Title:  Cosmopolitan Woman II

Author:  Autumn

E-mail:  mulders_hunnie@hotmail.com

Rating:  NC-17

Keywords:  Mulder/Scully Romance

Category:  SRH

Spoilers:  None

Disclaimer:  We know the routine!  :::clears throat:::
I do not own Fox William Mulder (in all his adorable
and sexy glory)  or Dana Katherine Scully (with her
all perfect envious curves)  I do not even own those
mysterious and fantastic X-Files.  Instead, Chris
Carter (and his genius mind) along with David
Duchovny, Gillian Anderson, 20th Century Fox and 1013
Productions have the honors!  No infringement
intended.  :)

Author's Notes:  This is a sequel to Cosmopolitan
Woman (Duh!!)  It's advised, although not necessary
that you read the one before.  If you cannot find it,
it will be filed (wink)  under my name (Autumn).  So
if you go to the lovely little search engine you will
find it.  This story, although slightly humorous is
not as much so as Cosmopolitan Woman.  There are a few
more serious issues involved!

Author's Note II:  This is, as nearly always, an NC-17
story.  :::pretends to be coy:::  So in other words,
for those of you who cannot take a hint ... *SCRAM*
if you are underage.  :::smiles sweetly::: thank you
... oh yes, and of course, if you are offended by
sexual themes and ideas ... I advise you to head back
to Toys R Us.  :)

Dedication:  Thanks to all my friends, who will never
read this story.  In approximately 6 weeks, the end
will come for our friendships, and it will basically
be, the end of a memorable era.  Thanks guys - these
past few years, I won't forget.

:::sniffs::: oh well, enough of that.

Date Started:  Monday 25th March.
Date Finished: Thursday 28th March.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Part One
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

According to *this* months' Cosmopolitan,  women
dressing themselves in *red* is all the rage.  But I
suppose that is only relevant to brunettes or blondes
anyway.  It seems, because of my hair color, the shade
the model on page 17 is wearing, would look absolutely
horrendous on me!

Typical!  Wear *that* dress, and paint my nails green
and people will burst into 'Jingle Bells' and probably
dance around me in a circle, believing that, even
though it's April, Christmas had come early.

I find myself chuckling inwardly at the image forming
in my mind.  It was not unusual for me, these days, to
fabricate unbelievable scenarios in my mind.  I've
always been that way.  In these past couple of months,
though ... it's started to get out of hand.  Suddenly
the thoughts my mind conjurers up are down right
ridiculous!

I suppose it's all that getting laid.  Expanding my
mind ... well it's certainly expanded more than my
mind, that's for sure.  I think I'm beginning to walk
around looking like I've a duck stuffed up my ass.
It's starting to feel that way too.

He's got the stamina of a race horse, I'm telling you!
On and on, over and over again.  And by the sixth
session, I just lie limply on the bed, grinning like
an idiot, wishing *he* could be limp, for more than
three fucking seconds.

He's no sooner emptied what feels like a gallon of
sperm into me, and he's ready and rearing to go again.
Of course, by which point, he's fucking me whilst I'm
unconscious,  because this is at about four thirty in
the morning and it's just typical I have a eight
o'clock autopsy scheduled.

God!  The humiliation I felt that morning.  The Chief
Medical Examiner, Roseanne Cray eyed me as though I'd
just walked out of an all night sex orgy.  Believe me,
between my legs *felt* like I had.

I couldn't walk without a stinging sensation shooting
through my womb, my breasts ached from being fondled,
licked, sucked, nipped and chewed on and God knows
what else.  My lips were berry red and swollen from
what I was sure was *thousands* of kisses.  I won't
even get into how my ass felt.

Roseanne had politely, but grudgingly asked if I was
alright.  She was one of those women that mopped up
their own drool when Mulder walked into the room - and
she probably knew he was the reason for my ...
sensitive parts.

Most women hate that time of the month in which they
are cursed with periods.  Well, I am no longer one of
them.  I use those five days to allow myself to
recuperate from the three weeks of nearly solid sex.
I *needed*  those five days.

Which has me thinking ... I was due ... a week and a
half ago ...

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Part Two
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I shoved the magazine advertising the wonders and joys
of red dresses, into my desk and frantically ran my
palm over my forehead, furiously wondering what I
should do.  Mulder, chewing on his pencil, was
unaware.  He *should* have caught unto this!  He knows
my cycle!  He knew it even before we were lovers - and
now that it actually *is* an inconvenience to him, he
should know!

But he doesn't even look up.  I don't suppose he even
notices how my breathing as become harsh.  He probably
think I'm just masturbating under the table or
something.  God no!  I don't *need* that anymore.  Not
when I'm being pounded six ways from Sunday, every
night.

What was I going to do?!  This was dangerous.  If what
I was worried about had happened we would be crossing
a line.  No, scratch that, we'd be crossing a lot more
than *one* line.  It wouldn't just be sex anymore.
Not that I really believe it ever was ... but
sometimes, its safer just to assume that's all it is.

A test!  The idea came to be suddenly, and yet again,
I got another stupid image in my head, of a light bulb
dinging off.  <Go away!>  I snapped at it, grabbing my
purse.  "Hafta go out for a while, Mulder.  Won't be
long."  I trailed on my coat, grabbed my car keys, and
run.

I knew, as I half jumped, half tripped into the
elevator, that Mulder would have been instantly
concerned.  Usually, any other time, I would pause and
take a moment to feel guilty over his confusion and
concern.  But today ... *screw* it!

I was terrified out of my *mind* what might be
happening in my life.  Terrified about that - and
completely furious with myself for taking so long to
realize that I was over a week late!  What would
happen if ...?

I tripped back *out* of the elevator, my gaze
unfocused.  Alyson Maurine glared at me when I
stumbled into her, probably messing her perfectly
styled dyed blonde hair, as she attempted *not* to
fall on the polished tiled floor.

I had an incident with her a few weeks ago.  I guess
she was still mad about it.  Alyson was one of those
people who, like Stephanie, Skinner's secretary, could
do nothing more than grin at a man, and he'd have to
excuse himself to go wank in the bathroom.

It happened in the vending room, the last week in
March.  I was having one of those days where I could
hardly walk from the previous nights' erm ...
exertions.  My underwear irritated sensitive areas -
both above and below the waist.  I felt like I might
be limping in order to relieve the pain.

I was casually minding my own business, eyeing the
vending machine and wondering whether or not I should
splash out on a non-diet Sprite, or just stick with
Diet Coke.  Upon deciding that I wanted neither, and
that a nice cold bottle of water would be much nicer
*and* healthier, I turned to leave.

It was then, I heard her voice, high and more
irritating than my underwear.  At first, I assumed she
were just bitching about some poor defenseless woman
... then I realized it was *me*!
'...apparently Wilson seen the two of them eating
dinner at some swanky Italian place.'  She'd said.
'So it figures they are lovers!  But what does he see
in her?'  I'd been livid.  I remembered Wilson Dickson
sitting a few tables away from us with his wife.  He'd
been amazed when he acknowledged us.  So damn amazed,
that he stared at us for what felt like hours.

Alyson's little friend and side kick, Julie March_ had
been equally as bitchy.  'I know!  I *so* thought he
was hot on you!'  Mulder?  Hot on Alyson??  Where on
Earth did she get that impression?  I didn't dwell on
it, because I didn't believe for one second Mulder
would be doing the dirty on me.

'I know Jules, I thought so too.'  I'd been livid at
this point, but I saw red when she began verbally
bashing me.  'Totally *frigid*!'  She'd exclaimed.
When she said that, irritated genitals or no, I
marched over to her and began yelling.

She'd been humiliated, blushing a furious pink.  I
only *resisted* hitting her when Mulder came looking
for me, and stepped into the vending room, announcing,
unaware, that my brother Charlie had been on the
phone.  He noticed the anger and tears immediately,
and glared at the woman responsible for it.

'Don't look at *me*!'  Alyson said.  '*She* started
it!'  I huffed out in anger, and turned my back,
colliding into the solid wall of my lover.  It seemed
his arms embraced me of their own free will, and I
didn't refuse.

Now though, Alyson was still glaring at me.  "Watch
where you are going!"  She was taller than me, and
towered above me in her high heeled shoes.  But today,
I was in no mood for fighting with her - I knew Mulder
was safely mine.  Would he still be though, if it was
true??

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Part Three
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I hurried into the Drug Store, and up to the counter,
like a tornado with an attitude.  The sales assistant,
middle aged man with stony gray eyes, looked up from
whatever newspaper he was reading, and regarded me
with less than adequate enthusiasm.

I told him what I needed, and he pointed a bony rather
gruesome finger towards the third isle.  "Another one
of you ladies making stupid mistakes?"  He asked,
huffing out in disgust and shaking his newspaper.
Mistake?  Was it?  I mean, if *I* was, was it a
mistake??

"No!"  I said firmly, lifting off a white box with
pink writing on it.  Funny -- they try to make
something so serious look pretty and comforting.
Well, the colorful box didn't make me feel comforted.
I felt scared.

I was deeply offended that anyone would consider it a
mistake.  Especially some Chemist who didn't know me,
and didn't know my lover.  "That'll be ..."  I didn't
even hear how much it cost, I just handed him a twenty
dollar bill.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I suppose it would have been unhygienic to perform the
test at the office, so I turned my car and started
heading towards my apartment.  I was half way there,
my heart drumming unbelievably fast inside my ribcage,
when my phone rang.  <Shit!>  I mentally screamed,
reaching for it.

"Scully."  I said, chiding myself for how shaky my
voice sounded.

"It's me."  He sounded pissed off.  What had I done
now?  Recently, he found more and more reasons to call
me and snap at me.  But I knew, he only wanted to hear
my voice.  That bothered me.  That he'd nit pick, in
order to speak to me.

"Mulder I'm a little busy, at the moment."  I told
him, as kindly as I could.  I hoped, sincerely hoped,
he didn't hear the way my voice was shaking.  "I'll be
back at the office later."

"I won't be there."  He told me, sounding matter of
fact.  I think he heard my raised eye brow, as
unbelievable as that might be.  "My cousin,
Christopher, lives up in Connecticut has just been
involved in an accident.  I have to go up there."  I
sighed in relief.  *That's* why he's annoyed.  Not at
me after all.

"Alright, we call me later then."  He promised he
would, and we hung up.  No words of 'I love yous'.  We
rarely did.  Only when passion reached limits.  My
mind was focused, once again, on my little ... or rather
*big* problem.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I was beyond terrified now.  In fact, I sat dressed in
faded blue sweats and an old Maryland University
sweater, having decided that I wouldn't return to
work, since Mulder was gone.  My arms were looped
around my knees.  I was in the third minute of a ten
minute wait -- and I was shaking.

My mother called, as soon as I arrived home.  She had
only learnt of Mulder and I about three weeks ago, and
I think she was still getting used to the idea.  Bill,
it seemed, was livid.  Oh big surprise!

Mulder left me a message on my phone, and I guessed he
called my apartment five minutes or so *after*
speaking to me on my cell phone.  Just to tell me that
he'd miss me, and he'd forgotten to tell me he loved
me.  It seemed I was wrong about the 'limits of
passion' thing.

I glanced at my watch, just as the hand slid unto the
tenth minute.  I ran over the counter, barely taking
the time to breathe.  I grabbed the little tester
thing, my eyes closed, and when I opened them, a woosh
of air escaped my lungs in a horrible sounding wheeze.

I was having a baby.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Part Four
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I spent, what felt like hours, huddled on my bed,
crying.  I was still undecided about whether or not my
pregnancy was a good or bad thing.  Sure -- I *craved*
a baby, and I craved the love of one.  I really wanted
to be a mother.  But ...  I was still adjusting to this
new found intimacy, and I wasn't sure mine and
Mulder's relationship was ready for this.

Would we be strong enough?  Would he freak out?
Mulder freaked out very easily, and he had this weird
fucked up complex about himself, and felt like
everything was his fault.

I sighed, and flopped over unto my back, running an
almost dubious hand over my stomach, thinking about
the baby growing inside me.  I had to go to
Connecticut.  My news, it just couldn't wait.  This
was important.  I had to tell *someone* and I figured
that someone should be the father.

Things had changed so very much since that first
evening we spent together.  I could still remember it,
as though it were only a moment in my past.  He had me
so nervous that I felt like a virgin.  I really
honestly felt like I was losing my virginity to him
that night.  I endured some incredibly foreplay and
then he made love to me.  Afterward, he carried me
into bed, and we did it again, and when the sun rose
the next morning, he kissed me, long and slowly, and
apologized that he had to leave.

I didn't mind.  I knew he loved me.  Would he still
love me, now?  The idea that he wouldn't made tears
spring to my eyes.  What if ...?

I stumbled from my bed, and began shoving articles,
any articles, of clothing into a bag.  I needed to get
to him.  I needed to know whether or not he wanted
*our* baby.  I needed to know a lot of things.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Mercy Hospital
Rhine Creek
Connecticut
21.45
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The nurse informed me that Christopher Grant was in
room 23.  "He's out of the surgery.  We're keeping him
in the ICU until he recovers."  She told me.  "You
will have to wait until his family leave."

I nodded, turning and moving towards the waiting room.
There was a whole section of rugged old magazines.
The glossy magazines have always been the ones that
have grabbed my attention.  This time, was no
different.  Only this time, it wasn't Cosmopolitan.
It wasn't even Vogue or Glamour.  This time, I was
Baby and I.

I still hadn't fully comprehended the whole situation.
I hadn't wanted to make Mulder aware that I was
coming.  So I called Skinner and asked him where in
Connecticut Christopher lived, and where my partner
had left for.

Just as I reached the article on breast feeding, and
heard the nurse behind me.  "Certainly Agent Mulder.
I'll call you, if there is anymore news.  You go home
and get some rest now, sweetheart."  *Sweetheart*??
That was my lover she was calling sweetheart!

I spun around, dropping the magazine to the table.  It
banged, and since I was the only there, at that time
of night, it grabbed the information of both my baby's
father, and the nurse, who I acknowledged was at
*least* ten years older than him.

"Scully!?"  He gasped, as if not quite believing it.
"What are you doing here?"  I composed myself,
thankful that I had changed into a suit.  I always
felt more confident in a suit.  It was, I suppose,
like a suit of armor.  Mulder just stared at me, as I
folded my arms beneath my breasts.  The nurse, with
her green eyes, glared back at me, as though I'd
interrupted something private, and she didn't like
having me around.

Well screw her!  I was pregnant!  "I need to talk to
you, Mulder."  I told him, hardly taking my eyes of
the feisty geriatric nurse.  Mulder strode across the
room, grasping my elbow and directing me towards a row
of padded coffee stained chairs.  "No."  I said
firmly.  "Not here."

He raised an eye brow at me, and I know he was
concerned now, if not paranoid.  "Come on then."  He
smiled politely, maybe even a little tightly at the
nurse, who was now chewing the end of her pen lid and
watching us over the rims of her glasses.

"Come where?"  I asked, following him towards the
double doors.  I was gazing up at him, wondering where
he was taking me.  I didn't really want to tell him
our news in some flea bitten motel.  I was ... well, I
just think it is more important than that.

"My house."  He said, linking his hand with mine and
dragging me into the elevator.  He sighed, sensing my
confusion.  "When my father died, he left his house to
me.  Well *one* of my houses actually.  The one I am
staying at is one of the nicer ones."

Mulder owns *houses*?  I always thought he only owned
his messy apartment.  If the Mulder family, and their
wealth was anything to go by, I was willing to bet the
houses were pretty extravagant.

The cool air was welcome against my flushed skin.  I
suppose it was my nervousness at the news I was about
to reveal.  Mulder, it seemed, was unaware of my
nervousness, his mind probably still on his seriously
injured cousin, whom he'd *never* mentioned to me.
Two things he'd forgotten to tell me.

We drove into a really nice area of Rhine Creek, and
the houses there would certainly have been adequate to
spend the evening.  I was expecting it to be one of
those houses -- but I was wrong.  Mulder linked his
hand with mine, and entwined our hands.

Finally, he reached the outskirts of town into a dark,
secluded kind of area.  "Mulder?"  I asked, suddenly
very tense and unsure.  "Where are we going?  Where
are you taking me?"  He frowned, as if not
understanding.

"I'm taking you to my house.  I already explained
that, Scully."  He was staring at me as though I'd
lost my mind.  Perhaps I had.  But unless I was very
much mistaken, he'd driven past all the houses fifteen
minutes ago.

"There *are* no houses around here!"  I exclaimed,
gesturing towards the trees outside.  He turned right,
the cars' light shining upon a long lane, or what
might even be called an avenue, because it was fair to
well maintained to be considered just a plain lane.

From the area the beam did hit, I could see pretty
little plants growing.  Tall oak trees lined the road.
"Mulder, what *is* this?"  I asked, averting my gaze
to him.  He shrugged and glanced, unconcerned, at the
neon clock.  "Where *is* the house?"  Perhaps I was
over reacting.

"Hold on Scully,"  He said, almost as impatiently as
I.  "There,"  He removed his hand from my now limp
one, and pointed towards the house before us.  I
gasped.  I really did.

This wasn't a house.  It was a mansion!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Part Five
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Perhaps mansion was a slight exaggeration.  But it was
definitely huge.  I couldn't even begin to describe
it.  The drive way spread out to a large semi circular
area that curved around the house.  I heard gravel
crunch beneath the tires of our car.

"Unfortunately, I'm sensing you are impressed."
Mulder said, killing the engine, and reaching across
to close my mouth.  "It's nothing really.  It was
bought with blood money.  I don't really want it."  I
sounded like a spoilt little child.  But I knew it was
more than that.

But regardless, I *was* impressed.  The front rooms,
two of them, had extremely wide bay windows, and I
noticed the ones above them did too.  Between the two
upstairs ones, was another, with French doors that
opened out into a balcony with wrought iron railings.

"Come on, Scully."  Mulder said, opening the car door
and swinging out.  "Lets get inside, and then you can
explain what's going on."  I nodded, stepping out too.
From here, on this hill, I could see *everything* and
it took my breath away.

The neighborhood, in what I now acknowledged as a
valley, shone bright in the late evening.  Beyond the
glowing lights of life, was endless darkness, and I
knew, in the day, the view would be beautiful.

Stepping into the home that belonged now, to Fox
Mulder, I gasped.  The foyer alone was probably bigger
than my entire living room.  The floor was tiled in
small red tiles that I knew were common to homes in
San Francisco.  To the right, a dark black, wrought
iron stair case spiraled to the first floor.

"Mulder ... it's beautiful."  I told him, he shrugged
off both his coat and the compliment.  "No really!
Look!"  I pointed to the living room, all comfortable
terracotta's.

"Why don't you look around and I'll make some tea,
then we can talk."  I was contented to do that,
feeling for a moment, the dread washing over me:  I
still had to tell him about the pregnancy.

The living room sparked my interest once again, and I
stepped into the huge room.  I noticed Mulder's suit
cases lying by the large sofa, and remembered that I'd
have call back to the motel tomorrow and collect my
things.

A large solid oak coffee table dominated the center of
the room.  Beyond that, was a huge fire place, also
wooden, that was carved in the most beautiful of ways.
Immediately, I admired the craftsmanship of it.  The
only light, was a tall lamp burning in the corner.

I still couldn't believe my lover owned this place!  I
also couldn't believe he didn't like it.  I wondered,
briefly, if it was because he didn't have much of a
relationship with his family.  I suppose the thought
of them disgusted him.

Teena was one of those stuck up bitches, who spent
most of her son's up bringing as a cold and reserved
witch.  Bill, well, he spent *all* of his son's
childhood as a drunkard.  It still surprised me how
Mulder managed to be so loving and kind.

"Coffee!"  He called, hurrying into the living room,
carrying two mugs.  I could have sworn I seen his nose
crinkle in disgust.  "It's de-caf.  That's all there
is.  The house keeper, Louisa, she only drinks
decaffeinated."  He shrugged apologetically, and I
found myself breathing a sigh of relief.  No coffee
for me, anymore.

"So,"  He began, flipping on another lamp, and bathing
us in more light.  "What are you doing here?"  I took
the seat he gestured to, and realized now was the time
I would have to tell him.  "Scully?"  It was obvious I
had a nervous expression painted on my face.

"Uhh, yeah, right,"  I said hastily, setting the cup
down and wringing my hands like a soaked cloth.  They
were sweating, and *felt* like a soaked rag.  I knew
Mulder's mind would be on over-drive.  He probably
thought I was going to dump him, or something.
"Remember I left work early, today?"  I began.  He
nodded, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his
knees, the mug of coffee hanging between his legs.

I was often struck, at the most inopportune times,
with how sexy Mulder actually is.  Tonight, he is
wearing ass hugging Levis, and a olive green sweater.
I can't concentrate with him looking so damn good!

I sighed.  "I was sitting in work, thinking about
things ... and I realized that ..."  Mulder leaned
forward, prompting me to continue.  "I realized that
my period was over a week late."  I knew the second I
said this, he would be able to connect the dots.  It
seems I was correct.

"Are you trying to tell me ...?"  He asked, setting his
cup on the large coffee table.  I inhaled deeply and
released a shaky breath, and nodded.

"Yes.  I'm pregnant."  I heard him gasp, as though
actually confirming was a shock on it's own.  I sat
there, nervously twitching my thumbs and fingers,
watching him watching me.  "Erm ...?"  I began,
shrugging slightly.  Then he stood, and rushed over to
me, gathering me into a huge bear hug.

"Dana ... Dana ..."  He was saying, his nose buried in my
neck.  "This is ... whoa ... it's absolutely amazing!"  He
was ... happy?!  I couldn't believe it!  Mulder was
glad!  My arms curled around him, of their own accord,
and I leaned into him, feeling tears well up in my
eyes with happiness, as I realized this wasn't the end
for us.

After a while, he moved back, and framed my face with
his hands, gazing into my eyes with an expression of
love and passion and ardency that almost frightened me
in it's intensity.  "My baby is really growing in
there?"  He asked and I found myself smirking at him,
despite his awe.

"No!  Of course not!"  I said, ruffling his hair and
slipping out of the chair, collecting our barely
touched mugs of coffee.  "I still have to inform the
father about it."  He stood up so quickly, he nearly
stumbled over the coffee table.

"Is that so?"  He asked, following me as I moved
briskly towards the kitchen.  "And how *is* this
miracle baby's father?"  I smiled sweetly at him,
turning on the light and pouring the luke-warm liquid
down the drain.

"Why, Walter, of course."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Part Six (NC-17)
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Mulder grabbed me around the waist and pulled me to
him, pressing us together.  "Walter?  As in Walter
Skinner?"  I nodded, looping my arms around his neck
and standing on tip toe to press butterfly kisses to
his lips, and nose and eye lids.  "And when did this
night of steamy passion between you and our boss
occur?"  He asked, in between kisses.

"Hmm ..."  I hummed contentedly, as he began running his
hand over me.  "Who said it was only ..."  I gasped as
he pressed an open mouthed suckle to the column of my
throat.  "...one night?"  I finished, and his laughter
vibrated through his chest.  "You're not believing
this for a second, are you?"  I asked, leaning into
him as his fingers stroked the sides of my breasts.

"Not one bit."  He replied, his hands moving again, to
tangle in my disheveled travel abused hair.  I really
wanted to make him panic now.  Really, *really* wanted
to.  If I could just get him a *little* suspicious.
Maybe not about the baby.  But about Skinner.

"So alright ... I doubt Skinner is the baby's father.  I
mean ..."  I teased his spine with the tips of my
fingers, feeling him shudder against me.  "What
happened between him and I ... was agggees ago."  My
drawled in his ear, clamping my lips over his ear lobe
and licking it slightly.

"W..what thing?"  He asked, his tone probably still a
little disbelieving.  My fingers tightened in his
hair, like his had done in mine.  I loved his feeling.
Being so close to him.  His erection was pressed
against my stomach, and I was incredibly aroused by
it, poking insistently against the sensitive skin.

"After the ..."  He was backing me up against the
counter now, and I knew his intentions.  "...incident
with the prostitute in ...'95 ..."  I was gasping again,
but I knew I had his attention, despite the kisses he
was still applying to my skin.  "I was so turned on
that he would <gasp> fuck some stranger <gasp>  and I
mean ... Skinner *is* a rather stronger and <gasp> sexy
man ..."  Mulder had unbuttoned my jacket now, and was
fondling my breasts.  "So after the case ... I asked him
if he wanted to go out for a <gasp> drink."  Mulder's
lips had clamped around my erect nipple, despite the
silk shirt and bra.

"We drank a little ... and talked <gasp>.  It turns out,
he's actually a really nice guy!"  This last bit was
yelled out, as his teeth bit down on me.  I felt a
wave of moisture flood between my thighs.  "He invited
me back to his place ..."  I drew him up to me, brought
my lips to his ear and ran my tongue over the shell,
hearing him groan and thrust into me.  "...and I fucked
him."

Mulder declined back, shock and worry registering on
his face.  "You ... *slept* with Skinner?"  He asked,
his hands falling off me altogether.  I knew I had him
now, and I ran my hand over the bulge in his pants,
smiling enigmatically at him.

"Mulder ..."  I said, looping my fingers into his belt
loops and pulling him towards me.  I was sitting on
the counter now, my legs spread, and his cock hit me,
right where I was currently sensitive.  "Stop acting
so stupid, and make love to me."

He smirked at me, and I felt an almost overwhelming
sense of love, of this man.  "Is having sex okay?"  He
asked, looking down at my stomach.  I nodded
enthusiastically.  "Aren't we keen!"  He chuckled,
unbuttoning my blouse with a quickness that almost
shocked me.

"*We* being the operative word, Fox Mulder!"  I said,
laughing, whilst reaching for his belt.  He pressed
his lips to mine, whispered 'so horny' against my
mouth, making me chuckle.  I'd been horny ever since I
met the man!

Removing his jeans and boxers in one swift motion, I
took a moment to revel in how large he was.  The first
time we had sex, I was amazed that such a large length
could fit inside me.  Later, he admitted that he was
worried, because my body was so much smaller.  Funny,
he doesn't seem to worry much anymore.

I pulled off his t-shirt and stared at the gloriously
naked and extremely beautiful body of my lover.  I
liked that word; Lover.  It fitted him perfectly.  He
looked just like a lover -- in my opinion.

"I'm sensing a little unfairness, here, Scully."  He
told me, gesturing towards my still clothed form.  I
hummed low in my throat, as he grasped me through my
pants, making me wriggle towards him, seeking the feel
of him.

I helped him finish undressing me, and found my body
respond heavily to the way his lips kissed each new
patch of uncovered skin.  By the time he finished
pulling my pants off, I was virtually on the brink of
orgasm -- from *kisses* alone!

"Mulder ..."  I breathed, feeling certain I was soaking
the counter with my arousal.  I don't think he noticed
or cared.  I hoped Bill Mulder's ghost didn't haunt
this house -- for if it did ... he was going to witness
his son fucking his pregnant partner, senseless, in
his kitchen, pretty soon.

The first time Mulder and I ever had sex, he'd used
his fingers to stimulate me in the most wonderful of
ways.  Since then he'd found my other ways to bring me
to shuddering climaxes.  His favorite, and probably
mine, was when he used his tongue.

I could still remember the first time he suggested he
do it:  We'd just got out of the shower, and he'd put
me on counter, much like I was now, and was drying me
with a downy cotton towel.  "Umm ... Scully?"  He was
drying my torso and was getting near to the point
where he'd have to dry between my legs.

I'd nodded my head, humming contentedly.  "You know
cunnilingus?"  I giggled loudly, opening my eyes and
finding he was staring up a me, his eye-brows raised
in confusion.

"How technical Mulder, it's so unlike you."  My legs
were draped over his shoulders at this point, and I
knew he could see I was already wet for him.  "Yes,
Mulder, what about *cunnilingus*?"  He was kissing my
thighs, and his stubble scratched me.

"I want to do it, on you."  Before I could object at
how much he might not like it, his lips tightened
around my clitoris, and I screamed out.  Literally
*screamed*.  He'd taken me by such surprise, that
within half a minute of his oral assault, I came,
right there, in his mouth.

Now, sitting here, on a different counter, I sensed
he was going to perform the same thing.  He was
breathing on me, and he felt so hot against my
moisture.  "Mulder ..."  I said, tangling my fingers in
his beautiful chestnut hair.  "No ... I need you inside
me ... now."  He raised his eyes, lifting his hands and
thumbing my achingly hard nipples.

He stood, the large, erect length of him resting
against my thigh as he braced his hands on my hips.
"Now!"  I yelled, linking my ankles behind his thighs
and forcing him inside me.  Both of us let out a gasp
of delightful appreciation at being joined this way.

"God ... Scully ... after all this time, you *still* feel
so good."  I smiled a little, arching my hips,
forcing him in deeper.  "You are so incredibly
beautiful ..."  He told me, before dipping his head and
sucking roughly on my nipple until it was almost
painful.

"Harder!"  I told him, not sure whether I meant my
breasts or him moving in and out of me.  It seemed he
didn't know either, and applied pressure on both.
One hand snaked down over my thigh and between our
bodies, pressing hard on my clit.  "Ahhhh!"  I
screamed, bucking in him shamelessly.  He made me
lose control so easily.

"That's right sweetheart,"  He whispered against my
breast.  "Come for me."  His words, spoken so
passionately against me, almost pushed me over the
edge.  When he ground his thumb into my clit once
again, I was undone, and screamed until my throat
hurt, whilst my muscles tightened around him.

"Muuuulllddeer!"  I was breathing heavily in his
neck, and I realized he hadn't come yet.  I felt
immediately guilty, for losing myself in my own
euphoria and forgetting about him.  I declined back
and watched him, motionless within me.  He was
gorgeous.  His hair stuck to his forehead, his eyes
hazy with passion.

I slipped off him, and he slid out of me, grunting at
losing my heat.  I gently pressed on his shoulders,
forcing him to the beautifully tiled floor.  This
would be easier for us.

He lay back, wincing at the coolness against his
fevered skin.  "Relax."  I told him, straddling him,
and allowing him to slip back inside me.  "I want you
to come."  From this position, he could fondle my
breasts whilst I attempted to relieve him of his
pain.  I lifted myself and sank down on him, before
beginning to ride him.  Fast and furious.  I needed
him to come.  I *needed* to know we were both
satisfied.

His pubic bone was grinding against my clit and I was
instantly aroused again.  "God ..."  He was panting.
"Fuck!  Scully!  Fuck me!"  I reached behind me, and
took his balls in my hand, squeezing them, whilst
riding him.  "More!  Harder!  Faster!"  He was
demanding, pinching my nipples roughly.  "Yessss!"  I
felt his cock expand a little and a surge of gushing
warmth explode inside me as he released white hot cum
into me.

I bent down and kissed him softly.  "You're mine, Fox
Mulder."  I told him, nibbling on his tongue.  "You
hear?  If I have to piss on your leg and mark my
territory, you're *mine*!"  He laughed at the image I
created and kissed me again.

"No need to piss on me, Scully."  He insisted.  "I've
been yours for longer than you'll ever know."  I
smiled at him, knowing he wasn't lying.  "We need to
get cleaned up."  He told me, standing and yanking me
to my feet.  I winced, between my legs, once again,
sensitive.

"We need to make an appointment and go see a doctor
about the pregnancy."  I said, gathering our
discarded clothes.  Mulder released a shaky breath
and pulled me into his arms.

"We're going to have a baby?"  He asked again, and
like last time, I ruffled his hair, and pressed
another kiss to his lips.

"Yes, Mulder.  We're going to have a baby."

END

Another finished!  Woohoo!  I'm sorry if this one
didn't have as much humor in it as the last.  But
it's *very* hard to make a joke and take the piss out
of a pregnant woman.  Today is ... erm ... 28th March
2002, and once again it's taken me *ages* (four days)
to write this!  But remember:  BEEN BUSY!!

Let me know what you think!!  Feedback is ALWAYS
appreciated and I reply to ALL mail :)

That's All Folks!

Autumn
XxXxXxXx
:::waves:::