious.

"Scully, did you ever consider, what it would be like, what would happen, if we left, if we walked away?  And, if maybe, just maybe Scully, if they understood, all of them Scully, and left us alone?  If we disappeared one day, and they let us go?  If they let us go, Scully.  Imagine, Scully.  The Bullpen gathers around their water coolers and wonders where Mr and Mrs Spooky have gone this time, what we did now.  And we don't come back? And Skinner realizes, and doesn't look for us, not really, and leaves the bullpen to speculate, and quietly, quietly, cleans out our office, cleans out this office, and locks it up?  Scully, Scully, Scully, and what if, somehow, Scully, somehow, what if Spender, what if Cancerman lets us go and doesn't look and leaves us alone, and, Scully, Scully, what if, ten years later, we're walking down the street and we pass Krycek, and there's a flash of recognition but that's all, Scully, a look and we pass each other, and that's it!  That's all Scully!"

She can almost see it happening.  She and Mulder are walking down the main street of a town or a small city, and she looks to her left and suddenly there's Krycek, and she looks right into his eyes and he looks right into hers, they don't stop walking though, and there is the flash of recognition, but no movement acknowledges it, and his eyes slide off hers and he falls behind her and they all move on.

Oh, God, she thinks.  Scully isn't sure how she feels...she can't concentrate that long.  The part of her mind that hasn't been screaming "Take me!" at Mulder since this started is now chanting "Could we?" She can't process everything...every time she starts to get somewhere, she feels Mulder's breath on her skin, and she has to start all over again.  She's burning, all over.

"Scully, Scully, Scully!  Did you ever think...maybe..." she looks up at him, finally, and he suddenly seems to calm down, or at least has finished his ranting, although he doesn't pull back at all.  He becomes even more intense, as he focuses on her eyes.  "Did you ever think" he whispers, sounding like himself again, "that there would be a time to walk away?"

Scully realizes she isn't breathing.  She takes a long, shuddering breath, but forgets to let it go.  It's perfectly clear to her that he has no intention of leaving her, or of her leaving him.  They will leave, together.  If, when.  The competitive screaming in her head silenced when his voice did.  All she can think now is Mulder Mulder Mulder, like how he kept saying her name.  It goes in time with her heartbeat, Muldermuldermuldermuldermulder...

Somehow, she realizes her lips formed his name, although she can't even remember trying to speak.  Her lips move but there is no sound.  His lips move in answer, her name, and then his mouth moves, falling down on hers as inevitably and naturally as the sea wearing away at a cliff.

She presses her mouth hard against his, and then her mouth is open, but she can't remember when or why or how, and his tongue is inside and her mouth has never been so sensitive and alive, and it knocks her off her feet.  Her legs underneath her vanish and she grabs his shirt, in front of his shoulders, and trusts that he will keep her up.

He does, pressing her harder against the filing cabinet.  She grinds against him, mouth and body, her knuckles white from clutching his shirt so hard.

Yes, yes, yes, yes she thinks as he ravages her mouth.  She forces one hand to unclench and wraps it tightly around his neck, and the other follows, and she smashes his face down on hers as hard as she can, because she wants all of him in her mouth at once.  His hands long ago left the cabinet, and are all over her now, pressing her to him, even as he's pressing her into the file cabinet. Where ever his hands are on her, it burns and aches, and where his hands are not just aches.  She can't breath, but that doesn't matter, because kissing Mulder is much better than breathing.  Her head is swimming, and her brain has gone into shock, but the thought floats in from somewhere: "Oh, so this is what this is like."   This, she thinks.  Thisthisthisthisthis.

And then his mouth is gone and she groans and collapses against him, and he collapses against her, and the damn cabinet.  She presses her face into his neck, so that when she breathes, it's him she breathes in.  Her arms loosen and slip down to rest on his chest.  Mulder has buried his face in her hair and his arms are wrapped around her waist, and they are leaning on them.  It can't possibly be comfortable, she decides, but she doesn't have the energy to move.

It is nice to just breath.  They are completely still, except for the rise and fall of their chests as they inhale and exhale.  One of his hands comes up to wrap itself across the back of her neck.  It is warm and comfortable.  She loves him so much she doesn't think she can stand it.  Shivers run up and down her body.  Groggily, she lifts her head and whispers "Mulder.  We...should leave.  Now."

He moves suddenly, pulling her with him, and they practically run.


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Is too the end.