Snake Bit

by ML

Date: November 30, 2003
Title: Snake Bit
Author: ML
Feedback: welcomed and adored!
Distribution: Ephemeral, Gossamer, or if you've archived me before, yes; if you haven't, please just let me know and leave headers, email addy, etc. attached. Thanks!
Spoilers: None
Rating: NC-17
Classification: Vignette
Keywords: PWP
Summary: none
Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine. They mostly belong to the actors who portrayed them, but Chris Carter created them, and Ten Thirteen and FOX own the rights. I mean no infringement, and I'm not making any profit from them. But I am forever grateful for their existence!

Acknowledgment: to Sallie, who gave me the idea in the first place; to Char and Carol, for the once-overs!

Snake Bit
by ML

He was quite a specimen. Scully certainly had never seen anything like it. Even in the cold bright light of the morgue, she could imagine it full of life. Her reaction to it surprised her. But then, she'd always had a secret thing for tattoos.

Mulder walked in the door with two steaming cups of coffee in hand, catching Scully with the flaccid appendage still in her hand. He could think of any number of quips, ranging from an observation of her snake-handling skills to something snappy about latex. He chose to say, "You can rub it all you want, Scully, but I don't think a genie's gonna pop out."

He thought he detected a slight flush on her cheeks, but it might have been wishful thinking.

Scully turned toward Mulder, letting the limp member fall back on the dead man's thigh with a dull smack. "Mulder, take a look at this. It's fascinating."

Mulder bit the inside of his cheek so hard he almost drew blood. He controlled himself as best he could, since he didn't want to wear his coffee. "I'm not in the habit of examining other guys' packages," he said, but he leaned over anyway.

It really was a work of art, if you liked that sort of thing. The man's penis was tattooed from root to tip with an intricate design of scales in a brilliant emerald green. Just below the head, twin ruby colored eyes gleamed. Scully gently lifted it so that he could see the underside of his shaft and his balls were similarly decorated.

He let out a low whistle. "I'm afraid the first word that comes to mind is `ouch,'" he said.

Another word entirely came to mind from the sight of Scully's gentle hands and what they were doing. Scully was always very respectful of the bodies she autopsied. She was gentle and careful and precise, never forgetting that the flesh in front of her once lived and breathed as she did. The present body was no exception, but this went to a whole different level. Mulder already had trouble with his overactive imagination; he didn't need more grist for the mill.

"I've heard," Scully said thoughtfully, "that the endorphins released during the process give you a kind of high, and after the initial penetration of the needle, you don't notice the pain anymore."

<Ooh, Scully, if you only knew what you were doing to me,> he thought. He did his best to change the subject. "So was this guy a, um, performer of some kind?" He winced at his own choice of words.

Scully raised her eyebrow at Mulder. "He worked in an office. Accountancy firm, I think."

"And circus performer on the side?" He thought back to the case in Florida, the Enigma and his cohorts.

"No, no history of that kind at all. His firm didn't even handle that kind of business. They were more corporate."

Mulder looked so disappointed that she said, "Sometimes a penis is just a penis, you know."

"A Freudian would have a field day with that remark," Mulder said. "Though I think Freud was mostly crap," he added.

"So you're a Jung man?"

"Well, I like to think I'm at least young at heart," Mulder said, and grinned at Scully's expression. "No, I'm not so much a Jungian, either," he said.

"What does that leave then, Mulder?"

"I'm more of a smorgasbord kinda guy," he said. "Whatever works."

"So you're a Mulderian?" she asked, eyebrows raised, a halfsmile playing about her lips.

"Hey, if the psyche fits," he replied. "You're the one who accused me of fitting things into my own `warped cosmology,' after all."

That's not the same as a warped psychology, though."

"Po-tay-toe, po-tah-toe," he said. "Anyway, how is he an X-File, Scully?"

Scully smiled. "Isn't that usually my question? That's why I called you. I'm not sure that he is. I was called in on a consult."

"How did he die?" Mulder asked.

"Strangulation," Scully said. "See the ligature marks? They are unusual, though. Not made by a rope or wire."

"By a snake, perhaps?" Mulder asked.

Scully looked at him. "Perhaps. It was unusual enough that I thought that you might have some thoughts on it."

"Should I read something into that?" Mulder asked with a slight leer.

This time Scully really did blush. "Of course not. Though you might look into his background a little, if you're curious."

Scully's curiosity was more interesting to Mulder than the hapless victim's background, but he said, "I'll get right on it." He leaned in closer to her, checking that the tape recorder was off, and said softly in her ear, "Stop by later and I'll show you what I've got."

Scully turned and gave him her cool blue stare, but he caught the expression that showed she understood his deeper meaning. She nodded, saying nothing. Her color was still a little heightened.


Being with Scully outside their professional relationship was still mostly uncharted territory. Mulder constantly looked for clues about the inner Scully. He knew she had an unconventional streak that rivaled his own, but that she fought against it. He saw it as his job to find ways to let her explore that part of herself.

Talking about their feelings and desires was still difficult, and today's incident seemed to be a really big clue to that side of Scully. He thought about it as he went about his investigations, half-forming his own ideas as the day went on.


After Mulder left, Scully took refuge in professionalism. She continued with the autopsy, but in the back of her mind she thought about her conversation with Mulder.

Sometimes the subtext to their conversations was a bit unsettling. She'd always enjoyed trading innuendoes with Mulder, but since the change in their relationship, it had become more intense. Everything seemed to have a dual meaning. Sometimes it was fun, like having a secret language. Today was different. She felt that she'd been more unguarded than she meant to be, and she regretted calling Mulder in to view the corpse. She felt like she'd exposed a part of herself that she hadn't intended to do.

No doubt he'd bring up the subject again that night. She wasn't sure what she'd say to him. She wasn't sure what to say to herself.


Scully showed up punctually at seven, bringing hot food with her.

"How'd your investigation go?" she asked, pausing for a quick kiss as Mulder took the bags from her.

He walked into the kitchen and she followed him. "Nothing of note. He was an amateur herpetologist, had a lot of snake lore. He just carried his interest in snakes to an extreme."

"Gee, that's not like anyone I know," Scully murmured, but Mulder ignored her.

"He had a couple of pet snakes, too. They're at the pound now," Mulder continued. "Unless you'd care to adopt one?"

"No, I don't think so," Scully said.

"I hear they're pretty low-maintenance pets. They don't need much, just a good heat lamp and a live rodent now and then. It would probably keep unwelcome visitors away."

"Thanks anyway," Scully said as she dished up the food.

Mulder opened them a couple of beers. "What about the autopsy results?" he asked.

"Death by misadventure," she said. "You probably saw some evidence of it at the crime scene."

"Yeah," Mulder said. He was glad that she didn't have to say it. Not that he had a problem with it, or practiced it himself, but Clyde Bruckman's words still echoed in his head. Poor bastard.

"I guess I feel a little sorry for him," Scully said. "All that beautiful work, and to what end?"

"A lot of people view snakes with fear and suspicion," Mulder pointed out. "I'm sure he'd have wanted to get to know someone pretty well before springing that kind of surprise."

"I suppose so," Scully said. It just seems kind of sad."

"Are you disappointed with the way the case turned out?" Mulder asked carefully. "Or is there something else on your mind?"

"No, not really. I'm not sure I can explain it," she said.

Mulder waited, just watching her.

She waited him out.

"This is what I think," he said finally. "Watching you look at that guy got me thinking. I really wondered what was going on inside your head, and wondering really kinda turned me on. You had this look on your face..."

"It's silly," she said. "But seeing the way he was tattooed ...I couldn't help wondering why, and what it would be like to, um, see it under certain circumstances..." She couldn't bring herself to continue, but Mulder thought he got the picture.

"I think I'm jealous," he murmured.

"Forget about it," she said. "I told you it was silly." This wasn't a conversation she'd wanted to have, though Mulder's little revelation was interesting.

Mulder didn't say any more, just went about setting the table. They talked about other cases and argued the merits of some Mulder wanted to investigate. Neither brought up the snake man again.

After dinner Scully curled up on the couch next to Mulder and they half watched a movie on TCM. It was more of an excuse to make out than anything. Mulder was an amazing kisser, and he seemed content to do just that for hours.

As the movie ended, she was reclined across Mulder's lap. He was conducting a leisurely investigation of her tonsils, one warm hand massaging her breasts under her sweater. "You gonna spend the night?" he asked when he came up for air.

"Mmm," she said, warm and drowsy and content to stay right there, except for the fact that she now wanted more than just Mulder's kisses. Judging by the hardness poking into her side, he was ready to move on, too.

"Come on," he said, pulling her to her feet. "You don't like sleeping on the couch, remember?"

She let him guide her into the bedroom, his hands circling her waist as she walked ahead of him. He helped her undress, and rummaged around for a tee shirt for her while she sat on the edge of the bed, yawning.

He turned with a tee shirt in his hands. "Scully, are you still awake?"

She nodded.

"Awake enough to do something for me?" In the shadowy light of his bedroom, she couldn't see the expression in his eyes. He could just as easily be asking if she was ready to fly somewhere tonight as to make a more personal request.

Whatever it was, it was bound to be exciting. She felt a burst of adrenaline as she nodded again.

"Okay, I'll be back in a minute. Don't put on the shirt yet, just lie back against the pillows. Can you do that without nodding off on me?"

Scully snorted. "You gonna do something to keep me up?" she challenged.

Mulder smiled, and said, "I want you to keep your eyes closed. I want you to use your imagination. I'm not gonna tell you what's going on, you have to figure it out, okay?"

"Okay," she agreed with some trepidation.

She heard Mulder's soft footfalls leaving the room.

It was very difficult to lie still with her eyes shut. It wasn't a matter of trust. She was simply curious to know what Mulder was up to. It was quiet in the room. All she could hear was her own breathing and her pulse pounding in her ears. She felt air currents across her skin when the heater came on with a soft whoosh. She consciously tried to relax, slowing her breathing and loosening her shoulder and arm muscles, laying her fingers flat against the bedsheet. She could feel, however, the tightening of her nipples, anticipating Mulder's touch. They tingled, tempting her to reach up and touch them herself to help relieve her tension.

She thought of Mulder's reaction, should he walk in and see her touching herself. The tingling sensation increased, now centering much lower. She could feel the changes in her body, the slickening and engorgement of her own tissues in preparation for Mulder.

I'm a science geek, she thought wildly. Cataloguing my physiological reactions while my lover drives me out of my mind with lust. And he hasn't even touched me.

Suddenly Mulder's voice said, "What are you thinking about, Scully?"

"You," she said. "Where are you?"

"Right here. Keep your eyes closed, okay?"

She nodded, squeezing them tighter. She felt Mulder's weight settle on the mattress next to her. She could sense the heat radiating off his naked body, close but not quite touching her. She heard his breathing, deep and rapid.

Then she felt a touch. Just along the outside of her upper thigh, the hot, smooth feel of his penis brushing against her skin. He moved it along her skin slowly, like -- like a snake, slithering along her thigh.

It wasn't a snake, was it?

"Lie still, Scully," Mulder said. She hadn't realized she'd moved. It couldn't be a snake, could it? This was not what she knew a snake would feel like. A snake's skin might be slick, but not as warm as this. But the touch was dry, like a snake, and there was a texture not like she'd expect from Mulder's skin. It should have a slightly damp, humid feel to it, not...scaly...

She wasn't afraid. Of course not, this was Mulder. She had nothing to fear. She let her imagination loose, letting herself enjoy the sensuous feel against her skin.

Finished with one leg, he moved to her other side. He slithered down the outside of her thigh and then a short way up the inside, stopping far short of where she wanted him to. Then she felt him straddle her, and jerked in shock and arousal when she felt it circle her nipples, one after the other. He ran it between her breasts and up to her clavicles and along the base of her throat.

Would he complete the journey upward? Her lips parted softly in invitation, sighing his name. She heard Mulder catch his breath, and he was very still for a moment. She could feel the throb of his member against her neck as he hesitated.

He brushed her cheek with it, just briefly. Then she felt him move downward, circling her nipples once again before continuing the journey down her abdomen to rest just below her belly button.

She was trembling by the time he got there, her body practically levitating from the strain of keeping still.

"You can open your eyes now," he said. She opened them to the sight of Mulder, kneeling between her legs, holding his erect cock in his hand. It was covered in a sheath printed to look like a snake, right down to the ruby colored eyes. The condom actually had a scaly texture embossed into the latex.

Her eyes and mouth went round with shock. "Where did you get that?"

"I was born with it, Scully," Mulder grinned. "Oh, you mean the condom? It's amazing what you can find at the local bookstore."

"In the snake section, I presume?" Scully asked.

"Good one, Scully," he said. "So tell me, was it good for you?"

She nodded, biting her lip to keep from giggling hysterically. Mulder might take it the wrong way. "But you're not done yet, are you?" she asked a trifle plaintively.

He made a show of looking down at his erect penis. "I sure hope not. How `bout you?"

Scully just smiled and scooted up, raising her legs to bracket Mulder's hips.

He leaned forward, guiding himself closer, first rubbing along the slickness of her folds until he was glistening. He pushed forward slowly, giving Scully a full view of the snake as it burrowed into her.

The visual, combined with the exquisite sensation of Mulder entering her was almost more than she could bear. He was already a snug fit, but the textured skin of the condom made it feel even tighter. She could see from Mulder's expression that he could feel the difference, too.

"Oh Scully," he groaned into her neck, slowly pulling out and plunging down.

Now that she was free to touch him, she gripped him tightly, pulling him against her, then running her hands up and down his back, enjoying the contraction of his muscles as he filled her over and over again. This was definitely Mulder, his surprisingly soft flesh, warm and moist and starting to slick with sweat and other fluids. This was his face, rubbing against the sensitive skin of her face and neck, a little beard burn making it all the more real.

All too soon she felt herself begin to reach her peak. She held Mulder more tightly, trying to grip him with her internal muscles too, trying to make him lose control before she did. It was a game she seldom won, but she never got tired of playing it.

She felt herself go over the edge before him, sensing rather than hearing Mulder's encouragement and his increase of speed. She felt him jerk into her harder, harder, until he too collapsed from an excess of ecstasy.


"You know, if I were a Freudian, I'd be having a field day with this whole thing," Scully said drowsily, her fingers playing with Mulder's chest hair.

"I suppose so," Mulder replied. "But you're not, right?"

"No, I'm not," she said. "Sometimes sex play is just sex play."

"Ooh, I like that philosophy," he said. "I think that makes you a Mulderian."

"I can live with that," said Scully.

"Lucky for me," Mulder said, kissing the top of her head.

"Lucky for both of us, I'd say," she said, burrowing closer. "So how about you? Anything going on in that head of yours I should know about?"

Mulder just smiled down at her.

"Whatever it is, bring it on," she said into his shoulder before relaxing into sleep.

Above her head, Mulder smiled to himself. He had a few ideas.



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