Title: Elevator resolution.
Rating: NC-17, I'd be afraid if it wasn't Archive: I'd be honoured, just keep my name on it. Disclaimer: Not mine, just thought it was about time. Spoilers: None really.
Summary: Just sex. Angry sex.
Author's Note: My name is Kim and I'm a ficaholic. Feedback will be much appreciated. Kimogen5@hotmail.com
Scully Scully was not a woman prone to drinking. In fact, the only reason she was now perched on a stool too high for her to reach the floor, sipping on her third margarita, was a blazing row with her partner. The whole week had been harrowing. A grizzly murder and the opportunity to get up close and personal with the killer had left her feeling drained and on edge when she had returned to the hotel. Mulder's accusing silence throughout the car journey hadn't helped her mood and she had been only too willing to pick a fight with him. Scully always preferred to shout at him than actually share her feelings. It was easy to blame a man so keen to accept guilt. Leaving the car, sickness had settled in her stomach. It was a good thing that he had locked himself in his room for the evening. She was tempted to take her gun to him. The row had been possibly their most severe to date. They'd both said things they would regret in the morning. She shrugged and added the fourth margarita she was ordering to her list of things to regret the following day.
Scully was glad of the crowd that filled the bar. The noisy atmosphere was helping to drown out the sound of her own depressive thoughts. The trio of attentive men around her was also doing something for her ego. She knew she was acting ridiculously out of character, but she didn't care. She needed to shake off the prim and proper Special Agent persona for a few hours. Surely she was entitled to that much. Scully leaned forward for a light, wondering what Mulder would think of her if he could see her now. She inhaled the smoke, feeling the burn and fighting the urge to cough. She knew she was being childish, but she was as unable to explain herself as she was to stop.
The salt around the rim of the margarita glass made her cringe as she realised that she'd forgotten to order it without. She cursed quietly and wiped at her lips with a napkin, repeating the motion on the glass, being careful not to let any of the offending matter fall into the liquid. Scully couldn't help but wonder if Mulder had ever rowed with Diana Fowley the way they had fought earlier. She wondered if he had ever called Diana a bitch. At that thought, she wasn't sure that the bitter taste in her mouth was entirely from the salt.
Scully looked up from her drink, laughing too loudly at a joke that wasn't really funny. She felt oddly outside of herself as she watched an attractive redhead giggling with three men in the mirror behind the bar, split between two shelves. She hated the superficial image she saw reflected back to her, knowing it to be false, an illusion created to ease the tension for a few petty hours.
A familiar figure hovered behind her and she could see that he was trying to make up his mind as to whether or not he should make his presence known. Typical. Cowardly bastard.
Mulder stood where he was, four steps behind the little crowd of businessmen admirers that Scully seemed to have acquired. A deep breath calmed him enough to suppress the urge to fire a warning shot into the air. He stood a moment too long and was caught. His heart sank once again as he realised he had once again relinquished what little control he may have gained over the situation.
"Fuck off, Mulder"
She didn't even turn around.
The men she was with turned to see who she was speaking to. They stared at the lanky form that had appeared behind them, wondering who he was. Scully saw Mulder's eyes widen in surprise at being caught. She hadn't even turned around. He wasn't used to hearing such language from his partner. Scully was glad she could still shock him. She wanted to make him disgusted at her, the way she was disgusted at him. Serve him right. Son of a bitch.
He stood there for a moment, staring down at the floor before he realised that she was watching him in the mirror. She frowned at his stupidity. He'd been drinking too. Fox Mulder didn't drink often, and when he did, he was one stupid fucker. Not that he wasn't most of the time. God she hated him tonight. Hated him because he was so fucking brilliant, yet couldn't see what was right in front of his eyes. Hated him for his lack of social intelligence. He had been the FBI's Golden Boy such a short time ago. Why couldn't that fantastic brain figure out what was placed so obviously before him, day after day. If thigh-high stockings, barely concealed beneath her beautifully tailored business suit didn't tell him what was going on, what would?
Scully watched as Mulder approached her from behind. She grimaced as his hand rested upon her shoulder. He was shaking.
"Dana..." Was all his voice managed before she shot him down.
"Scully." She reminded him, "Since when do you call me Dana?"
Her voice was harsh, harsher than she had intended. The wounded look she hated replaced the apologetic one she resented so much. He shrank away from her. Scully wondered how such a vast man could appear so tiny.
Mulder swayed between the urge to run away and the anger that surged up from a place he hadn't been aware of. Either way, he felt sick from the mini-bar scotch and the hatred in his partner's eyes made his stomach reject the punishing liquor. He swallowed hard as acid burned along his throat and made his eyes water. Then he caught the smug grin on the faces of the men before him. She was not about to make a fool of him.
Suddenly his expression changed, becoming angry. He shot a look at the three men who hovered at his partner's side, causing them to scatter like startled birds. Scully shot Mulder a look of her own.
"What the hell is going on here anyway?" Mulder sneered and the implication of his words was obvious. His anger made him suddenly brave. He was indignant, insulting even. Demanding. Scully slid off her stool, dropping forty bucks on the bar to pay for her drinks and stalked away. Mulder followed, fuming now.
Scully managed to evade him all the way to the elevator. She slipped inside, thankful that it was empty. The doors began to close, offering twin reflections of herself, slowly sliding together to merge in the middle. She smoothed down her hair and breathed deeply to calm herself. She hated that Mulder could cause her to feel like this. Only he could make her lose her cool.
Just as the doors slid shut, a hand jammed between them, forcing them apart. Mulder stood framed in the space they left. Scully stared at him, her expression warning, daring him to step inside. Mulder moved forward, ready to fight her, knowing that he was in for round two of their earlier argument and punched the top floor button. They ascended in silence, their joint reflections duelling, neither blinking nor looking away. Finally, Mulder spoke.
"I can't believe that you said those things to me. After all we've been through." His tone was more than accusing. Scully realised then that he was as hurt as she was. Seeing this didn't stop her own rage welling up again.
"Well, if I'm such a BITCH, what did you expect?" She spat out the word, hating the way it sounded, remembering the tightening in her stomach when he had yelled it at her only an hour ago. Mulder cringed.
"Well maybe if you didn't shut me out all the time..."
"Maybe I wouldn't, if you weren't so ready to replace me!" She looked away then, unable to meet his eye. Mulder was confused, his silence told her as much. He was frowning when she finally dragged her eyes upwards. "Diana." She whispered the name, feeling its poison eating away at her. She had hated the woman on sight, even before the jealousy and hurt had begun to gnaw away at her insides. Just saying her name made Scully think of the betrayal she felt every time Mulder chose to blindly trust Diana.
Mulder shook his head slowly, never understanding why his partner couldn't accept Diana. It made him so angry that Scully locked away her own heart, never allowing herself to love him, yet denied him to anyone else with her jealousy. It made him boil inside to think about her professional demeanour, always masking the woman inside. He wanted to slap her, to shake her and make her realise. She refused to see what was between them, too frightened to ever admit it, even to herself.
Scully stood opposite him, watching him silently seethe and wondering when exactly the explosion was going to come. She was secretly thrilled by his anger, enjoying that she could evoke such a reaction. Mulder's unpredictability made her heart pound in her chest as she watched his fists clench and unclench and the muscle in his jaw tighten. She knew from previous experience that he was going to go mad. She wanted to fight with him, wanted to cause a scene in the hotel corridor. She wanted to hurt him the way he had hurt her. She wanted him to have her transferred off of the X-Files, away from him. At least then she wouldn't have to deal with his torture day in, day out.
Mulder saw the flush break out across her throat, framed by the crisp whiteness of her shirt. He made a decision in that instant. He was going to force her to admit to it, whether or not she liked it.
She was watching him, watching her. Wondering what he was going to do. What he did do surprised her. He turned his back on her, eyes down to the ground.
"Whatever." He muttered the word, knowing that it would incense her.
"Mulder!" Scully's voice reached him, her usual soothing alto suddenly high-pitched and furious. He took her anger as his cue and spun around, eyes blazing, his own emotion renewed. She gasped, her mouth falling open as he pushed her back against the wall. Her body bumped against the cool surface and he pressed her with his chest, pinning her. Scully's hands flew up to battle with him, trying to shove him away. He was too strong.
"Get off of me, you bastard!" She shrieked, her voice coming out in a squeak that she didn't recognise. He sneered, clamping a hand over her mouth. With the other hand, he reached out and jammed the lift between floors. She struggled again but he was much too strong. "Tell me that you don't want this." He grimaced as Scully raked long fingernails across his skin. He pinned her arms in response. He was pressing her bodily into the glass, squeezing the air out of her lungs. Scully stilled beneath him at his words, her breath coming in short pants.
"Fuck you." She turned her face away, closing her eyes, her body rigid against him.
"I'd rather fuck you." Mulder took her face in his hand and forced it towards him. Her eyes opened, staring at him with such venom he was unsure for a moment. Maybe he had misjudged her. But then he felt the shiver that ran through her body and he knew she wanted it as badly as he did. Things could just never be simple between them. Six years of struggling, it was only fitting that it should all end with a fight. He covered her mouth with his, forcing her head still with his hand, the other pinning her arms.
Scully gasped at the heat of his lips, pressed firmly onto hers. She was utterly helpless, trapped as she was, beneath his hulking muscular form. But he was right, she did need this as badly as he did. She softened beneath him, accepting what had become the inevitable.
Mulder realised that his partner had become lax beneath him. He relinquished his grip slightly, still keeping her pressed firmly under him, but allowing her room to breath. He pushed his tongue into her mouth, finding that she was kissing him back. Mulder slid a hand between them, flicking the catch on her jacket open and sliding a hand inside. He could feel her hot skin through the cotton of her shirt and he eagerly sought out her breasts.
Scully moaned into his mouth as his hands smoothed over her rib-cage then down to grope her ass. Her jacket slipped to the ground, unnoticed whilst her own hands moved up the muscular torso before her, finally reaching the hair at the back of his head and entwining her fingers there. She seemed to be holding on for support as Mulder's hands slid her skirt upwards, exposing the lace tops of her hold-ups. He pulled away momentarily, looking down at what his hands had just uncovered. Scully met his amused look with a raised eyebrow before pulling his mouth back down to hers. She kissed him hungrily, as though she had to make up for the momentary break in contact. Mulder's hands slid further down, pulling her satin underwear down and over her stockings.
Whilst his hands were taking liberties beneath her wrinkled skirt, Scully had relieved her partner of his belt. It dropped to the floor with a metallic clank. Scully gave a small smile against his mouth before she let out a gasp, her legs buckling slightly beneath his touch. Mulder held her up with his free hand, the other too busy to be disturbed.
"Mmm...Mul...Mulder!" Scully stuttered out with effort. His name blended into the moans that spilled constantly from her throat as her knees began to collapse and her head tipped back. It was all so fast, a matter of minutes and she was going to come in his hands.
"Yeah?" Mulder teased, knowing that she would never be able to form a coherent answer.
"Fuck...Fuck...Oh...Fuck me...Fuck me!" The words finally spilled out and she grasped his shoulders. She groaned with dismay as his hands stilled but he quickly unfastened his trousers. Mulder had never been too sure about the benefits of vertical sex, but was willing to try anything. Bending his knees, he positioned himself and slid inside her body, lifting her up as he did. Instinctively, her legs came up around his hips and Mulder braced them both against the wall. Scully wiggled impatiently, on the verge of orgasm simply from his entry. She was tight around him and Mulder was aware of the fact that the whole sordid affair would be over almost as soon as it started if they weren't careful.
Using the wall as leverage, Mulder began to lift Scully away from his body, her weight bringing her back down hard. They cried out in unison at the bliss. Four, five, six more thrusts and Scully was moaning his name again. Two more and he was coming inside her, barely able to stand, prompting yet another shudder from her as she groaned into his open mouth. Wiping damp hair back from her forehead, Mulder allowed her to slide down his body.
Once he was sure she was on her feet, Mulder stepped away and refastened his trousers. There was a long smear on the glass mirrors. Just as his zipper moved into place, the elevator started with a jolt. Scully opened her eyes, startled by the motion. Mulder was grinning widely.
"I haven't forgiven you, you know." She told him bluntly. She brushed her hair away from her face.
"Bitch." He quirked an eyebrow, knowing that she couldn't stay mad at him for long. Not after an orgasm like that.
"Fuck you, Mulder." He leaned in to kiss her.
"No, really, Fuck you."
If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to Kimogen
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