Realization Dance, The

by Char Chaffin

By Char Chaffin
MSR, Rated R/NC-17
No spoilers, takes place mid-partnership Disclaimer: Clones on Loan

With thanks: to Shelba for quick and decisive beta, and to Tess, Carol, Avalon, Robin, Nancy, Veve, Toate, Mimic, Toniann, Sallie, Lidia, Donna, Becky, Gwen and Rae-Baby, for their willingness to read, to offer ideas and thoughts - and most of all, support. Ladies, I am indebted to you all!

Summary: 'True love can strike when you're not looking; can sizzle through you, implode your heart, set your teeth on edge and your hair on end, fry your brain, boil your blood...'

"The Realization Dance"

It's the smile that knocks him sideways, makes his eyes focus, perhaps really focus, on her. Her smile. Nothing held back. A fullblown, teeth-exposing, 'damn-you're-gorgeous' smile, and aimed straight at him. When she adds the corresponding laugh - not a chuckle, but a laugh - he's speechless.

Why has he never truly seen her, before now?

They've been each other's best friend, confidante, protector - for several years. They've gone through more together than any other two people in the history of man should have to endure. There is genuine love between them; dedication, loyalty. Abounding trust. They are strong, for each other. Strong, because of one another... yet one smile weakens him - one laugh tilts his world.

All he did was tell her a joke, and a bad one, at that. Ten seconds after the telling of it and five seconds after witnessing her reaction to it, Mulder can't even remember the punch line. It drained out of his cranium the moment she showed him a side of herself that he knows he has never seen. Not like this.

Just a night in the middle of the week. Nothing special happening, he just felt like going over and when he called her to see what she was doing she was just as bored as he; told him to stop on by. They hadn't seen each other much during the day; each had more or less gone their separate ways for a change - but that wasn't why he went to her place. They both had nothing better to do, no laundry to catch up on or obligatory long-distance family calls to make. Neither was particularly hungry and TV didn't sound appealing at all... so they got together at her apartment and sat on the sofa a cushion-width apart, talking. Just talking... and he remembered an inane joke he'd gotten in an email and he shared it with her. Just a stupid joke that at this moment he cannot remember.

Mulder knows he's staring but he can't help it. Never in his years of knowing his partner has she looked like this. He doesn't have any idea who this woman is, because she sure isn't Dana Scully.

In the muted evening her face is luminous, flushed with pink, bright and open. Her eyes sparkle with a blue so dazzling it's almost unreal. Even her skin seems to shimmer. And in that instant he sees the beauty of her, all of it. One hundred percent of it, where in the past she has only revealed a bit here and a smidge there.

The look on his face must be something to see, because Scully's smile dims a little, and her laugh breaks off as she reaches out a hand to him and offers a concerned, "Mulder, are you all right?"

<No. I'm not all right. I may never be all right, again.> Because at the touch of her hand he realizes in one mad flash, that he wants her. Wants to kiss her smile, swallow her laugh... merge with her body and mate with her soul. He thinks he must have always wanted her, from day one. How could he not? And more than the wanting of her, he also acknowledges that for the first time in his life he's fallen, truly fallen... in love.

It's said that true love can strike when you're not looking; can sizzle through you, implode your heart, set your teeth on edge and your hair on end, fry your brain, boil your blood. In the split second it connects, love simultaneously builds you up higher than the highest mountain and levels you flat, as it knocks you sideways... and he's already been there, was there the second she smiled. Laughed.

Falling in love... he wasn't expecting it. Isn't sure what to do about it, how to tell her, show her... wonders if she'd even care to know.

She loves him; of that Mulder has no doubt. But, in love? Wanting him? All of him?


His eyes clear and refocus, and see the worry in her stare. No, not now, not worry... that's not what he wants from her. Not her concern, not her bedside manner. Not the hand to his forehead, gauging his perspiration content, the quality of unsettlement in his stomach or the possibility of incubating a cold or flu. He doesn't want her compassionate touch.

He wants her nails to curl into his skin and leave little crescentshaped moons behind. Wants her teeth on his neck, her body clamped all around him, her skin soldering itself to his. He wants to groan into her ear all of what he's feeling, as he stares at her and clenches his hands into fists to keep from grabbing her. This is what he wants.

"Mulder! You're beginning to scare me! What IS it?"

He sucks in a quick, fortifying breath. "It's... I just... you..." He's stammering, and she's looking at him as if he's lost his marbles. He never stammers. If there is one fairly consistent trait of Fox Mulder, it's that he sounds confident even when he's not. But any confidence he might have had just flew away and roosted elsewhere; he feels like a teenager again, a gangly boy with sweaty palms who wants so much to ask the prettiest girl to dance and is so afraid she'll laugh in his face.

Well, that's not strictly true... he's afraid he'll open his mouth, insert his foot and while he's mumbling through his sock she'll kick his ass out of her apartment and change her locks the next day.

Agent Mulder, Heartthrob Central.


He knows he has to say something to her. He also knows that for once in his wise-cracking life, he can't fob it off with a deflecting remark. It's too late for that. He doubts he could ever pull it off. And he doesn't want to... he wants to see that smile again, hear that laugh... so he can absorb it into himself, as he kisses those rosy lips of hers.

Taking a deep breath, Milder scoots a little closer on the sofa and takes one of her hands. Before her eyes can begin to widen at the gesture, he's speaking in a firm - albeit rushed - tone, "I was just thinking I'd like to see you smile like that, laugh that way - all the time. And I was wishing I could always be the one to put that smile on your face and that laugh in your voice." He links their fingers; hers have grown a little chilled; they actually tremble a bit. When he looks into her eyes he sees they have become a shade glassy.

Mulder offers a small grin. Scoots a bit closer still, and adds, "I wish I could find the words, to tell you... what you mean to me. More than being a friend and a partner, Scully - a lot more than that. I was also wishing that I... could kiss you."

Her jaw drops a few inches, and now those baby blues of hers have filled with a brightness too wet to be anything less than tears. She swallows a few times. So does he. And before he can change his mind, before she can move away and break the moment, Mulder raises his free hand to her cheek, cups her chin, thumb brushing over her bottom lip. It also trembles, just a little... and that tremble tells him everything he needs to know. Leaning forward, Mulder touches his mouth to Scully's for the very first time.

Their lips cling cautiously, shyly - hesitantly. He doesn't want to lose sight of her so he keeps his eyes open, seeing the exact moment hers closes and the tears gathering under each lid squeeze out and slip down her cheeks. Some of them dampen the corner of his mouth and it's the salt of that wet emotion that causes his eyes to flutter shut and his senses to absorb everything beyond simple sight...

The sweet taste of her lips, just a trace of lipstick still evident. Something fruity, like pears with an underlying darker flavor. He imagines the inside of her mouth will have that more potent bouquet.

The ultra-soft feel of her cheek under his palm; those small bones and delicate angles. The mole that clings to her upper lip - the one she's always trying to hide from the world - is under the pad of his thumb. It feels like velvet.

The sound of accelerated breathing; when he slips his other hand around her waist and brings her closer, those quick breaths vibrate against the cotton of his shirt, against his chest.

The touch of her fingers on his shoulders, the flexing of rounded nails on his biceps. She probably doesn't realize it, but she's kneading him like a cat. It's the most erotic thing he's ever felt.

All of this and more, pouring into Mulder as he holds the woman he's found himself in love with; as he touches her, kisses her. So much more he can barely begin to comprehend. An entire world, exotic and different from the one he usually inhabits... and all from one single first kiss; from the touch of lips.

He pulls away, reluctantly. Giving them both a moment to regroup seems like a good idea, and he wants to see into her eyes, to assure himself this is what she wants. When he looks at her she's smiling, flushed a little, those glorious blue eyes of hers still a little damp. That smile...

"There it is." He doesn't realize he's spoken aloud until he notices the puzzlement on her face. Now it's his turn to flush, as he hastily adds, "The smile, Scully. I like it. I want more of it." His arms wrap around her waist and he tugs her close, pressing his cheek to her hair, murmuring in her ear. "I'd like to do it again. Kiss you, again." He eases away, looks into her eyes, "But only if it's something you want, as well. Guess I should be asking if you do. If you're okay with this. I know how I feel; now I want to hear your thoughts. I'm asking you to think about... us."

Scully is silent and still in his arms, her hands now resting lightly on his shoulders. Holding his gaze, her own soft and open, yet a little unsure, she takes one deep breath, before she speaks. "Am I okay with it? Have I thought of this, between us? Of course I have, Mulder. I wouldn't be a normal, functioning woman if I'd never looked your way and wondered what it would be like to touch you, kiss you. What it would be like to be... yours." Her voice drops to a whisper, "What it would be like to have you belong to me."

"God, Scully." His arms tighten when her soft words register. She's saying everything he hoped she'd say. He buries his face in her hair and lets the relief wash over him, loving the way her hands slide up over his shoulders and clasp around his neck. She wants the same things he wants; she wants him. She's willing to try this, see where it takes them. She's open to building on the love he knows they already have between them.

And if she found herself in love with him, the way he's fallen for her... he couldn't ask for more in this or any other life.

For long minutes they hold each other close, bodies melded together. Her head fits under his chin as if it's been fashioned for just that spot, and her arms are just the right length to wrap around his neck. The silence between them is a little edgy, but that's a good thing. There are butterflies fluttering in anticipatory sensation, but that's one of the side benefits of those first stages of a more romantic relationship. It may seem a bit incongruous when the sum total of their years together are taken into consideration. It's also a part of love that should never be rushed through.

Mulder's very glad they're not rushing, even though his body is more than ready to push it. They need this. They need the romance.

"Scully, do you mind if I tell you that I've been thinking about this for a very long time?" His lips are warm against her ear; he punctuates his question with one nipping kiss on her lobe, and smiles at the shudder he feels under his mouth.

Her reply is breathed into the hollow of his throat. "Not if you don't mind that I've thought about you, the same way, and for probably just as long." She snuggles closer and he shifts her until she's more or less sitting in his lap.

"What d'you think we should do about it?" He strives to remain fairly casual. He's sure she sees right through him.

"I think we should take it as it comes, Mulder. We've been best friends for years. We've loved each other for a long time, too. I'm willing to make this work, if you are. I'm in no hurry. What about you?" Her face tilts up to his, her gaze locks on his.

She's already given him so much more than he'd imagined; with her simple affirmation of her own feelings she's offered him the world. If nothing more came of it, Mulder thinks he could die a happy man, knowing this woman loved him as more than a partner or friend. Of course he wants more. He wants it all, he can't help it. But he can pace himself to whatever she decides; if that's better for her.

"I want the same thing as you. I can take it slowly; see where it leads." The words are true but how they cost him to say them... and it's a war that must really show on his face, for Scully shakes her head and cups his jaw in her hands; pulls him closer.

Against his mouth she chastises, "Oh, Mulder. You'd do that for me, wouldn't you? Luckily for you I want so much more. I want it all. I can't wait. I've already waited so long..."

This time she's the one who deepens the kiss. When his mouth responds with sudden ardor her lips part for him and her tongue touches his... and another world hovers within reach and both of them take hold of it. The kiss lengthens, grows in passion, in need. So much need, dizzying and intoxicating in its power. Her body shifts as they kiss, and now she's fully facing him, straddling his lap. His hands slide down to her hips and he presses her against him, torturing himself. A soft moan filters through the kisses that are gaining in heat and strength; he has no idea if he made the sound, or if she did. It doesn't matter; they'll share it.

They'll share everything.

He doesn't even question whether it's too soon. Doesn't contemplate pulling back, suggesting they wait a little, ease into this new phase of their relationship. All he comprehends, cares about, is that Scully sees, as he does, the necessity of a new phase. She wants it. She's actively pursuing it, and he didn't even have to talk her into it... as if he could; she's so much her own woman. Now she's about to become his woman.

Thank you, God...

In a corner of his fogged-up brain, he thinks they need to find a bed. Their first time should really be in a bed. But Scully's sofa is comfortable, made of soft fabric wrapped around fat cushions. It's wide and long, the kind of sofa you can really sink into. He doesn't want to gain his feet and separate himself from her for those necessary few yards to her bedroom. Besides, they've spent some great times together on this sofa over the years. True, the fun centered around talking. It's about time that talk turned to action... and where better than on a piece of furniture he's suddenly grown overly fond of?

Not to mention she's holding him so tightly that he'd have to pry her loose with a crowbar, if he had one handy.

Without words to clutter, actions scream aloud as they continue to kiss, to touch and caress; to sigh with desire. Her mouth is a miracle of responsiveness and her body leaves him in no doubt as to what she's feeling for him. He slips his hands up underneath her clothes to stroke her back; she purrs. The heat builds between them slowly and hotly as the need for skin to skin contact overrides any residual modesty.

Now there are sweaters and shirts to dispose of, jeans to unzip and shoes to tug off. They take turns unwrapping each other, pausing between their mutual unveiling to admire, to run curious fingertips around skin gone shivery with need. She's pale and perfect, babysoft yet firm. Her arms are graceful, her shoulders delicate and her ribcage rises and falls with each erratic breath she takes as she reacts to the way his palms trace over her upper body. A white lace bra flutters to the carpet as Mulder removes that final layer of modesty, and Dana Scully is now clothed in nothing but a flush and his hands.

"Oh..." The small word breathes out in a puff on his shoulder, as he folds her against his body, inside his unbuttoned shirt. His chest hair tickles between them; his lips graze her forehead as she turns her face into his neck and nuzzles there. The feel of her bare breasts alongside his skin is maddening and her fingers are slipping up and down his back, adding heat and electricity to his sensitized flesh. Mulder's heart pounds furiously and hers echoes the beat; he twines a hand through her hair and meets her lips in one hard, starved gulp. It never occurs to him that he might be rushing along too fast; it never crosses her mind that she might be better served by slowing down and savoring each moment. Perhaps the second - or tenth - time they make love, they might savor.

Right now they just want to devour.

With one sharp tug, Scully pulls him over as she leans back, and Mulder finds himself pressing her down into the soft cushions, meeting her devilish smile with one of his own, that grin fading a little as he takes in the sight before him.

God, she's beautiful... red hair fanning out in a silky mass around her head, rounded breasts tipped with pale rose begging for his attention. Heavy-lidded eyes, so blue, staring into his; lips trembling just a bit, still smiling. He's never seen anything as lovely and he knows he never will, for as long as he lives. His gaze flickers over her and finds beauty everywhere he looks. His hands follow his eyes and he watches her lids flutter and fall; hears her soft moan, feels the way she trembles. For him.

"You're breathtaking." The words burst from him in a barely recognizable rasp, his voice thick with emotion and clogged with lust. Mulder watches with fascination as what he says sends wild pink into her cheeks, her neck. She shakes her head in denial but he won't let her sell herself short, not for a single moment.

Mulder considers himself a very lucky man... he voices it aloud in another thick rasp, and Scully cups his face, brushes his full bottom lip with a tender thumb. "I think I'm the lucky one, Mulder. I would have let this spin out for a long time, feeling this way and never doing anything about it. Never allowing myself to gamble that you'd reciprocate. Maybe we're zipping along a little quickly but we've waited so long, already. It seems as though we've been waiting forever, doesn't it?"

"Yes. It feels that way for me too, Scully. Definitely waiting for you, but I just didn't know how deep it went, not until a few minutes ago. And everything clicked into place, all at once. I don't want to waste another minute." He whispers the last few words into her open mouth and feels them echoed back against his tongue.

"Not another minute..."

Small and capable hands accomplish the rest of his disrobing and pull off his jeans, socks and shorts. Scully shreds them from his body without relinquishing her position beneath him; it's an impressive display of dexterity, he thinks. In just a few seconds the remainder of his clothing is heaped next to the sofa and he's naked and pulsing between her thighs, up against her damp heat. Their eyes lock and their breaths mingle in a long, nipping kiss that sends tongues battling for dominance. Deep. Wet. Hot...

"Jesus!" He all but gasps it as her mouth bites at his. He fights the urge to close his eyes and let this rush over his senses. He wants to watch her as she kisses him. Nobody has ever kissed him like this, as if he was a banquet laid out for their pleasure. He can't remember the last time a woman laid with him and was generous with herself, gave of herself so completely. He thinks maybe there never was one; that whatever they provided him was a watery and impossibly pale imitation of the real thing, of what love can be when it's given the right way. Mulder tunnels his fingers through her bright hair and offers the love right back to her.

Deeper. Wetter. Hotter.

When his swollen mouth slips over her throat and down to her breast, fastening on the tight rosy nipple, Scully purrs again and one hand holds him there, asking him without words to linger for as long as he wants to. Luckily for both of them, he chooses to linger a long time. He spends endless moments at her breast, lavishing it with eager lips and a tender tongue, his lower body rocking against her soft center. Each compulsive movement brings him a little closer, makes him almost slide right in... until he realizes he's poised and ready to delve, when he'd intended to take a lot more time learning her, loving her, giving to her.

He pulls himself back carefully, earning a hazy and confused, "Mulder... where are you... ohhh..." A second small huff of acknowledgment expels into the air as he kisses his way down over her stomach and discovers for himself another sweet pair of lips needing his attention. Against his tongue she's salty, creamy, slippery, sensuous as hell. Delicious... and all his. Her flesh melts into his mouth, her hips move in tandem with her soft moans, and both hands are now fisted in his hair. He can feel her wild trembles, the shudders she can't hold back, the building of release in her body. He wants to feel that orgasm with his mouth instead of his penis, this very first time.

When she moves away he almost growls in reaction to losing what he wants the most, until her hands urge him up and over her again, until her mouth whispers brokenly in his ear, "In me first, it's important, Mulder, please... inside me."

God, she's so right. Their first climax needs to be mingled together, it's vital, they need it so much, just like that... and he slips into her, deep, wet, hot. Filling each other to the very brim, they are meant to fit together marvelously well. Perfect. They groan it to each other, as they find rhythm and movement, as they make magic happen.


Someday he'll think back on this very moment and tell himself that but for a smile that knocked him sideways, he might never have known what loving Dana Scully would be all about. How her eyes would tear as she approached her climax; how she'd leave ten little nail-shaped crescents on his shoulders. How his hands would weave into her hair and the way those silky curls would wrap themselves around his fingers in the same manner as her love wound into his heart. The moist caress of her breath as she'd gasp his name into his ear; the need he'd have, to drive himself so deep within her body that he'd become forever lost there, and willingly so. Her legs, winding all around him; and her arms, squeezing him hard, as she'd convulse, clamping him tighter than a velvet fist. The way she'd cry out his name, a two-syllable sonnet that would decimate his soul... The aftermath, of holding each other and falling asleep with an unspoken promise that there'd be no turning back, for either of them.

All because Dana Scully gave him a smile that told him, more than words, their time had come. All because she held nothing in reserve when she laughed, when she kissed, when she loved. Someday he'll think back on this day and smile himself as he remembers the perfection of it.

Of course they were meant to love, regardless of what the catalyst might have been. He knows this and so does she. But still... it all started with that fabulous, full-blown smile, the one he was smart enough to see and to act upon.

He's such a lucky man...

In the pre-dawn hours of a significant and monumental night, they hold fast to each other, and sleep.


Additional notes: I have written De Love in all kinds of ways, but I think writing 'first-time MSR' remains one of my favorites. Good thing too, considering how many I have written!

I hope you enjoyed yet one more 'first-time love' fic, between Mulder and Scully.

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