Title: Dream Girl 

Author: Tess

E-mail: tnv099@aol.com

Distribution: Yes you may, but please ask first

Spoilers: Post ep for FPS

Rating: NC-17

Content: MSR

Keywords: A, R

Disclaimer: I don't own 'em.  CC, 1013 and Fox do.  They make money from them.  I don't.

Summary: Scully reacts to the night's events





Dream Girl 

By: Tess



I thought I was annoyed with all of them before.



That's nothing compared to what I'm feeling right now.



We left FPS Headquarters well over an hour ago. I thought we were 

heading back to our motel. Instead I'm sitting in a diner across the 

street from the motel, listening to Mulder and the Gunmen excitedly 

rehash the events of the last couple of hours. 



"Dude, I was sure you were a goner!" Langly crows to Mulder as he s

hovels a forkful of eggs into his mouth. I want to slap him.



Mulder laughs around a bite of toast. "Yeah, I was getting worried too, 

but then Scully came in and saved my ass!" He grins down at me. Tiny 

flecks of paint still spot his face. I want to slap him.



"She may be little, but she's mean!" an unnaturally exuberant Byers 

chimes in. I want to slap him, too.



"Yeah even a cyberbabe like Maitreya shoulda known better than to mess 

with Agent Scully," Frohicke giggles.



I want to sla... well, you get the picture, right?



My nerves are jangling with a combination of adrenaline, fear, anger 

and nerves. I don't need the addition of caffeine. Shoving my coffee 

away, I begin pushing against Mulder.



"Scully, what are you...?"



"Come on, Mulder. Move! I want to get out of here," I demand.



Mulder stands up and I slide out of the booth.



"I'm going to my room. Do I have to wait for you guys or do you think 

you can make it across the street without me?" I ask snidely. I can't 

help it. Have I mentioned that I really, really want to slap them?



Mulder gives me the 'ha ha very funny face' and throws some money down 

on the table.



"We're done, right guys?"



They clamor to their feet and begin fumbling for their wallets.  



A couple of minutes later I let myself into my room, closing the door 

firmly behind me. I can still hear the four of them outside chattering 

away.   



Thinking a shower may help me relax, I cross the carpet to the bathroom. 

On the way, I unlock the connecting door to Mulder's room.  



I step into the shower and let the hot spray pound down on my head. The 

scalding water does help my muscles relax a little. Now, if I can just 

shut down my brain for a few hours of sleep, I might be able to face the 

long plane ride home with the Four Stooges.



I wrap a bathsheet around me, tucking the ends between my breasts. 

Wandering back into my room, I walk over to the bureau. I pick up a 

comb from the bureau and begin to pull it through my wet hair. I pause 

and set the comb down again. Unwrapping the towel, I let it drop to the 

floor as I study my nude form in the mirror.  



I lift my hand and trace it along my cheek and down to my throat. 

Lifting the other hand, I cup my breasts and then slide my hands down 

to my hips. Turning, I crane my head around to study the reflection of 

my ass in the mirror.



I am startled by a movement in my peripheral vision. Mulder. I've 

forgotten about his habit of letting himself into my room while I'm in 

the bathroom. As usual, he's sprawled out on my bed. He is staring at 

me wide-eyed, his mouth agape.



My first instinct was to dive to the floor for my towel. Instead I turn 

my back on him so that I am again facing the mirror.



"You were really turned on by all of that tonight, weren't you?" I ask.



He doesn't answer but instead slides out of the bed and moves up behind 

me.



"Mulder?"



Nothing.



Frustrated, I stamp my foot. If possible, Mulder's eyes widen even more 

as my breasts sway with the movement of my foot. He swallows loudly.



Again, I am overcome with a desire to slap him. So I do. Suddenly, I am 

pummeling his chest with my fists, slapping at his arms and hands.



"Stupid. Stupid. Stupid man!" I cry. Angry tears burn my eyes.



"You were so turned on by her, you risked your life to prove what a 

great, big, strong man you are! You had the chance to get out of there 

but did you take it? No! Instead you went in after her! Why? What were 

you trying to prove? She wasn't even real! Don't you guys understand?  

Women like that aren't real!" 



Mulder is not fighting back, but he does make the effort to block off 

the worst of the blows. After a couple of minutes, I stumble away from 

him, exhausted.



I snatch the towel off the floor and wrap it tightly around my body. I 

start to make excuses for my behavior.  



"I'm sorry. I don't know what...I'm just very tired. I was scared when 

we couldn't find you and I guess I'm still feeling the adrenaline and...

but there's no excuse for hitting you..." 



My eyes trace patterns over the carpet below my feet and I force my 

eyes to meet his, intent on apologizing. My gaze locks with his and the 

apology dies in my throat.



"Mulder, is that what men really want? A woman who looks like Maitreya?  

Like the women in porn movies?"



I've turned away from him again and am watching him carefully in the 

mirror. He moves behind me cautiously, resting his hands on my shoulders 

lightly.



"They're not real," he begins. "And most men know that."



"Fantasy women?"



"I guess. But the woman I fantasize about most is a 5'2" redhead with 

impossibly blue eyes and a smart mouth."



I look at him startled and then freeze in shock as his fingers move to 

where the ends of the towel are tucked closed.  



"One of my recurring fantasies," he murmurs, "is of making love to you 

when you are still all warm and damp from a shower."



He tugs the towel from my body and lifts it to rub against my wet hair. 

A droplet of water has beaded on my breast and it trembles with every 

hitching breath I take. Stunned, I watch as he lowers his head and 

opens his mouth over the droplet, catching it on his tongue.



He moves languidly over my breast, his tongue teasing the tip until it 

is hard and then sucking it slowly into his mouth. He releases my 

breast, rubbing his fingers over the damp skin as he tilts my head back.  As his mouth descends to mine, he whispers one word.



"Scully."



My name. Said with such longing. Such wonder. As if he had never 

expected this moment to come.



His lips cover mine fiercely and his tongue plunges into my mouth.



Suddenly we are living one of *my* fantasies as he tumbles me onto the 

bed, grinding his hips into mine. His hands are roaming all over my 

body and I am struggling to rid him of his clothes.  



Finally he is naked and once again he settles his body over mine. We 

are rubbing against each other, hands grappling for purchase over 

sweaty skin. I wrap my legs around his hips and feel him pressing 

against me.



Sucking the tender flesh of my neck into his mouth, he sinks deep within 

me. When he can go no further, he raises his head.



"Scully," he calls and I open heavy eyes to meet his gaze. 



When he is sure that he has my attention, he begins to speak.



"You have starred in every fantasy I've had for the last seven years," 

he tells me. "I just never really believed that those fantasies would 

ever become a reality."



His eyes slide closed for a second as his hips shift against mine. He 

shudders and struggles to open his eyes again.



"I love you," he vows as he pulls almost all the way out of me before 

sliding back in.



He begins moving slowly in and out and I brace my feet against the 

mattress, raising my hips to meet each thrust. Gradually the tempo 

changes and we are moving frantically against each other. We are both 

close and our movements begin to lose any semblance of rhythm or grace. 

My hands are skating up and down the wet flesh of his back.



Mulder trembles in my arms and burying his face in my neck, he spills 

hot and wet inside of me. A second or two later I follow, my body 

clenching and shuddering around his.



We collapse against the mattress, hearts pounding, breath rasping in 

our lungs. I turn my head weakly to press my lips against his sweaty 

hair. Long moments pass before Mulder lifts his head from my neck. His 

lips lower to mine again and his eyes flutter closed as he presses 

tiny kisses first to my bottom lip, then across the upper. His lips 

glance off my nose and his tongue traces the tiny indentation above my 

lip.



I force my eyes open and study his face. He gazes back at me solemnly 

for a second or two and then a tiny smile curves his lips.



"Better than any fantasy," he tells me and rolls over so that I am 

lying on top of him. I am still holding his body trapped in mine. I 

never want to let go.



"Yeah?" I ask.



He nods once.



"Yeah."



I know the smile that breaks out over my face is radiant.



"I love you," I tell him and wrap myself around him tightly.



I trace the line of his jaw up to his ear.



"Wanna tell me another of your fantasies?" I murmur suggestively.



His response is an enthusiastic whoop and before I know it, I am flat 

on my back again.



The End





Author's notes:  Trust me to take something as lighthearted as FPS and 

turn it into an angst-o-rama! Ah well. It had a happy ending



Feedback is most appreciated, please at tnv099@aol.com