Title:  Seven-Year Itch
By: Tess
E-mail:  tnv099@aol.com
URL: www.tessfiles.com
Distribution:  Sure, but please let me know
first
Rating:  R
Spoilers:  None really.  Set in a time after
Theef
Keywords:  MSR
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine but
rather, belong to 1013 and Fox.  I'm just
having some fun, not making a profit.

Seven-Year Itch
By:  Tess


Side by side they climbed the stairs to the
second floor of the motel.  One more night
here before heading home to D.C. the next
morning.  The case was closed - well, as
closed as any X-file can ever be - and all
that was left to do was type up the report.

Scully glanced down at her watch and noted
that it had stopped running.  She had
forgotten to take it off when she had
climbed into the shower this morning.  So
much for waterproof, she sighed with a
baleful look at the fogged crystal. 
Compulsive about checking the time, she
hated not having a watch.  

They came to a halt outside of her room and
she took the opportunity to grab his wrist,
turning it toward her so that she could see
his watch.  Almost five o'clock.

"You want to get some takeout and hammer out
this report?" she asked as she tried to fit
her keycard into the door lock.  His hand
settled over hers and she twisted around to
face him.

"Do you know what today is, Scully?"

The late afternoon sun was setting behind
him and she squinted as she craned her neck
back to look up at him.  He moved closer,
blocking the sun, and his free hand came up
to rest on the doorjamb, effectively caging
her between his body and the door.

"Wha... what day is it?" She cleared her
suddenly dry throat.

"It's our anniversary," he murmured.  

"Anniversary?" 

"One year since we got the X-Files back." 
Mulder stepped even closer until his body
brushed against hers and lowered his head so
that his mouth was near her ear.  She closed
her eyes as his warm breath feathered over
her cheek.

"I think we should celebrate, don't you?"  

"Celebrate?" she asked, seemingly unable to
respond in any way other than to repeat him.

Mulder straightened and dropped his arm away
from the doorjamb.  He tucked a strand of
hair behind her ear and let his fingers play
with the tiny, gold earring revealed by the
gesture.

"Would you like to have dinner with me?" he
asked in a funny, formal tone.

She could feel her cheeks heating.  "I'd
like that," she said softly.

"Good."  He guided her hand and the keycard
toward the door lock.  At the sound of the
tiny, electronic click that signaled the
disengaging of the lock, he pushed the door
open behind her.

"Seven o'clock?" he asked.

She nodded mutely and took a step back into
her room.  She stood in the doorway and
watched him walk a few steps along the
outdoor corridor and let himself into his
room next door.

Scully pushed the door closed and leaned
against it, her hands pressed against her
flushed cheeks.  They had shared hundreds of
meals together on cases.  But tonight was
different.

Mulder had just asked her out on a date.

"Oh, God."  She pressed a hand against her
stomach.  They had been flirting with each
other for weeks... months now.  And she had
been enjoying the hell out of it - enjoyed
the playfulness of teasing one another; of
relaxing and taking pleasure in each other's
company in a new way.

And now, it seemed, he wanted to formalize
it.

A date.  She stifled a nervous laugh behind
her hand.

Did she have anything to wear?

She tore through the suitcase lying open on
the spare bed.  Each piece of clothing was
carefully critiqued and consequently
discarded as inappropriate.  
She sank down onto the edge of the mattress
and smoothed a hand over her skirt.  

Shrugging out of the matching black jacket,
she stood and studied the skirt from all
angles in the mirrored doors of the closet. 
A little shorter than most of her business
skirts, the hem broke just above the knee. 
She drew a pale blue cashmere sweater from
the suitcase and held it up for inspection. 
She thought it a little more casual than she
would like, but the satin trim along the
square neckline and three-quarter length
sleeves gave it a pretty, feminine touch.

She sighed.  It would have to do.  Her
mother had drilled into her the importance
of owning the 'perfect little, black dress'
which could be paired with a suit jacket for
work or a strand of pearls for an evening
out.  And although she owned just such a
dress, it had long ago been relegated to the
back of her closet at home.

She carefully laid the sweater out on the
bed and gathered a fresh set of lingerie
from her bag.  She grabbed a hanger from the
closet and carried everything into the
bathroom.  She closed the door and turned on
the shower, twisting the hot water tap fully
open.  As the small room began to fill with
steam, she slipped out of her clothes.  She
shimmied out of her skirt and hung it on the
hanger to allow the steam to smooth out the
wrinkles from the day and freshen the limp
material.  She tossed her blouse onto the
closed lid of the toilet and peeled off her
pantyhose and underwear and added them to
the pile of dirty clothes.  

She bent over the sink and washed the makeup
she had applied that morning from her face
and in lieu of perfume, smoothed lavender
scented body lotion over her arms and throat
before slipping on her underwear.  Rummaging
through her makeup bag, she realized that
her hairbrush was lying out on the bureau. 
She yanked open the bathroom door and
stepped into the bedroom in a cloud of
perfumed steam.

"Mulder!" She stopped short at the sight of
her partner sprawled over her bed.  Wide-
eyed, he stared at her hungrily.  She
frantically reached for the robe hanging
from a hook on the back of the bathroom
door, hurriedly shrugged into it and knotted
the belt tightly around her waist.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded.  

"Couldn't get ESPN clearly in my room."  He
waggled the remote control in his hand as
proof.  He plumped up the pillows and
settled comfortably against them.  Clearly
he was enjoying himself.

"Then go back and watch something else," she
ordered.

"I thought... maybe you could use my help."  

Since his eyes seemed to be firmly fixed on
the outline of her breasts through the robe,
she crossed her arms over her chest.

"I've been managing to get dressed on my own
for many years now, Mulder," she reminded
him peevishly.  

Ignoring her, he stood and lifted his arms
over his head in a luxurious stretch.  He
turned off the television and tossed the
remote onto the mattress.  Skirting the bed,
he advanced slowly towards her.

"I meant that I thought you could use my
help with the report, but I can see you
haven't even started it."  The gleam in his
eyes told her that he knew that all thoughts
of work had vanished from her head as soon
as he had issued the invitation to dinner.

"I... I just wanted to get cleaned up
first," she bit out defensively.  "I was on
my way out to start working on it right
now," she lied.

He stopped.  Only a couple of inches of
space separated their bodies.  

"I like your hair this way."  He reached out
and ran the tips of his fingers through her
wavy hair.

"The steam makes it curl."  Her voice was
barely a whisper.

"Mmm."  He lowered his head and inhaled. 
"You smell good."

Startled, she turned her face toward him. 
He felt her pulse jump when his lips grazed
over her jaw and he ducked his head to hide
a triumphant smile.

She took one step back, trying for some
distance and dignity.  "Did you make dinner
reservations?"

Undeterred, he followed. 

"We have almost an hour before we have to
leave."  His fingers stroked over the gold
cross nestled in the hollow of her throat.  

"Mulder," she breathed weakly.  "Don't you
think this is moving a little..."  Her words
trailed off as his hand slipped inside her
robe, his thumb moving insistently over the
soft skin covering her collarbone.

"A little what?"

"F-fast?"  She bit back a moan.

His laugh was a puff of warm air.  "Seven
years, Scully," he reminded her.  He
gathered the lapel of her robe in his fist.  

"Take this off," he demanded.  "I want to
see you."

She drew in a shaky breath and opened her
mouth to refuse, but a glance up at the
naked hunger on his face stopped her.  Again
she took a step back and this time he
allowed the distance between them to remain. 
Her fingers fumbled to loosen the stubbornly
knotted belt.  When the knot slipped loose,
she gulped in a fortifying breath of air and
shrugged the garment from her shoulders
where it pooled around her ankles.

She heard him hiss as he lifted a hand
toward her. He drew his knuckles over the
plump flesh swelling out of the demi-cup
bra.  He traced a path along the scalloped
lace and tapped a finger against the center
clasp.

"Now this," he whispered harshly.

She looked up and their eyes met. 
Emboldened by the desire on his face, she
guided his hands to the tiny plastic clasp
and together they opened it with a barely
audible click.  Scully dropped her arms to
her sides and waited to see what he would do
next.

He didn't keep her waiting long.  His hands
brushed the ivory lace to the sides and
returned instantly to cup her breasts in his
warm palms.  He stroked the tips of his
fingers over the satiny skin of her flesh.

"Soft," he murmured.  "So soft."

Mulder wrapped one arm around her waist and
pulled her against his side with a little
jerking motion.  He lowered his head and
opened his mouth over the velvety tip of her
breast.  He felt the nipple harden against
his tongue and  heard her muffled cry.  She
sagged against his supporting arm and her
hands tangled in his hair.

He turned his head and treated her other
breast to the same open-mouthed kiss.  He
dragged his tongue over the nipple in one
last rasping caress.  He dropped his arm
from her waist and impatiently plucked the
waistband of her panties between his thumb
and forefinger.  Obeying his silent command,
she skimmed the lacy fabric over her hips. 
Bracing one hand against his chest, she
pushed them down her legs.

The pounding of his heart beneath her hand
and his flushed cheeks told her he was not
as unaffected as his calm manner would
imply.  Buoyed with the realization of her
power over him, she reached up and cupped
his jaw between her small hands and drew his
lips to hers.

Her mouth flirted with his, teeth nibbling
the bow of his upper lip, flicking tongue
teasing first into one corner and then the
other.  His cheek pressed into her palms as
his head turned this way and that to chase
her roving mouth.

Impatient now, he grasped her hips between
his hands and tugged her even closer. Her
hands flew to his shoulders in an effort to
steady herself.  He cupped her bottom with
one hand and lifted her against him while
his other hand slid up her bare back to
thread into her hair.  Pulled up onto the
tips of her toes, with one of his strong
thighs between both of hers, she was off
balance and dependent on him to keep her
upright.  She wound her arms around his neck
and this time their lips met in a feverish
kiss.  Biting, licking, sucking, they fed
ravenously from one another.

Desperate for the feel of flesh against
flesh, they worked together to rid him of
his clothes.  There was no time now for the
deliberate tease of skin being revealed by
the slow shedding of garments.  She attacked
the buttons of his dark blue dress shirt
while he went to work on the belt wrapped
around his lean hips.  Scully pushed the
shirt from his shoulders and slipped her
hands beneath the loosened waistband of his
trousers, fingers cupping his heavy arousal
through his briefs.  Mulder dropped his head
onto her shoulder and she felt each hot,
panting exhalation of breath against her
neck as her fingers stroked and teased,
tested and measured.

He lifted his head and moved back to strip
away the rest of his clothing.  He opened
his arms and she stepped into his embrace. 
And in their twin sighs of relief and
pleasure was one unspoken thought. 

At last.

Time slowed.  The frantic haste faded away
and in its place, the return of gentleness.  

Scully turned and tugged the bedspread to
the foot of the bed.  She reclined on the
mattress and held out her arms to him. 
Mulder lowered himself to her and stretched
his body over hers.  His hands slid under
her back, her legs twined around his hips. 
Their mouths met again and again.  Rubbing. 
Teasing.  Devouring.  Adoring.

Whispers of devotion and love heated the air
between them.

He fitted his body to hers.  His flesh
demanded and probed. Her body yielded and
enveloped.  They came together and...

... it was magic

... it was perfection

... it was them.

The shrill ringing of first one cellphone
and then another sought to interrupt them
and were ignored.  There was no room for
anyone else... no awareness of anything
other than the union of their bodies. 
Moving together. Straining.  Reaching and...

... it was magic

... it was perfection

... it was them.

They collapsed against the soft bedding and
struggled to regulate their breathing. 
Mulder flopped onto his back and Scully
rolled onto her stomach. She pressed her
mouth against his sweaty shoulder in a
careless, happy kiss before curling up
against him.  His hands roved up and down
the damp skin of her back and traced the
curve of her hip, while her fingers toyed
with the hair sprinkled over his chest. 
Comfortably sated, they dozed.

"Remind me to sneak into your room more
often."  The low rumble of Mulder's voice
vibrating through his chest woke her from
her light sleep.  She shifted and stacked
her hands on his chest and rested her cheek
against them.

She lifted drowsy, blue eyes to him.  "I
have a confession to make, Mulder."  

He stroked the tangled hair away from her
face and cupped the back of her neck in his
strong hand.

"What's that?"

"I knew you were out here," she admitted. 
"I could hear the television through the
door."

His hand tightened on the nape of her neck. 
"So all that indignation... the virginal
clutching of the robe around you was what? 
An act?"

The smile that graced her lips was innocent
though the sparkle in her eyes was anything
but.  The low growl that rumbled in Mulder's
throat sent her scrambling to her feet.  She
danced across the carpet for the relative
safety of the other side of the bed.

"You owe me dinner," she reminded him as she
scooped up her robe from the floor and
hastily shrugged into it. 

Mulder climbed out of bed and stalked her
across the room.  He had her pinned in the
corner with nowhere to go.  Deciding that
offense was the best defense, she launched
herself at him.  He fell back onto the
mattress and she followed him down.  Amused
by the startled look on his face, she leaned
over him.

"I'll always keep you guessing," she said.

"I hope so."  He wrapped his arms around her
and pressed a chaste kiss to her mouth.

"I hope so."

End

Thanks for reading!!

This story was written in response to a
challenge.  I believe it is the first fic
challenge I've ever responded to.  My thanks
to Sallie for issuing a challenge that was
too tempting to pass up and to Char and
Carol for their friendship and super-fast,
super-duper beta skills.

URL: www.tessfiles.com
E-mail: tnv099@aol.com


Challenge elements:

M/S first time sex 
The phrase "You do keep me guessing"
(Mulder) or "I'll always keep you guessing
(Scully) 
Sharing a meal/something edible (well, they
had good intentions of dinner)
A phone call from Skinner or Kersh (made but
ignored)
TV (broken, working, showing a movie or not)
A watch or clock that has stopped working
Lacy underwear (Scully only)
Magic
A celebration or something celebratory