TITLE: Body and Soul AUTHOR: PD DISCLAIMER: Mulder and Scully aren't mine. I'm just borrowing them from that guy, Chris, that dude, David and that chick, Gillian. ;) The Guy,the Dude and the Chick own them Body and Soul. CLASSIFICATION: VRH, UST Drenched MSR :) RATING: PG-13 for sexual imagery SPOILERS: Nada ARCHIVAL: Maaaaaay-be SUMMARY: Scully's hungry. Mulder shops for dessert and tampons. Scully pouts in a really intriguing way and brushes up on her Susan Lucci impression. Mulder contemplates his various fantasies and The SexFork. AUTHOR'S NOTE: You know, I'm coming dangerously close to the line that I promised myself I would not cross. Perhaps I've become bolder with the new year. Who knows? Perhaps I'll cross it. ---- > Maybe I'll just stand next to it for a while. Huge thank yous to all those who've sent me feedback. I'm all agog. Keep those cards and letters coming. pdryder@earthlink.net ************************************************** Body and Soul By PD ************************************************** Dana Scully awoke to the insatiable desire for fried eggs, bacon and crispy hash browns. She laid a forearm over her eyes and smiled in that blissful state somewhere between sleep and 'ok, ok, I'm up already!'. She heard bacon sizzling and licked her lips. That was all it took. 'Big, Unhealthy Breakfast', her mind supplied and she opened her eyes. Rain. It was raining outside. She felt a warm hand trail up her thigh and land on her belly. She laid her hand over it. "Mmphhh," said Mulder. "Mm hm." Mulder opened one eye to correctly identify to whom he was speaking. Ah, Scully. Could have been, oh, let's see... Mulder went through an incredibly short list of women in his head. All of them were Scully. He smiled and pulled her closer. "It's raining," she said. "OK." "I thought it was bacon." Mulder opened his eyes and scrutinized the woman next to him. Her eyes were closed. Her hair had that fly-away, hair-bumpy look that made him want to giggle. He never dared. Not that Scully couldn't appreciate a good bed head. God knows, she was familiar with his. However she did intone once that while on him it looked good - sort of a rumpled ex-baseball player kind of thing _ on her it looked positively ghoulish. At least, that's what she thought. Mulder kissed her shoulder and nuzzled her bicep. "You smell sleepy." "I want bacon."Nothing ventured, nothing gained. "Your hair is cute this morning." "Are you hungry? I'm hungry." Mulder threw his leg over her body and sat up, straddling her waist. Scully pushed at his stomach as he settled down on his knees. "Mulder. You're heavy." "I thought you liked that." "Post sex, Mulder." Her small hands pushed and prodded at his belly. "Not pre." "Who said this is pre?" He grinned and leaned over to kiss her. "Mm. No morning sex, Mulder? This relationship is going straight to hell." "I'll pack us a bag." She slapped him once, lightly on his thigh and pushed him off. "Come on, Mulder-mine. Get up." She rolled out of bed and shrugged into her robe. "What about sex and the hell thing?" "Later. I'm starving," she tossed back over her shoulder. Mulder sighed and glanced down at his nether regions. With a salute to the lone soldier in formation, he rolled out of bed as well. When he stumbled into the kitchen, Scully was inspecting the interior of the refrigerator, considering the options. Grapefruit. Wheat toast. Yogurt. Blech. She closed the door and turned to face Mulder, a pout on her lips. "I want bacon." "OK." The pout threatened to turn her face inside out. "No bacon?" Scully shook her head like a five year old who didn't want a brand new balloon - she wanted the one floating away into oblivion. Mulder sighed. Ever since they had taken this fork of their relationship - TheSex Fork, he reminded himself for his own amusement - Scully had developed an uncanny ability for theatrics. It seemed that being in love brought out the Susan Lucci in her. He felt sure that she wouldn't win any awards either. But it was awfully cute. Scully sniffed once for effect and stepped forward into his arms. "I'm so hungry." "You sound like Oliver Twist, Scully." "Will you go to the store?" There it is. Mulder smiled to himself. Her voice goes up an octave. The little catch to elicit pity. She would only do this with someone she trusts. It was a warm reminder to him that she only did this around him. He also knew too well that she knew exactly what she was doing and that she knew that he knew exactly what she was doing. And that he knewthat she knew that he - They knew each other so well. He stroked her hair. "What should I get?" She raised her eyes to his and grinned, a twinkle in her eyes. She kissed him in the center of his chest. "I'll make a list." She squeezed him around the waist. Mulder smiled. "Shall I get you a pen and paper?" "No. That I can do myself." She released him and slipped into the living room. Mulder dressed. As he was pulling on his tennis shoes, Scully floated into the bedroom and plopped down next to him on the bed, pen and paper in hand. Mulder peered at the list. "Starting that novel, Scully?" "I though maybe you could shop for dinner, too. I mean as long as you're out there." He toyed with a smile. "Am I staying for dinner?" She really did look surprised. "Is this an option, Mulder?" His question had come out without a thought behind it. They'd been sleeping together for a month. They'd been waking up together for a month. Even on cases out of town. It had suddenly occurred to him at her look of bewilderment that they were Living Together. They hadn't exactly talked about it. Like with everything they did together, they just did it. Why clutter things up with a lot of unnecessary exposition? Still, the realization shook him down to his scuffed white sneakers. He shook his head. Scully stared at his denim-clad thigh and scratched at the cloth of his jeans with her fingernail. "Wow. Um. Should we talk?" The catch in her voice contained no theatrics. Mulder touched her hand and she glanced up at him. "Are we OK?" She sounded a bit lost. Mulder took the list out of her hands. "We're OK. But maybe we should eventually have a little chat about - all this. Hm?" She smiled and frowned at the same time. "Are you sure everything's OK? I mean, if you're having a problem with this, Mulder, you'd tell me, right?" "'Course I would." "Because I know you. You love stewing in your own juices." "That's gross, Scully." That got him a grin - sans frown. "Promise me. All right?" She looked at him with wide, blue eyes. "Promise." He kissed her forehead. She leaned into him. Mulder peered at the list in his hand. He was about to say something witty about the fact that she had put tampons on the list when he stopped himself. Suddenly everything that wanted to come out of his mouth smacked of the conversation they hadn't had yet. This was not The Sex Fork anymore. This was definitely The Relationship Fork. The Forever Relationship Fork, he amended. However long that is. When your girlfriend starts novelizing shopping lists and begins to include tampons and toilet paper in with the wine, cheese and ice cream, you know that something has taken a turn. ************** Mulder wandered down the aisle of the supermarket wondering what signs he had missed along the way. Were there any signs? Was Scully conscious of the fact that they were behaving as if they were married? She must be, Mulder thought. They didn't just get together for sex and then dash back into their old worlds. From that first night _ all passion and hunger and love - they had begun to build this life together. Bit by little bit. Mulder kept bringing pieces of his life into hers. Literally and figuratively. Into her apartment. Into her bed. Into her consciousness. And bit by bit, she exposed more of herself to him. Reaching out and wrapping her whole being around his soul like thirsting roots reaching for a source of water. If they weren't intertwined before, they certainly were now. Mulder absently reached for a box of tampons and tossed it into the carton top of the Cheerios. It's not as if there was ever a question of what sex would mean between them. She had said it herself on that night. "How can an extension of a love that's already there be bad?" And they did love each other. Body and soul. It's just that this -this - this was _ astounding! "Astounding..." "Excuse me." Mulder turned to the woman hovering next to the avocados. "What?" "I'm making guacamole." "I'm pleased for you." The woman shot him an exasperated look. "Could you scooch over, please? I can't reach." "Sorry." Mulder rolled the cart around the avocado bin and parked in front of some imported mystery fruit. He shook his head and perused the list. Done. Breakfast, lunch, dinner. Dessert. He needed dessert. Ice cream. That's a no brainer. Maybe something unusual. He glanced at the fruit behind him. Do you peel or is it deceptively peach-like? Now, there's a fantasy. Scully and peaches. He wandered into the bakery section and gazed at the assorted delights. Eclairs. Fudge. Napoleons. Cakes, pies, cookies. He was getting a sugar rush just standing there. He wasn't coherent enough to be shopping like this. Scully had pushed him out the door after a gulp or two of coffee. "The earlier you get there, the better and the sooner you'll be back," she said and kissed him and closed the door. "Astounding," he repeated to himself. A kiss at the door in her bathrobe. What kind of a fantasy is that? But there it was. It was a decidedly domestic fantasy and one that he had had many times. Of course, it always came on the heels of the kind of acrobatic sex the Flying Walendas could appreciate, but that was neither here nor there, really. "Can I help you?" Mulder glanced at the girl behind the counter. "Eclairs. Chocolate. Um. Six of them." He figured Scully could easily eat two. When she wanted to, she could really put it away. They could be creative with the excess. Mulder pushed thoughts of Scully covered in custard and chocolate out of his head and asked for a Napoleon, too. Just one. They could share it. So, first the fantasy was sex. He grinned to himself at the position she had placed her in within the confines of his mind when he first began having these wayward thoughts. Not exactly out of the question now, but at the time, he would blush when he came in to work the next morning and saw her. It was hard to place his straight-laced, beige bedecked partner next to the Lady in Red in his mind and see the same person. Not back then. Next, the fantasy was love. Adoring, poetic, feeding strawberries to each other in the park love. Eventually, it was an ideal combination of both. These, of course, led to the domestic fantasies: Leaning against each other on the couch and reading. Just reading. Painting a room together. Shopping. He grinned. He took the box filled with about twelve million calories and made a beeline for the checkout stand. On his way home - home. Mulder shook his head again and chuckled to himself. Not Scully's place. Home. On his way, he mulled over what had transpired in the bedroom this morning. One little less than serious question about whether or not he was staying for dinner and he was re-evaluating his life. He wondered if Scully was doing the same thing. Yes, they would definitely have that little chat. He had a lot of things to say. ************** Scully sat on the couch staring into her cold cup of coffee when she heard muffled thuds against the door. "My arms are full!" Scully got up and opened the door for him. She took one of the bags under his arm and followed him into the kitchen. Methodically and silently she began helping him unload the groceries and putting them away. Mulder stole glances at her as he put the eggs away in the egg thingy. He'd have to ask Scully what you call that some time. He figured at some point, he should know these things. She unloaded the bag in front of her without really seeing what she was taking out. She was far away. Samantha used to call those "the stares". "She's got the stares," Samantha would say. When the groceries were put away, Mulder picked up the tampons and handed them to Scully. She stared at the box. And his hand. At his fingers clutching the box. She was suddenly appalled at herself. She was getting weepy because he'd bought her a box of tampons, for Christ's sake! She amended in her mind that it was what they represented. It's not so foolish. She looked up at him. He gets it, she thought. She smiled a shaky smile and stepped forward to give him a hug. "Do you douche, Scully? I'll buy you that, too, you know." Scully laughed into his chest and looked up at him. "Let's talk." "I thought you were hungry." "I am." "Then let's eat first." She nodded and pulled away from him. "Besides, I think the douche thing about sums it up for me." Scully rolled her eyes toward him and turned on the stove. Mulder leaned against the counter. "Want me to help? I will." "I know you will. Have some coffee and go do - something." "Can't I just sit here and watch?" "If you find me that entertaining, Mulder." "I do." She watched him pour himself a cup of coffee and sit down at the kitchen table. She turned from him. "Hey, Mulder?" "Hey, Scully?" She began cracking eggs into the frying pan. "You do realize that we're living together, don't you?" "Of course." She silently exhaled and glanced back at him briefly before turning back to the eggs. "Just checking." "OK." After several minutes, Scully realized that Mulder was chuckling. She turned to him, spatula in hand. "What?" "You really are very entertaining, Scully. It's like a floor show." "What? What am I doing?" "Just the way you - " He attempted to explain the accents and nuances of her body language while she cooked by shrugging and twitching and waving his hands around. "Very attractive, Mulder." "It is the way you do it. It's performance art, Scully." She looked at him askance. "You're twisted, Mulder." Mulder shrugged and grinned. "Hey, Scully." "Hey, Mulder." "Feel like painting the apartment?" "Not when it's raining outside. The paint won't dry." "Maybe another time?" "Another time," Scully said. "Maybe we could just relax today. Maybe read?" Mulder smiled. END