TITLE: Show Me AUTHOR: ArtemisX5 EMAIL ADDRESS: artemisx5@hotmail.com CATEGORY: V RATING: NC-17 SUMMARY: There's some flirting. Then there's some anxiety. Then smut. TIMESPAN/SPOILER WARNING. Anytime after 'Arcadia.' KEYWORDS: Scully POV, MSR, smut DISCLAIMER: Once there was a fanfic writer who had no money and intended no harm to CC, 1013, GA or DD. AUTHOR'S NOTES: Smut biscuit!!! No excuses, none needed. Pull up a chair and satisfy your basest urges. Muchas gracias to Robin for inspiring me with our mutual love of Broadway. Who would have thought 'My Fair Lady' would lead to smut? As ever, I am in debt to Rafferty and sallie for bringing me back to the straight and narrow when I have wandered into the woods. FEEDBACK: Leads to more smut. How can you go wrong? ************************************** Words, words, words! I'm so sick of words! ************************************** I grope for the phone in the dark. "Hello?" "Scully, it's me." Of course it is. No one else calls me when I'm sleeping. "What is it, Mulder?" "I can't sleep." "So you assumed I would be awake?" "Oh, I'm sorry...were you sleeping?" I sigh. No need to cause another round of Mulder self-flagellation. "No." "Good. Are you watching The Sci-Fi channel?" "No. I'm in bed." "Ooh. What are you wearing?" Oh brother. It's going to be one of these calls. "Chain mail and a chastity belt." "Kinky, Scully. I didn't know." I am very glad I didn't turn on the light for this call. I'm even more glad I didn't open my eyes so I can't tell what time it is. "Seriously, Mulder, what do you want?" "Just talk to me. I can't fall asleep." "Are you on the couch or in your bed?" "Why?" "I'm trying to help here, Mulder." "Then why don't you come over and we can curl up like a couple of baby cats." If his voice didn't sound like a French kiss, I swear I'd hang up. "Kittens, Mulder. Baby cats are called kittens." "Either way. I'm flexible." I bet. "If I was there right now..." He cuts me off, "You'd what? Tell me." "Hit you over the head with the butt of my gun and knock you unconscious." "Ouch." "At least you'd be sleeping." "So you're coming over, then?" If I thought you were ever serious, Mulder.... "No. I'm hanging up the phone." "No, don't." He sounds so earnest I can't deny him. "What?" "I miss you." What? "What?" "I miss listening to you breathe while you sleep. We've been on the road together too much, and I can't sleep without you." Not one of those calls after all. "We sleep in separate rooms." "But I know you're there." "I'm here now." "But you could..." "What?" "You could...have company or something." "In bed?" As soon as the words leave my mouth I realize that I have been alone for too long. "People do that, Scully." He is teasing me; I can hear his smile. "I know that, Mulder." "I don't know, you sounded awfully shocked, Scully. I'd even say scandalized." "You know, I could have...company...while we're on assignment, too." "I'd be able to hear you." Mmm. Would that bother you, Mulder? "That's not the point." "What are you really wearing, Scully?" "A biohazard suit." "Do you want to know what I'm wearing?" "Not really." "I wouldn't tell you anyway." "Yes you would." "Try me." "Now you'll refuse just to spite me." "Try me." "Mulder, are you getting sleepy yet?" "Not really." I can hear rustling sounds on his end. "What are you doing?" "My feet are all tangled up in the sheets." "You're in bed?" I can't keep the surprise out of my voice. "So are you." "I'm just surprised." "I sleep in my bed sometimes, Scully." "On what side?" I don't know why I asked. "Scully!" He sounds delighted. "I'm just curious what side you choose after sleeping on the couch for so long." "The right." I look at the empty space on my right. Interesting. "And you're on the left," he continues. "How do you know?" "Remember all that time on the road? I know which side of your sheets are messed up." "So you're why they put the 'I' in 'FBI.'" He laughs and I feel a shiver. Something about his laugh always gives my body a wake-up call. "Scully, what are you wearing?" "None of your business." "I bet you're not wearing anything. All those silk pajamas are just for show. You sleep au natural at home." "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" "The image alone would heat my apartment for the winter." Yow. He's playing a heavy hand tonight. "I could have you hauled in on sexual harassment charges, Mulder." "I know." "And that doesn't scare you?" "What are you wearing, Scully?" "A lime green sweat suit." "Lime green?" "You asked." I am starting to feel too warm under the blankets. I squirm my legs to the cooler, unoccupied side of the bed. "I did." He sighs. "I bet you look cute." "I'm not wearing a lime green sweat suit." "What are you wearing?" I shaved this morning and my legs feel all smooth and alive as I shift beneath the sheets. "Mulder, why do you care?" "I like to picture you when we talk." "Why?" He doesn't answer, breathing unevenly in the silence. I know why he wants to know. He's so visual. I'm more tactile, so I can live on remembered touches. Eyes closed and concentrating, I can almost conjure up his presence. "Mulder?" "Yeah, I'm here." "Can you sleep yet?" I already know the answer. "No." Neither of us have anything to say for a while. I press my hand against my abdomen, listening to his restless movements. "How long has it been, Scully?" he asks, taking my breath away. "Since when?" "Since we started talking tonight." "Oh." "Why? What did you think I meant?" "I didn't know." "So, how long?" "I'm not sure. I've had my eyes closed." "Mmm. Scully, what are you wearing?" "I'm not gonna tell you." "Why not?" "I'm sure whatever you're picturing right now is more interesting than reality, anyway." "Scully, I'm insulted. How can you insinuate that I would think of you in any way outside of the professional context?" "All right, Mulder. What am I wearing?" "Black. Donna Karan. Two-piece..." "A suit? You're imagining me in a suit?" "Did I say it was a suit?" "Mulder!" "You asked." "That doesn't sound like a very professional context to me." "Depends on your profession." To hell with it. He's made his bed and he can damn well lay in it. "A navy blue camisole and matching shorts." He stops breathing. "What did you say?" "You heard me." "Silk?" he whispers. "Satin." "Want me to tell you what I'm wearing?" "No, Mulder." "Why not?" "Show me." "Scully..." "Show me." "Now?" "Mulder..." "Oh God, Scully. What are you asking me to do?" "Show me." I stretch out my hand to hang up the phone and at the last minute I swear I can hear him say, "Okay." ***************************************** Haven't your lips longed for my touch? Don't say how much, show me! ***************************************** What have I done? I reach for the phone, but stop myself. No. Not this time. He's not getting an out this time. He wants to play hardball, we'll play hardball. Oh, bad choice of words. I throw the covers off and leap out of bed. Now what? Oh God. I look around the room for answers that are not to be found. What have I done? How long will it take him to get here? Is he seriously coming? I should call him back and tell him I was joking. Why hasn't he called me back to check if I was joking? Oh my God. What am I going to do until he shows up? What if he doesn't show up? My knees buckle and I sit on the edge of the bed. I just invited Mulder over to have sex. Didn't I? Did I? What exactly did I say? Oh my God. Should I clean up? I should clean up. At least the living room. Right? No! Stop that! What am I doing? I pick up the phone and dial the first six numbers of his home phone before hanging up again. What have I done? I huff into my palm and try to catch the scent of my own breath. Maybe I should brush my teeth. In the bathroom I brush my teeth with my right hand and try to comb my hair with my left. I look mildly insane in the mirror and I realize that I should call him back. Why hasn't he called me back? Oh God. I run back to the bedroom and press my face into the exposed sheets. When did I change these? Should I change the bedding now? What if he got here and I was making the bed? What if I changed the sheets and Mulder never showed up? I should call and see if he's waiting for me to call him back to tell him I was joking. But what if he is waiting and I've already brushed my teeth in case he's coming? I'll feel like an idiot. Should I change? I look down at my sleeping attire. No, no, I told him I was wearing this and he'll be expecting it. If he comes. Do I have anything nicer I could put on? Do I have any condoms? I drop to my knees in front of the nightstand and raid the drawers. Books I never finished, some old letters, and stamps that the Post Office doesn't even carry anymore. The vibrator Melissa bought me for my 25th birthday. I should hide that. No time. No condoms. I rush back to the bathroom and ransack the cabinets and drawers. Nothing, nothing, nothing. A Today Sponge? Did I use those? How old is this one? God, I used to have sex in... This expired in 1993? Oh my God. I don't have any condoms. Does Mulder have any? Oh God. I throw the sponge in the wastebasket, but it's very obvious in there. I fish it back out and carry it into the kitchen where the garbage is under the sink. Do I have anything in the fridge? Cottage cheese, yogurt, some lettuce and bread. Condiments. What are you doing? What are you going to do about birth control? Doesn't matter, he's not coming. But what if he does? Wait! Stock still in the kitchen, I realize: I can't get pregnant. And Mulder's clean. I ought to know, I ran his last blood work myself. I'm clean too. Oh God. I've never had sex without protection. What have I done? A gentle knock at the door. What have I done? ****************************************** Don't talk of love lasting through time. Make me no undying vows! Show me now! ****************************************** I took the coward's way out. I ran back to my bedroom and slid into the tousled blankets, heart thudding. I give a few futile kicks at the covers, trying to straighten them, but his key in the lock stills me. He's here. He's outside the door. For a long moment I am convinced that he is going to turn around and run home. A little part of me wants him to do just that. The rest of me is screaming in silent want. Except a little sliver of my brain that wonders if I should have put panties on under my shorts. "Scully..." His voice invades the quiet of my bedroom. Even back-lit from the light in the hall I can see how hesitant he is. If I remained still right now he would leave, assuming I was asleep. He rocks back, ready to turn and go. I feel sharp disappointment pierce my heart and I know I have to be the brave one. I reach out for his hand and he steps into the room to take it. He looks terrified. I feel the same. "Scully, we don't have to--" "Shh." I sit up and pull the zipper on his sweatshirt open and sweep it off his shoulders. It falls in a heap at his feet. He is wearing pajama pants that look suspiciously like blue hospital scrubs and nothing else. "So that's what you're wearing." "Scully." He traces the strap of my camisole from one shoulder, across the low neckline and up to the other shoulder. "God, you're so beautiful." "Mulder, you don't have to say that." He looks wounded. "But you are." "It doesn't matter." "But I'm not here because--" I cut him off. "I know why you're here. I feel the same way." "I want to tell you." "I know." I pull him closer and press my lips to the hollow just under his collarbone. I feel a tremor ripple through him and his hands come to rest tentatively on my shoulders. "Scully, I've wanted--" "No, Mulder. Don't tell me. I already know. You tell me every day. Show me." Mulder in silence is Mulder out of his element. He wants to lay claim to this act with words and definitions and I'm not going to let him. All we've had for years is words and it's gotten us nowhere. It's time for silence...and action. I slip my hand around the back of his neck and pull him down toward me. He gives in and we lie back as one. His warm skin melts my heart. He is propped above me on his elbows and I twine my legs around his, tilting my pelvis up to meet his. His lips are soft and warm and everything I had ever hoped for. He is hesitant; I can sense the tension in him. Come on, Mulder, don't make me do all the work. Looking at his face in the dim light from the hall, I can see the turmoil in his eyes. I am killing him with this silence. He can wait a little longer. I take my time kissing him and touching every part of his exposed skin. He's hot and smooth and strong and soft, and tastes like I imagine sex-flavored ice cream would taste. The soft fabric of his pants feels like feathers to my smooth legs. I am collecting enough sensation to last me a lifetime. He can't help responding to me; kisses and gentle sucking on my neck and the slow rock of his hips spur me on. I feel undeniably sexy. I begin a slow orbit with my own hips in perfect counter-point to his rhythm. I should have known we would work this way. I should have done this earlier. He sinks his teeth into my shoulder gently with a sigh, raising goosebumps down my arms. Although his body seems in complete agreement with mine, I still sense his hesitation. I know what he wants. "Go ahead, Mulder. Tell me." But he doesn't. He seems satisfied with the knowledge that I'll let him. Gripping my shoulders, he rolls us over then draws one of my knees up. My satin shorts will never be the same; I have soaked them through. My clit is pressed tightly against Mulder's erection as we continue our languorous rotations. I am starting to sweat all over and it's never felt so good. His hands roam over my satin-covered bottom and underneath my top. As his palms draw closer to my breasts, I still my hips, waiting. I have not been touched there in years. He covers my breasts with his palms as if warming them. I am already on fire, so I roll my shoulders to encourage movement. He outlines the underside of each breast with his fingertips and my nipples tighten. I can hear quiet whimpering sounds that I suspect are coming from me, but I am concentrating on feeling every inch of my skin right now so I can't be sure. His fingertips finally graze my nipples and I moan. Oh God, don't ever stop. My hips begin moving of their own accord and I know that I am going to come tonight, one way or another. He brings one hand up to draw me down for a kiss. I groan my pleasure into his mouth while he assaults my senses. A pleasure akin to pain in its intensity gathers into a hot ball in my belly. I am feral, digging my nails into his shoulders while he teases my nipples and our hips grind together like millstones. My breathing sounds like a freight train and I know that I am not going to last much longer. "Oh God, Mulder...oh..." I gasp, "...yes, I'm gonna- - huh, huh! M-Muld...Muh-huh-hulder, oh God!" Suddenly he lifts my hips away from his with firm hands. I am hovering at the brink, gasping for air and feeling the first twinge of orgasm pinching deep down in my abdomen. "Oh God, what are--what are you doing?" I thrust against his grasp, trying to reestablish contact. My arms are made of pins and needles; I need to take a deep breath but I can't. "Please, Mulder. Please!" "Scully." His voice only makes me fight harder for that last precious touch. I open my eyes, pleading in silence for salvation. He guides me instead to the mattress beside him and goes to work removing my clothes. His thumb grazes my clit as he strips my shorts down and I jolt like I was struck by lightning. "Mulder, please!" I am going to hyperventilate if he doesn't finish what he started. He divests himself of clothing and then he's kneeling between my parted thighs, staring at me with wild eyes. "Please," I breathe. "Scully, I love you," he growls. I feel his erection poised just outside my entrance. "Show me!" I beg and he does. The first thrust is all I need to see stars. I let out a wordless cry that probably scares my neighbors. When I can hear again, Mulder's voice fills my ears at last. "Oh God, Scully! Oh God, you're so perfect...you feel so good! Oh Christ...Oh Scully, oh Scully...." I punctuate his comments with encouragement: "Yes," and "I know," and "Oh, Mulder." I draw my knees up to let him thrust deeper. He squeezes his eyes shut, grunting. His breath sounds almost like sobbing. It is a sound I will forever associate with ecstasy. "Help me, Scully," he groans finally. He is covered in sweat and breathing raggedly. I run my hands over his heaving chest, feeling his heart pounding. I lock my ankles behind him and pull him tightly against my thighs. "I love you," I whisper. He throws his head back and gives three hard thrusts. I very nearly follow him into another orgasm but it's too much for me and we collapse together, panting. He is heavy and I don't care. I would cease to breathe of my own free will if I could hold Mulder in my arms like this for the rest of my days. He comes to life, leaving wet kisses on my neck as he hauls his head up to look at me. "Hi." "Hi yourself," I smile. "So you like my outfit?" I giggle and his eyes roll back in his head. My inner muscles are squeezing him with every syllable of laughter. "It's nice." "I love you," he breathes. "I know." "That's not the answer I was looking for." "Okay. Thank you." "That's not it either." "Thank you anyway." "For what?" "For showing me. You've been telling me for years, and it was getting harder and harder to believe you." "You weren't exactly forth-coming, yourself, Dr. Scully." "You're here aren't you?" "So, do you sleep in the nude, Scully?" "I could learn, Mulder. With the right encouragement." He manages a relatively dignified dismount and curls up behind me, scooping me into his arms like a teddy bear. "See? Just like little baby cats." "We're going to the children's library in the morning, so you can check out some books about baby animals." "Does that mean I'm staying the night?" "Well, you went to all this trouble to get here..." "Cold?" he asks, tugging the blankets over us. "I'm good. Someone once told me that the best way to stay warm is skin-to-skin contact." "I love you." "Good." "Scully," he whines. "I love you, too, Mulder." "I know." ******************************************** fin ******************************************* For those of you who are curious, here are the words to the song 'Show Me' from 'My Fair Lady.' Words, words, words! I'm so sick of words! I get words all day through, First from him now from you! Is that all you blighters can do? Don't talk of stars burning above If you're in love, show me! Tell me no dreams filled with desire If you're on fire, show me! Here we are together in the middle of the night Don't talk of spring, just hold me tight Anyone who's ever been in love will tell you that This is no time for a chat! Haven't your lips longed for my touch? Don't say how much, show me! Show me! Don't talk of love lasting through time. Make me no undying vows! Show me now! Sing me no song, read me no rhyme Don't waste my time, show me! Don't talk of June. Don't talk of fall Don't talk at all. Show me! Never do I ever want to hear another word. There isn't one I haven't heard. Here we are together in what ought to be a dream, Say one more word and I'll scream! Haven't your arms hungered for mine? Please don't explain. Show me! Show me! Don't wait until wrinkles and lines Pop out all over my brow. Show me now!