Disclaimer: I love these characters and the actors that portray them but they belong to 1013, Fox and CC. I am just borrowing them for a little while and will return them unharmed. Not a penny will I ever see from them. All the spam is real (no kidding). "Natural viagra" line borrowed from Bruce Springsteen's stage patter.
A very big thank you to Tali for the rockin' beta!
"I don't need no gun in my fist baby
All I need is your sweet kiss
To get me feelin' like a real man"
--Bruce Springsteen, "Real Man"--
It's one of those mornings when time seems to crawl. He is reviewing an old case file for lack of anything more compelling to do when the office door opens and she walks in. Greeting her with his usual "Hey, Scully," he also checks out her attire. A+ for you, Scully, he thinks. Today it's the black suit, the one with the skirt that has that nifty little slit in the back, allowing him the occasional glimpse of her lower thigh if he looks at just the right angle as she walks past. Under the suit jacket she's wearing a creamy silk blouse which shows off just a hint of her treasures underneath. She knows what he likes; since they started sleeping together, she's been treating him to some of the more alluring outfits in her wardrobe, within the limits of the FBI dress code, of course.
She replies with a "Good Morning, Mulder" and true to her morning ritual, drops her bag onto her hard-won desk and pulls out her laptop. While it boots up, beeping and whistling, she goes to get her morning coffee. As she crosses the room, he makes sure to catch that glimpse of thigh, and then gets back to studying his file.
She returns with her coffee and begins fussing with her computer. They work in companionable silence, until her sudden outburst:
"I hate this."
"Hate what, Scully?" He looks up from his file. She's biting her lip--Jesus it's the crimson-red lipstick today--and stabbing at her keyboard. Click beep click beep click beep.
"All this stupid spam. I can't find my legitimate emails among all this garbage. You would think the FBI would have a better spam blocker."
"Scully, you do realize you are talking about an employer who's got you working in the basement."
"Well, that's certainly not -my- fault," she challenges him without looking up from her computer screen. Click beep click beep.
He lets her have that one. He's too captivated by her spam-busting.
"How much spam do you have, anyway?"
"Too much. I have dozens of junk messages. This one's right up your alley, Mulder, as a matter of fact. 'My sweet teen body just needs to be manhandled,'" she recites in a saucy voice. This tone catches him off-guard. She's rarely first with an innuendo, but he likes it.
"Hey Scully, are you reading from my private email directory?"
She peers at him over her laptop screen, eyebrow raised. Now he's getting an idea--and a hard-on.
"What else is in there? Read me some more," he asks her.
"Mulder, did your cable go out over the weekend, or perhaps your VCR broke down?" she says slyly, quickly catching on.
"No, somebody had other things to do this weekend and..."
"Look, I told you, it was unavoidable, my mother asked me if I could help her..."
"Never mind. I'll read you mine if you read me yours," he taunts. Quickly clicking open his email program, he scrolls through his inbox.
"Let's see... 'Hot babes and farm animals!'"
"Mulder, that's disgusting!" she exclaims.
"Well, yeah, that is pretty awful," he admits. He deletes that one and keeps reading. "'Stretch mark cream?'"
"I'm too young for that. Ok, how about 'Men, You Wish You Had a Bigger Member?'"
"Actually, mine's quite fine, thank you. Wouldn't you agree, Scully?" he adds, smugly.
"Mulder, it's your turn," she replies, sidestepping his remark.
"The US government owes you money." Not very sexy but it's amusing so he reads it anyway, hoping he hasn't lowered the temperature level in the room, which, along with his erection, is rising rapidly.
"Now that one I agree with," she laughs. "In the meantime, since you're so underpaid, how about this one...'Viagra at Low Prices.'"
"Again, not something I need, Scully. Hmmm, here's a nautical theme for you. 'What's better than sailing and getting it in the ass?'" He can't see her reaction; she's now hiding behind her laptop. But she takes longer to answer him this time and he hears her suck in a breath.
"Um...that depends on who's doing the sailing, I suppose. Forget that, Mulder, here's the one for you: 'Want the secret of making her come?'" She coos.
That secret, Scully, I already know. His hard-on strains against his pants. He shifts in his chair so he can see her better. She's fidgeting slightly and her cheeks are flushed. Good. He gets up and moves toward her desk. The peaks of her nipples are visible thru her silk blouse. Even better. He stands behind her and leans over her shoulder.
"Read me this one, Scully," his voice curls into her ear as he points at the screen. She squirms at his warm breath against the side of her face and reads slowly, drawing out every suggestive word. He moves closer and his erection prods her shoulder. At the feel of his rigid need for her, she looks up at him, moistening her lips. With eyes wide and vivid blue, she rises from her chair. He reaches around her with his arm and, narrowly missing her computer, sweeps the other contents of her desktop to the floor. Her plastic inbox falls with a clatter, sending papers everywhere. The noise unsettles her for a moment, though she is breathing hard.
"I-I didn't lock the door, Mulder."
"We'll have to take our chances," he replies huskily. He puts his hands on her waist and lifts her onto the desk. She parts her thighs and he stands between them. He leans in and captures her mouth to his in a kiss, slipping his tongue between her crimson lips. She tastes of coffee and faintly of mint. He presses himself against her warm center and she lets out that little gasp he loves so much.
"This wasn't on my calendar for this morning, Mulder," she pants.
"It was on mine," he says. It's always on mine.
He unbuttons that lovely silk blouse and with one swift movement unhooks the bra clasp resting between her even lovelier breasts. He cups them with his large hands; she arches her back and quivers at his touch. He bends down to plant a kiss on her smooth, pale flesh. As his lips grace her breasts, her fingers slip greedily inside his own shirt and caress his chest. His hands travel under her skirt, searching for her panties so he can remove them, but he discovers that his path is blocked by her pantyhose. He finds the waistband and slides his fingers underneath, trying to pull the offending garment down. She lifts her hips to help him but it's awkward and he's rushing and pulls too hard, causing his long finger to poke all the way through the thin nylon material.
"Oh, uh, sorry." He stops pulling and then wiggles his finger through the hole, where he now can touch the smooth silk of her panties underneath. He finds that spot just below her belly and tickles her, tearing a larger hole in the fabric and making her giggle.
"Mulder, let me" she laughs, breathless, and pushes his hands away. She puts her leg up, first one, then the other, bracing each foot against his thigh for balance, and deftly unrolls the pantyhose. He tries to help her but he can't get past the smooth feel of her bare leg and his hand only gets in her way. She moves her foot from his thigh to his stiff crotch and rubs. Oh god, Scully. He gets the hint and moves his hands so she can get those damn pantyhose off. Hurry, Scully.
She has expertly removed her panties too, and now he smells the sweet wet scent of her as she unzips his pants, freeing him. He sees desire make her eyes glitter like blue diamonds as he glides between her moist thighs and enters her. She tightens her legs around him and forces him in deeper. His urgent strokes fill her and he feels the delicious friction as they rock together on the desktop. He knows how to make her soar; she writhes beneath him, nearly there "please Mulder now," he pushes once, twice, grabs her breast, and she shudders fiercely, she is coming, she is incandescent he cannot wait Scully Scully oh god with one final thrust he comes hard, his liquid release surging into her.
They collapse together on the desktop and he holds her tightly while they catch their breath.
"See, I told you. Got me some natural viagra right here," he says, kissing the top of her head. She laughs and he gets a kiss on the lips in return.
Just then, the phone rings, scaring the crap out of both of them.
"Answer it, Mulder, or else they are going to come down here looking for us," she says, recovering first and pushing him toward the clamoring object.
He reluctantly leaves her embrace and answers the phone. He listens to the voice in the handset while he watches her retrieve her panties from the floor and put them back on. She looks ruefully at her pantyhose, which now sport a gaping hole and a run clear down one leg.
"Reviewing case files and, uh, deleting some email spam, sir. Did you need to see us?" he responds to the caller. "OK, fine. Agent Scully has, um, stepped away but when she returns we'll be right up." He sets the receiver down and winks at her.
"Skinner?" she says
"Of course. Who else would have such perfect timing? Sorry I ruined those." He nods at her pantyhose.
"It's ok, Mulder. I've ruined more pairs on this job than I can count. Although I confess this is the first time I've really enjoyed it," she grins at him.
She tosses the nylons into the wastebasket and opens a desk drawer. She rummages around for a moment, and then shuts the drawer with a slam.
"Damn. I thought I had an extra pair in my desk. And thanks to Skinner, I can't get away to buy another pair until lunchtime." She buttons her blouse and rearranges her skirt, and then slips her bare feet into her high-heeled pumps. He stops rearranging his own clothing to stare at her.
"What, Mulder?" she asks, noticing his gaze.
He tears his eyes away from her legs and tries to keep a straight face. "You know, Scully, this spam control is pretty important. All that crap impedes our workflow. By the time we get back from seeing Skinner, who knows how much more spam will have accumulated? We may have to skip lunch and spend more time on this deletion project."
He braces himself for an eye roll or an exasperated reply. Instead, she approaches him, grabs his tie, and pulls it so his face is inches away from hers. Her eyes dance with blue flame.
"Next time, Mulder, we lock the door."
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