TITLE: Sunday

AUTHOR: by Terma99

EMAIL: terma99@aol.com 

DISTRIBUTION: Gossamer-YES. Elsewhere-just let me know!

SPOILERS: Not much, some season five references.

RATING: R for "adult situations"--yeah!

CLASSIFICATION: V, MSR, H

SUMMARY: After a long weekend of frantic
lovemaking, our favorite pair of agents discuss
the results.

MY NOTES: I've got this thing about Mulder and
Scully eating together--I've noticed I tend to write
scenes favoring them masticating. So here at least
they have something to masticate about. This was
also an afternoon break I took from writing my
huge 25,000 wd. X-Files-style case file "Aftershock,"
coming soon, and well worth the wait I hope.

DISCLAIMER: Okay, here we go. I don't own them,
I'm just borrowing them because the grand high
sci-fiction genius Chris Carter invented them and
I'm horribly envious. So I borrow them and let them
have a break from some of the five plus years of UST.
I think they appreciate it. All regards to 1013, FOX,
and such.

FEEDBACK: PLEASE!! Give me a reason for living. My
toil as a magazine editor is sapping the life out of me!
Terma99@aol.com (My friends call me Sharon)
 

Sunday

by Terma99
 

Mulder flipped the menu closed and passed it off
to the waitress, his eyes focusing on his partner--
suddenly taking on a playful glint. He took a sip of
water and leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows
on the edge of the linen tablecloth. "So Scully, tell me...
was everything to your liking?"

She looked up at him from where she was arranging
her napkin on her lap confused for a moment, until one
look at his curious expression told her he wasn't talking
about her menu selections. For a minute she was
voiceless to answer. Was he really going to bring this
up here? During Chantal's late Sunday brunch--next
to these well-dressed people at the surrounding tables,
no doubt just fresh from church?
 
She took a nervous sip of her own ice water, her
hand shaking a bit--god, she was starving, thirsty,
and everything else--she really just wanted to
concentrate on eating for a while--but no, he wasn't
going to let her off that easily.

"What wasn't to like?" she answered simply.

He shifted back in his chair crossing his arms
over his chest and grinned at her, his mouth twisting
mischievously. No, he wasn't going to let her get away
with anything, it was his turn to make her squirm.

"Well, believe it or not Scully you're dealing with a
slightly insecure personality, here. There are certain
things I need to know before we can move along."

Insecure? That was what insecure was like? She
was suddenly terrified of what *confident* would
be like.

She couldn't help but let a wide smile slip across
her face despite herself. "Well Mulder, you had me going."

He made a noise in the back of his throat like a
grumble, he leaned in closer to her again. "I'm afraid
in this case I'm going to need all the facts."

"Agent Mulder, are you interrogating me?"

He nodded confidently, "Yes."

Scully took a breath and looked around at the other
diners innocently masticating their eggs and toast,
and suddenly something a little daring opened up
in her and she felt she just didn't really care exactly
what they were about to hear. This could be fun after
all. It certainly had been fun up to now. She met his
slightly tired, but amused hazel eyes dead-on and
answered bravely, "Which facts specifically did you
have in mind?"
 
His face lit up--good, she was going to play. Now
how to tease it out of her..."Hmm, it would seem that
I have an interest in uncovering certain comparisons
...gauging certain aspects of our current debut with
say, *previous* performers."
 
She breathed a laugh at him from over her glass
of OJ. "I'm afraid I don't have much of a repertoire
to base many relevant comparisons on."

"Really?" he asked incredulously. This was going
better than he thought.

"Really. I mean, well, you're one-of-a-kind Mulder
--at least in my experience. Which I suppose isn't
saying much," she kicked in. She wasn't going to let
him walk away with this one clean.

He mockingly slapped a hand to his chest.
"That one hurt, Scully."

"I'm not the one who started this..."

"I know, I know..." he assented. He was going to
have to try to be more direct. "But seriously, what
aspects in particular do you specifically have no
prior basis of comparison?"

"Specifically?"

"Specifically."

Very well then, here goes...she took a breath,
wondering if she really had the guts to say what she
thought she was going to say...

"I'll admit that I've never had the experience of
touching a man quite that way before. At least not
*there*, and definitely not with my tongue."

Hmm...that wasn't so hard after all, and the dazed
expression that now took over his face was certainly
worth the effort.

He didn't say anything for several seconds, just
sat there blinking at her. She certainly jumped to
the chase quickly enough. He had intended working
her up to that one. Undoubtedly not a good idea to
underestimate Dana Scully's ability to wrangle with
his best laid plans--even if he was sleeping
with her, finally.

"In fact, Mulder, I'd have to say you found a way
to inspire me to put quite a few new acts in my bag..."

"Wait a minute," he pleaded, holding up his palm.
"Before we unleash the flood, I'm afraid my simple
male mind is only going to be able to keep up with
one confession at a time. We'll start with the one
already in progress..."

"Tonguing your..."

"Yes..." he hissed before she could elaborate, trying
desperately to climb back on top of the situation.
*Get a grip, you watch enough porn to be mature
about this.* Yeah, but those videos didn't include
images of a certain feisty red-head laving his shaft
with great relish. Dammit, this was not going well at all...

"Mulder...?"

Somehow he managed to bring himself back to the
restaurant scene already in progress long enough to
answer her relatively calmly and to hopefully redirect.

"Yes, well then, what are your recollections of being
on the receiving end of this particular activity?" he
managed to ask.

"You mean have I *received* before?" She looked
off as if she was trying to locate a file back somewhere
in her mind.

Good, they were off the subject. He could handle
this as long as they didn't discuss *that*. It wasn't
so much that he didn't know she was new to the
experience--he had pretty much guessed right--
it was the fact she had been so eager to please despite
her inexperience and that after all these years and
encounters, she had saved it for him.
 
"I think..." she was starting to say..."I believe I've
experienced one or two *attempts*, but no one took
to your level of interest."

He was very pleased at this admission. "And you
called these men lovers?" he couldn't help but exacerbate.

"Well, I don't know if I'd call them *men*."

Mulder felt his ego fall back into place and stretch a
mile or two. This was going to be worth it, if he survived.
"Well Scully, you've only seen the tip of the iceberg.
After you've calmed down a little--you'll have to give
me an hour or so to show you what I really know
about the subject."

Whoo! that hit her good. Knocked her right out of
the playing field it seemed. Her fingers tightened
their grip around the outside of her empty OJ glass
as she regarded the tablecloth blankly. He wondered
if she even felt her tongue sliding nervously over
her bottom lip.
 
*Damn him*. She'd better not blush. Not know.
What the hell had just happened? How'd he manage
to pull back into the lead so fast? Why was she having
trouble remembering to breathe? Maybe it was the
thought of his deliciously expressive mouth firmly
planted between her thighs for the better part of an
evening. There certainly were great advantages to
taking a lover with a decisively serious oral fixation.
 
*For god's sake Mulder, don't start chewing on
your straw*...she thought, glancing up at him.
Fortunately there weren't any plastic tubes anywhere
near their table. He however, was looking enormously
pleased with himself.

"What else...?" he asked in a low breathy tone. His
eyes dark and flitting across her face seductively.

Fortunately for Dana Scully the waitress picked
that exact moment to deliver their omelettes and toast.

The aroma of fried eggs and melted cheese was
enough to draw their attention away from their
heady game and back to their stomachs long enough
to dive into the food. If it had been up to Mulder
they probably would have slowly starved to death in
her apartment...after ravaging the refrigerator at two
in the morning downing every last scrap of digestible
food it contained--she forced them out of the bedroom
around eleven this morning and into the shower long
enough to get decently clean and dressed to show
themselves in public. Actually, it took two tries with
the shower, the first attempt winding up wet, steamy
and slippery down on the bathroom tile. No more
"I'll wash yours if you wash mine" for a while.
 
What the hell day was it anyway? Sunday? What
happened to Saturday? How'd they get to Sunday so
fast? Scully couldn't accurately remember specific days
or nights at this point, just specific positions, locations...
her throat closed up on her, a half chewed bite of toast
going suddenly dry on her tongue. She looked over at him
busily devouring his eggs, forgetting about her
completely for the moment it seemed. She wasn't
having as much luck. Shit, if she couldn't get through
breakfast with him, how the hell was she going to survive *Monday*?
Eight hours...it seemed like an unbearably
long time to her right now. Maybe they could call in sick?
 
She reminded herself to chew and swallow manually
while she tried to put this whole thing into perspective,
not looking at him but looking beyond to the warm light
in the long glass pane windows and the trees beyond.
There was after all a world to get back to. She hadn't
thought about that until now, wasn't sure if she was
ready for it.
 
Lovers...that's what they were to each other now.
She supposed it was inevitable. How could it not be?
She really didn't feel she had much of a choice in the
matter. A partnership with Mulder didn't leave a girl
much room for anything else, or anyone else. Was she
crazy to do this? There was no going back now,
certainly not.

Not since he came to her Friday night and confessed
himself to her, his depth of feeling for her, she knew
she couldn't stop five long years of denied impulses
from acting upon themselves and taking them that
next step over the brink. He had blindsided her with
his intensity and she had discovered an intensity in
herself she never knew existed. No one had ever located
its release until now. She felt alive like never before--
no one had ever made her feel like this--no one. How
could he ask her to compare?

"Scully?"

"Hmm?" he had startled her out of her contemplation.

"Scully, try some of this..." Mulder had ordered a side
of blueberry pancakes and was delivering a dripping
bite of them in her general direction via his fork. She
leaned obediently forward and let him feed her, catching
an errant blueberry with her fingertip as it slipped past
her lower lip leaving a tiny purple trail in the corner
of her mouth.

He was suddenly struck with a sweet deja vu of a
slightly younger Dana Scully sitting across from him
in a similar restaurant with a similar morsel of
barbecue sauce anointing her plump lower lip. He
wanted very badly to kiss it from her then, but went
for his napkin instead. Now he realized, he didn't need
to fuss with formalities and leaning forward, tipped
her chin and cleaned her up nicely with a slightly wet
kiss to the side of her mouth.

She mewed pleasantly at his touch and resumed chewing.

"Don't start making little noises at me Scully, or we
won't be here long enough to pay the check," he said,
settling back into his chair with mock sterness.

"You like it when I make little noises?" she asked
innocently, suddenly very interested in her food again.

Mulder it appeared had temporarily lost control of
his is fork as it slipped onto the plate with a clatter.
Yesss, the little noises, and the not-so-little decidedly
unladylike howls he painstakingly dragged from her
to the point he was seriously concerned the neighbors
might phone the police.

He wagged his finger at her. "Don't start with me,"
he warned, taking charge of the utensil again and
paring off a mouthful of pancake.

"You're not being fair, Mulder."

"I don't care, you don't have anything to worry
about when we have to stand up and walk out of here..."
he informed her through his mouthful.

She was immediately overcome with a bad case
of the giggles.

"Really?"

He looked at her with a pained expression.

"Really."

She gave him a few minutes respite and let her
concentration focus back on eating for a while in silence.

*************

"So before we were overcome with food, I believe you
were asking me about my new level of sensual awareness,"
she resumed, taking the last bite of her omelette.

He nodded encouragingly, mouth full.

"Let's see, we've spent sometime discussing methods, how
about positions?"

He looked up at her, boyishly enthused.
 
"I think, if memory serves...the one involving being
pressed up against the wall was certainly new if not just a
little painful, and what was the one...? The one involving
the chair, my perfectly good kitchen chair, and your lap
come to mind."

"What about the kitchen floor...?"

"You're jumping ahead...to locations."

"Oh, sorry...go on."

She reached over, helping herself to another big bite of
blueberry chewing devilishly at him.

"I didn't want to skip over the rather animalistic one," she
said, her voice dropping into a huskier tone.

He swallowed suddenly, lowering his voice as well,
"You like that one, Scully?"

"Uh, huh..."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Good. She discovered she had acquired a taste for quite a
variety of new things and sincerely hoped some of them
would be making encore presentations.

"You know, I'll have to hand it to you Mulder, you certainly
come with a well-stocked catalog of ideas."

He grinned at her. "This surprises you?"

"No, I guess it shouldn't given your favorite brand of
entertainment."

"Somewhere Frohike is weeping."

Her face went suddenly dead serious.

"I swear to god Mulder, if you *even*..."
The thought of the three goons getting any kind of a mere
hint of this creeped her out to no small extent. Not to
mention they'd probably start wiring her apartment, too.
 
He held his hands up in defense. "I'm joking, I'm joking."

The look she gave him then told him that if he at all valued
his new found recreations--he'd have to seriously practice
his best poker face before he saw the boys next.

"I promise..." he reiterated, trying very hard not to laugh.
"I promise. Please, this was just getting good...go on.
Locations now."

She sighed, her mouth turning up a bit at the corner. It was
hard to stay irritated with him now, very hard. And her
stomach was now too pleasantly filled to feel anything but
a brand of blissful appeasement.

"Hmm...let's see, locations..." There were a surprising large
number of them for being relatively confined to the four
or so rooms of her apartment, all blurring together--the
kitchen floor, the rug in front of the TV, the hallway,
the desk, the back of the door, the window sill...no wonder
she had been so hungry and not to mention just a little stiff
this morning, they rarely landed on something soft.

"Good god Mulder, did we *ever* make it to the bed?"
she suddenly realized in amazement.

Now it was his turn to be overwhelmed by giggles. He had
to cover his mouth with both hands trying to keep his lips
closed over the food until he could swallow.

"I think once, to sleep."

The memory of that made her smile--falling into an exhausted
tangle of limbs next to this man enclosed in the warmed soft
sheets of her bed was something she definitely wanted to
experience again and again--every night of the rest of her
life if she could.

He was regarding her tenderly as if he could read
her thoughts.

"Yeah, I liked that, too," he softly admitted.

She gazed back at him sweetly her eyes growing large
with affection as her hands came up and her fingers
entangled themselves together, letting her chin come to
rest on top with a sigh.
 
"So tell me Mulder, what was new for you?"
 
He stilled and glanced aside for several moments. Just
breathing, long and slow. She wasn't sure at first if he'd
even heard her. Then he took a very deep breath and
gathering himself looked at her again, into her
inexpressibly beautiful blue eyes--his answer barely
spoken above a whisper.
 
"Everything."
 
Of all the things he had said to her this late morning--
this hit her the hardest. She fought as bravely as she could
to keep herself as still as he was but the depth of expression
in his sad hazel eyes made her lost and soft with emotion
and she felt tears beginning to spill unbidden from her eyes.
She swiped her fingertips under her lower eyelids to catch them.

"Dammit, Mulder," she whispered. "I have to walk
out of here too."

He smiled then sheepishly lowering his eyes.

"Sorry..."

"No you're not."
 
"You're right, I'm not."

She balled up her napkin and threw it at him. He caught
it with a laugh just before it hit his face. "We'd better get
outta here before you break something..."

"Like my sidetable lamp...? I think that was your fault."

No good...that particular deliciously sinful memory was
going to make his exit unquestionably swift.

He waved at the waitress.

"Check, please."
 
 
 

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Okay, admit it, you chuckled a bit.
Tell the author thanks, that would be me at:
Terma99@aol.com, and I'll write more!