Title: Want & Need II Author: Tess e-mail: tnv099@aol.com Distribution: Please ask first. Spoilers: Brief ones for several S7 eps Rating: NC-17 Content: SAR Keywords: MSR Summary: Continuation of the story Authors Notes: When I posted Want & Need I mentioned that the story was actually the opening scene to a larger story I had envisioned. This is how I had originally intended the entire story to unravel. If you would like to read the first part of Want and Need (and you should if you plan to read this one) you can find it at Ephemeral or at the site that archives all of my stories: acovington.home.mindspring.com/tess/index.html Title: Want & Need II Author: Tess He figured she would expect an aggressive campaign of seduction. Indeed, male pride demanded that he awaken her to a screaming orgasm. Studying the woman sleeping peacefully beside him, Mulder felt a wave of tenderness wash over him. He stroked his fingers down Scully's cheek. "Mulder." She sighed and rolled onto her side, pillowing her cheek in the palm of his hand. She wrapped her fingers around his wrist, her thumb gliding across the soft skin over his pulse, before settling back into a deep sleep. Her movements had caused the blankets to slide down to her hips. Looking down at the soft roundness of Scully's unbound breasts beneath the well-washed cotton of his T-shirt, he felt a familiar tightening in his groin and a surge of lust tempered by a love that he had never felt for any other woman. In his fierce need for Scully and desperate to bury his loss and grief in her body, he had taken without giving. In the unfrenzied peace of the morning, Mulder knew that he could give Scully the physical pleasure that he had unknowingly denied her. He also knew that if he was ever going to convince her that he wanted her, needed her, loved her, he would have to seduce her - heart, body, mind and soul. He would have to open himself up to her in a way he had never done before. He would have to rid himself of the doubts that he would never be good enough for her and he would have to pay more than lip service to the knowledge that he could trust her never to hurt him in the way other women had hurt him in the past. Today they were flying back to D.C. His biggest challenge would be to make sure that with a return to the routine of their lives, they did not leave behind this change in their relationship. "Scully," he called softly, stroking the index finger of his free hand down her nose. "Time to wake up." She wrinkled her nose and snuggled her cheek into the warm cradle of his hand. "Come on, Scully," he whispered, dragging his finger down her nose again and tracing the bow of her upper lip. She grimaced, turning her head away from his wandering fingers and rubbing her nose with the back of her hand. He smiled. It was so much more fun to wake her in person rather than by calling her on the phone. He lifted his hand to her face, again stroking his fingers softly over her features. He leaned close to her ear. "We have a plane to catch." He expected her to hide her face in the pillows but she surprised him by rolling toward him instead. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, burying her face in his neck, effectively putting a halt to his marauding fingers but inadvertently bringing her pelvis into direct contact with his. He felt rather than saw her awaken, as she became aware of the rapidly forming evidence of his desire for her. "Good morning," she mumbled, avoiding his eyes, cheeks flushed. He grinned, bounding to his feet. He could see her body relax slightly as he put some distance between them. She shrieked in surprise when he caught her hands in his own and pulled her up into his embrace. "We have to be at the airport in a couple of hours," he told her. His big hands stroked along the column of her spine, lingering near the hem of the shirt she wore. "You can take the first shower," he offered. Scully nodded and tried to extricate herself from his arms. Instead he tightened his grip around her waist and lifted her off her feet. She threw her arms around his neck to steady herself. Mulder buried his face in her throat and began to rock, twisting his body gently at the waist until finally he felt her begin to relax. She threaded her fingers through his hair and tilted her cheek against the top of his head, her thighs hugging his hips. She shuddered once and then sagged, allowing him to bear her weight as she gave herself up to his embrace. Mulder pressed his lips warmly against the pulse beating under her jaw and set her back onto her feet, turning her to face the bathroom and giving her a little push in the right direction. When the bathroom door closed behind her, he dressed quickly, grabbing his jacket and keys and headed toward the door. He figured he had enough time to go to the coffee shop across the street from their motel before Scully finished her shower. He'd begin his seduction with hot coffee and fresh bagels. ********** Upon arriving in D.C., they spent the rest of the day in the basement office working on their report. Scully typed on her laptop computer while Mulder sat at his desk, playing with a basketball and tossing out suggestions and comments, which Scully then translated, into a comprehensible format for the report. Mulder stood and stretched, wandering across the room to study the report over Scully's shoulder. He leaned in close, peering at the blue glow of the screen and felt her stiffen almost imperceptibly. He stifled a sigh, closing his eyes as he thought of the work cut out for him. He didn't want to lose the working relationship they had perfected over the years, nor did he want to ignore their growing personal relationship. There had to be a way to incorporate the two without allowing one to take over the other. He straightened. "Want to get something to eat?" he asked. "China Palace?" Scully saved the nearly completed report and shut down her laptop. "Um...I don't really want takeout." "Oh. All right. I guess I'll see you tomorrow then." He worked hard to keep his voice casual and to hide his disappointment. Scully slid the laptop into its carrying case. "I feel like cooking but its no fun cooking for one," she offered. She was carefully studying the webbing of the nylon handles of the laptop case when she felt his hand settle on the crown of her head. He stroked his hand over the shining cap of her hair and she tilted her head back to look at him. His smile was joyful. She grinned back, pleased to have made him so happy. Standing, she grabbed the laptop, her coat and keys and walked to the door. "Nothing fancy," she warned. "Probably pasta and a salad." He nodded. "Seven o'clock?" She glanced at her watch and nodded, pulling the door closed behind her. ********* She stirred the simmering pot of sauce and started when she heard his knock. She looked at the clock, smiling happily when she saw that he was ten minutes early. Mulder was never on time for anything. His early arrival meant he was just as eager to see her, as she was to see him. Scully wiped her hands nervously on a towel and took a quick look around her apartment as she crossed the living room to open the door. When she had arrived home, she had set the dining room table with candles and the small bunch of flowers she had grabbed at the grocery store. Candles scattered throughout the room had flickered merrily and soft music spilled from the CD player. After spending precious moments agonizing over what to wear, she had settled on jeans and a sweater. Walking back into her living room, she had cringed at the overt romanticism of the formally set table, candlelight and music. It just wasn't them, she decided. At least not yet. She wanted comfort, with a hint of romance and so she had tuned the radio to a soft rock station, extinguished all of the candles except for a scented jar candle on her mantle, moved the place settings to the coffee table and lit the kindling in the fireplace. Now, she moved to the door on suddenly uncertain feet, took a deep breath and swung the door open. "You're early." She smiled shyly and took a step back. Mulder pushed away from the doorframe where he had been lounging and moved into the apartment. Perversely, her obvious nervousness made him strangely confident. "I was hungry," he said in a low voice. Scully's eyes dropped away and she blushed as she turned toward the kitchen. "Well, dinner is almost ready," she said, pretending not to understand. Mulder reached out and grabbed her wrist, gently tugging her back to him. He released her arm and cupped the back of her head in his hand, lowering his mouth to hers. His lips moved gently, insistently over hers until she responded, her mouth opening to welcome his, her arms stealing around his waist to hug him close. He drew back, then dropped a light kiss on the tip of her nose. Scully's eyes fluttered open. "Hi," he smiled. "Um..." She stopped to clear her throat. "Dinner should be just about ready," she whispered and turned again toward the kitchen. Mulder grinned as he watched her hurry out of the room. He tugged off his leather jacket and hung it on the back of a chair, giving her a minute alone to regain her composure. "Need any help?" he asked, wandering into the kitchen. "Salad's in the fridge," she said, draining the pasta. He carried the salads into the living room and set them down on the coffee table then went back for his plate filled with steaming pasta and fragrant sauce. Scully followed with her own plate and a bottle of wine. They ate quietly for a few minutes and then Scully spoke. "Mulder, about the report--I think we should..." Mulder laid his hand over hers. "Scully, you know that I love working with you, but let's just..." He paused, considering his words carefully. "Let's just take some time for ourselves. Okay?" She glanced down at her plate, carefully spearing some pasta onto her fork. Looking back up at him, she nodded. When they finished eating and cleaning up, Mulder pushed the coffee table to one side and settled onto the carpet with his back resting comfortably against the sofa. Scully sat facing him, between his widespread legs. She studied his face as he stared into the dancing flames in the fireplace. Curling her legs under her, she sought his attention. "Mulder?" "Hmmm?" He forced his gaze away from the hypnotic flames to look at her. "I was just wondering. Have you given any thought to making arrangements for your mother's burial?" Her voice was cautious and worried. Mulder reached out to take both of her hands into his own. He ran his thumb over the soft skin covering the fragile bones on the back of her hands and played with her fingers. "My mother told me once, right after her stroke, that she wanted to be cremated. I spoke with the funeral director in Greenwich when you left to perform the autopsy and made the arrangements." "No funeral?" she asked. "She didn't want one," he told her simply, running the pads of his thumbs over the smooth surface of her nails. "She always hated them." "But...don't you want a chance to, I don't know...say goodbye?" "Well I have to go to Greenwich and collect the ashes. I also have to start sorting through the things at the house. I was thinking about going up there this weekend. I was hoping you would be able to go with me." He turned her hands over and pressed his lips warmly against first one palm, and then the other. Scully twisted her hands from his and cupped his face gently, smiling. He reached out and pulled her close. She leaned into him, laid her face against his chest and closed her eyes. He felt her breathing even out and her body sag slightly against his own. Reaching behind him, he pulled a pillow and afghan from the sofa. Carefully supporting her neck in the large palm of his hand, he eased Scully down onto the pillow. As he draped the afghan over her body, her eyes opened and she studied him solemnly. Mulder stroked his thumb along her cheekbone and then across the plump fullness of her lips before covering her mouth with his own. His kiss was gentle and inquisitive; his lips moving softly over hers. He slid his tongue along the slick lining of her lower lip and she moaned, parting her lips. Mulder's tongue swept forward and hers darted out to meet it as she wound her arms around him. They kissed seemingly forever, whispering each other's names and exploring each other's mouths. Scully clenched her hands in his hair and Mulder settled his body over hers and again he buried himself in their kiss. When Scully wrapped her thighs around his hips, he groaned, arching his body into hers. He was quickly losing himself in her again. He slid his hand along her ribcage, inching toward her breast when a niggling voice in his head stopped him. He had promised to slow down. To prove something to her and not to take in a moment of blind lust and need. Without warning, he tore his mouth from hers and flung himself back onto his heels. Scully's eyes flew open at the sudden loss of his heat and weight. "I, um, I should get going." He scraped his hair back with shaking hands. Scully nodded wide-eyed and pushed herself into a sitting position. Mulder reached out for her hands and hauled her to her feet. He pressed one more hard kiss on her lips. "I'll see you tomorrow." She nodded. "Good night," she whispered. She hurried over to the window to watch him exit the building. He opened his car door, pausing to look up at her window, smiling when he saw her standing there. She leaned her face against the cold glass, watching him drive away. A combination of fear and excitement settled heavily on her. For years, she had thought herself in love with him. But now she knew she had been wrong. Because from the moment she had welcomed him into her arms, into her body; from the moment he had turned his considerable attention to her, she felt herself tumble head over heels in love with him. What she had felt for him before paled in comparison. But she was terrified. Scared out of her mind that with his finding some resolution to his search for Samantha and with the death of his only remaining family, that she had become his new obsession. She knew he loved her. She needed to be sure that he was in love with her. She had given up so much else to Mulder; to his quest; to their work. Giving him her heart freely would not happen easily. ********** Two days later they each used a vacation day to make the drive to Connecticut. Their first stop was at the funeral home where they picked up Teena Mulder's ashes. Mulder handed the box wordlessly to Scully as he slid into the driver's seat. She cradled it in her lap, one hand resting protectively on the lid. When they arrived at Mrs. Mulder's home, Scully carefully set the box down on a table in the living room. Mulder was staring at the empty picture frames scattered about the room. He started violently when Scully placed her hand on his back. "Why would she burn all of the pictures?" he asked without looking at her. Scully sighed and rested her cheek against his spine. She had no answer for him. So many of the things his mother had done continued to puzzle her. "What do you want to do first?" she asked as she shed her coat. Mulder turned, cupped her hips in his hands and rested his chin on the crown of her head as he considered her words. "Why don't we just take it room by room and decide if there is anything we want to keep. We can make arrangements later to have everything else donated to charity, I guess." He rubbed his chin against her hair and kissed her softly before turning to their bags sitting near the door. Mulder carried their belongings upstairs and Scully wandered around the first floor. Scully had been to Mrs. Mulder's house before, but this was the first opportunity she'd had to take a good look around. Teena had amassed a small collection of beautiful objects over her lifetime, but Scully couldn't imagine any of them adorning Mulder's very masculine apartment. He bounded down the steps and met up with her in the kitchen. "Let's start with the basement." They went out to the car first to bring in the moving boxes that they'd brought along and lugged them down the narrow stairs. Scully stared at the neat, organized basement. Everything was packed in carefully marked boxes. "I see you didn't get your organizational skills from your mother," she said cheekily. Mulder grinned, pulling down one box and beginning to rummage through it. They worked quietly for about an hour. Scully had an empty box near her and she would place items that she thought Mulder would be interested in into it for him to look through later. Dusting off the seat of her jeans, she stood up and pulled another box down from a shelf. Plopping back down onto the cement floor, she pulled back the flaps of the box and lifted out one of the photo albums. She peeled back the protective plastic in which Mrs. Mulder had wrapped the book and flipped it open to the first page. A young Teena Mulder was holding what appeared to be a one year-old Samantha on her lap. The baby was laughing, leaning down toward a dark-haired little boy of about five years who was balanced precariously on his toes, lifting his mouth to his baby sister for a kiss. Scully's eyes traced over the happy family. "Mulder?" she called. He lifted his head and turned toward her. "I think you'll want to see this." She continued flipping through the pages of the book. Mulder settled down on the floor next to her. "She must have forgotten about this box," he said thinking of the empty picture frames upstairs. Scully had stopped at a picture of Mulder with a huge birthday cake in front of him. She counted eight candles and smiled at the gap-toothed grin he had flashed for the camera. "Mulder, why do all eight year-old boys have to smile like that?" she wondered, thinking of the cheesy grins that had graced more than one picture of her brothers. Mulder laughed and leaned over her shoulder to turn the page. There were dozens of family photos in the album, but Scully was naturally drawn to the ones showing Mulder as a small boy. She paused at a picture of him proudly showing off his new bike. On another page was a photo of what was obviously a commemoration of a first day at school. She lingered over snapshots of him flying a kite on the beach; building a snowman with Samantha. Scully snickered at one photograph of Mulder, resplendent in his Indian Guide uniform, posing for the camera, trying to look rugged, with one booted foot firmly planted on a rock. The pictures trailed off after several years, leaving only Mulder's school photos. Scully closed the book; sorry to see the pensive look that had stolen over his features. With a sigh she wrapped the book with its plastic cover. "I was hoping for a requisite 'naked baby on the bearskin rug' picture," she smiled, hoping to lighten his mood. Mulder rolled his eyes at her and wandered back to the other side of the basement to drag another box out. She had been placing the photo album into the box of mementos that she had been setting aside for Mulder when she heard him give a small cry. Spinning around, she found him kneeling on the floor next to an open box. Each item that he drew out of the box was wrapped in bubblewrap. Basketball and swimming trophies, a model of a rocket. A folder filled with report cards and achievement awards. A smaller box stuffed with crayon drawings, paper valentines and homemade greeting cards. A small metal box revealed a macaroni necklace reverently wrapped in tissue, a ragged bunch of wildflowers pressed between two pieces of wax paper and other offerings from a boy to his mother. Each item bore a small tag of paper bearing Teena's neat penmanship marking the occasion of the gift - 'Mother's Day, May 1965 - Fox'. Scully carefully re-wrapped each item and placed them back into the box. "We're keeping this box," she smiled and carried it across the room to place it near the other box of items she had been gathering. Looking over her shoulder, she saw that Mulder was still sitting on the floor. A glance up at the basement windows showed that it was nearly dark and Mulder suddenly seemed exhausted. She urged him upstairs and into the shower. While he was getting cleaned up, she flipped open the telephone directory and ordered a pizza. Deciding to wait until bedtime to take her shower, she quickly washed up at the kitchen sink. Mulder walked down the steps just as the pizza was being delivered. The hot water seemed to have revived him somewhat and they settled onto the sofa. The evening passed quickly as they ate the pizza and watched television. ********* Scully woke up, momentarily confused by her strange surroundings before remembering where she was. She settled back against the pillows but lifted her head again. She could hear Mulder moving around in his old bedroom. Scully slipped into her robe, knotting the sash as she crept down the hall to peer into his room. A quick glance around told her that Teena Mulder had remodeled this room after her son had left for Oxford. No trace of a teenaged boy remained. Of course, Scully's own mother had redecorated her and Missy's room into a guest room after they had moved out. Mulder was going through the box of mementos that his mother had saved, unwrapping each object and studying it carefully. Scully pushed the door open and he looked up. His hazel eyes shone with unshed tears. She picked her way through the clutter of bubblewrap and tissue paper surrounding him and settled onto the floor next to him. "Why don't you tell me about some of these things?" she asked, lifting the macaroni necklace. Mulder reached out and touched the necklace with one finger, sending it swinging. "I made that for her in first grade. Valentine's Day, I think." Scully grinned. "Ah, yes. The traditional Valentine's Day macaroni necklace." She laughed, fingering the knotted string of the clasp. "I think I made my mother rosary out of plastic beads one time." Mulder took the necklace out of her hands and wrapped it back into the tissue paper. "She wore it all day," he remembered. Scully smiled, imagining a perfectly coifed Teena foregoing her usual pearls for a macaroni necklace. She asked him about other mementos in the box and he told her the story behind each one. "Judging by the way these things are wrapped, I'd say they meant the world to your mother," she said as she placed the last object back into the box and lifted the lid onto it. Mulder ran his hand over the cardboard lid. "I loved her. Sometimes I hated her for keeping so many secrets from me. But mostly, I just...I just loved her." Scully stood and pulled Mulder up with her. She led him over to the bed and urged him to sit down. She knelt in front of him and tugged his T-shirt over his head. "She loved you too, Mulder. I don't claim to understand why she did the things that she did and I didn't know her very well. But even having only met her a few times, I...I never doubted how much she loved you. Or how proud she was of you." Mulder gathered her into his arms, burying his face in her neck. Scully stretched up, molding her torso to his and murmured soothingly to him as his harsh, uneven breaths scorched her skin. After a few minutes, his breathing softened and he lifted his head to look at her. "Why don't you try to get some sleep," she suggested. Mulder's fingers fumbled at the knot of her robe, loosening it and pushing the cotton from her shoulders. He lay back onto the pillows and silently asked her to lie down with him. She nodded and turned off the light before sliding into the bed next to him. He rolled onto his side and his hand settled on her belly. She expected him to seek comfort in her body as he had before and she fought an inner battle over whether to give him that comfort or deny him. So she was surprised when his hand slid from her belly to wrap around her waist and he flung one leg over hers, settling his head comfortably on the pillow next to hers. "Good night," he whispered against her hair. ********* The next day, Mulder made arrangements with an estates buyer to come out to the house to appraise the furniture and other items that he would be disposing of. As he discussed a convenient weekend to meet with the buyer, he picked up a desk calendar and was startled to see the date. Shit, he thought, quickly making arrangements to drive back up to Greenwich in two weeks time. He hung up the telephone and once more stared at the calendar. Shit, he thought again. Climbing the steps, he found Scully sorting through his mother's clothes, folding each piece deemed worthy into a box for charity. She pulled a sweater set out of the closet and fingered the expensive material. "Your mother had exquisite taste," she told him as she placed the sweater set into the box. "I seem to make a habit out of forgetting your birthday," he announced. Scully looked up at him, startled. "Well, Mulder, there were a lot of things going on in your life," she reminded him. "Yeah, I know," he sighed. "But it would be nice to celebrate something for once. Would you like to go out to dinner tonight?" She looked at him consideringly. "I didn't pack anything dressy," she warned. "Do you have a pair of slacks and a sweater?" he asked. She nodded. "Then you'll be fine." ************ He had made reservations, but their table wasn't ready yet. The hostess directed them to the bar for a drink while they waited. All of the barstools were occupied so they took up a place near one end. Mulder ordered a glass of white wine for Scully and a beer for himself. The restaurant was a popular one and the bar grew crowded with patrons waiting for their tables. It was a boisterous, noisy crowd of people spending their Saturday evening getting away from their everyday problems. Scully stood with her back to the bar, her elbows propped up on its gleaming surface. Mulder stood before her, one hand wrapped around a beer glass resting on the bar next to her. Someone pushed his or her way past Mulder and he was forced to step closer to Scully. Her breasts brushed against his chest and he hooked one hand into the waistband of her slacks. Stroking the backs of his fingers against the soft skin of her belly, his thumb dipped playfully into her belly button and he smiled teasingly at her when he felt her stomach muscles quiver under his touch. He lowered his mouth next to her ear so that she could hear him over the noisy din of the crowd. "Maybe we should have stayed at home." His breath was warm against her ear. Scully tilted her head to the side. Her elbows slid off the bar and Mulder took another step forward, trapping her between him and the bar. She shivered and clutched his hips in her hands when he scraped the bristled roughness of his chin over the exposed side of her neck. Mulder soothed the sting of the faint marks with fingers chilled from his beer glass. "I want to kiss you," he said roughly. Scully tilted her chin, offering her lips to him. "But we're in a public place," he murmured regretfully, brushing his lips lightly, unsatisfingly over hers. Scully's eyes drifted closed when he gently bit her jaw. He pulled away when the hostess indicated that their table was ready. They spent the evening talking easily about work and what still had to be done to finish cleaning out his mother's house. Mulder grinned when Scully clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her peals of laughter when he regaled her with stories of some of his earliest encounters with the Lone Gunmen. Over dessert and coffee, Mulder pulled a small velvet box out of his pocket. "I decided to keep most of my mother's jewelry," he told her. "I'll probably lock it up in a safe deposit box or something," he continued. "But I wanted you to have these for your birthday." He pushed the small box across the table. Scully lifted it with trembling fingers and opened the lid. Sparkling on a bed of black velvet was a pair of diamond stud earrings. Simple and elegant, each stone weighed about a half-carat. "I saw my mother wear these nearly every day," he told her. "They belonged to my father's mother and she gave them to my mother on their wedding day." "Oh, Mulder. I don't know..." she began. "She would have wanted you to have them. They belong to you," he said simply. Scully's lips trembled and she raised watery eyes to his. She removed the tiny gold hoops from her ears and replaced them with the diamonds. She pushed her hair behind her ears so that he could admire them. "Perfect," he declared. "They're beautiful," she whispered. "Thank you." Mulder lifted her hand and stroked his thumb over her left ring finger. "Happy Birthday, Scully." *************