"My Tape Runneth Over" - 1/1 (X-Files)
"My Tape Runneth Over"
Part:
Characters: Mulder/Scully/Skinner
Rating: NC-17
Genre: X-Files
Original material copyright © 1998 A. Manley Haight
A Blast Furnace Production
ahaight@blastfurnace.org
Flames are welcome and are, in fact, encouraged for psychological study.
This story is not in any way intended to infringe on copyrights held by Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen Productions, Fox Television or 20th Century Fox. This story may be distributed only with prior permission of the author, and may not be posted to any archive, ftp site, or web page without the written permission of the author. This story is distributed for the individual personal entertainment of persons of legal age for viewing sexually explicit material in areas where such viewing is legal, and is not subject to purchase or sale by anyone.
(The author wishes to acknowledge Red Valerian, whose story "The Caveat Emporium" planted the seed for this idea.)
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"Sir, do you really think it's wise to be trapped in a van with a beautiful and stunningly intelligent female associate?"
"Keep talking like that, Mulder, and I'm going to come in there and make you eat your cell phone." That was Scully, and Skinner glanced at her from his business of rewinding the reel to reel. Scully was checking the line tapping electronics, displaying an expertise that was competence if not mastery. She looked exhausted, her hair hanging in her face, casual clothes rumpled. Her eyes were bright, but strained. They had all heard too much death and violence tonight. Mulder had called them and was trying to lighten the mood.
"Aw, come on, Scully, I'm dying here," Mulder moaned over the open phone channel. The sound of his voice came out through the van's audio system, not loud, but clear. "I can't watch TV because the cable's out and I already ate dinner. I've gone through everything I own at least twice already. I even read the articles. Jeez, what's left? Playing with myself?"
"Agent Mulder, do you think you could try to inject a little professionalism into this?" Skinner commented, knowing his voice would be picked up by the equipment. He had removed the reel tape and was testing the system now before installing another reel. He realized he sounded strangled, too, his voice sharper than he'd intended. Scully glanced at him but spoke to Mulder instead.
"I left you a couple of books when my shift ended this morning," Scully said. "'Dial M for Murder' and 'Doing Time on Maple Drive.'"
"Ha ha," Mulder said. "At least you've got some company out there in the van. I'm in here with cold pizza and a half a two-liter of Diet Pepsi, and a bunch of files from work." He said this last with a peculiar emphasis, teasingly referring to the fact that Skinner had given him a lot of extra crap to do after the latest expense report they had turned in. Skinner put up with a lot from his two most talented agents, but he drew the line at freight train theft and vehicular damage caused by thirty thousand pounds of peat moss.
"I hope you'll remember that the next time you decide to play a game of high speed chicken with an Apache gunship," Skinner replied.
"At least we got some evidence tonight, Mulder," Scully reminded her partner. Their latest UNSUB had cold-called Mulder last week, taunting the profiler, daring the man to discover him. It was not unknown behavior for serial killers, and Mulder had recommended a line tap to see if they could catch more of the calls and record them for information. The BSU was investigating the case itself, but had solicited Mulder's help after Mulder had become the UNSUB's sounding wall.
Scully had participated in the stakeout every night that week, with a different agent with her every time. Skinner had finally insisted on taking a shift himself, out of curiosity as much as anything. He disliked sitting behind his desk all the time while the people under him did all the dangerous and tedious work. His own work was just as boring in its own way, and for him, sitting in a truck all night long with the very real possibility that nothing interesting would happen was a nice change of pace.
Tonight they had hit pay dirt. The UNSUB had called again, bragging about his latest kill. It had been nauseating to listen to it, the man's visceral glee in his violence obvious in his voice. Mulder had been cool and calm throughout the call, even though Scully knew it would come back later to torment him. He had returned the taunting a little, playing the game, in order to elicit information. The UNSUB was smart and had not been easy to provoke. That, in itself, was useful knowledge and Scully knew it would help the profile.
The wait had been difficult. They had no way of knowing when the UNSUB would call, although Mulder had said he would only call at night, owing to the fact that the current profile indicated he had a professional day job, and would not risk calling from a location that could be easily traced, or a location where he could be easily discovered. Their trace equipment had been on, but the call had come from a cell phone, as Mulder predicted. They had been able to trap the originating account, but if the cell phone had been cloned, that information was useless. Mulder's latest prediction was that the cell phone's owner would be an innocent victim. Scully grimly had to concur.
"It's getting close to dawn," Mulder said, and she heard him yawn. "He's not going to call again today. The morning commute's going to start soon and he'll have to get a move on."
"We're packing up now," Scully sighed in agreement. She rubbed wearily at her eyes, aware of Skinner's concerned gaze on her.
"Okay. See you at work tomorrow? Don't do anything I wouldn't do." The channel clicked as Mulder hung up the cell.
"Is he always like that?" Skinner asked, sounding both peeved and intrigued.
"Whiny?" Scully asked with a faint chuckle. "Not always, sir."
"Not that," Skinner clarified. "The sexual innuendo."
"Oh," Scully said. "Yes, he's always like that."
"Doesn't it bother you?" he wondered. "If you'd told me, I could have --"
"No, sir, it doesn't bother me," she said. "Really," she added at her superior's dubious expression. He was a handsome man, even when he scowled. She wondered if he knew it, if he would believe anyone who told him. It wasn't a classical sort of handsomeness, but rather the magnificence of a man with a strong character. It was the beauty of fundamental good looks combined with a powerful intensity of personality that shone in his eyes and was displayed in the way he moved. He probably had no idea. Men like that usually didn't.
"He's your partner, Agent Scully," Skinner finally said with a slight shrug. "If you want to put up with it, it's fine with me." He was obviously in no mood to argue with her about something so ultimately trivial. Like her, he was dressed casually; in snug jeans and a turtleneck and Cat work boots. His sidearm was conspicuous at his left side, but she found it reassuring. Her own was nestled at her back, a familiar weight that she felt naked without.
"Actually, sir, I find it amusing," she said, turning away to pack her jacket and strewn books into her black duffel. "It's one of the things that makes knowing him entertaining."
"I admit I haven't spent as much time getting to know you and Agent Mulder as I would like," Skinner said, surprising her.
"Mulder's not as bad as people think," she said, her faint smile one of the very few Skinner had seen on her tonight. Even now it seemed forced, and he watched her for a moment.
"Are you all right, Agent Scully?" he asked her, point-blank. She paused after zipping the duffel, and straightened to look at him, brushing copper hair from her brow.
"Autopsying the bodies we've found is one thing," she said with a grim sigh. "I can put myself in a head space where it's just meat...just evidence to be examined. But listening to the UNSUB talking about it...describing what I saw done to that woman's body today..." She looked away. "I can never sleep after cases like this. I dream about it. About the victims, about the killer. It becomes a palette for all my own fears." She sighed again, one eyebrow arched as she gazed down at the duffel bag, her arms folded. "I'll be all right later, after the sun rises. It's always better in the daytime." Skinner nodded understandingly.
Suddenly the reel to reel machine came on with a thump, startling them, and began recording. A dial tone could be heard and then a number was quickly tapped in --speed dial from the sound of it. Skinner and Scully looked at each other quizzically. Mulder was making a call _out_ from _inside_ his apartment.
"Pizza?" Scully wondered, trying to decide what would be programmed into Mulder's redial that he would be calling at four in the morning.
"Surely not at this time of day. Besides, he said he ate already," Skinner replied from his seat in the chair. The phone was answered on the other end, and they both went silent to listen.
"Hello," said a breathy, sexy voice, "this is Tanya. What's keeping you up tonight, lover? Can I kiss it and make it better?" Skinner's eyes widened and he looked at Scully again. Scully covered her face with both hands. She was going to kill Mulder.
"Hi Tanya," came Mulder's voice, rich with amusement. "It's Marty. Listen, I have something really special in mind tonight. Can you get Jack on the line, too?" Scully could almost hear the sound of a cash register chinging.
"Sure thing, Marty," Tanya said with a detectable smile in her voice. "Just a minute." There was a brief pause, and then a man's deep, warm voice joined them.
"Hello Marty," Jack said pleasantly. "We haven't heard from you in a long time. Tanya says you want something special." The sexuality in the man's voice was raw and hot, and Scully felt her sex throb in empathy. She dared not look up. She didn't want to know what was in Skinner's face. "How special do you want it to be, Marty?"
"What in the hell is he doing?" Skinner growled.
"Let me tell you who you are," Mulder said suggestively, "and then I'll tell you what I want."
"Go for it, lover," Tanya said. Skinner got up with another inarticulate noise of anger and moved quickly for the rear door of the van with the intention of going up to Mulder's apartment to end this foolishness. He never made it out the back, Mulder's next words freezing him where he stood.
"Jack," Mulder said, "your name is Walter. You're an ex-Marine...six feet tall, with the darkest, most gorgeous eyes I've ever seen in my life. You're my boss, and most days you act like it, tearing me a new one every time I screw up, clenching your jaw even though you have no idea how sexy it is when you do it." He wasn't talking to Jack anymore, probably never really had been. He was speaking directly to Skinner, fully conscious of the phone being tapped by his boss and partner in the van below his apartment. His voice was low, thoughtful and sensuous, guaranteed to make anybody horny, male, female, gay or straight. "You're fantastically muscular and it shows in the way you move --there isn't a suit in the world that can hide it. God, sometimes it hurts just to be around you. You talk through your teeth like you want to bite something, and I wish it were me. You walk with that surety and ease of men who fear nothing and yet I have never known you to be arrogant. Why do I think you have no idea that you're so fucking handsome? Ask anybody, sir. Ask that women next to you."
Scully looked up then, and saw that Skinner was watching her from the rear of the van, one hand on the door he had forgotten about. His eyes had darkened, his expression reflecting a remarkable tableau of astonishment, embarrassment, curiosity and arousal. He would never have spoken it, but his eyes asked her, /Is it true?/ and she nodded slightly, agreeing with Mulder's assessment of their superior.
Suddenly he shook himself and moved back toward the reel to reel. This couldn't be allowed to go on. It was so unprofessional they could all get in an enormous amount of trouble, and Skinner was the one with the authority and the duty to stop it. He reached out for the tape machine, intending to stop the recording and the phone tap and prevent any further progress of this dangerous fantasy.
A small hand clamped around his wrist, stopping him before he could switch the machine off, and he glanced up into Scully's eyes. God almighty, he couldn't even move in the flame of that stare.
"I want to hear this," she said.
"Tanya," came Mulder's sultry voice again after Jack had finished chuckling appreciatively at Mulder's character description. "Let me tell you about yourself."
"Agent Scully..." Skinner said, getting lost in her pale sapphire-grey eyes. Those eyes were hard, passionate. She was not going to let Skinner stop this, no matter his responsibility and the threat of the evidence that was being collected while the tape rolled.
"Please," she whispered. He sat down hard in the chair.
"Your name is Dana," Mulder said, his voice winding into both of them like smoke. "You scare me with how smart you are...maybe because I love women like that so much, and it's so perverted, but every time you say something intellectual I get hard." Mulder laughed a bit, amused by his own response, but his voice sobered again in the next sentence. "I mean really hard. You never notice, or maybe you're too kind to let me know that you've seen it. I trust you like no one else, with my life, my soul. You make me work for everything and I love that challenge, the way you look at me when I say something crazy, the way you back me up when you know I'm right. Even Walter knows better than to argue with you when you're on a tear."
Skinner chuckled, startling Scully this time. She had let go of his wrist and he was leaning back in the chair, obviously enjoying listening to Scully getting the same treatment he had from Mulder's gifted tongue.
"Did I mention that women with guns are a turn-on?" Mulder went on, sounding innocent but the heat in his voice made Scully's gut clench. "Summer's the best, when it's hot outside and you wear light clothes. I can smell you...bet you didn't know that. All men can smell women like that. Heat makes it stronger...I can smell it under your perfume and shampoo and the detergent you wash your clothes in. Bet you a thousand dollars Walter can smell it, too. Not that he would ever admit it."
Scully had retreated back into the corner of the van where she was sitting cross-legged on her jacket, listening to Mulder's voice wash over her and fill her with heat and desire. It was sweet torment. He was fucking them with his voice, both of them. Skinner didn't dare look at her, his arms folded across his broad chest and his head bowed now as this went beyond a humorous teasing and began to touch even him in a deep, dark, secret place. He needed this as much as she did, to hear this encouragement, this delighted praise of them as sexual beings. His jaw was working silently, clenched hard to keep back something. She wondered what he was holding onto. Could he smell her, like Mulder said? Right now? She was so horny her sex felt like a furnace, throbbing hard every few seconds, responding to Mulder's voice...and Skinner's closeness.
"Guess that's enough foreplay," Mulder chuckled, his quiet laughter filling the van. "Know what I want?"
"What do you want?" Jack asked. His voice had changed, trying to fill the fantasy Mulder had created. It was a startlingly good impression of how Skinner sometimes sounded, tension and steel radiating from the tone.
"I want you to fuck each other," Mulder said, his voice rough with eagerness and nervous longing. "I have always, always wanted to see that. Guess I can't see..." He laughed again, shakily. "But hearing's the next best thing. Do it for me, Walter. Dana. Fuck for me. For yourselves. Do it."
Skinner reached for the tape machine again, panic filling his belly this time. The power of this had shocked him, the power of his own painful need and loneliness and the truth of the fact that his dreams for the past few years had been full of these two magnificent agents under his direction. He couldn't let this be exposed, and if this went on for a second longer, he was lost.
Scully's hand grabbed his again, and he gasped, jerking his gaze up to hers...to discover she was clad only in her button-up denim shirt, the tails of it not quite concealing the fact that her panties had been abandoned somewhere. Her bare, finely muscled legs were the color of warm cream. She held his eyes, her own like blue fire, and pulled his hand between her legs into her warm, wet sex. She pulled his glasses off, set them on the shelf with his book. Then she pushed two of his fingers up into her, her legs trembling with the pleasure of it and she gave a long, shuddering gasp.
"Wouldn't you love to do it in Walter's office?" Mulder asked, his voice like the rasp of their own subconscious bringing buried fantasies to the surface and brazenly speaking them.
He could smell her now, as Mulder had said he could, and he looked up into Scully's fantastic, desperate eyes. She was still holding his wrist, keeping his hand pressed against her sex. Her chest shook with each breath, her need for him raw and obvious. He had been hard before, long before Scully's approach, but his cock quivered now. He could not possibly resist this. No man should be asked to resist this. "She's hot for you, Walter," Mulder said prophetically. "She wants you to take her on your desk. She needs it, Walter, and so do you."
Skinner turned in his chair swiftly, grabbing Scully's shirttail with his free hand and pulling her to stand between his knees. He pushed another finger into her with a growl, and she leaned her head back with a cry that ripped through him. "I can see that look on your face, Walter, that hot look in your eyes," Mulder purred. "Dana, how do you look? Oh, how do you look when you want his cock?" Tanya obliged with an extraordinarily accurate and sexy description, but Skinner and Scully weren't listening to them. Skinner had a feral, delighted grin on his face, fascinated by Scully's sensuality.
"She looks divine, Mulder," Skinner growled in a low voice, answering the yearning demand that had come across the phone line. "And she sounds like a lioness and I wish you could see what I'm doing to her." Mulder couldn't hear them in the van, but Scully's vaginal muscles clamped around Skinner's fingers in response to his voice and his words. His thumb found her clit, gently, and she cried out again, leaning forward to bow her head over his face, her flaming hair brushing his cheek and temple. "You are so beautiful," he whispered fiercely, his free hand on her thigh now, stroking her sleek, muscular leg.
"Lock the door, Walter," Mulder purred. "Go back across the floor and grab her, kiss her hard, let her know she's yours. Dana, you want him so bad, your hands are already on his belt. He's hard for you, big cock pressing into his stomach, so obvious in his pants. He wants to be inside you, Dana..."
Scully took his face in her hands and kissed him deeply, parting his lips to taste him obscenely. He groaned and she nipped at his lip when she pulled back. Mulder's voice had made her so hot, and it was such a waste to just sit in the van with this magnificent, male creature and not do something about it. It had been obvious to her that Skinner was horny. Women could see that in men, too. He was too much of a gentleman to come on to her, but she wanted him to understand that it was okay, that his touch would never, ever be refused.
"So are you," she panted, responding to his fierce whisper of adoration. She kissed him again lightly, stroking her hand down his arm to where he was pleasuring her. "God, you're good at this."
"I like doing it," he said, his eyes fierce and intent on her face. His fingers filled her sweetly, moving slowly in that exquisite mixture of strength and gentleness. His thumb was light on her clit, teasing, using her own wetness to drive her insane.
"There's nothing between you but her panties, Walter," Mulder growled. "Push 'em aside and push into her. He's got something for you, Dana, get his shirt open so it won't get in the way." Mulder was laughing, and making soft noises. "Oh Christ..."
"God, he's jerking off," Scully gasped, really realizing it for the first time. "He's going to come thinking about us fucking. Oh...God..." Just the thought of it, the image of Mulder sitting on his couch with his jeans shoved down, hand around his hard cock because of her, brought fire up from deep in her belly.
"Oh, Dana, you gonna come?" Skinner breathed. "Come on, do it for Mulder. Do it for me. Come on, Dana, yes!" She surrendered herself to Skinner's strength as the climax slammed into her, leaning on him, bowing her head over his shoulder as she howled her pleasure and release. He held her easily, and kept toying with her all through it, gentling the pressure but not stopping, and she whimpered and bit his neck, making him purr. "Oh, you're sweet, you're sweet," he whispered.
"Fuck her, Walter," Mulder growled. "Put her down on her back on your desk and slide that big cock into her. Come on, push, she's so tight, she wants it, Walter. Dana, take him, take him inside, he's hot and big and he's spreading you open, pushing every inch of himself up into you. He's gonna buck hard, Dana, hold onto him!"
"Fuck me," Scully whispered in his ear. He got up immediately, nostrils flaring. He withdrew his fingers from her sex and pushed her back to the van's inside wall. He was already unbuttoning his jeans with his other hand, quick and sure. His eyes never left hers. He knew she was going to turn away from him, to take him from behind, but he wanted her to see him first.
"Look at me," he hissed. "Look at what you're going to get." With one hand, he pushed his jeans and underwear down to bare his cock and balls, cupping them for a moment in his large palm. He relished the way she licked her lips, breaking her gaze away from his face to drink him in. He pulled his turtleneck off over his head, smiling tightly as he remembered Mulder's advice to keep it out of the way. He sighed in delight as she touched him, one hand closing around his cock to caress it, the other hand rubbing up his muscular chest, making this intimate contact for a few moments. He was unbuttoning her shirt, slipping it down her shoulders, pausing to unfasten her lace bra as she fondled him slowly. All the clothing went into a chair, and then Scully turned to present her back to him, hands spread-eagled on the wall.
"How does she feel, Walter?" Mulder demanded roughly. "Can you feel how much she wants you? Give her everything you've got, Walter, she deserves it."
Skinner leaned over her back, kissing her shoulder blade lusciously as he nuzzled the tip of his cock against her sex. She was so ready for him, a shudder rippling through her body as he nudged himself about an inch inside her, teasing.
"Please," she gasped. "Please." He loved hearing it, knowing that she felt like this because of him, because she wanted him. He put both hands on her hips to steady her for a moment, then rammed himself deep into her all at once. She shoved back against him immediately, gasping hard and clawing the wall.
"Fuck yes!" he exclaimed, letting his breath out in a huge pant. "Oh, Scully...Dana..." Her head turned over her shoulder, meeting his eyes for a moment. Something wicked flashed in her azure stare and a growl wound its way up out of his chest in reply.
"Do it, sir," she purred, deliberately using the honorific instead of his name. "On your desk. Just like he says."
"God, I can see it," Mulder panted. He sounded desperate, hungry, approaching the edge on which they were going to join him. "I can see you. Oh, you're wild, aren't you Dana? I know you are. And he's great, isn't he?" Mulder laughed breathlessly. "Big and strong and vulgar. You are, aren't you, Walter?"
"Hell yes," Skinner growled, bucking in and out of Scully quickly, savagely. "Oh yes." He was breathing hard against Scully's shoulder, kissing and biting her. He slowed his pace after a few moments of that animal ferocity, his breath leaving him in a controlled, trembling hiss as he fought to prolong this. She was so hot around his cock, her voice making quiet, passionate noises at him, wanting him.
"Like that?" Mulder teased. "Huh?"
"Yes," Skinner and Scully both managed, responding to the pure heat of Mulder's demand. Scully chuckled hoarsely and Skinner grinned.
"Like that?" Mulder hissed.
"Yes!"
"Oh God, I'm close," Mulder gasped, sounding surprised and elated. "God, please! Do it for me, Walter, come on, Dana."
"God, I'm going to," Scully wailed. "Please, please!"
"Yeah, don't worry, I'm there with you, Scully," Skinner rasped, savoring every moment, his heart racing, pounding hard in his chest. "Don't worry, come on --"
"Fuck, I'm gonna come," Mulder cried out. "Oh yeah! Oh yeah I'm gonna --" His voice trailed off into a full-throated yell of ecstasy. It was an utterly vulnerable sound, exposing his heart and private core for the duration of that sweet howl. There was loneliness in it, and joy and love and raw relief.
Skinner matched him almost in the same instant, biting down hard on Scully's shoulder and snarling as he exploded into her. He wanted it to never stop, to stay buried in her all night and keep this heat and sweetness to himself. She was so fantastic and so magnificent. He had never felt so totally human and yet so out of control. No animal could experience this profound awe, and he wanted to laugh with the triumph of it.
Scully felt him let go into her, hard pulses filling her to overflowing. His teeth found her shoulder blade, hot breath and tongue and harsh voice marking her brutally in the throes of his release. All of it, together, the sound of Mulder's delight, made her come with an intensity she hadn't felt in so long there was no memory of it inside her. This moment made a new memory, a peak of sensation to compare all others against. She heard herself scream, like nothing she had ever done before even when alone. Both of them were wondrous, both men violent and delicious in their own way. She couldn't have chosen between them.
The wake of it was sleepy, lazy. Mulder recovered after a few moments and thanked Tanya and Jack with a shaking voice. His smile was audible, as was his terror and understanding of what he had done. Perhaps the last two were only discernable to Skinner and Scully, but they were not really hearing him just then.
He waited for her to withdraw from him a little, and then he pulled out of her with a heavy sigh. She leaned back against him and he embraced her, resting his mouth against her soft hair. They were both damp with sweat, still panting quietly. Scully was shuddering, still not quite all there in the fiery aftermath of her climax.
"Good?" he asked her softly. She only groaned in reply, but it was a sensuous, feline noise that made fire ripple up his back. "Good," he murmured, smiling against her temple and kissing her gently. She turned around in his arms suddenly and pulled his head down for a harder kiss, and he held her to him tightly, devouring her.
They realized that Mulder was ending his call, responding to Tanya's hope that he would call again. He promised he would, then said something that rent Scully's heart.
"I hope it was good for you," Mulder whispered. Tanya and Jack said something, but Scully knew who Mulder had really been talking to. She looked up at Skinner, who regarded her with an emotion in his dark eyes that was much like hers.
The tape machine gave a thunk, indicating that the call had ended and the equipment had gone back into wait mode.
Skinner started to pull up his jeans and underwear, which were still around his knees, but she stopped him silently, just looking at him, at the proof of her passion and his own on his slick, glistening cock. He did not seem embarrassed, just went still to let her look.
"Still hard," she observed, not quite a question, and glanced up into his eyes mischievously. He smiled back, a little wryly.
"Probably will be for a while," he admitted. "I'm like that. Might be able to come again...maybe three." He shrugged a little. "Depends."
"I can think of something you should do with it, then," Scully said.
"Oh?" he said, and she pulled him down to whisper in his ear. His smile broadened ferally.
****
Mulder sighed carefully, the breath shivering out of him. The cordless phone was on the couch beside him, forgotten. His semen was cooling on his belly, thick and comforting. He had known as soon as he had picked up the phone that night that he was crossing a line that he could never retreat back across. It was the kind of event that would change his life completely, for good or ill, and he had known for several months now that such an act was necessary or none of them would be able to go forward in their lives.
He was so, so scared. The fear was omnipresent, enveloping, so deep it stopped feeling like ordinary terror and became something else, like a living animal wound up inside his belly, engulfing his entire body warmly.
Lots of things could happen now. The dawn could rise in silence, and the next time he talked to them, they would act as if nothing had happened. That might be the safest thing. He could get reprimanded for unprofessional behavior while on duty. He wondered if Skinner would humiliate him by producing the taped evidence of his innermost fantasies. If the man got angry enough, oh yes, he would indeed. Scully might flay him alive for embarrassing her like that, especially in front of their boss.
He got up and went into the bathroom to clean himself up, wiping his chest and stomach with a warm washcloth, catching a look at himself in the mirror. He looked marvelously sated. Whatever else his terror had done to him, it had given him the most powerful orgasm of his life, and he could still see the remnants of it shining in his hazel eyes. He swallowed hard, then smiled faintly at himself before going back out to find a clean shirt and some fresh underwear and sweatpants.
He sat back down on the couch, discovering he was very tired. What was it they used to call him at Oxford? A total wanking nutter. He glanced at the clock. God, it was five in the morning. Still a good three hours of darkness left.
The sound of a key being slid into the lock on his front door made him look over sharply. The key turned, making a hard sound as the deadbolt slapped aside and the door was thrown open violently.
Mulder leapt to his feet, and Scully flew into the room. His mouth opened soundlessly at the savage, intense glitter of her blue eyes. He saw his own immolation in them, and his larynx tensed as if to speak, to deny any malice to what he had done.
It was Skinner coming into the apartment behind her --and the look on his face --that killed the words in his throat. The door slammed shut, closed by the strong hand of that powerful man, and the dark eyes turned back to him, burning like oil fire.
"Sir," he croaked, not knowing what he was going to say after that. They were both coming toward him, moving like predators, intent on exacting a price for the torture he had inflicted on them. The back of his ever-observant mind noted that Scully looked disheveled, her hair tousled and her shirt untucked from her jeans. Skinner looked as immaculate as humanly possible in his turtleneck and jeans, but his eyes were gleaming with a naked passion that had never before breached the man's steel control within Mulder's witness.
/Oh Christ, they did, they _did it_,/ Mulder thought frantically.
"Shut up, Agent Mulder," Skinner spat, and reached out for him at the last minute to claim his body with both hands and kiss him breathless.
Mulder groaned, shocked by the hard, urgent mouth that devoured his. He tasted the sex on Skinner's tongue --not anything as literal as the salt of Scully's skin or the metallic tang of her blood --but the hunger of the kiss was enough proof. They had done it in the van, and Skinner wasn't finished. For him, it had just been a taste, a teasing bait dangled in front of him like the carrot before the mule's nose.
Mulder had just started to slide exploring hands around Skinner's back when the older man broke the kiss and drew back to look at him, eyes flaming.
"You sound so good when you come, Fox," Skinner purred at him. The sound of his name, uttered like that from the throat of this powerful, beautiful man, made Mulder's knees buckle. Skinner wouldn't let him fall, pushing him backward against the edge of his desk, and kissed him again. When it was reluctantly broken again, Mulder's breath caught as Skinner grabbed his shirt and dragged it off over his head, tossing it onto the couch behind him without looking. Then he reached past Mulder and shoved things aside on the desktop. Papers and books and videotapes gave way to flat surface, and Mulder grunted hard as he was turned around and pushed roughly down on his stomach, his hands grasping for the desk's edges reflexively.
He could hardly breathe, his heart racing, pounding into the desk beneath his chest so hard it almost hurt. A moan wrenched past his throat as his sweatpants and underwear were roughly dragged down, Skinner's hands warm and efficient. His cock hung free, not touching the side of the desk, swollen half-erect from the violence and domination of Skinner's lust so fully displayed. Even his recent orgasm couldn't stop him from responding.
A hand came down forcefully in the middle of his naked back, holding him down, making it still harder to breathe, and he panted in short gasps. He heard the rustle of clothes, realized Skinner was removing his own shirt, then opening his jeans and shoving them down. His breath caught again when he saw Scully standing to one side, watching the entire thing silently, her arms folded imperiously. He couldn't look away from her gaze, her eyes blue like the flame of an arc welder. A shiver rippled up his thighs and back, coming back down to settle in his groin. His cock swelled more, tightening. Something long and thick and hard and hot pressed up against Mulder's buttocks, and he inhaled sharply.
"Think you can take that up your ass, Agent Mulder?" Skinner wondered. One of his hands was still planted in the center of Mulder's back. The other rested lightly on his flank, thumb slowly rubbing. The voice was like polished steel. "Want me to put it in you?"
"Jesus, yes," Mulder gasped, without really thinking about everything the question implied. He knew only the immediacy of it --this gorgeous man fucking him.
Scully watched with the trembling pleasure of a dark fantasy come to life before her. Mulder was desperate, brought to this breathless obedience so quickly by the two of them that it made her mouth dry. She felt a rush of power over him, that she and Skinner could open this door into Mulder's soul so easily. Skinner's eyes met hers, feral, demanding.
"Find something," he commanded. She nodded. They had discussed this before coming up to the apartment. She left the two men to go look for something appropriate.
Mulder felt warmth against his neck as Skinner leaned over his back. Soft breath drifted over his nape as Skinner breathed deep and fast. "You're insane, you know," Skinner rumbled, "pulling a stunt like that. All the things that could have gone wrong. You could have read us wrong, Mulder. You could very easily have misread me. People smarter than you have done it."
"But I saw the truth, didn't I?" Mulder panted back at him, his voice raspy with excitement. "That's what I do, sir. That's what I am. I search for truth. Sometimes I believe the lie, but when the truth is put before me, I know it for what it is. Do you think you could parade around in front of me for so long and not show me your heart with every step, every breath? I know you, Walter Sergei Skinner. I know you like I know her, just differently."
Scully came back with a bottle of sex lube, which she put down on the desk next to Mulder's shoulder with a loud noise. Skinner chuckled, reaching for it.
"Perfect," he growled. "You don't know me, Mulder." He was taking some of the lube on his fingers, warming it. He touched Mulder's anus gently, stroking, and Mulder drew a shocked, harsh breath. "That's why you did this tonight. You want to find out who I am."
"No, not that," Mulder said, his voice strangled as Skinner slid a finger into him. "Oh God," he hissed, writhing against the touch, encouraging it, shamelessly reacting to the exquisite, slippery pleasure of it. "I want to find out if you'll let me see what I know is inside you. Please. God, show me that --" He cried out as a second finger joined the first, spreading him open.
"Like that, Fox?" Skinner asked him, voice like a dragon's sigh. Mulder's back arched as a third finger nudged gently for entry, his hands clamped around the edges of the desk, knuckles white.
"Fuck, oh yes," Mulder breathed, almost inaudibly. "Oh fuck that's so good, God, don't stop, oh Jesus..."
"You are so shameless," Skinner growled, loving this wanton display of desire and raw need. "God, you're beautiful. Come on, take three, Fox, you can do it." He was going slow, but pushing relentlessly, most of the width of his hand disappearing inside the tight passage.
"Don't stop don't stop don't stop," Mulder groaned. He clenched muscles around the invading fingers, and heard Skinner's sharp hiss.
"Not in a million years, Fox," Skinner promised, turning his hand to probe for Mulder's prostate. He found it, and grinned at the yelp it elicited. Mulder surged forward on the desk, almost rising up even against the weight of Skinner's hand on his back. "Gotcha, Fox. Be still and let me fuck you."
"God, do it," Mulder panted. "Fuck me, please, God you don't know how long I've wanted you to..." Skinner gave a quick, grim smile.
"Yes, and I'm going to do it in front of your partner," Skinner said, aware that Mulder was keeping his eyes closed to avoid addressing the fact of her presence. "She wants to watch us. If you have a problem with that you'd better tell me now."
Mulder forced himself to open his eyes and look at Scully. She was leaning against the edge of the desk, her head cocked to one side, pale eyes intent and hungry and envious and loving. She loved him. It was so obvious in her face. It was one thing to bend over and get sweetly fucked; he didn't have to look Skinner in the eye the whole time. Scully would have a view of this that people seldom earned. Yet, if he couldn't trust her with himself like this, who could he trust? Mulder swallowed hard. Skinner still had three fingers inside him, but was just moving them gently right now, waiting for Mulder's answer.
"Okay, Scully?" Mulder asked her, softly, asking for permission, asking for her to tell him she was enjoying this. They had yet to make love to each other, and here was their boss getting first crack at it.
"Yeah, Mulder," she whispered back. He heard the smile that wasn't on her face. She was too busy being aroused by what she was witnessing. It wasn't a carnal arousal, but something much more visceral in its own way, feeding a craving she possessed but never sated because the methods for doing so were so rare and complicated. She was watching her boss screw her partner, and she could never have explained to anyone why it satisfied her, or indeed exactly what itch it was scratching. "It's okay. Ask me later how many nights I've stayed up fantasizing this exact moment." Mulder's eyes widened and Skinner growled, amused.
"Relax, Fox," Skinner said, sliding his fingers out and accepting the damp washcloth Scully handed him without looking at her. "I'm not going to tease you anymore." He smiled wickedly, guiding his cock into place carefully. Mulder closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again, very deliberately meeting Scully's gaze.
"Do it," Mulder growled low, staring at her. "Please, God..."
He was impaled, slowly, deliciously. His mouth opened in astonishment --it was so good, oh mother of God, it was so sweet and it had been so long and Scully was watching him. He held her eyes, biting his lip and fighting not to look away. He wanted to just shut his eyes, feeling as though it was a choice between that and holding in a lot of what he was feeling. But he had chosen to show her, and he knew now that to deny her any of it, even the smallest part, would be a declaration that he felt she was unworthy of him. So he kept his eyes open, a gasp tearing out of him as the emotions and the physical pleasure ripped him open for her witness, naked to the core. Skinner let out a long breath through clenched teeth and sank himself to the root with a harsh groan.
"All right?" Skinner asked him, voice strained as he held himself still, thighs trembling like a stallion in heat.
"Fine," Mulder said, still looking at Scully. There were unshed tears in her eyes. She knew what he was showing her, saw his soul and heart in his gaze and understood the real depth of his unspoken commitment. "Stop holding back, Walter." He heard the surprised hiss from the older man, and then the big cock inside him was sharply withdrawn. He gave a wild cry as he was speared again, this time hard and swift and brutal. Skinner's grunt of effort was buried in Mulder's shout, and he breathed a laugh.
"If you insist, Fox," Skinner snarled, and bucked again. It didn't stop --long, hard, intense thrusts that slapped against his rump, Skinner's balls jostling his own.
Scully felt her gut clench savagely at the erotic howl that tore from Mulder's throat, his hands gripped around the edges of the desk so tightly she wouldn't have been surprised to see indentations in the wood afterward. Skinner knew what he was doing, by God. This was no quick, animalistic fuck. Skinner was thoughtful, conscious, in every hard, sharp thrust. It wasn't particularly fast, or even rhythmic. Each buck was unexpected, the brief pauses in between filled with relish and control and a total consciousness of what was transpiring.
That was what Mulder was responding to --not the sex itself, but the weight and passion and intensity of Skinner's awareness and desire. Skinner wanted this. He was enjoying it.
"Oh Christ, I can feel that," Mulder panted, his voice strangled as Skinner put both hands on the desk on either side of him and leaned down a little.
"What?" Skinner hissed, curious, holding himself deep for a moment and then bucking again, harder than before. Mulder gave a sharp laugh with the thrust.
"That," Mulder said. "Your possession."
"Is that what I'm doing, Agent Mulder?" Skinner wondered. He bucked again, provoking a cry this time. "Possessing you?"
"Fuck yes," Mulder growled, "and it's the sweetest thing in the world, you bastard. You know it. You know how bad I want it."
"I do now," Skinner rasped.
"Then come on," Mulder said through clenched teeth, his nostrils flaring. "Finish it. Come inside me and own me, damn you. Own me." It was a demand, rough, almost a shout. Scully heard the pleading in it, too, disguised beneath the savagery.
Mulder was making feral, strangled noises; sounds of pleasure straight out of his dreams. He whimpered and groaned, and Scully heard gratitude from deep in his soul, a love and joy so great it made her hurt sweetly to hear him. Skinner leaned down over his back again, pausing in his thrusts to kiss gently between Mulder's sweat-slicked shoulders.
"Let me hear it, Mulder," Skinner murmured. He used the name he felt was safe, the one Mulder would respond to best right now. His voice was like warm iron, quiet but unyielding. "Let it out. I know you want to scream." Just the words made Mulder emit a low, keening wail of delight and hunger, and Skinner growled softly. "Oh, let me hear it, please. I want to know that I make you feel like that." Without warning, Skinner pushed hard into him, and Mulder's voice rose in a howl of desperation.
"You let go for me and I'll let go for you," Mulder snarled. "I want to know that I can push you, too." Skinner growled again, a low, gravelly sigh breathed against Mulder's furrowed spine. His eyes closed slowly, and he started to move again, this time letting his body take the rhythm it wanted. He wanted to give this man everything, to show both him and Scully the passion that lived beneath his discipline. He let out the growl he'd been suppressing --a continuous, dangerous purr. He had to rise up a little to get the depth he wanted, bucking harder and faster with each breath.
"Show me, Mulderrrr," he growled. "I'll give you all I've got, Fox. You want to hear me, too, huh? Want to hear how good you feel and how bad I want you?"
"Yes!" Mulder shouted. "Oh God, yes! God, you feel so good, oh Christ!" He made a sound Scully had never heard from him, even in his most joyous moments; a full-throated whoop of triumph and delight, and Skinner laughed.
"Yeah, Fox!" He was grunting low, the need for release claiming him and delivering waves of hot pleasure through his body. "You're mine, Fox. Right now nobody owns you but me. I'm gonna come inside you, Fox. You want to hear that? Huh?"
"Yes!"
"Want to hear me come, Fox?"
"Christ, yeah!"
Scully was certainly not a stranger to a man's passions, but she had never seen anyone enjoy sex as much as these two men were enjoying this. Skinner had been so delicious with her in the van. She hadn't known there really were men like that in the world. His eyes were alight with a wildness and joy that could not be mistaken for mere carnal lust. She wondered if Mulder's motives for doing this tonight had been born of something more complex and more compassionate than just a lewd impulse. Mulder had often seen things she had not, been aware of nuances and subtleties in people that escaped the notice of everyone else. He had been so right about her, hadn't he?
Skinner made an amazing sound, a soft "hurr" of gentle surprise.
"Gonna come for you, Fox," he whispered. His thrusts slowed in those quick heartbeats of the climax's approach. Then he let out a yell to match Mulder's, a full octave deeper, a sound to rattle the windows and make Scully's eyes go wide. Mulder was silent, arched back, eyes closed in an strangely relaxed expression of bliss as he accepted Skinner's release into him.
Skinner's roar ended suddenly on a strangled groan and a soft, trembling laugh. He gasped for another breath, bowed over Mulder's back, the orgasm fading quickly. Mulder had collapsed, limp, on the desktop, purring low in his throat like a big cat.
Even in the exhausted wake of that blinding ecstasy, Mulder was still acutely aware of Skinner's presence over him and inside him. Skinner's forehead was resting between his shoulder blades. He could feel the older man's hard breaths against his damp skin, heard the sound of swallowing as Skinner gulped to return some moisture to his tongue.
Mulder opened his eyes, knowing Scully would still be there. She was almost panting, too, just standing there watching, one of her hands clenched around the end of the desk where she stood. Their eyes met for a long moment, naked and open, and Mulder grinned.
"Okay if I pull out?" Skinner asked quietly. Mulder nodded wordlessly, moaning again as the big cock inside him withdrew slowly. "C'mere, Fox," Skinner said, coaxing him up off the desk. He didn't have the strength to do it himself just then, but Skinner held him, strong arms around his chest and belly, keeping him close. He could feel Skinner's wet cock pressing into his buttocks. "Is it all right if I call you that?" Skinner asked, whispering into his ear. Mulder let his head loll back against Skinner's shoulder, eyes closed.
"Mm hm," Mulder replied lazily. Scully smiled at them, basking in Skinner's protectiveness and Mulder's unselfconscious, naked relaxation.
"You've got special dispensation," Scully said to Skinner. "I'm impressed."
"You mean you don't?" Skinner said, genuinely surprised. He knew that Mulder didn't let people call him Fox, but surely Scully was allowed to, after everything else. Scully shrugged slightly.
"I've never asked, and he's never offered."
"Maybe you should ask," Mulder murmured, smiling, but he still had his eyes closed. Skinner held his hand out to Scully, inviting her closer. He knew his two agents needed to renew their own bond in this private moment. She accepted, taking his strong hand and moving up against Mulder's body. She put her hand on Mulder's chest, and he gasped softly.
"Why do you hate your name so much?" she wondered as his eyes opened. They were dark with spent passion and love.
"I don't hate it," he said, straightening from Skinner a little to bow his head to hers gently, their temples touching. "It's a special name that speaks to a special part of me. I make people call me Mulder because it's less personal." He smiled, holding her face in his hands. "And yet when you call me that it feels more intimate than anything else. That's what you've done to me, Scully. What we've done to each other. Call me Fox. You earned the right a long time ago, and it's just like you to respect me enough not to ask."
"You're beautiful, Fox," she whispered, looking at his body, his trusting stillness, the way he was letting Skinner hold him. His eyes were bright and gentle, hair plastered to his neck and forehead by the sweat of his lovemaking with Skinner. His penis was half-erect, but he hadn't come. Once a night was about all he could manage, even with Skinner's magnificent attention. She stroked his throat and jaw, feeling more intimate with him in this moment than if they had also made love. Wasn't this lovemaking, too? This quiet, sacred moment between the three of them?
"Thank you," Mulder said sincerely, his voice soft.
"For telling you you're beautiful?" she wondered.
"For everything. For coming in here tonight like this." He leaned back against Skinner again, turning his mouth into the older man's neck to kiss him softly. "You too, you gorgeous bastard. God, you're good." Skinner wore a secretive smile as he hugged Mulder close to him and let his jaw and ear be kissed and nibbled.
"You look very pleased with yourself," Scully said to Skinner wryly, stroking his hand where it rested on Mulder's chest. His ebony eyes flicked to her, and his faint smile deepened a little.
"Tonight I got the two things I want most in the world," Skinner said. The contentment in his low voice was rich and relaxed.
"Gosh, I hope we can give you more than two," Mulder said deadpan, and then flinched away with a laugh when Skinner pinched him in a ticklish spot. Scully giggled.
"We really should go back to the van," Skinner muttered, looking at Scully. "I don't even want to think about which regulations we're violating by abandoning a stakeout." Mulder sighed heavily.
"Once again, cold, harsh reality intrudes," Mulder said with mock gravity. Skinner pulled him close again and kissed his neck. "The tape machine's still on, isn't it? Even if I get a call now, it'll record." He froze. "Oh shit. The recording."
"I'll take care of it," Skinner said. "Don't worry. It isn't relevant evidence so I can just replace it with a new reel. Believe me, I don't want anyone else listening to it any more than you do."
"You going to be okay, Mulder?" Scully asked, rubbing her hand down Mulder's stomach. He shivered and nodded.
"Yeah. It's fine, Scully."
"This isn't a one-night stand, Mulder," Skinner said, letting him go but resting both hands on his shoulders for a moment, slowly massaging them. Mulder purred. "At least, I don't want it to be." He sounded distantly wistful, afraid that this might vanish in the morning and they would somehow go on with their lives as if this hadn't happened. Scully's hand touched his again on Mulder's shoulder.
"I don't, either," she said seriously.
"Then go on back to the van," Mulder said. "It's okay." He touched Scully's cheek gently, his thumb rubbing over her mouth. After a thoughtful moment, he leaned down and kissed her lips lightly, chastely, as if afraid she would refuse. "Another time?" he asked quietly, hopefully.
"You bet," she said with a smile. "You get some sleep and we'll talk about it later."
"Night, Scully," he whispered, and then turned around in Skinner's hands. He said nothing, just kissed the man passionately. Skinner welcomed it eagerly, surprised by Mulder's energy. When he broke the kiss, Skinner growled quietly, not wanting to let him go. "It's going to be such a bitch looking you in the eye on Monday without laughing," Mulder said with a sigh. Skinner smiled.
"You'll manage," Skinner said. He cleaned himself with the damp washcloth Scully had brought earlier, and hitched his jeans up to button his fly. He adjusted his sidearm out of habit and pulled his shirt on with a satisfied sigh, watching silently as Mulder pulled his sweatpants back up, ignoring his own shirt for the time being. "Ready to go, Agent Scully?" he asked, glancing at his subordinate.
"Yes, sir," she replied with a faint glitter of amusement in her pale eyes.
****
They returned to the van, and Skinner heard the van door slam behind him. He grunted when Scully embraced him hard, pressing up against his back. He went still, touching her arms.
"What is it?" he asked. He felt her shudder, her long sigh the only noise in the van for a long moment.
"You feel so good," she sighed. "I didn't expect a night of surveillance to turn into this." Her embrace relaxed a little. "I just feel a little overwhelmed." Skinner turned around and held her to him tightly.
"Christ, _you're_ overwhelmed," he muttered. "I never thought you would...that Mulder..." Scully drew back to look up into his eyes. There was something old and painful warring there.
"What?" she said gently. He looked away for a moment, then forced himself to meet her eyes again.
"I just...never thought you and Mulder would...would accept me like that. I mean...everybody can see what you have with each other. I just...learned to live with it." She gave him an odd look; understanding mixed with resignation and pleasure and anxiety. She let go of him and moved over to the other end of the van. Skinner let her put the space between them, taking the moment to remove the reel tape that had recorded Mulder's call. He put it in an empty canister and stuffed it into his own duffel bag.
Scully leaned against the van's wall. She looked at him for a long moment, arms folded. Skinner turned the chair around and sat on it backwards, arms resting on the back and looking at her silently. Finally he knew the source of her disquiet. "You and Mulder have never been intimate before, have you?" Skinner said wonderingly. "This is the first time." Scully nodded.
"The last time I saw him naked it was because he was wounded," she said, her voice tired, eyes looking inward even though she was gazing in his direction. "Five years of courtship and verbal foreplay. We've always known we were moving toward this. I just didn't expect it to be tonight. I guess after that long, you think maybe it's always in some indeterminate point in the future. Not now...just...later. Soon." Skinner grunted.
"I guess I was an unexpected variable, too," he said. "I sure as hell didn't expect it." She laughed quietly.
"I didn't either. But that's Mulder. He's the one with reckless guts. He took a hell of a risk, and won." She sighed. "That's the man I love." Skinner smiled at her.
"So," he said. "Tell me something. Where did you get that tattoo?"
They talked into the dawn, waiting for nothing in particular since they had no pressing urgency to go home. When dawn came, they called Mulder, folded up their surveillance, and went home to sleep.
****
Mulder glanced up from his desk as the office door opened. Skinner came into the room, glancing around in search of Scully but not finding her. He closed the door and approached Mulder slowly.
"Where's Agent Scully?" he asked.
"In the bathroom," Mulder said simply, shrugging. The events of Saturday morning were hot in the air between them, but undemanding. There would be other times, other nights, to return to the private realm they had all begun to explore. Skinner grunted, then put down on Mulder's desk the thin object he was holding. It was a jewel box with an unlabeled CD in it. The gold disc gleamed in the office light, and Mulder picked it up. "What's this, sir?"
"I burned that for you yesterday," Skinner said, slipping both hands into his trouser pockets and trying to sound casual, but his voice was low and his dark eyes glittered. "It's the recording we made on Saturday morning...your telephone call. I destroyed the reel tape, and that's what's left. I thought you might...like to add it to your collection."
Mulder broke into a broad grin, answered by Skinner's faint smile.
"Damn shame we didn't bug the inside of the van, too," he said. "Thank you, sir. It'll be my prize possession."
"You don't have to call me sir all the time," Skinner said, "not when we're alone like this."
"But I like calling you sir," Mulder said with a wicked gleam in his eye. Skinner gave him a wry look.
"Don't go there, Mulder," he said. "At least, not until we're off duty." He turned away, hearing Mulder's low chuckle. "I expect your report on my desk before two o'clock."
"Yes, sir," Mulder said, and Skinner left, closing the door behind him. Mulder toyed with the gold CD, spinning it on his finger. "As usual," he said to the empty office, "it will have big, conspicuous omissions where all the really good and unbelievable stuff happened." He laughed again softly, putting the CD back in its case.
The End
Part:
Characters: Mulder/Scully/Skinner
Rating: NC-17
Genre: X-Files
Original material copyright © 1998 A. Manley Haight
A Blast Furnace Production
ahaight@blastfurnace.org
Flames are welcome and are, in fact, encouraged for psychological study.
This story is not in any way intended to infringe on copyrights held by Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen Productions, Fox Television or 20th Century Fox. This story may be distributed only with prior permission of the author, and may not be posted to any archive, ftp site, or web page without the written permission of the author. This story is distributed for the individual personal entertainment of persons of legal age for viewing sexually explicit material in areas where such viewing is legal, and is not subject to purchase or sale by anyone.
(The author wishes to acknowledge Red Valerian, whose story "The Caveat Emporium" planted the seed for this idea.)
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"Sir, do you really think it's wise to be trapped in a van with a beautiful and stunningly intelligent female associate?"
"Keep talking like that, Mulder, and I'm going to come in there and make you eat your cell phone." That was Scully, and Skinner glanced at her from his business of rewinding the reel to reel. Scully was checking the line tapping electronics, displaying an expertise that was competence if not mastery. She looked exhausted, her hair hanging in her face, casual clothes rumpled. Her eyes were bright, but strained. They had all heard too much death and violence tonight. Mulder had called them and was trying to lighten the mood.
"Aw, come on, Scully, I'm dying here," Mulder moaned over the open phone channel. The sound of his voice came out through the van's audio system, not loud, but clear. "I can't watch TV because the cable's out and I already ate dinner. I've gone through everything I own at least twice already. I even read the articles. Jeez, what's left? Playing with myself?"
"Agent Mulder, do you think you could try to inject a little professionalism into this?" Skinner commented, knowing his voice would be picked up by the equipment. He had removed the reel tape and was testing the system now before installing another reel. He realized he sounded strangled, too, his voice sharper than he'd intended. Scully glanced at him but spoke to Mulder instead.
"I left you a couple of books when my shift ended this morning," Scully said. "'Dial M for Murder' and 'Doing Time on Maple Drive.'"
"Ha ha," Mulder said. "At least you've got some company out there in the van. I'm in here with cold pizza and a half a two-liter of Diet Pepsi, and a bunch of files from work." He said this last with a peculiar emphasis, teasingly referring to the fact that Skinner had given him a lot of extra crap to do after the latest expense report they had turned in. Skinner put up with a lot from his two most talented agents, but he drew the line at freight train theft and vehicular damage caused by thirty thousand pounds of peat moss.
"I hope you'll remember that the next time you decide to play a game of high speed chicken with an Apache gunship," Skinner replied.
"At least we got some evidence tonight, Mulder," Scully reminded her partner. Their latest UNSUB had cold-called Mulder last week, taunting the profiler, daring the man to discover him. It was not unknown behavior for serial killers, and Mulder had recommended a line tap to see if they could catch more of the calls and record them for information. The BSU was investigating the case itself, but had solicited Mulder's help after Mulder had become the UNSUB's sounding wall.
Scully had participated in the stakeout every night that week, with a different agent with her every time. Skinner had finally insisted on taking a shift himself, out of curiosity as much as anything. He disliked sitting behind his desk all the time while the people under him did all the dangerous and tedious work. His own work was just as boring in its own way, and for him, sitting in a truck all night long with the very real possibility that nothing interesting would happen was a nice change of pace.
Tonight they had hit pay dirt. The UNSUB had called again, bragging about his latest kill. It had been nauseating to listen to it, the man's visceral glee in his violence obvious in his voice. Mulder had been cool and calm throughout the call, even though Scully knew it would come back later to torment him. He had returned the taunting a little, playing the game, in order to elicit information. The UNSUB was smart and had not been easy to provoke. That, in itself, was useful knowledge and Scully knew it would help the profile.
The wait had been difficult. They had no way of knowing when the UNSUB would call, although Mulder had said he would only call at night, owing to the fact that the current profile indicated he had a professional day job, and would not risk calling from a location that could be easily traced, or a location where he could be easily discovered. Their trace equipment had been on, but the call had come from a cell phone, as Mulder predicted. They had been able to trap the originating account, but if the cell phone had been cloned, that information was useless. Mulder's latest prediction was that the cell phone's owner would be an innocent victim. Scully grimly had to concur.
"It's getting close to dawn," Mulder said, and she heard him yawn. "He's not going to call again today. The morning commute's going to start soon and he'll have to get a move on."
"We're packing up now," Scully sighed in agreement. She rubbed wearily at her eyes, aware of Skinner's concerned gaze on her.
"Okay. See you at work tomorrow? Don't do anything I wouldn't do." The channel clicked as Mulder hung up the cell.
"Is he always like that?" Skinner asked, sounding both peeved and intrigued.
"Whiny?" Scully asked with a faint chuckle. "Not always, sir."
"Not that," Skinner clarified. "The sexual innuendo."
"Oh," Scully said. "Yes, he's always like that."
"Doesn't it bother you?" he wondered. "If you'd told me, I could have --"
"No, sir, it doesn't bother me," she said. "Really," she added at her superior's dubious expression. He was a handsome man, even when he scowled. She wondered if he knew it, if he would believe anyone who told him. It wasn't a classical sort of handsomeness, but rather the magnificence of a man with a strong character. It was the beauty of fundamental good looks combined with a powerful intensity of personality that shone in his eyes and was displayed in the way he moved. He probably had no idea. Men like that usually didn't.
"He's your partner, Agent Scully," Skinner finally said with a slight shrug. "If you want to put up with it, it's fine with me." He was obviously in no mood to argue with her about something so ultimately trivial. Like her, he was dressed casually; in snug jeans and a turtleneck and Cat work boots. His sidearm was conspicuous at his left side, but she found it reassuring. Her own was nestled at her back, a familiar weight that she felt naked without.
"Actually, sir, I find it amusing," she said, turning away to pack her jacket and strewn books into her black duffel. "It's one of the things that makes knowing him entertaining."
"I admit I haven't spent as much time getting to know you and Agent Mulder as I would like," Skinner said, surprising her.
"Mulder's not as bad as people think," she said, her faint smile one of the very few Skinner had seen on her tonight. Even now it seemed forced, and he watched her for a moment.
"Are you all right, Agent Scully?" he asked her, point-blank. She paused after zipping the duffel, and straightened to look at him, brushing copper hair from her brow.
"Autopsying the bodies we've found is one thing," she said with a grim sigh. "I can put myself in a head space where it's just meat...just evidence to be examined. But listening to the UNSUB talking about it...describing what I saw done to that woman's body today..." She looked away. "I can never sleep after cases like this. I dream about it. About the victims, about the killer. It becomes a palette for all my own fears." She sighed again, one eyebrow arched as she gazed down at the duffel bag, her arms folded. "I'll be all right later, after the sun rises. It's always better in the daytime." Skinner nodded understandingly.
Suddenly the reel to reel machine came on with a thump, startling them, and began recording. A dial tone could be heard and then a number was quickly tapped in --speed dial from the sound of it. Skinner and Scully looked at each other quizzically. Mulder was making a call _out_ from _inside_ his apartment.
"Pizza?" Scully wondered, trying to decide what would be programmed into Mulder's redial that he would be calling at four in the morning.
"Surely not at this time of day. Besides, he said he ate already," Skinner replied from his seat in the chair. The phone was answered on the other end, and they both went silent to listen.
"Hello," said a breathy, sexy voice, "this is Tanya. What's keeping you up tonight, lover? Can I kiss it and make it better?" Skinner's eyes widened and he looked at Scully again. Scully covered her face with both hands. She was going to kill Mulder.
"Hi Tanya," came Mulder's voice, rich with amusement. "It's Marty. Listen, I have something really special in mind tonight. Can you get Jack on the line, too?" Scully could almost hear the sound of a cash register chinging.
"Sure thing, Marty," Tanya said with a detectable smile in her voice. "Just a minute." There was a brief pause, and then a man's deep, warm voice joined them.
"Hello Marty," Jack said pleasantly. "We haven't heard from you in a long time. Tanya says you want something special." The sexuality in the man's voice was raw and hot, and Scully felt her sex throb in empathy. She dared not look up. She didn't want to know what was in Skinner's face. "How special do you want it to be, Marty?"
"What in the hell is he doing?" Skinner growled.
"Let me tell you who you are," Mulder said suggestively, "and then I'll tell you what I want."
"Go for it, lover," Tanya said. Skinner got up with another inarticulate noise of anger and moved quickly for the rear door of the van with the intention of going up to Mulder's apartment to end this foolishness. He never made it out the back, Mulder's next words freezing him where he stood.
"Jack," Mulder said, "your name is Walter. You're an ex-Marine...six feet tall, with the darkest, most gorgeous eyes I've ever seen in my life. You're my boss, and most days you act like it, tearing me a new one every time I screw up, clenching your jaw even though you have no idea how sexy it is when you do it." He wasn't talking to Jack anymore, probably never really had been. He was speaking directly to Skinner, fully conscious of the phone being tapped by his boss and partner in the van below his apartment. His voice was low, thoughtful and sensuous, guaranteed to make anybody horny, male, female, gay or straight. "You're fantastically muscular and it shows in the way you move --there isn't a suit in the world that can hide it. God, sometimes it hurts just to be around you. You talk through your teeth like you want to bite something, and I wish it were me. You walk with that surety and ease of men who fear nothing and yet I have never known you to be arrogant. Why do I think you have no idea that you're so fucking handsome? Ask anybody, sir. Ask that women next to you."
Scully looked up then, and saw that Skinner was watching her from the rear of the van, one hand on the door he had forgotten about. His eyes had darkened, his expression reflecting a remarkable tableau of astonishment, embarrassment, curiosity and arousal. He would never have spoken it, but his eyes asked her, /Is it true?/ and she nodded slightly, agreeing with Mulder's assessment of their superior.
Suddenly he shook himself and moved back toward the reel to reel. This couldn't be allowed to go on. It was so unprofessional they could all get in an enormous amount of trouble, and Skinner was the one with the authority and the duty to stop it. He reached out for the tape machine, intending to stop the recording and the phone tap and prevent any further progress of this dangerous fantasy.
A small hand clamped around his wrist, stopping him before he could switch the machine off, and he glanced up into Scully's eyes. God almighty, he couldn't even move in the flame of that stare.
"I want to hear this," she said.
"Tanya," came Mulder's sultry voice again after Jack had finished chuckling appreciatively at Mulder's character description. "Let me tell you about yourself."
"Agent Scully..." Skinner said, getting lost in her pale sapphire-grey eyes. Those eyes were hard, passionate. She was not going to let Skinner stop this, no matter his responsibility and the threat of the evidence that was being collected while the tape rolled.
"Please," she whispered. He sat down hard in the chair.
"Your name is Dana," Mulder said, his voice winding into both of them like smoke. "You scare me with how smart you are...maybe because I love women like that so much, and it's so perverted, but every time you say something intellectual I get hard." Mulder laughed a bit, amused by his own response, but his voice sobered again in the next sentence. "I mean really hard. You never notice, or maybe you're too kind to let me know that you've seen it. I trust you like no one else, with my life, my soul. You make me work for everything and I love that challenge, the way you look at me when I say something crazy, the way you back me up when you know I'm right. Even Walter knows better than to argue with you when you're on a tear."
Skinner chuckled, startling Scully this time. She had let go of his wrist and he was leaning back in the chair, obviously enjoying listening to Scully getting the same treatment he had from Mulder's gifted tongue.
"Did I mention that women with guns are a turn-on?" Mulder went on, sounding innocent but the heat in his voice made Scully's gut clench. "Summer's the best, when it's hot outside and you wear light clothes. I can smell you...bet you didn't know that. All men can smell women like that. Heat makes it stronger...I can smell it under your perfume and shampoo and the detergent you wash your clothes in. Bet you a thousand dollars Walter can smell it, too. Not that he would ever admit it."
Scully had retreated back into the corner of the van where she was sitting cross-legged on her jacket, listening to Mulder's voice wash over her and fill her with heat and desire. It was sweet torment. He was fucking them with his voice, both of them. Skinner didn't dare look at her, his arms folded across his broad chest and his head bowed now as this went beyond a humorous teasing and began to touch even him in a deep, dark, secret place. He needed this as much as she did, to hear this encouragement, this delighted praise of them as sexual beings. His jaw was working silently, clenched hard to keep back something. She wondered what he was holding onto. Could he smell her, like Mulder said? Right now? She was so horny her sex felt like a furnace, throbbing hard every few seconds, responding to Mulder's voice...and Skinner's closeness.
"Guess that's enough foreplay," Mulder chuckled, his quiet laughter filling the van. "Know what I want?"
"What do you want?" Jack asked. His voice had changed, trying to fill the fantasy Mulder had created. It was a startlingly good impression of how Skinner sometimes sounded, tension and steel radiating from the tone.
"I want you to fuck each other," Mulder said, his voice rough with eagerness and nervous longing. "I have always, always wanted to see that. Guess I can't see..." He laughed again, shakily. "But hearing's the next best thing. Do it for me, Walter. Dana. Fuck for me. For yourselves. Do it."
Skinner reached for the tape machine again, panic filling his belly this time. The power of this had shocked him, the power of his own painful need and loneliness and the truth of the fact that his dreams for the past few years had been full of these two magnificent agents under his direction. He couldn't let this be exposed, and if this went on for a second longer, he was lost.
Scully's hand grabbed his again, and he gasped, jerking his gaze up to hers...to discover she was clad only in her button-up denim shirt, the tails of it not quite concealing the fact that her panties had been abandoned somewhere. Her bare, finely muscled legs were the color of warm cream. She held his eyes, her own like blue fire, and pulled his hand between her legs into her warm, wet sex. She pulled his glasses off, set them on the shelf with his book. Then she pushed two of his fingers up into her, her legs trembling with the pleasure of it and she gave a long, shuddering gasp.
"Wouldn't you love to do it in Walter's office?" Mulder asked, his voice like the rasp of their own subconscious bringing buried fantasies to the surface and brazenly speaking them.
He could smell her now, as Mulder had said he could, and he looked up into Scully's fantastic, desperate eyes. She was still holding his wrist, keeping his hand pressed against her sex. Her chest shook with each breath, her need for him raw and obvious. He had been hard before, long before Scully's approach, but his cock quivered now. He could not possibly resist this. No man should be asked to resist this. "She's hot for you, Walter," Mulder said prophetically. "She wants you to take her on your desk. She needs it, Walter, and so do you."
Skinner turned in his chair swiftly, grabbing Scully's shirttail with his free hand and pulling her to stand between his knees. He pushed another finger into her with a growl, and she leaned her head back with a cry that ripped through him. "I can see that look on your face, Walter, that hot look in your eyes," Mulder purred. "Dana, how do you look? Oh, how do you look when you want his cock?" Tanya obliged with an extraordinarily accurate and sexy description, but Skinner and Scully weren't listening to them. Skinner had a feral, delighted grin on his face, fascinated by Scully's sensuality.
"She looks divine, Mulder," Skinner growled in a low voice, answering the yearning demand that had come across the phone line. "And she sounds like a lioness and I wish you could see what I'm doing to her." Mulder couldn't hear them in the van, but Scully's vaginal muscles clamped around Skinner's fingers in response to his voice and his words. His thumb found her clit, gently, and she cried out again, leaning forward to bow her head over his face, her flaming hair brushing his cheek and temple. "You are so beautiful," he whispered fiercely, his free hand on her thigh now, stroking her sleek, muscular leg.
"Lock the door, Walter," Mulder purred. "Go back across the floor and grab her, kiss her hard, let her know she's yours. Dana, you want him so bad, your hands are already on his belt. He's hard for you, big cock pressing into his stomach, so obvious in his pants. He wants to be inside you, Dana..."
Scully took his face in her hands and kissed him deeply, parting his lips to taste him obscenely. He groaned and she nipped at his lip when she pulled back. Mulder's voice had made her so hot, and it was such a waste to just sit in the van with this magnificent, male creature and not do something about it. It had been obvious to her that Skinner was horny. Women could see that in men, too. He was too much of a gentleman to come on to her, but she wanted him to understand that it was okay, that his touch would never, ever be refused.
"So are you," she panted, responding to his fierce whisper of adoration. She kissed him again lightly, stroking her hand down his arm to where he was pleasuring her. "God, you're good at this."
"I like doing it," he said, his eyes fierce and intent on her face. His fingers filled her sweetly, moving slowly in that exquisite mixture of strength and gentleness. His thumb was light on her clit, teasing, using her own wetness to drive her insane.
"There's nothing between you but her panties, Walter," Mulder growled. "Push 'em aside and push into her. He's got something for you, Dana, get his shirt open so it won't get in the way." Mulder was laughing, and making soft noises. "Oh Christ..."
"God, he's jerking off," Scully gasped, really realizing it for the first time. "He's going to come thinking about us fucking. Oh...God..." Just the thought of it, the image of Mulder sitting on his couch with his jeans shoved down, hand around his hard cock because of her, brought fire up from deep in her belly.
"Oh, Dana, you gonna come?" Skinner breathed. "Come on, do it for Mulder. Do it for me. Come on, Dana, yes!" She surrendered herself to Skinner's strength as the climax slammed into her, leaning on him, bowing her head over his shoulder as she howled her pleasure and release. He held her easily, and kept toying with her all through it, gentling the pressure but not stopping, and she whimpered and bit his neck, making him purr. "Oh, you're sweet, you're sweet," he whispered.
"Fuck her, Walter," Mulder growled. "Put her down on her back on your desk and slide that big cock into her. Come on, push, she's so tight, she wants it, Walter. Dana, take him, take him inside, he's hot and big and he's spreading you open, pushing every inch of himself up into you. He's gonna buck hard, Dana, hold onto him!"
"Fuck me," Scully whispered in his ear. He got up immediately, nostrils flaring. He withdrew his fingers from her sex and pushed her back to the van's inside wall. He was already unbuttoning his jeans with his other hand, quick and sure. His eyes never left hers. He knew she was going to turn away from him, to take him from behind, but he wanted her to see him first.
"Look at me," he hissed. "Look at what you're going to get." With one hand, he pushed his jeans and underwear down to bare his cock and balls, cupping them for a moment in his large palm. He relished the way she licked her lips, breaking her gaze away from his face to drink him in. He pulled his turtleneck off over his head, smiling tightly as he remembered Mulder's advice to keep it out of the way. He sighed in delight as she touched him, one hand closing around his cock to caress it, the other hand rubbing up his muscular chest, making this intimate contact for a few moments. He was unbuttoning her shirt, slipping it down her shoulders, pausing to unfasten her lace bra as she fondled him slowly. All the clothing went into a chair, and then Scully turned to present her back to him, hands spread-eagled on the wall.
"How does she feel, Walter?" Mulder demanded roughly. "Can you feel how much she wants you? Give her everything you've got, Walter, she deserves it."
Skinner leaned over her back, kissing her shoulder blade lusciously as he nuzzled the tip of his cock against her sex. She was so ready for him, a shudder rippling through her body as he nudged himself about an inch inside her, teasing.
"Please," she gasped. "Please." He loved hearing it, knowing that she felt like this because of him, because she wanted him. He put both hands on her hips to steady her for a moment, then rammed himself deep into her all at once. She shoved back against him immediately, gasping hard and clawing the wall.
"Fuck yes!" he exclaimed, letting his breath out in a huge pant. "Oh, Scully...Dana..." Her head turned over her shoulder, meeting his eyes for a moment. Something wicked flashed in her azure stare and a growl wound its way up out of his chest in reply.
"Do it, sir," she purred, deliberately using the honorific instead of his name. "On your desk. Just like he says."
"God, I can see it," Mulder panted. He sounded desperate, hungry, approaching the edge on which they were going to join him. "I can see you. Oh, you're wild, aren't you Dana? I know you are. And he's great, isn't he?" Mulder laughed breathlessly. "Big and strong and vulgar. You are, aren't you, Walter?"
"Hell yes," Skinner growled, bucking in and out of Scully quickly, savagely. "Oh yes." He was breathing hard against Scully's shoulder, kissing and biting her. He slowed his pace after a few moments of that animal ferocity, his breath leaving him in a controlled, trembling hiss as he fought to prolong this. She was so hot around his cock, her voice making quiet, passionate noises at him, wanting him.
"Like that?" Mulder teased. "Huh?"
"Yes," Skinner and Scully both managed, responding to the pure heat of Mulder's demand. Scully chuckled hoarsely and Skinner grinned.
"Like that?" Mulder hissed.
"Yes!"
"Oh God, I'm close," Mulder gasped, sounding surprised and elated. "God, please! Do it for me, Walter, come on, Dana."
"God, I'm going to," Scully wailed. "Please, please!"
"Yeah, don't worry, I'm there with you, Scully," Skinner rasped, savoring every moment, his heart racing, pounding hard in his chest. "Don't worry, come on --"
"Fuck, I'm gonna come," Mulder cried out. "Oh yeah! Oh yeah I'm gonna --" His voice trailed off into a full-throated yell of ecstasy. It was an utterly vulnerable sound, exposing his heart and private core for the duration of that sweet howl. There was loneliness in it, and joy and love and raw relief.
Skinner matched him almost in the same instant, biting down hard on Scully's shoulder and snarling as he exploded into her. He wanted it to never stop, to stay buried in her all night and keep this heat and sweetness to himself. She was so fantastic and so magnificent. He had never felt so totally human and yet so out of control. No animal could experience this profound awe, and he wanted to laugh with the triumph of it.
Scully felt him let go into her, hard pulses filling her to overflowing. His teeth found her shoulder blade, hot breath and tongue and harsh voice marking her brutally in the throes of his release. All of it, together, the sound of Mulder's delight, made her come with an intensity she hadn't felt in so long there was no memory of it inside her. This moment made a new memory, a peak of sensation to compare all others against. She heard herself scream, like nothing she had ever done before even when alone. Both of them were wondrous, both men violent and delicious in their own way. She couldn't have chosen between them.
The wake of it was sleepy, lazy. Mulder recovered after a few moments and thanked Tanya and Jack with a shaking voice. His smile was audible, as was his terror and understanding of what he had done. Perhaps the last two were only discernable to Skinner and Scully, but they were not really hearing him just then.
He waited for her to withdraw from him a little, and then he pulled out of her with a heavy sigh. She leaned back against him and he embraced her, resting his mouth against her soft hair. They were both damp with sweat, still panting quietly. Scully was shuddering, still not quite all there in the fiery aftermath of her climax.
"Good?" he asked her softly. She only groaned in reply, but it was a sensuous, feline noise that made fire ripple up his back. "Good," he murmured, smiling against her temple and kissing her gently. She turned around in his arms suddenly and pulled his head down for a harder kiss, and he held her to him tightly, devouring her.
They realized that Mulder was ending his call, responding to Tanya's hope that he would call again. He promised he would, then said something that rent Scully's heart.
"I hope it was good for you," Mulder whispered. Tanya and Jack said something, but Scully knew who Mulder had really been talking to. She looked up at Skinner, who regarded her with an emotion in his dark eyes that was much like hers.
The tape machine gave a thunk, indicating that the call had ended and the equipment had gone back into wait mode.
Skinner started to pull up his jeans and underwear, which were still around his knees, but she stopped him silently, just looking at him, at the proof of her passion and his own on his slick, glistening cock. He did not seem embarrassed, just went still to let her look.
"Still hard," she observed, not quite a question, and glanced up into his eyes mischievously. He smiled back, a little wryly.
"Probably will be for a while," he admitted. "I'm like that. Might be able to come again...maybe three." He shrugged a little. "Depends."
"I can think of something you should do with it, then," Scully said.
"Oh?" he said, and she pulled him down to whisper in his ear. His smile broadened ferally.
****
Mulder sighed carefully, the breath shivering out of him. The cordless phone was on the couch beside him, forgotten. His semen was cooling on his belly, thick and comforting. He had known as soon as he had picked up the phone that night that he was crossing a line that he could never retreat back across. It was the kind of event that would change his life completely, for good or ill, and he had known for several months now that such an act was necessary or none of them would be able to go forward in their lives.
He was so, so scared. The fear was omnipresent, enveloping, so deep it stopped feeling like ordinary terror and became something else, like a living animal wound up inside his belly, engulfing his entire body warmly.
Lots of things could happen now. The dawn could rise in silence, and the next time he talked to them, they would act as if nothing had happened. That might be the safest thing. He could get reprimanded for unprofessional behavior while on duty. He wondered if Skinner would humiliate him by producing the taped evidence of his innermost fantasies. If the man got angry enough, oh yes, he would indeed. Scully might flay him alive for embarrassing her like that, especially in front of their boss.
He got up and went into the bathroom to clean himself up, wiping his chest and stomach with a warm washcloth, catching a look at himself in the mirror. He looked marvelously sated. Whatever else his terror had done to him, it had given him the most powerful orgasm of his life, and he could still see the remnants of it shining in his hazel eyes. He swallowed hard, then smiled faintly at himself before going back out to find a clean shirt and some fresh underwear and sweatpants.
He sat back down on the couch, discovering he was very tired. What was it they used to call him at Oxford? A total wanking nutter. He glanced at the clock. God, it was five in the morning. Still a good three hours of darkness left.
The sound of a key being slid into the lock on his front door made him look over sharply. The key turned, making a hard sound as the deadbolt slapped aside and the door was thrown open violently.
Mulder leapt to his feet, and Scully flew into the room. His mouth opened soundlessly at the savage, intense glitter of her blue eyes. He saw his own immolation in them, and his larynx tensed as if to speak, to deny any malice to what he had done.
It was Skinner coming into the apartment behind her --and the look on his face --that killed the words in his throat. The door slammed shut, closed by the strong hand of that powerful man, and the dark eyes turned back to him, burning like oil fire.
"Sir," he croaked, not knowing what he was going to say after that. They were both coming toward him, moving like predators, intent on exacting a price for the torture he had inflicted on them. The back of his ever-observant mind noted that Scully looked disheveled, her hair tousled and her shirt untucked from her jeans. Skinner looked as immaculate as humanly possible in his turtleneck and jeans, but his eyes were gleaming with a naked passion that had never before breached the man's steel control within Mulder's witness.
/Oh Christ, they did, they _did it_,/ Mulder thought frantically.
"Shut up, Agent Mulder," Skinner spat, and reached out for him at the last minute to claim his body with both hands and kiss him breathless.
Mulder groaned, shocked by the hard, urgent mouth that devoured his. He tasted the sex on Skinner's tongue --not anything as literal as the salt of Scully's skin or the metallic tang of her blood --but the hunger of the kiss was enough proof. They had done it in the van, and Skinner wasn't finished. For him, it had just been a taste, a teasing bait dangled in front of him like the carrot before the mule's nose.
Mulder had just started to slide exploring hands around Skinner's back when the older man broke the kiss and drew back to look at him, eyes flaming.
"You sound so good when you come, Fox," Skinner purred at him. The sound of his name, uttered like that from the throat of this powerful, beautiful man, made Mulder's knees buckle. Skinner wouldn't let him fall, pushing him backward against the edge of his desk, and kissed him again. When it was reluctantly broken again, Mulder's breath caught as Skinner grabbed his shirt and dragged it off over his head, tossing it onto the couch behind him without looking. Then he reached past Mulder and shoved things aside on the desktop. Papers and books and videotapes gave way to flat surface, and Mulder grunted hard as he was turned around and pushed roughly down on his stomach, his hands grasping for the desk's edges reflexively.
He could hardly breathe, his heart racing, pounding into the desk beneath his chest so hard it almost hurt. A moan wrenched past his throat as his sweatpants and underwear were roughly dragged down, Skinner's hands warm and efficient. His cock hung free, not touching the side of the desk, swollen half-erect from the violence and domination of Skinner's lust so fully displayed. Even his recent orgasm couldn't stop him from responding.
A hand came down forcefully in the middle of his naked back, holding him down, making it still harder to breathe, and he panted in short gasps. He heard the rustle of clothes, realized Skinner was removing his own shirt, then opening his jeans and shoving them down. His breath caught again when he saw Scully standing to one side, watching the entire thing silently, her arms folded imperiously. He couldn't look away from her gaze, her eyes blue like the flame of an arc welder. A shiver rippled up his thighs and back, coming back down to settle in his groin. His cock swelled more, tightening. Something long and thick and hard and hot pressed up against Mulder's buttocks, and he inhaled sharply.
"Think you can take that up your ass, Agent Mulder?" Skinner wondered. One of his hands was still planted in the center of Mulder's back. The other rested lightly on his flank, thumb slowly rubbing. The voice was like polished steel. "Want me to put it in you?"
"Jesus, yes," Mulder gasped, without really thinking about everything the question implied. He knew only the immediacy of it --this gorgeous man fucking him.
Scully watched with the trembling pleasure of a dark fantasy come to life before her. Mulder was desperate, brought to this breathless obedience so quickly by the two of them that it made her mouth dry. She felt a rush of power over him, that she and Skinner could open this door into Mulder's soul so easily. Skinner's eyes met hers, feral, demanding.
"Find something," he commanded. She nodded. They had discussed this before coming up to the apartment. She left the two men to go look for something appropriate.
Mulder felt warmth against his neck as Skinner leaned over his back. Soft breath drifted over his nape as Skinner breathed deep and fast. "You're insane, you know," Skinner rumbled, "pulling a stunt like that. All the things that could have gone wrong. You could have read us wrong, Mulder. You could very easily have misread me. People smarter than you have done it."
"But I saw the truth, didn't I?" Mulder panted back at him, his voice raspy with excitement. "That's what I do, sir. That's what I am. I search for truth. Sometimes I believe the lie, but when the truth is put before me, I know it for what it is. Do you think you could parade around in front of me for so long and not show me your heart with every step, every breath? I know you, Walter Sergei Skinner. I know you like I know her, just differently."
Scully came back with a bottle of sex lube, which she put down on the desk next to Mulder's shoulder with a loud noise. Skinner chuckled, reaching for it.
"Perfect," he growled. "You don't know me, Mulder." He was taking some of the lube on his fingers, warming it. He touched Mulder's anus gently, stroking, and Mulder drew a shocked, harsh breath. "That's why you did this tonight. You want to find out who I am."
"No, not that," Mulder said, his voice strangled as Skinner slid a finger into him. "Oh God," he hissed, writhing against the touch, encouraging it, shamelessly reacting to the exquisite, slippery pleasure of it. "I want to find out if you'll let me see what I know is inside you. Please. God, show me that --" He cried out as a second finger joined the first, spreading him open.
"Like that, Fox?" Skinner asked him, voice like a dragon's sigh. Mulder's back arched as a third finger nudged gently for entry, his hands clamped around the edges of the desk, knuckles white.
"Fuck, oh yes," Mulder breathed, almost inaudibly. "Oh fuck that's so good, God, don't stop, oh Jesus..."
"You are so shameless," Skinner growled, loving this wanton display of desire and raw need. "God, you're beautiful. Come on, take three, Fox, you can do it." He was going slow, but pushing relentlessly, most of the width of his hand disappearing inside the tight passage.
"Don't stop don't stop don't stop," Mulder groaned. He clenched muscles around the invading fingers, and heard Skinner's sharp hiss.
"Not in a million years, Fox," Skinner promised, turning his hand to probe for Mulder's prostate. He found it, and grinned at the yelp it elicited. Mulder surged forward on the desk, almost rising up even against the weight of Skinner's hand on his back. "Gotcha, Fox. Be still and let me fuck you."
"God, do it," Mulder panted. "Fuck me, please, God you don't know how long I've wanted you to..." Skinner gave a quick, grim smile.
"Yes, and I'm going to do it in front of your partner," Skinner said, aware that Mulder was keeping his eyes closed to avoid addressing the fact of her presence. "She wants to watch us. If you have a problem with that you'd better tell me now."
Mulder forced himself to open his eyes and look at Scully. She was leaning against the edge of the desk, her head cocked to one side, pale eyes intent and hungry and envious and loving. She loved him. It was so obvious in her face. It was one thing to bend over and get sweetly fucked; he didn't have to look Skinner in the eye the whole time. Scully would have a view of this that people seldom earned. Yet, if he couldn't trust her with himself like this, who could he trust? Mulder swallowed hard. Skinner still had three fingers inside him, but was just moving them gently right now, waiting for Mulder's answer.
"Okay, Scully?" Mulder asked her, softly, asking for permission, asking for her to tell him she was enjoying this. They had yet to make love to each other, and here was their boss getting first crack at it.
"Yeah, Mulder," she whispered back. He heard the smile that wasn't on her face. She was too busy being aroused by what she was witnessing. It wasn't a carnal arousal, but something much more visceral in its own way, feeding a craving she possessed but never sated because the methods for doing so were so rare and complicated. She was watching her boss screw her partner, and she could never have explained to anyone why it satisfied her, or indeed exactly what itch it was scratching. "It's okay. Ask me later how many nights I've stayed up fantasizing this exact moment." Mulder's eyes widened and Skinner growled, amused.
"Relax, Fox," Skinner said, sliding his fingers out and accepting the damp washcloth Scully handed him without looking at her. "I'm not going to tease you anymore." He smiled wickedly, guiding his cock into place carefully. Mulder closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again, very deliberately meeting Scully's gaze.
"Do it," Mulder growled low, staring at her. "Please, God..."
He was impaled, slowly, deliciously. His mouth opened in astonishment --it was so good, oh mother of God, it was so sweet and it had been so long and Scully was watching him. He held her eyes, biting his lip and fighting not to look away. He wanted to just shut his eyes, feeling as though it was a choice between that and holding in a lot of what he was feeling. But he had chosen to show her, and he knew now that to deny her any of it, even the smallest part, would be a declaration that he felt she was unworthy of him. So he kept his eyes open, a gasp tearing out of him as the emotions and the physical pleasure ripped him open for her witness, naked to the core. Skinner let out a long breath through clenched teeth and sank himself to the root with a harsh groan.
"All right?" Skinner asked him, voice strained as he held himself still, thighs trembling like a stallion in heat.
"Fine," Mulder said, still looking at Scully. There were unshed tears in her eyes. She knew what he was showing her, saw his soul and heart in his gaze and understood the real depth of his unspoken commitment. "Stop holding back, Walter." He heard the surprised hiss from the older man, and then the big cock inside him was sharply withdrawn. He gave a wild cry as he was speared again, this time hard and swift and brutal. Skinner's grunt of effort was buried in Mulder's shout, and he breathed a laugh.
"If you insist, Fox," Skinner snarled, and bucked again. It didn't stop --long, hard, intense thrusts that slapped against his rump, Skinner's balls jostling his own.
Scully felt her gut clench savagely at the erotic howl that tore from Mulder's throat, his hands gripped around the edges of the desk so tightly she wouldn't have been surprised to see indentations in the wood afterward. Skinner knew what he was doing, by God. This was no quick, animalistic fuck. Skinner was thoughtful, conscious, in every hard, sharp thrust. It wasn't particularly fast, or even rhythmic. Each buck was unexpected, the brief pauses in between filled with relish and control and a total consciousness of what was transpiring.
That was what Mulder was responding to --not the sex itself, but the weight and passion and intensity of Skinner's awareness and desire. Skinner wanted this. He was enjoying it.
"Oh Christ, I can feel that," Mulder panted, his voice strangled as Skinner put both hands on the desk on either side of him and leaned down a little.
"What?" Skinner hissed, curious, holding himself deep for a moment and then bucking again, harder than before. Mulder gave a sharp laugh with the thrust.
"That," Mulder said. "Your possession."
"Is that what I'm doing, Agent Mulder?" Skinner wondered. He bucked again, provoking a cry this time. "Possessing you?"
"Fuck yes," Mulder growled, "and it's the sweetest thing in the world, you bastard. You know it. You know how bad I want it."
"I do now," Skinner rasped.
"Then come on," Mulder said through clenched teeth, his nostrils flaring. "Finish it. Come inside me and own me, damn you. Own me." It was a demand, rough, almost a shout. Scully heard the pleading in it, too, disguised beneath the savagery.
Mulder was making feral, strangled noises; sounds of pleasure straight out of his dreams. He whimpered and groaned, and Scully heard gratitude from deep in his soul, a love and joy so great it made her hurt sweetly to hear him. Skinner leaned down over his back again, pausing in his thrusts to kiss gently between Mulder's sweat-slicked shoulders.
"Let me hear it, Mulder," Skinner murmured. He used the name he felt was safe, the one Mulder would respond to best right now. His voice was like warm iron, quiet but unyielding. "Let it out. I know you want to scream." Just the words made Mulder emit a low, keening wail of delight and hunger, and Skinner growled softly. "Oh, let me hear it, please. I want to know that I make you feel like that." Without warning, Skinner pushed hard into him, and Mulder's voice rose in a howl of desperation.
"You let go for me and I'll let go for you," Mulder snarled. "I want to know that I can push you, too." Skinner growled again, a low, gravelly sigh breathed against Mulder's furrowed spine. His eyes closed slowly, and he started to move again, this time letting his body take the rhythm it wanted. He wanted to give this man everything, to show both him and Scully the passion that lived beneath his discipline. He let out the growl he'd been suppressing --a continuous, dangerous purr. He had to rise up a little to get the depth he wanted, bucking harder and faster with each breath.
"Show me, Mulderrrr," he growled. "I'll give you all I've got, Fox. You want to hear me, too, huh? Want to hear how good you feel and how bad I want you?"
"Yes!" Mulder shouted. "Oh God, yes! God, you feel so good, oh Christ!" He made a sound Scully had never heard from him, even in his most joyous moments; a full-throated whoop of triumph and delight, and Skinner laughed.
"Yeah, Fox!" He was grunting low, the need for release claiming him and delivering waves of hot pleasure through his body. "You're mine, Fox. Right now nobody owns you but me. I'm gonna come inside you, Fox. You want to hear that? Huh?"
"Yes!"
"Want to hear me come, Fox?"
"Christ, yeah!"
Scully was certainly not a stranger to a man's passions, but she had never seen anyone enjoy sex as much as these two men were enjoying this. Skinner had been so delicious with her in the van. She hadn't known there really were men like that in the world. His eyes were alight with a wildness and joy that could not be mistaken for mere carnal lust. She wondered if Mulder's motives for doing this tonight had been born of something more complex and more compassionate than just a lewd impulse. Mulder had often seen things she had not, been aware of nuances and subtleties in people that escaped the notice of everyone else. He had been so right about her, hadn't he?
Skinner made an amazing sound, a soft "hurr" of gentle surprise.
"Gonna come for you, Fox," he whispered. His thrusts slowed in those quick heartbeats of the climax's approach. Then he let out a yell to match Mulder's, a full octave deeper, a sound to rattle the windows and make Scully's eyes go wide. Mulder was silent, arched back, eyes closed in an strangely relaxed expression of bliss as he accepted Skinner's release into him.
Skinner's roar ended suddenly on a strangled groan and a soft, trembling laugh. He gasped for another breath, bowed over Mulder's back, the orgasm fading quickly. Mulder had collapsed, limp, on the desktop, purring low in his throat like a big cat.
Even in the exhausted wake of that blinding ecstasy, Mulder was still acutely aware of Skinner's presence over him and inside him. Skinner's forehead was resting between his shoulder blades. He could feel the older man's hard breaths against his damp skin, heard the sound of swallowing as Skinner gulped to return some moisture to his tongue.
Mulder opened his eyes, knowing Scully would still be there. She was almost panting, too, just standing there watching, one of her hands clenched around the end of the desk where she stood. Their eyes met for a long moment, naked and open, and Mulder grinned.
"Okay if I pull out?" Skinner asked quietly. Mulder nodded wordlessly, moaning again as the big cock inside him withdrew slowly. "C'mere, Fox," Skinner said, coaxing him up off the desk. He didn't have the strength to do it himself just then, but Skinner held him, strong arms around his chest and belly, keeping him close. He could feel Skinner's wet cock pressing into his buttocks. "Is it all right if I call you that?" Skinner asked, whispering into his ear. Mulder let his head loll back against Skinner's shoulder, eyes closed.
"Mm hm," Mulder replied lazily. Scully smiled at them, basking in Skinner's protectiveness and Mulder's unselfconscious, naked relaxation.
"You've got special dispensation," Scully said to Skinner. "I'm impressed."
"You mean you don't?" Skinner said, genuinely surprised. He knew that Mulder didn't let people call him Fox, but surely Scully was allowed to, after everything else. Scully shrugged slightly.
"I've never asked, and he's never offered."
"Maybe you should ask," Mulder murmured, smiling, but he still had his eyes closed. Skinner held his hand out to Scully, inviting her closer. He knew his two agents needed to renew their own bond in this private moment. She accepted, taking his strong hand and moving up against Mulder's body. She put her hand on Mulder's chest, and he gasped softly.
"Why do you hate your name so much?" she wondered as his eyes opened. They were dark with spent passion and love.
"I don't hate it," he said, straightening from Skinner a little to bow his head to hers gently, their temples touching. "It's a special name that speaks to a special part of me. I make people call me Mulder because it's less personal." He smiled, holding her face in his hands. "And yet when you call me that it feels more intimate than anything else. That's what you've done to me, Scully. What we've done to each other. Call me Fox. You earned the right a long time ago, and it's just like you to respect me enough not to ask."
"You're beautiful, Fox," she whispered, looking at his body, his trusting stillness, the way he was letting Skinner hold him. His eyes were bright and gentle, hair plastered to his neck and forehead by the sweat of his lovemaking with Skinner. His penis was half-erect, but he hadn't come. Once a night was about all he could manage, even with Skinner's magnificent attention. She stroked his throat and jaw, feeling more intimate with him in this moment than if they had also made love. Wasn't this lovemaking, too? This quiet, sacred moment between the three of them?
"Thank you," Mulder said sincerely, his voice soft.
"For telling you you're beautiful?" she wondered.
"For everything. For coming in here tonight like this." He leaned back against Skinner again, turning his mouth into the older man's neck to kiss him softly. "You too, you gorgeous bastard. God, you're good." Skinner wore a secretive smile as he hugged Mulder close to him and let his jaw and ear be kissed and nibbled.
"You look very pleased with yourself," Scully said to Skinner wryly, stroking his hand where it rested on Mulder's chest. His ebony eyes flicked to her, and his faint smile deepened a little.
"Tonight I got the two things I want most in the world," Skinner said. The contentment in his low voice was rich and relaxed.
"Gosh, I hope we can give you more than two," Mulder said deadpan, and then flinched away with a laugh when Skinner pinched him in a ticklish spot. Scully giggled.
"We really should go back to the van," Skinner muttered, looking at Scully. "I don't even want to think about which regulations we're violating by abandoning a stakeout." Mulder sighed heavily.
"Once again, cold, harsh reality intrudes," Mulder said with mock gravity. Skinner pulled him close again and kissed his neck. "The tape machine's still on, isn't it? Even if I get a call now, it'll record." He froze. "Oh shit. The recording."
"I'll take care of it," Skinner said. "Don't worry. It isn't relevant evidence so I can just replace it with a new reel. Believe me, I don't want anyone else listening to it any more than you do."
"You going to be okay, Mulder?" Scully asked, rubbing her hand down Mulder's stomach. He shivered and nodded.
"Yeah. It's fine, Scully."
"This isn't a one-night stand, Mulder," Skinner said, letting him go but resting both hands on his shoulders for a moment, slowly massaging them. Mulder purred. "At least, I don't want it to be." He sounded distantly wistful, afraid that this might vanish in the morning and they would somehow go on with their lives as if this hadn't happened. Scully's hand touched his again on Mulder's shoulder.
"I don't, either," she said seriously.
"Then go on back to the van," Mulder said. "It's okay." He touched Scully's cheek gently, his thumb rubbing over her mouth. After a thoughtful moment, he leaned down and kissed her lips lightly, chastely, as if afraid she would refuse. "Another time?" he asked quietly, hopefully.
"You bet," she said with a smile. "You get some sleep and we'll talk about it later."
"Night, Scully," he whispered, and then turned around in Skinner's hands. He said nothing, just kissed the man passionately. Skinner welcomed it eagerly, surprised by Mulder's energy. When he broke the kiss, Skinner growled quietly, not wanting to let him go. "It's going to be such a bitch looking you in the eye on Monday without laughing," Mulder said with a sigh. Skinner smiled.
"You'll manage," Skinner said. He cleaned himself with the damp washcloth Scully had brought earlier, and hitched his jeans up to button his fly. He adjusted his sidearm out of habit and pulled his shirt on with a satisfied sigh, watching silently as Mulder pulled his sweatpants back up, ignoring his own shirt for the time being. "Ready to go, Agent Scully?" he asked, glancing at his subordinate.
"Yes, sir," she replied with a faint glitter of amusement in her pale eyes.
****
They returned to the van, and Skinner heard the van door slam behind him. He grunted when Scully embraced him hard, pressing up against his back. He went still, touching her arms.
"What is it?" he asked. He felt her shudder, her long sigh the only noise in the van for a long moment.
"You feel so good," she sighed. "I didn't expect a night of surveillance to turn into this." Her embrace relaxed a little. "I just feel a little overwhelmed." Skinner turned around and held her to him tightly.
"Christ, _you're_ overwhelmed," he muttered. "I never thought you would...that Mulder..." Scully drew back to look up into his eyes. There was something old and painful warring there.
"What?" she said gently. He looked away for a moment, then forced himself to meet her eyes again.
"I just...never thought you and Mulder would...would accept me like that. I mean...everybody can see what you have with each other. I just...learned to live with it." She gave him an odd look; understanding mixed with resignation and pleasure and anxiety. She let go of him and moved over to the other end of the van. Skinner let her put the space between them, taking the moment to remove the reel tape that had recorded Mulder's call. He put it in an empty canister and stuffed it into his own duffel bag.
Scully leaned against the van's wall. She looked at him for a long moment, arms folded. Skinner turned the chair around and sat on it backwards, arms resting on the back and looking at her silently. Finally he knew the source of her disquiet. "You and Mulder have never been intimate before, have you?" Skinner said wonderingly. "This is the first time." Scully nodded.
"The last time I saw him naked it was because he was wounded," she said, her voice tired, eyes looking inward even though she was gazing in his direction. "Five years of courtship and verbal foreplay. We've always known we were moving toward this. I just didn't expect it to be tonight. I guess after that long, you think maybe it's always in some indeterminate point in the future. Not now...just...later. Soon." Skinner grunted.
"I guess I was an unexpected variable, too," he said. "I sure as hell didn't expect it." She laughed quietly.
"I didn't either. But that's Mulder. He's the one with reckless guts. He took a hell of a risk, and won." She sighed. "That's the man I love." Skinner smiled at her.
"So," he said. "Tell me something. Where did you get that tattoo?"
They talked into the dawn, waiting for nothing in particular since they had no pressing urgency to go home. When dawn came, they called Mulder, folded up their surveillance, and went home to sleep.
****
Mulder glanced up from his desk as the office door opened. Skinner came into the room, glancing around in search of Scully but not finding her. He closed the door and approached Mulder slowly.
"Where's Agent Scully?" he asked.
"In the bathroom," Mulder said simply, shrugging. The events of Saturday morning were hot in the air between them, but undemanding. There would be other times, other nights, to return to the private realm they had all begun to explore. Skinner grunted, then put down on Mulder's desk the thin object he was holding. It was a jewel box with an unlabeled CD in it. The gold disc gleamed in the office light, and Mulder picked it up. "What's this, sir?"
"I burned that for you yesterday," Skinner said, slipping both hands into his trouser pockets and trying to sound casual, but his voice was low and his dark eyes glittered. "It's the recording we made on Saturday morning...your telephone call. I destroyed the reel tape, and that's what's left. I thought you might...like to add it to your collection."
Mulder broke into a broad grin, answered by Skinner's faint smile.
"Damn shame we didn't bug the inside of the van, too," he said. "Thank you, sir. It'll be my prize possession."
"You don't have to call me sir all the time," Skinner said, "not when we're alone like this."
"But I like calling you sir," Mulder said with a wicked gleam in his eye. Skinner gave him a wry look.
"Don't go there, Mulder," he said. "At least, not until we're off duty." He turned away, hearing Mulder's low chuckle. "I expect your report on my desk before two o'clock."
"Yes, sir," Mulder said, and Skinner left, closing the door behind him. Mulder toyed with the gold CD, spinning it on his finger. "As usual," he said to the empty office, "it will have big, conspicuous omissions where all the really good and unbelievable stuff happened." He laughed again softly, putting the CD back in its case.
The End