Favorite Lines + indicates that this listing has been added since the last update __________________________________________________________________ Act of Faith by Brandon D. Ray (Book of Acts) {G} [NC-17] He follows me, of course, and as I dump the spaghetti noodles into the pot of boiling water, he slips his arms around my waist from behind, and murmurs in my ear, "Funny isn't it, how cooking imitates life sometimes?" I smile, not knowing what's coming, but knowing that it's going to be good. He goes on, "I mean, think about it. Those noodles are so firm and hard." He strokes my hipbones with his hands and I shiver slightly. "But after they've been in a warm, wet place for awhile, they get soft." And he squeezes my hips and I press myself back against him and sigh, and for a moment I close my eyes and just lean against him as he continues to caress my hips and sides. __________________________________________________________________ The Actor by A.I. Irving {G}{A}{W} [NC-17] "Are we talking about my sex life or about the X-files?" The Assistant Director stood tossed his empty cup into a nearby trash can. "Is there a difference?" __________________________________________________________________ All the Lies That Are My Life by Onemillionandnine {G} [NC-17] Her ponderous Super Ego was clearly tied up in the trunk right now, while Miss Id took the ScullyMobile to Tijuana. __________________________________________________________________ Annelid by aka"Jake" {G} [R] (hanging under a bridge) "Mulder!" Scully gasps. "Don't look down." "Too late." "Under no circumstances describe to me what you saw." __________________________________________________________________ Annelid by aka"Jake" {G} [R] Hell, we may die here today, but at least I'll go out looking like a hero. That's something. __________________________________________________________________ Basketball Therapy by Kel {G}{A} [PG] Mulder: "...I can't always read your mind, but you make it pretty clear when you're planning on kicking a guy in the nuts." Scully: "Got to stop telegraphing my moves." __________________________________________________________________ Becoming Dana by Brandon D. Ray {G} [PG] Things are changing, inside of her and between the two of them. Those changes have been slow and gradual, almost as imperceptible as the movement of a glacier. They are also, like that glacier, overwhelming and inexorable, and impossible to ignore. __________________________________________________________________ Beds are Burning by (author name removed by request) {W} [NC-17] The truth is, sitting in a car with Scully and having to think of words that have to do with sex is seriously compromising my grey matter. I'm a big lump of duh. __________________________________________________________________ The Best Laid Plans by Avalon {G} [R] Scully walks in a few moments later to find me sprawled on my side on the bed, with the champagne chilling next to me on the nightstand. She smiles, and she twirls around in the red pajama top like a little ballerina on stage. The shirt rides up just a bit, exposing her thighs, making her short legs appear exceptionally long. She looks fantastic. "I found this on the back of the door, so I figured it was for me." __________________________________________________________________ Black Hole Season by Penumbra {G} [PG] "What are you doing?" She asks warily. I wrap her up tight and simply let us float for a moment, one of my bare feet cupping the top of hers. "I think you should climb back in bed before your feet get any colder," is all I say. I make coffee and fetch in the paper and we turn on the lamps in the winter light. And the newspaper drifts in sheaves as we sit in bed together reading and she doesn't even want the sports section but we vie for the forum and she starts the crossword puzzle and I finish up a corner of it and I spill coffee on the classifieds, and I tilt her chin and kiss her briefly and she smiles because the world hasn't ended but it moves, oh, it moves. __________________________________________________________________ Celebration by Jess {G} [NC-17] I have looked over in the car, or in a motel room, or on the plane, or once even in the middle of a hearing with Skinner and a panel of Senators and seen him, gloriously hard and practically thrumming like a guitar. __________________________________________________________________ Ceremony by Darwin {G}{W} [NC-17] (Scully musing about Mulder) She wonders where this man had come from and what cosmic mix up had paired them in this life. He seems more the love child of Uri Geller and Sigmund Freud than the product of his tepid, unexceptional parents, with a dash of Buddy Holly thrown in and enough Batman to keep them alive. He is kinetic energy encapsulated with the eyes of a sea turtle, the moves of a gazelle, and the hairdo of a hedgehog; he is dark and light, kindness and cruelty, id and superego, guilty and justified, all colliding violently under his ribs and collapsing, whirling pulsar-like. She knows him. This is his heart. And he is her mate. __________________________________________________________________ Comfort by Kay S. {G} [NC-17] Mulder braced his hands on the bed and moved slowly, carefuly. "I won't break," she breathed, her mouth against his ear. "I might," he managed. __________________________________________________________________ Contact High by Penumbra {G} [NC-17] "I'm sorry I was so forward earlier," she says. "You know me, that was probably the most impulsive moment of my life, so of course it was a hideous miscalculation." "You were just trying to prove a point," says Mulder. "Besides, it constituted the biggest thrill of my life, so don't apologize." The biggest thrill of his life was being groped by a whacked-out pathologist? Scully tries to pinpoint the biggest thrill of her life. A veteran of great dry spells of sexual somnambulism, she is periodically plunged into a vortex of erotic preoccupation by seemingly random strangers. Ed. Padgett. But, ultimately, it is Mulder who has cornered the market on stroking her libido to a jagged edge, who prompts cardiac gyrations, breathlessness, and impromptu daydreams; and it is Mulder who holds the record for the longest starring run in her late-night fantasy theater, playing a secret agent man with all the right moves. Typecasting, she suspects. In the mornings all that is forgotten as she faces off with Daytime Mulder, who's bossy, busy, argumentative and demanding. Sticking her with the paperwork. Always wanting to drive. He's flippant and callous and therefore easily differentiated from Nighttime Mulder, who would rather kiss her than talk. And never the twain shall meet. Right? "I don't think I've yet had the biggest thrill of my life," she admits. "Really, Scully?" His voice is low, like a co-conspirator. His thumb strokes the side of her hand. They stare at his laundry hamper. She huffs a deep reserve of oxygen. "The truth is, Mulder - absurd cosmic joke that it appears to be - I'm in love with you, and it tends to play havoc with my forays into dating, hence the dearth of thrills." __________________________________________________________________ Cutting to the Chase by PD (This exchange between first Charlie Scully, then Mulder, then Scully cracks me up.) "Well, I mean, it was a fairly spectacular story. You know the sagas of the old Norse gods, Mulder?" "What you mean like Thor and the Incredible Hulk?" "I think that's Saturday morning television, Mulder," Scully whispered. __________________________________________________________________ Dolce Far Niente by Blackwood {G} [NC-17] (Lets hear it for the men who listen to their intellect and not their oh well, you get the idea. I'm also partial to the title of this one) His instinct is to thrust, parry, inseminate and leave. His intellect argues to loiter, pulse, stroke and savor. __________________________________________________________________ ELS by Dawson Rambo {G}{A} [NC-17] "Did you get a statement?" Mulder asked. "No," Cross said. "Doctor Payne here wouldn't let us." "Are you saying that the good doctor impeded a federal investigation?" Mulder asked, turning his gaze on Payne. "I'm sorry," Payne said. "And you are...?" In unison, Mulder and Scully presented their credentials. "Mulder," he said. "Scully," she finished. Together: "FBI." Cross hid a smile behind his hand, wondering how long they'd practiced that move. "I'm sorry," Payne said arrogantly, "I was led to believe this was an NYPD matter. What interest does the FBI have in a...common criminal getting shot? Surely you have better things to do with my tax dollars." "Actually," Mulder said, deadpan, "we were called over to this case from a Medicare fraud investigation." Scully noted with some satisfaction that Payne actually paled at Mulder's words. "But the fact of the matter is," Mulder continued as if he hadn't noticed, "this case is a joint NYPD-FBI matter. And interfering with a federal investigation is...oddly enough...a federal crime. Now, before we all start calling lawyers and press conferences and naming names for tomorrow's New York Times, why doesn't someone here tell me what the hell just happened?" "The patient presented with a gunshot wound just below the right shoulder. The bullet traversed his body ventrally, exiting just beneath the third intercostal space. This had the effect of-" "Severing the subclavian artery and the ascending pulmonary vein, causing the patient to drop almost immediately into hypovolemic shock, which almost surely killed him," Scully finished. "Yes," Payne said softly, nodding. "Quite. I wasn't aware that the FBI was training its...what do I call you?" "Special Agent," Mulder helpfully supplied. "Yes. Quite," Payne repeated, sounding vaguely like a British butler. "Anyhow, as I was saying-" "I'm a medical doctor," Scully said. "And you're an FBI Agent?" Payne asked, as if shocked that anyone would throw away the benefits of a medical education for something so pedestrian as...police work. Scully had her reply ready. Cross saw it coming and nudged Hicks in the ribs with his elbow. Even Alex turned to hear Scully's reply. "I find it lets me deal with a much nicer class of people than medicine," Scully said smugly. "Yes," Payne said, and then paused. Hicks, Cross, Cahill, Mulder and Scully all finished his thought simultaneously. "Quite," they chorused. __________________________________________________________________ The Fallout From Arcadia by Ten {G}{M} [NC-17] (Spoken by Scully to Mulder) "Well, it's been nice, but I have to scream now..." __________________________________________________________________ Fine by Cratkinson {G} [PG] (Mulder, who is frustrated by Scully's calm insistence that he must leave. NIHT missing scene) "This time I really do shout. I don't *want* you to be fine! I don't want you to be calm and collected. I don't want you to be able to 'handle it,' Scully! I want you to rant and rave and throw things. I want you to hurt as bad as I hurt. I want you to feel something." __________________________________________________________________ The Lost 02 Found by Wintersong {G}{M} [R] Her partner was not the cause of all the pain in her life. He was the reward. __________________________________________________________________ The Lost 02 Found by Wintersong {G}{M} [R] "We're in this together, Mulder, because the truth is that the only time I'm not alone anymore is when I'm with you." __________________________________________________________________ Fried Green Men at the Crashdown Cafe by Fialka In the morning she wakes to bright sun making glowing golden squares of the curtains and Mulder lying between her legs, head pillowed on her abdomen. His hands tighten around her waist as she stirs, holding her in place in case she had any desire to move, .... [snip] ..... Mulder's hands move over her hips, testing the way their shape fits into his palms. He likes the softly padded parts of her best, which is just as well since she's fighting a losing battle with the generations of good County Donegal women in her genetic makeup. Another ten years or so and she's going to be all round. "What are you doing down there?" she asks. Listening to your stomach. __________________________________________________________________ Going Once By Jori {G} [NC-17] (Scully watches Mulder stir his ice tea) I can watch his constant stirring but not his eyes. I look at that hand moving that spoon around and around oh so slowly around and around. The ice cubes move around the spoon and the tea around the ice cubes and there is even a little lemon going around and around just because of his hand. The sugar he poured in is even stirred up into a tiny tornado at the bottom of the glass. I wonder if that hand could do that to me? Could it make me go around and around, stirring up everything into a tiny tornado . . . __________________________________________________________________ Gradual Precipitation by Narida Law {G}{W} [NC-17] (Mulder whispering to Scully) "Spin cycle!" [Cracks me up every I think of that line] __________________________________________________________________ Heaven in Hell's Despair by Meredith {G}{M} [PG] (Spoken by Mulder to Scully.) "Wield the pen." __________________________________________________________________ Heavy by XochiLuvr {G} [PG] (Just read this one little part. Gives me chills every time.) In death he's just another body-bagged, toe-tagged package, waiting for something in death with the one thing he never had in life: infinite patience. When I asked him if he ever wanted to get out of the car or just slow down, I never in my worst nightmares expected him to drive off without me. My wish was for us to be a family. Somehow he killed the dream the same day I learned he'd helped me make it real. __________________________________________________________________ Inside A Warehouse by Punk Maneuverability {G} [PG] Scully tried to make her feet obey, but they sat there on the ends of her legs like bored potatoes. Mulder, spotting her difficulty, started an impromptu soft-shoe, proving that he could still move his feet. __________________________________________________________________ Iolokus I by RivkaT and MustangSally {G}{A}{W} [NC-17] Was this one of the images he used to amuse himself those lonely nights of masturbating on his sofa? Really, the sofa should have given birth to an ottoman after all the sperm it had taken into its crevices. __________________________________________________________________ Iolokus by MustangSally and Rivka T {G}{A}{W} [NC-17] (An annoyed Scully's thoughts while letting Mulder into her apartment) I don't like having him here; he takes up too much space, invades my little lair and breaks things. He breaks water glasses, door hinges, a magazine rack, and it's all because he is too big, has too much energy for the rooms. While I was in San Diego he killed all my plants by over-watering them. I left a dead child on the West Coast and came home to slimy decay in terracotta pots. __________________________________________________________________ Iolokus by MustangSally and Rivka T {G}{A}{W} [NC-17] (Mulder POV. This passage describes how Mulder encourages Scully to open up and meet her daughter Miranda. Mulder has been chief cook, bottle washer and essentially Mr. Mom since Miranda was adopted. ) I slept like the dead. Really. I slept through Miranda's three o'clock feeding, I slept through my six o'clock alarm, I slept through Warwick's six thirty 'be there or be dog food', I slept through the spring sunlight's feeble knock, knock, knocking on my chamber door, and I found out later that I outslept Scully (which was an oversleeping of Olympic proportions). What finally woke me up was a familiar pair of tiny, cold, hands latching onto my nose like a tick looking for breakfast. "Mooselet," I reached out and got an armful of hot, heavy baby. While Scully sat at the edge of the bed, muffled in her sweats once again, Miranda greeted me with a solemn look, her jadeite eyes, and the usual probicus squeeze. Sitting pertly upright and staring down at me as through she was cataloging each and every thought that had flitted across my mind since last we'd seen one another, Miranda blinked, her nearly translucent skin shining pink in the sunlight. Sometimes I thought I could see though her skin and see each and every blood cell running through her incredibly tiny and complex arteries and veins. She was so small, so indescribably fragile - made of damp tissue paper and bamboo bones that I thought one casual brush with my oafish hand could crush her like a paper lantern. Scully seemed made of brick and mortar by comparison. Finally, Miranda sighed and pressed her wet little mouth against my left eye. She was trying to kiss, but her aim needed work. Then she straightened up and twined her wet little fingers in my hair. At the other end of the bed, Scully made a strangled noise -- ooh, bad adjective, under the circumstances, but it's the conventional designation for the sound -- and stood up. Miranda, watching her movement, stared after her with her usual nosy interest. The kid was either going to follow in her parents' career footsteps or become a gossip columnist. I hoped the latter - being sued was better than being shot at. "What's that all about?" I asked, my voice coming out in a freshly awakened croak. "You two look so *cozy*," Scully admitted and shrugged. "You sound jealous," I said and wiped a clear pearl of drool away from Miranda's bottom lip. "She's so . . . easy with you. I don't think she likes me," Scully's voice trailed off in such a hopeless fashion that I wanted to laugh. "She doesn't know you yet. She's really developed a personality over the last few months." Scully stared at her hands. "I have to admit, she wasn't like this when I was taking care of her. Human babies are altricial, they're born about three months before they're really ready for independent life, it has to do with the size of the human brain and the compromise shape of a woman's hips that allow her both to walk and to give birth. Newborns are just fetuses outside the womb, really, responsive to stimuli but not operating in a recognizably human fashion . . . Am I rambling?" "Usually you refer to it as 'explaining the science behind the phenomenon'." The corners of her mouth twitched and Miranda burbled, detaching her Velcro fingers from my hair long enough to stretch out an imperious hand to Scully. "Yah-yah-yah-yah-yah-yah!" she declared. Roughly translated from Mooselet-speak this meant: Come hither mere mortal and you may amuse me. "C'mon," I said. "I'll show you how to bribe her into adoration." Cautiously, Scully crossed the room and perched on the edge of the bed, looking at the Mooselet as though she were a small bomb in a pink onesie that was liable to go off at any moment. I could have assured her that the Mooselet rarely had a bowel movement until at least noon, so she was safe for the time being. "She likes you to sing to her," I explained and Scully rolled her eyes in pain; neither one of us could carry a tune in a bucket. "This is not time to be vain," I added a moment later as I lay down on my stomach on the bed so I was eye to eye with Miranda. Scully watched, one side of her mouth threatening a smile. I took a deep breath and started. "Take me out to the ball game "Take me out with the crowd, "Buy me some peanuts and Crack-er Jack "I don't care if I never get back." I paused, and Miranda looked expectantly at me, knowing that there was more. I couldn't look at Scully. Some things are too embarrassing to share with the person you've been having kinky sex with. "Let me root, root, root for the home team, "If they don't win it's a shame; "For it's one, two, three strikes you're out "At the old ball game." On cue, Miranda squealed like a piglet and kicked at the mattress while she clawed at the air with devilish glee. She really liked to see me make an ass out of myself. Now that her Highness had been jollied into a more hospitable mood I looked at Scully, who was actually smiling down at Miranda with something other than curiosity. "Put your face down to her." Scully complied, pushing her hair back behind her ear in an ember swath over the ash of her sweatshirt. Miranda watched solemnly as Scully bent down, then she looked back to me with a composed expression that didn't belong on a face that small. "Kiss," I instructed her. Miranda blinked and jerked her attention back to Scully. I swear Scully didn't breathe the entire time Miranda thought it over. Then Miranda leaned over and slammed her wide- open sucker mouth onto Scully's cheekbone, practically on her ear. So she needed a little target practice. I figured I had at least thirteen more years before boys were lining up at the door to get open-mouth kisses from Miranda, if the boys made it past the moat full of alligators, the drawbridge, the attack dogs and the anti-personnel mines. When Miranda got bored of sucking on Scully's face, she straightened up, looked Scully straight in the eye and made a loud and lengthy declaration in Mooselet-speak. Scully nodded and thought about it. "No, you are completely right, I couldn't agree with you more." Miranda seemed satisfied with this and stuck her fingers in her mouth for some meditative sucking. She latched her free hand into Scully's hair and began to squeeze the thick handful she'd gathered, looking at the lock of hair as though she was going to write an analysis of its color and texture later. Apparently all it took to win complete and unconditional approval from Scully was to be fat, bald, and wear a lot of pink. I couldn't watch anymore, my chest felt like a tourist voodoo doll. I left them there on the bed wrapped in some strange feminine communion and went to take a shower. __________________________________________________________________ Isosceles by Dr. Ambuguous (bugs and Ambress) {G} [NC-17] She warned him. "Mulder, don't make me hurt you." He put up his hands in mock defense and she gave him a slightly shaky, but most definitely sexy, little grin. At least he knew what was coming as she put a blocker's shoulder into his chest and sent him flying into the soggy pile of pillows. Even though she immediately dived on top of him and began her mining tour of his pants again, heedless of the rain, he was overcome with doubts. __________________________________________________________________ Leave a Message by Amanda Finch and Tim Scott {G}{M} [PG] She couldn't knocked him over with her little finger. It was tempting. Too tempting. He seemed to be carefully removing the tip of his tongue from his esophagus. "Impo.." His voice cracked a couple of octaves too high and he carefully stepped back and applied more pressure to the elevator key. "Impotence?" "Only for a week." "A *week*!" "Or so." "OR SO!!!" He began to pace the length of the elevator. "Revenge," Mulder. "As a psychologist, you know that it's a basic human response to negative stimuli." She felt her eyes narrow almost joyously. "As a former medical student, I know that there are right ways to do it, and *better* ways to do it." He rubbed his eyes frantically with one hand. "This is how it all starts, Scully. Good intentions turn into bad intentions, cats die, people piss purple and suddenly they can't get it up anymore!" Mulder uncovered his eyes to see that four people were waiting for him to leave the elevator. Two men, open-mouthed and panic-stricken. Two women, grinning widely. Out of sight behind them, Scully snapped a thumbs-up sign. __________________________________________________________________ Leave a Message by Amanda Finch and Tim Scott {G}{M} [PG] (The very first line.) The minute he heard the phrase vampire alligators he should've known to pack more underwear. __________________________________________________________________ Leave a Message by Amanda Finch and Tim Scott {G}{M} [PG] (Mulder was supposed to meet Scully but is so late, he's stood her up. He's on an airplane coming home.) One ring... two rings and -- "You've reached the office of Fox Mulder. I'm not here right now. Please hold for a list of options. This conversation may be recorded to provide evidence of a vast government conspiracy." Confused, he shook his head. Last time he checked, they had the same boring, computer-generated voicemail message as every other -- "If you are a shadowy informant who desires a clandestine meeting to drop vague clues which will eventually lead to a horrible, sudden death -- press 1." He already had his top three suspects. "If you're a genetic mutant or know of one -- press 2." Though he wasn't sure if Frohike counted for a whole suspect. "If you're calling about a paranormal incident such as telekinesis, clairvoyance, or precognition -- press 3." At least the Gunmen didn't have a sample of him saying 'paramasturbatory'... "If you're calling about a supernatural phenomenon such as vampirism, zombies, lycanthropy or demons -- press 4." So this was how they lured Scully to Vegas. Niiiice. "If you have information leading to the arrest and/or conviction of David Copperfield -- press 5." Mulder snorted. Okay, that one was funny. "If you're a time traveler coming back from the future to prevent an event from occurring -- press 6. On the other hand, if you are then you probably already have and this won't be necessary. Never mind." He pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at in disbelief before putting it back again. " -- experienced missing time -- press 7." Mulder wondered if he still had that footage of Frohike on New Year's eve waking up in the Cher wig and sequined jacket after Langly found him passed out in the hotel foyer. "If you have proof of the existence of an Extra-terrestrial Biological Entity or happen to be one -- press 8." Bastards. "If you think there's a --" Scully's voice cut in. "-- perfectly logical explanation for all of this --" His voice again. "Press 9." What started out as a shocked chortle quickly degenerated into malicious snickering. Dylan and his mother both regarded Mulder with a bit of worry. Oh. Oh, this was *priceless.* They should be commended. Right after he kicked their asses. Then came the next option. "If you're our Assistant Director, don't call us. We'll call *you*. Right after we're through having sex on this desk, sir." It was the day Dylan learned the F-word. __________________________________________________________________ The Lost by Wintersong {G}{M} [R] (One of my favorite descriptions of Scully:) Watching her standing there, her face distant, her hands and exposed wrists streaked with blood with an eviscerated corpse splayed out at her feet like some obscene sacrifice, he had believed every word she said. Watching her now, the drama of the moment receded into memory, the firelight turning her skin a burnished gold, he still believed her. Her capability for ruthless determination exceeded his own. He had always known that. As hot as his passions burned, their very nature could work against him when directed inward. Hers was a cold rage, as terrifying as it was effective for the simple fact that it remained undiluted. It hid beneath proper suits and government haircuts, emerging only in flashes after she had been pushed to some unforeseen breaking point. Every lost piece of evidence, every covert action that violated her sense of justice and honor, every time he came a hair's breath distance from death, the edge on that rage was honed just a little bit finer. Their enemies had absolutely no idea what they were creating. He was not sure Scully herself knew. She looked in the mirror and saw the youth her lost naivete and injured innocence had leached from her face. He saw tempered strength and commitment. She saw loss...he saw truth. If his passions were a weapon then her hand, guided by cold logic and ruthless fury , would strike the final blow. And nothing...not a serial killer, not a blizzard and not even themselves - was going to stop her. He was looking forward to it. __________________________________________________________________ Louisiana by Terma {G} [NC-17] "I don't know what it is about you tonight," he says in a growl, tracing [censored] with the tips of his index fingers, feeling its subtle throb. "But I swear I could swallow you alive, he confesses..." __________________________________________________________________ Meaning of the Term by SisterZooey {G} [R] "Promise me you won't marry anyone else. If you want to get married one day, marry me. Consider it an open invitation." "That's kind of possessive, isn't it Mulder?" "You already own me, Scully. We're halfway there." __________________________________________________________________ Miracle by Tesla {G}{M} [PG] "Do you have a problem with this, Agent?" Skinner asked. Mulder lifted his eyes. "Well, let me see. Neither Scully nor myself can speak any of the languages of this country. It is extremely unstable due to the Muslim fundamentalists infiltrating from Pakistan and Afghanistan. Neither one of us has any experience in reading and evaluating espionage e-traffic. Americans are at risk due to the anti-Western sentiments. The country is divided between former Soviets who are persecuting the Muslims, and Muslim fundamentalists who are persecuting Westerners. There is no paranormal activity. There is a nuclear power plant that is supposed to be closed. However, neither Scully nor myself has extensive experience in monitoring nuclear stockpiles. The only qualifications we have for this trip are that we're Feds, and all of our vaccinations are current." __________________________________________________________________ Miraculous Manifestation by mountainphile {G}{W} [NC-17] The early spring night darkened, the air grew colder and windier. Too late Scully realized she underdressed, wearing only her light pantsuit as protection. She stood next to him, shivering despite futile attempts to hide shaking arms and quivering lips. Still no car approached and her teeth were on the verge of chattering... Mulder, in his long, over-sized coat, loose and unbuttoned, cast guilty looks of concern at her state of exposure. The few, brisk rubs he gave her arms did very little to alleviate her misery or protect her from the cold, and she felt his frustration. It was not an unheard of thing for him to share clothing with her on occasion -- a tee-shirt or a scarf -- but that was done in private and friend-to-friend. So she arched her brow in surprise when he muttered, "C'mere, Scully." Before she could move or make a reply, he stepped forward, wrapping the open edges of the garment around her like a windbreak. Enveloped in the depths of the coat, she absorbed the waves of heat generated from his body. Toasty and comforted, she huddled against him, her frigid hands creeping along his sides to burrow up near his armpits. Each nuance and movement evoked memories, precious souvenirs of times and cases and files long past. Late night winter stakeouts. His hand molding hers around a cup of hot coffee. Huddling together on cement-hard snow pack in the middle of a frozen wasteland, her hands and face shoved into the folds of his parka... __________________________________________________________________ A Moment In The Sun by prufrock's love {G} [R] (Per Mulder as spoken to a sleeping Scully) "Why do you build such a wall around yourself? You never drop your guard, never put it all on the line You never trust me, Scully. You saved me in a hundred ways: you saved my life you kept me from drowning myself in booze and women and all you ask is that I don't ask you any questions. All I have is questions, but with you there's no past and no future, only today, and I can't live my life like that. If you're afraid to love me, I don't blame you, because I'm scared as hell to love you. You think I'm dangerous? You're dangerous, honey. You're either completely insane or completely right, and it scares the shit out of me either way. __________________________________________________________________ A Moment In The Sun by prufrock's love {G} [R] At the end of the hallway, a suspicious light glowed around Will's door. He hadn't heard Will since midnight, but that might only mean the boy had mastered scaling the tree in the backyard and sneaking in and out through his bedroom window. It was always suspicious when a member of the Mulder family made it home by curfew. He stuck his head into the room and found his son lounging on the rug in his undershirt and blue jeans, a science fiction novel in one hand, a telephone in the other, and a steady stream of charming, practiced bullshit pouring out of his mouth. Will was good: somewhere in the world, a fifteen-year-old girl's father should be very, very afraid. __________________________________________________________________ A Moment In The Sun by prufrock's love {G} [R] (Mulder speaking with Scully) "You're late," he repeated, still grinning stupidly. "Mulder," she said seriously, "I told you; it won't happen. No more babies. There was too much uterine trauma. The doctor said there was injury to my cervix and scarring of the endometrial lining and fallopian tubes." "Which part's your endometrial?" "The lining of the uterus. I thought you studied this." "I only memorized the parts I could reach with my tongue," he whispered into her ear, catching the fleshly lobe between his teeth for a millisecond. __________________________________________________________________ Move The Body Over by Soodonimh {G} [NC-17] (this line always makes me chuckle) I can forgive an accidental erection, but not one I'm sitting on. __________________________________________________________________ Nowhere Special by Blackwood {G} [NC-17] "Don't move," he remanded. "Why not?" "Not yet." "Mulder-" "Wait," he said and she stilled. __________________________________________________________________ One of Those Days by Georgia "Mike, this is Mulder. My partner," she adds casually. Yeah partner, buddy. Know what that term means these days? I'm her partner when she gets that far away look in her eye, when she's shaking all over just from my touch. I'm her partner when her eyes roll back in her head, when she pants my name, when her hands roam my body, when I bury myself inside her. Partner. Got it? __________________________________________________________________ Paper Saints by Jill Selby {M} [PG-13] "Because," Scully said, "his heart was found 10 miles away on his attorney's doorstep." All residual irritation over his partner's tardiness was swept away by a wave of enthusiasm. "You do realize that I've already come up with half a dozen theories and a couple of lawyer jokes." __________________________________________________________________ Paracelsus chapter XIII by prufrock's love {G} [R] "Each time I swore I was returning to DC and yet found my horse pointed toward Waterston's plantation, I had a dozen practical explanations some of them almost believable. You are better with practicality, Dana. You asked why I kept coming back, and I lied and said 'to fix the hole in the roof.' I asked why you kept letting me come back, and you said 'because you bring me coffee beans, Mr. Mulder.' "For a man who convinced himself he wasn't in love with you, I will say this: in Georgia, in the months immediately after the war, coffee beans were fifty dollars an ounce, love. Gold was forty, flour was thirty, and pretty young women without husbands and babies and holes in their roofs - were roughly ten cents an ounce. I bought coffee beans." __________________________________________________________________ Pillow Talk 02 - Origins by Livia Balaban {G} [R] "Which one of us," I asked, tapping my index finger accusingly on his shoulder, "suggested the incorporation of castanets into our nocturnal activities?" "That," he replied slyly, "is a style choice. Performing autopsies and toting a gun is a kink." __________________________________________________________________ Poetry in Motion by Rhondda Lake {G}{W} [NC-17] As if my own thoughts conjure action he pulls the chewed, glistening, stirrer from his lips and sets it aside as his other hand raises bringing one of those tiny offerings to his mouth. Lips part, just far enough to glimpse pearlescent teeth, a seed is placed and he bites down, gently, almost reverently. Again his tongue, snaking forward to coax the tender bit of flesh from the shell. His hand comes down as his mouth closes. He discards the shell as his jaw works, chewing the tiny morsel. He licks his lips to savor the last tang of saltiness. __________________________________________________________________ Random Priorities by Xtreme Unction: This is a priority: WHY do I always sniff at stuff I cannot identify? Why do I bring stuff right up to my face which could be dangerous, or even deadly? Not that these panties look the least bit dangerous -- not in the traditional law enforcement sense of the word. "Am I a pervert?" I ask myself aloud. __________________________________________________________________ Resurgam by Ophelia {G} [PG] (And this one makes me laugh:) She paused and asked, "Exactly how old are you right now, mentally?" "Here in Chilmark, about to use Kirk's Castile Soap in a manner unintended by the manufacturer? Fourteen?" he guessed. "Great," she said. "I'm going to jail for molesting your inner child." __________________________________________________________________ Scully and the Gap Man by Alicia K. {G} [NC-17] He pulled up his pants carefully, and now I was the one to look crestfallen. "What are you up for, then?" I fixed him with a stare that told him exactly how obtuse I thought he was being. He actually blushed a little. "Jesus, Scully, we'll have to eat at some point." __________________________________________________________________ Scully's Greatest Hits by Aurora Vere {G} [R] "Hm-hm-hm-hmmmm-hm-hm-hm-hmmmm....." What the...? Did someone just say something? Nah. It's gotta be my imagination. "Hm-hm-hmmm-hm-hm-hmmm...." That wasn't my imagination. Someone's humming. Scully. What the hell is she doing over there? This calls for investigation. Slowly, silently I tiptoe over to the crack in the door, our Great Divide, and I hear the hiss of running water. She's in the shower. Easy, boy. Heel. "...If you like peeeeeing in a clahhset..." What? That *wasn't* what I heard, was it? "...in a cahhht or the rainnnn..." What the hell is that noise? The radio? The TV? No. It sounds too drab. Boring. Must be one of those stupid, pointless self-empowerment tapes I caught her listening to last week. Sure sounds like one. What a godawful monotone. But who would empower someone to pee in a closet? __________________________________________________________________ Signs of Life by Mystphile {G}{W} [NC-17] She heard the tiny clink of his glasses on the night table, the rustle of paperwork and clothing that preceded his entry into bed. Under the sheet the heat from his body suddenly radiated down the length of her back and she felt him settle in beside her. "The light, Mulder?" He came from behind, leaning over her shoulder while his arms tucked around her in a snug, overlapping embrace that nearly lifted her off the mattress. Long and broad to her narrow smallness, he held her captive with muscular arms and legs, browsing his lips through her hair, over her ear, to the ticklish place at the back her neck. There he rested on the small seam of her scar, home to the chip that continued to prolong her life. He gave the spot tender acknowledgment with a ruminating kiss and her defenses crumbled before him. "It stays on," he murmured. "You want enlightenment... and I want to look at you." __________________________________________________________________ Speechless 03 - Angel by Anjou {G} [NC-17] This was everything in the world that he held dear, truly, housed in the tiny bones and fierce heart of this woman he held clasped to his chest. __________________________________________________________________ Struggling Green by Anne Haynes (Mulder, upon emerging from his motel bathroom to find Scully sitting on his bed.) He was dripping on the carpet. Staring. Ass-naked. Shit. He wrapped the towel around his hips, preserving what little dignity he had left. "God, Scully, could you make a little noise next time?" Her lips curved slightly, so slightly that he wasn't sure what he was seeing until her voice emerged, low and smoky. "What little noise would you like me to make?" __________________________________________________________________ Suspension of a Life in Progress by Blackwood {G} [PG] "Six?" His disappointment is obvious. She nods. "Weeks?" he adds. Her exaggerated sad face reveals her own disappointment. His head drops back onto his neck and he closes his eyes. He steps back, re- wrapping the clinging towel around his waist, tucking in the corner at his hip. "Death was easier than this," he mutters to himself. "Hey," she murmurs in a voice laced with honey. He looks back and she approaches. Her hands skim along damp forearms and up along his biceps, coming to rest on his shoulders. He shivers though he isn't cold. "There are other things we can do," she informs him with an arch of her brows. __________________________________________________________________ Sweet and Sour Frustration by Gina Rain {G} [R] "Can you blame me? You have no reaction to my kiss. No--scratch that. You immediately want to leave town after it, and then a few short hours later you're playing with my ass and circumnavigating my crotch. In a bus. In public." "So you did kiss me?" "You weren't sure? I must be slipping." "Well, applying a little pressure during a kiss might help, Mulder." "Agent Scully teaches me to kiss. Lesson 405. I might just have to flunk so I can repeat the course." He smiled. "I didn't want to be presumptuous, Scully. Look, I know how frustrated you've been. I can't change the x-files. They are--whatever--they are. What I can do--what I don't do often enough, is tell you how happy I am that you've come with me on this--wild ride. That you stay with me, in spite of everything." She closed her eyes again. She had to redouble her efforts at pushing back those wayward tears. Part of her hated when he was so nice to her. She felt him not so subtly sniffing her hair. "Mulder? You don't have to--why are you doing this?" Might as well nip this in the bud. "Doing what?" "This. This spooning. This sniffing. I mean, I'm a big girl. I took a chance. It didn't work. You don't have to give me a--mercy snuggle." __________________________________________________________________ Tempest by Missy Pennington {G}{A}{W} [R] (I've always loved this passage (the Demerol scene). This has always made me smile - sometimes when I've had a horrible day, I'll pull up the story and I feel a little bit better.) "Muller!" His heart began to pound harder. "What is it, Scully? What's wrong?" She looked up at him through glassy, unfocused eyes. "My knees are gone!" She struggled to sit up, but Mulder put his hands on her shoulders, pressing her back to the thin mattress. "No, Scully," he sighed. "Your knees are right where they're supposed to be. I promise." "Don't patternize me, Mulder -- I'm a doctor an' I *know* when my knees are gone!" She pointed toward her feet. "See? They're NOT where they're s'posed to be!" she wailed. "They're gone!" She sat up and looked forlornly at her straight legs. "Bye," she sniffed, waving limply. Torn between laughter and sympathy, Mulder picked up one of her legs under the knee and bent it. "See Scully? Your knee's right here. Now go to sleep." She looked at him gratefully. "You FOUND it!. Muller you're the best. You're susha good friend..." She struggled for the words. "You're susha a good friend that I'd...I'd give you my only knee f'you needed it." She looked at him solemnly. "I would." "Thaaaaat's nice, Scully," he said, stretching out his arms toward her. "Here -- hug me." "Huh?" She looked confused, but she reached up for him anyway. "Okay, Scully, heeeeeere we go." He linked his arms under hers and tried to ease her back down on the mattress. __________________________________________________________________ Tempest by Missy Pennington {G}{A}{W} [R] (M&S lost in a plane crash, injured Scully looped on Demerol and a blossoming relationship. And *this* line:) She shook her head. "Nope. Mulder likes women with those long Barbie legs, like Fleabie." He nearly choked. "Who?" "Fleabie. She was his girlfrin once, but there was a fire inna hotel and I hate her." __________________________________________________________________ Ten Reasons by Blackwood {G} [R] (This is one of my favorite stories and this one line gets me everytime. Now it won't look like much taken out of context, but rest assured, when you read the story, it *grabs* you!) "So do I," Mulder's voice murmured beside her. __________________________________________________________________ Territoriality by Donna {G} [PG] "Mulder? You can lean back a little now. He's gone." "What do you mean?" "You know exactly what I mean." __________________________________________________________________ Twelve Beads by Zuffy: {G} [NR] "The summer I was fifteen, Mom sent me to Washington for 'bonding' with my Dad. I spent a lot of time at the Natural History Museum scoping out every damn display of sexual customs I could find. Chastity belts, penis sheaths, Spanish fly, you name it, the case has my nose print on the glass." "You read National Geographic, too, I suppose." "Just for the interviews." __________________________________________________________________ You are here: http://lostandfoundfaq.xphilefic.com/