A Simple Charm

by philiater

Title: A Simple Charm
Author: Philiater
Category: Post Theef, M and S first time. Rating: R for sexual situations
Disclaimer: Not mine. They belong to CC and 1013 Beta Thanks: To Sallie
Written for Sallie's first time, post Theef challenge on BtS. She is one of the dearest people I have met, online or off.

The thief gone with so much, and so much to find the thief; and no satisfaction, no revenge: nor no ill luck stirring but what lights on my shoulders; no sighs but of my breathing; no tears but of my shedding.
-----The Merchant of Venice, Act III, Scene I, line 30

He was surprised when she showed up at his door. Her knock interrupted an Ed Wood marathon he was watching on TV with one eye closed. Canned explosions and corny music serenaded him as he opened the door.

"Scully," he said, a little startled.

She was standing on the other side dressed in black; black coat, black pants, black leather gloves clutching a black umbrella. Only her hair stood out in the dim hallway, a familiar beacon in the cold light.


He thought she seemed embarrassed to be there and watched her eyes dart past him to the living room.

"Watching monster movies?" she asked with a twitch of her lips.

"Um, sort of. Plan Nine from Outer Space... I think," he said stepping aside to let her pass.

She brushed coolly by him and stood in the middle of the living room looking around. An air of unease had settled about her shoulders as he watched her from behind. Something was eating at his partner, and he wasn't sure what it was.

Only a few hours ago he'd left her at the Hoover still pondering the magic Oral Peattie had conjured upon his victims. She'd been a little withdrawn on the flight home, but not anxious or jittery. This Scully was both.

"Take your coat?"

"What?" she asked turning around.

"Are you staying, or is this a drive-by visit?"


She shrugged out of her coat and he was relieved to see a soft blue sweater instead of more black. When she wore that color it was generally to signal she was in a fighting mood. Power suit indeed.

On the other hand, he was in a t-shirt, jeans and was bare foot, more than a little casual against her somber attire.

He hung the coat and umbrella on the coat stand, covering the #12 pool ball next to his Yankees ball cap.

"Beer?" he asked, indicating the one warming on his coffee table next to a pizza delivery box, the paltry remains of a private celebration on finishing the case.

She seemed to ponder the question a little longer than necessary. "Yes. Thanks."

As he walked into the kitchen, he heard her sit down on the sofa and the cushions squeak in protest as she shifted to make herself more comfortable. Scully was in his living room, unannounced, with no current case to blame it on.

He retrieved a bottle and shut the door quickly. Brown beer bottles and ketchup were about the only things he kept in the fridge anymore. He had to keep them on separate shelves in case he grabbed the wrong one. A mouth full of tomatoey condiment on a bleary night had at least taught him that.

She was staring at the coffee table when he came back out. He turned the TV off and handed her the beer. Sitting down next to her, he decided he had two choices. He could make small talk until she told him why she was there, or he could come right out and ask her.

"What's on your mind Scully?"

She was studying her hands when she answered. "I shot a man Mulder."

"You've shot men before. In fact a lot of men," he said with a lightness he didn't feel. Where was this coming from?

He watched her play with the beer bottle, rolling it back and forth between her palms in absent concentration.

"Not like this one."

"What makes him so special?"

She put the bottle down and looked up at him with an expression of earnestness.

"He was charmed. That's what the proprietor in the herbal shop said. He drew his power from something that was deeply significant to him."

"Lynette, his daughter, but she's dead Scully."

"So is Samantha."

He drew back in surprise. Just a few months before, he'd had a vision of his dead sister and had said goodbye. He and Scully hadn't spoken of it again. She'd been dead all those years he'd looked for her; all those years he'd searched and come close to finding her only to be thwarted time and again. His frustration had been agonizing, made worse in the knowledge that it had all been in vain.

"I think she was your charm. Believing she was alive gave you the strength to keep going, to keep fighting for the XFiles. Now that she's gone..."

"You think the X-Files are over?"

"No, Mulder. I'm afraid you are. What's going to be your source of power now?"

"You are Scully."

She looked up at him as if the thought had briefly occurred to her, but she had dismissed it.


"You are," he said with quiet sincerity. "I thought you knew that Scully."

She said nothing for a moment, apparently mulling over what he'd said.

"How do you know?"

"What do you mean?"

"How do you know?"

He softened and smiled to ease her discomfort.

"Because I know here," he said, touching her forehead. "And here." He moved his hand down to her heart.

They'd come too far together for coy expressions or evasive terms. Simple words and emotions were all that she needed from him now. And plain truth.

A sweet smile broke across her face and she covered his hand with her own. He watched as the tension drained from her body and felt her heart beat slow under his hand. That was all she needed to hear, apparently. He thought he should have told her sooner.

Several seconds passed while they allowed the emotion between them to solidify. Moments of unhurried closeness had always been at the heart of their relationship.

As he looked at their hands he was struck with an urge to drop his hand lower. He realized that it would be all too easy to allow his gesture of openness to become something else. Shifting down just a few inches would completely change his intent.

Under his fingers, he felt Scully's heart beat speed up again. Glancing up, he could see she may have had the same idea. Her eyes had widened and she was looking at him with an inquisitive expression.

To his surprise, instead of removing the offending hand, she brought it down around the curve of her breast. Soft warmth enveloped his palm, making his own heart feel like a giant fist was squeezing it.

"Scully..." he said as a warning, a plea.

"Mulder, it's okay."

Uncertainty still clouded his thoughts. Going further would change them, would change the delicate balance between them. Could she want him as much as he wanted her now?

His answer was a hardening of her nipple against his palm. It was all the permission he needed and leaned forward to kiss her. He was loath to leave the softness of her breast, but he couldn't hold her properly without putting his arms around her.

When his lips touched hers, he was met with more softness, and groaned when she opened her mouth to allow his tongue entry. This was better, so much better than the kiss they'd shared on New Year's Eve.

He felt her hands slide along his back and snake underneath his t-shirt. The same small hands that had manipulated the hard glass of a bottle now made similar motions as they caressed his skin. Unconsciously he pushed her back until she was lying down and he pressed himself into her supple body.

With a moan, she pulled her legs up, and tried to situate herself under him. A few awkward jostles and she was under him, wrapping her legs around his torso. With a sigh, he settled down into her, reveling in the press of her body against his.

A dozen thoughts ran through his mind as he began to kiss her again. He wanted to slow things down; he wanted to touch her everywhere at once; he wanted... "Wait."

"What?" he asked, pulling back and feeling desperate. She wouldn't stop him now would she?

"Not on the couch."

"Oh." No. She wasn't stopping him.

"Come on."

She wiggled to get out from under him, grinding against his erection in the process. She stood, tugged on his arm, and led him by the hand into the bedroom. He followed blindly behind her, but she stopped short at the entrance.

"No waterbed?"

"It sprung a leak, remember?" he said sheepishly. "The landlord made me get rid of it. And I thought it was time for a real bed anyway."

She smiled and kissed him again. "Good decision."

The comment made him smile. Scully's practical honesty shone through even when it was applied to his choice of bed. It made him inordinately happy to have pleased her.

They kissed all the way across the room to the bed, removing clothing and letting it fall away with their inhibition. Each item removed revealed more skin to be touched, stroked and kissed.

Mulder was delighted to find Scully wearing lacy underwear. In the semi darkness of the room, he couldn't quite make out the color, but he thought they were baby pink. He had an obsession with baby pink. When he hesitated over the matter for too long, she shifted out of his arms.

"What is it?"


"It's not 'nothing,' Mulder. You're staring at my panties."

"It's just--are they pink?" he asked guiltily.

This seemed to surprise her a little. "Yes. Why?"

"I like pink. I'm glad you're wearing pink."

Before she could answer, he leaned in to kiss her and pulled them down her legs. She stepped out them with a dainty hop and then attacked his boxers. When she tugged them down, his erection sprung free; large and very close to her belly.

There's certainly no hiding that, he thought. Here was the physical manifestation of his want, his desire. In front of Scully it made him feel curiously vulnerable.

To her credit, she said nothing at all, but took him into her hand and stroked him slowly, using just the right pressure. He moaned in pleasure and tried to kiss her, but the height difference made it impossible.

Before he could embarrass himself, he turned her around and gently laid her on the bed.

Unashamed, she let him look at her and made no attempt to cover herself, or hide from his probing gaze.

"Come here," she beckoned, holding her arms out to him.

Moving carefully, he covered her body with his and entered her slowly. Tight pleasure coursed through him from just this simple act of intimacy. He found himself panting into her shoulder, struggling to maintain control.

"What is it?"

"I want--I want this to be good."

"It is."

Pulling back, he looked into her eyes to find the truth. He was met with certainty, desire, and a sweetness he took for love.

Slowly he began to rock into her and she met him with her hips. Within a few thrusts he was close to losing control.

To his astonishment, Scully was already tightening around him, and she went over the edge calling his name. He followed immediately after, telling her that he loved her over and over.

Afterwards he held her tucked into his side, and she draped an arm over his chest with a soft groan. A peaceful lassitude gripped them both, making him feel almost serene for the first time in ages.

"You know a charm is a type of quark," he said to her hair.

"What?" she mumbled into his shoulder.

"A charm is a type of quark. You know the building blocks of atoms."

Scully lifted her head and gave him a disparaging look. "Mulder you want to talk about physics now?"

"You're the one who was fascinated by charms."

"That was before..."

"We broke in the new bed?"


"Okay, Okay."

"Now I don't care," she said dropping her head back down.

He chuckled and decided to let it drop. Seconds ticked by and he was almost asleep when she asked, "They come in pairs don't they?"


"No, charms. Up, down, top, bottom..."

"My kind of particles."

"Mine too," she said, snuggling in closer.

"You really surprised me tonight, Scully."

"I'll always keep you guessing Mulder," she murmured, an echo of what she'd said to him in California.

He listened as her breathing evened out and slowed until he knew she was asleep. Scully asleep next to him in bed. Amazing.

"You do keep me guessing."

Author's note: Thanks to Sallie for inspiration, Marybeth and Fro for additional input.
Challenge elements:

--Post ep, (Theef is a Sallie favorite) --M/S first-time sex
--The phrase "You do keep me guessing," (Mulder) or "I'll always keep you
guessing," (Scully). (A reference to the phrase is perfectly acceptable)
--sharing a meal/something edible
--TV (broken, working, showing a movie or not) --lacy underwear (Scully only)
--a celebration, or something celebratory

I was able to include all but two elements, which are not listed.

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to philiater