REPOST" Pink Carnations & Soft Flannel Boxers" By PamalaSt
PamalaSt
By PamalaSt and MarkSt
Disclaimer: Mulder , Scully and all things X files belong to Chris Carter,
1013 and fox. not mine but who can resist taking them out for a spin here and
there
Rating: PG 13 for suggestive situations
Archive?: Sure ,but please ask first
Feedback: You Bet !!! love to hear it send all feedback to Pama...@aol.com
** NOTE this is now part of a TRIO <g> ( of course they stand alone just fine
)
" Pink Towel and Lavender panties" ..... "Pink Carnations and Soft flannel
boxers"
And the end now in " Her Love / His touch "
I've been sitting here at my desk moving papers around for the last hour
waiting for everyone to leave so I could be alone. Well, I'm not entirely
alone. There's me and this slightly garish bouquet of pink and lavender
carnations sitting on my desk to keep me company.
I still can't believe he did that. And the expression on my face when they
arrived must have priceless.
Oh yeah, he got me, he got me good.
I can only imagine what everyone around here is thinking. Almost everyone
that is. He wasn't even here when they were delivered. And when he did
arrive, he took a glancing look at them and me and sat down to work at his desk
as if nothing had happened. Wasn't it enough that I'd been keenly aware of the
undergarments he picked out for me this morning, feeling them hug me, as if his
hands themselves were pressed against my skin?
No, that wasn't enough for Mulder. There wasn't the slightest hint, the
faintest trace of acknowledgment when I opened the card which simply said "An
admirer". He played it calm and cool the whole day even going so far as to
joke that the admirer must not know me very well because I was, and I quote
"not a pastel kind of girl".
And then he casually took one of the pink carnations, tossed it into his desk
drawer, and went right back to filling out his daily paperwork without missing
a beat, leaving me to stare at the back of his head the rest of the afternoon
and wonder what exactly is going on in that twisted Mulder mind of his. Of
course, I'm not sure if even he has a clue about that.
Not knowing what else to do, I went to the ladies room to get a moment away
from him and a chance to compose myself. Unfortunately, there is something
about a floral delivery in the workplace that transforms otherwise reserved
professional women into gossipy teens all over again. All I wanted was 5
minutes to sort out exactly what was going on.
I didn't even get 5 seconds.
"Dana", exclaimed Agent Young, before I had even finished walking through the
ladies room door, a big smile beaming from her face.
She was the only other female agent sharing our communal office since Mulder
and I had been banished from the basement. I wondered if I could turn on my
heels and walk back out in anything resembling a smooth and graceful exit. But
it was already too late. I had stepped into the lion's den and those gleaming
teeth told me that the beast was hungry.
"Debbie," I replied, forcing a strained smile in her direction. And so the
girl talk inquisition began.
Unbelievably, she immediately jumped to the wrong conclusion. She didn't even
mention Mulder but thought I had some new beau in the bureau and started subtly
pressing me for any information she could. Apparently she was taking the "I"
in FBI very seriously today.
After fending off her initial charges, she realized that she wasn't going to be
getting any juicy morsels from me, so she decided to change tactics and dole
out a few instead. She let me know quite clearly that it hadn't escaped her
attention that Mulder had taken one of the flowers from my vase, undoubtedly to
give to another lady. I listened intently as she laid out the office chatter
about Mulder's current romantic conquest, all the while hoping that my cell
phone would ring or the power go out, anything to give me a chance to escape.
I'd heard all the talk before. Most of the time it's speculation about what's
really going on between "Spooky and the Ice Maiden" or how attractive he is or
how his restless intensity and passion coupled with appearing troubled and
misunderstood is like a magnet to many women or, well, you get the general
idea. . . .
I can't imagine what he might have done to fuel the flames regarding this
latest rumor, however. But I'm definitely going to find out. So, feigning
ignorance once more as to whom my admirer was, I left Agent Young and all of
the office gossips to draw their own conclusions.
I spent the remainder of the day going about business as usual, stealing an
occasional glance at the bouquet and the man behind them. As the day finally
wound down and everyone started heading home to their wives and families, I
made some weak excuse, which Mulder didn't buy for a second, about needing to
finish up a few things. And then he left without saying a word, leaving me to
contemplate my next move.
I do like it here at night. It's so quiet I can almost hear my own thoughts.
What does he expect me to do? Is he sitting there in his apartment right now,
anxiously waiting, wondering if I'm going to come by? Should I disappoint him?
Should I disappoint me?
Watching the computer monitor, I drift back and start thinking about Melissa.
I wonder what she would say, what she would do in my place. But I already know
the answer before I ask the question.
She was always the headstrong one, never holding back her thoughts or feelings.
Never denying what her heart felt. I can hear her now. *Better to take a
chance and face the fear than let real love slip away.* Somehow it's easier
to go to Mulder with Missy's voice urging me on.
Having made my choice, I grab the bouquet and head toward the door. As I walk
by his desk, a sudden impulse comes over me and I stop to open his top desk
drawer.
It's gone.
Funny, I never took him for the sentimental type. I can't help but smile
thinking of that poor, unsuspecting flower being pressed between the pages of
the latest hardcover edition of "The Truth about UFOs Revealed". I take
another pink carnation and softly place it in the drawer. Why not give him
something to think about for a change?
Is this who we are? Just a collection of silly gestures, unspoken words,
tentative moves? Is this the road that we're traveling to find our way to each
other?
I trust Mulder with my life. Perhaps it's time to trust him with my heart as
well.
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*Come on, Scully. Knock already.*
I've been sitting here on the edge of the couch since I got home, alternating
between watching the door and staring at the carnation in my hand.
Is she angry with me for sending her flowers? I couldn't tell. Maybe I didn't
want to know. I've never been as good at reading her as she is at reading me.
After all this time spent at the FBI. . . , analyzing, investigating, using my
profiling skills to delve behind the thoughts and motives of the various
suspects we've come across, the one person I can't figure out is the one
closest to me.
I look down at this small pink bud, caressing its petals, studying it's facets.
*Scully is not a pink carnation. No, my Scully, the one who holds my heart in
her hands is a rose. A beautiful, graceful, long-stem white rose. *
I look up and suddenly she is here, standing by the door watching me, looking
at the flower in my hands.
"You do realize that Agent Young is certain that you took that to give to your
new lady love", she says slyly. "Don't worry, Mulder, your secret is safe with
me. The talk is that you've been carrying on quite a torrid little love affair
with Kersch's secretary."
I break out into a wide smile. I hadn't missed the less-than-subtle
flirtations that his secretary had been tossing in front of me at every
opportunity. Hell, I'm not that oblivious, but it was amusing to think that it
was worthy of making the rounds in the office rumor mill.
"Well, don't feel too bad, Scully. I completely missed it too."
I don't know what to say to her. I feel like a jerk for the way I've behaved
today. I just want to apologize, to make things right, hold on to my partner,
my friend. I just want everything to be like it used to be.
I drop the flower onto the coffee table and cross the room towards her. I keep
telling myself to do the right thing, to play it safe. How many other times
have I been willing to put aside the dream of reaching for something more in
order to keep what we already have, to hold tight to what she already gives me?
If I lost that. . .
"I'm sorry, Scully. I stepped over the line this morning. I promise you that
if we just put it behind us, I'll make sure that it never happens again."
I'm gazing into her eyes, looking for some sign of forgiveness, when she moves
closer, laying her palms against my chest. She slides her hands up under the
suit coat I didn't know I was still wearing, stroking my shoulders as she
slowly pushes it up and away from my chest. I take a quick inhale of air as my
coat drops to the floor, feeling her body so dangerously close to mine.
"Don't be sorry, Mulder. I'm not," she answers in a soft, soothing voice as
her fingers start loosening my necktie, then casually discarding it to the
floor. This is not the response I'd expected, but I can't stop her. I don't
want to stop her.
Her fingertips start working on the buttons of my shirt, one after another, my
chest rising and falling in uneven breaths.
"You know, Mulder, I've been thinking about that line. Perhaps it's not so
much a line as a river, one that should be crossed cautiously. "
As she finishes with the last buttons and tugs at the hem of my shirt to slide
it free from my pants, I bring up my hands to help her. She takes them firmly
in her own, giving me a determined gaze, and places them back at my side.
"No, Mulder. Let me."
My head starts spinning as she pushes the shirt off my shoulders, her thumbs
accidentally grazing against my chest, sending an involuntary shiver coursing
throughout my body. I close my eyes for a moment, letting my mind wander back
to this morning, to Scully in the bedroom, naked.
I can visualize her in front of me. God, she is so beautiful. I can see her
watching my reactions to her as she puts on her lingerie. I can feel her soft
hands touching my bare chest.
Touching my chest?
My eyes fly open, to find her face opposite mine, her hands pressed against my
skin.
"Hey, wait a minute. I thought there was no touching?"
A delightfully playful smile slowly spreads across her lips, breaking the
tension and frustration that's ready to swallow me up.
"Rules, Mulder? I don't remember any discussions about rules. I never said
you couldn't touch me. And as I recall, you never asked."
I can't help laughing at myself. "Talk about a missed opportunity." As we
stand there, smiling at each other with an ease that's taken us six years to
achieve, she brings both her hands back up against my chest, sending a chill
through my body. She senses me shuddering under her touch, sees my hand
trembling. A look of sudden concern washes across her face and she halts her
exploration.
"Don't you want me to touch you, Mulder?"
For a moment, I consider opting for the usual response, the safe choice. But
no, not tonight. Tonight, I owe Scully the truth. Whatever may happen.
I reach up covering both her hands in mine, pulling them tight against me. I
gently run my thumbs over the soft skin on the back of her hands, searching her
eyes for the emotions behind them.
"Scully, your touch is the only one I want."
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---------------------------------
*The only one*
Those three words start my heart racing. There is something here, something
between us. We still have a chance at this. I can feel the trust and
vulnerability behind his words flowing through his hands into mine like a
river. I don't want to forget this moment. Ever.
I bring his hand up against my flushed cheek, stroking it with my fingers. I
need to feel his skin against my own to make it all seem real.
I take his hands and place them back down at his sides. This is for you,
Mulder. This is only for you. I run my hands carefully across his chest, not
wanting to miss an inch. That's when I find it, the scar on his shoulder. The
scar he got when I shot him all those years ago. The scar he wears because of
me.
I look up into his eyes and I'm overcome with guilt. I know I had no other
choice but that still doesn't change the fact that I hurt him. Without
thinking, I bring my lips to it, covering the wound I gave him with my soft,
healing kisses. As I fight back the tears threatening to overwhelm me, he
lifts my chin up, bringing my face up to his.
"It's OK," is all he says. But looking in his eyes I can see everything that
remains unsaid.
I know he loves me. He let me know in the hallway outside this apartment. He
even spoke the words in the hospital after I rescued him from the Bermuda
Triangle. I've been the one who has failed to make my feelings clear. And
I've hurt him yet again by not telling him.
It all comes down to this. It's up to me to take the next and final step. . .
.
I bring my lips to his, softly.
I can scarcely breathe. My eyes closed, savoring the moment, I can feel myself
melting away, losing myself in the sensations flooding through me. But I can
still feel him holding back.
Unwilling to break the contact between us, I pull my lips away from his,
brushing my face against the rough, stubbled skin of his cheek as I whisper in
his ear.
"You wanted to kiss me once, Mulder. Does it take the threat of losing me to
make you show me how you feel?"
I plant several tiny kisses on his cheek before making my final plea.
"Show me, Mulder. Show me now."
Nothing.
I begin to pull away from him, feeling shattered and lost, as if our last
chance to move past the boundaries that have always held us back has
disappeared.
Suddenly, his arm snakes around my waist, pulling me hard against him as his
other hand grabs the back of my neck, his fingers threading roughly through my
hair and pulling my lips back to his, claiming me completely and entirely,
holding nothing back. His lips press forcefully against mine, his tongue
desperately searching and exploring every part of my mouth and tongue. I sense
his hand sliding down to the small of my back, pulling my hips against his,
letting me feel the strength of his need for me. I spread my legs apart
slightly to draw him in closer, wanting to feel all of him against me. My arms
curl up around his back as my fingers clutch his shoulders.
If that first gentle kiss took my breath away, this one leaves me barely able
to stand.
It's everything I've ever dreamed of, how I always knew my Mulder would be. . .
strong, passionate, powerful. Taking all I have to offer and demanding more.
His hand releases its hold on my hair and slides down my neck to the side of my
chest, his fingers coming to rest under my breast, as his lips leave mine and
begin tracing the same course. I close my eyes and throw my head back, feeling
his lips and tongue feast on my neck and shoulders, surrendering to the fire
spreading throughout me. I can feel his firm touch moving up my breast
eliciting a small moan from me.
*Yes, Mulder*
As my fingers fumble to undo his belt, he grabs my hands, jerking them away in
a sudden and harsh motion.
"No, Scully. Don't."
Without saying another word, he storms away into the bedroom, leaving me alone
and confused.
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God, after all these years, I've finally gone and done it. . . . given in to
everything I desperately want but don't deserve. The smell of her skin, the
taste of her sweet lips, it was just like I've imagined, no, better than I've
imagined countless times in my dreams. I will never forget it, but I had to
walk away. It has to stop now, while it still can. I love her enough to know
that she deserves someone better than me.
I cross over to the far end of the bedroom, trying to get as far away from her
as possible. Why didn't I get rid off all this stuff and put it back to the
way it was? Did I really think that she'd ever want to come here and share it
with me?
I can hear the sound of her footsteps moving to leave. *That's right, Scully.
Go. You should have walked away a long time ago. I will never mean anything
but pain and heartbreak to you. You're better off without me and I'm better
off alone.*
I keep waiting to hear the click of the door closing, but it never comes. What
are you waiting for? Instead I hear her coming this way. I should have known
she'd never let me get away with leaving her like that.
As she walks through the door, the look on her face is not what I expected.
Her pained expression isn't one of hurt or anger, but concern, not for herself,
but for me.
"Mulder, please. Don't hide from me. I'm not sure what it is you're feeling
right now but whatever it is, don't shut me out. "
She has her coat on. She was ready to leave. Perhaps I can still do this,
persuade her to go for her own sake. Afraid to meet her eyes, I look away,
taking a deep breath and trying to find whatever courage and resolve I have
left to allow me to do this. I can't let her see my face or she'll never
believe what I'm saying.
"Scully, this is wrong. It's not your fault, it's mine. I started this entire
thing this morning for my own selfish reasons. But it was a mistake. Just
like me, Scully, a mistake. I'm not going to let you do this. I can't. The
price is too high. For God's sake, look at everything that's happened to you
in the last 6 years. All because of me. If you'd never met me, never been
assigned to the X-files, if you had gotten some normal partner, you might have
the life you want, that normal life you deserve."
She takes several steps toward me and I raise my hand to stop her. The closer
she gets, the harder it becomes. If she touches me now, I know I would
collapse into her arms. I can feel the tears starting to build in my eyes, but
I fight them back, struggling to keep composed so I can finish this.
"Scully, think about it." I yell harshly at her, channeling all the pain and
anger I can dredge up into words designed to close the door between us for
good. "Melissa, your abduction, your cancer, all of the other terrible things
done to you have been because of me. God, Scully, you'll never be able to have
children because of me. I've nearly destroyed your life. I have no idea how
you've managed to even survive it all. But I know I can't subject you to
anymore. Leave, Scully. Just walk out right and now and try to salvage what
you can. Go find a man who can give you a home, a life, someone who can love
you that you can love back. Because if you stay with me, you'll end up dead.
And I couldn't handle that."
I stand there silently, my eyes filled with the tears I couldn't stop, waiting
for her to walk out of my life once and for all.
I keep waiting for her to leave, for her to grasp the reality of the situation.
But she doesn't. She crosses in front of me, taking my hand in hers as she
looks at me, the tears in her eyes matching my own. I can see the
unconditional love in her face, reaching into my heart making it impossible for
me to hide the truth. I've failed.
"I'm not leaving, Mulder. I can't", she says in a barely audible voice that
reaches into my very soul. "Because I love you."
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We've come so far and been through so much together that I'm not going to walk
away now, Mulder. I had that chance last summer. I couldn't do it then and
I'm certainly not going to do it now. Whether you realize it or not, we've
invested too much in each other to let it slip away.
I know what you're trying to do, the same thing you've always done: trying to
protect me and keep me from being hurt. But how can I make you see that the
thought of being without you is what hurts me most of all.
I speak to him, slowly, gently, trying to find the right words to reach that
part of him I need to find.
"Mulder, you know I'd do anything to have Melissa back, but all the rest of it
is meaningless without you."
No response. He just keeps standing there motionless, watching me silently.
Even when I told him I loved him, he said nothing.
Then it hits me. Suddenly it all becomes so clear. He's willing to give up
his own happiness because he believes it's the best thing for me. Because he
loves me and thinks it will save me. Then I realize it's not me who needs to
hear the words; I know them as intimately as if he's been telling me for years.
No, what he needs is to say them.
"Mulder, if I mean anything to you, as a partner, as a friend, don't lie to me
now. Don't think you're protecting me by telling me what you think I need to
hear. I trust you with my life. . . ", I hesitate, as my voice starts to
break. "There's no one in this entire world that I trust more. Show me that
you feel the same way, that you trust me completely, and tell me how you truly
feel."
I take a deep breath and move in front of him. If he turns away again, it
could be the end and I'm not prepared to let that happen. Our bodies almost
touching, I reach out and lift his chin with my hand, feeling the rough stubble
against my fingers. Our eyes meet and I can see all the pain and confusion
behind them. All the words that lie unspoken between us are there, just
beneath the surface, struggling to escape. I'm going to give them their
chance.
Keeping my eyes locked on his, unwilling to give him the opportunity to avoid
this, I can sense all of my fears and desires and needs merging into what I
have to say.
"If you can honestly tell me that you don't love me, then I'll leave."
He looks away, running his fingers through his dark hair, desperately searching
for the strength to answer. I close my eyes, afraid that somehow he will find
the strength to say no.
After what seems like an eternity, he looks at me. Speaking so softly that I
can barely hear them, his words scream to my head and my heart.
"You know I love you, Scully."
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---------------------------------
There I said it, the ultimate in selfish behavior. I'm willing to let her give
up her life for me. Of course, I would sacrifice mine for hers in an instant.
But what else could I do? As afraid as I am to love her, I'm even more afraid
to let her go.
As I stand there watching her, feelings and emotions raging through my mind,
she goes back to the work of undressing me. Her fingers quickly unbutton my
pants as her hands slip inside them onto my hips, pulling both my pants and
boxers to the floor in an easy, fluid motion. This time I don't even try to
stop her. At this point, clothing makes little difference. I'm already naked
before her.
She takes a step back and sits down on the bed. As lost and confused as I feel
right now, struggling to make sense of everything that has happened since this
morning, I scarcely even notice her eyes wandering over my naked body.
I feel so weak, hating myself for not having the strength to put her safety
above my own wants and needs. I look at her face expecting to see my own
self-disgust mirrored in those green eyes of hers. But of course, I don't. I
should know better than to expect that from my Scully. All I see is
understanding, acceptance. . . . and love. The smile that is slowly spreading
across her tear-stained face is like a hand lifting me up, waving away with a
flash the terrible weight that has been pressing down on me.
I wonder if she knows that only she has the power to reach inside me like that,
the power to heal all my wounds.
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Sitting on the edge of the bed as my eyes roam over his body, one thought just
keeps repeating through my mind. *He's perfect.*
For a moment, I drift away, imagining his body pressed against mine, skin
against skin. Taking a quick inhale of air at the prospect, I can feel the
unmistakable rush of desire surging through me. It would be so easy. . . so
good just to be with him now, to give in to every aching need we both feel. If
he knew the fantasies flooding through me now, what would he think? I have
never wanted a man more in my entire life. But this isn't just about sex.
Tonight, I hope he'll trust me enough to open his heart to me as well.
Opening my eyes, I look at his face. . . . so much pain. How much misery must
he have endured in his life to make him think that his own happiness doesn't
matter or to think I could ever really be happy without him? I make a final
mental picture of him standing there, fixing it in my mind.
"You're a beautiful man, Mulder. You shouldn't be alone."
A soft smile makes the picture complete.
"But I'm not alone, Scully, I have you."
I can feel my heart swell in my chest. Does he really understand what he just
said?
"Yes, you do," she replies gently, the words reaching straight into my heart.
"But do you really want me?"
"Want you?! Hmm, let's see. As a special agent and investigator, Dr. Scully,
I would think in my present state of undress you might be able to use those
deductive powers of yours to come to a conclusion based on the available
facts."
Over the years I've gotten used to Mulder using humor to deflect the really
tough questions. But it takes me by surprise just the same.
*Nice try, Mulder, but if you think I'm letting you off the hook that easy
you're wrong.* Judging from the evidence he has a point there. And while it is
very impressive, that's not really what I'm talking about here.
"No, it's not just about sex, Mulder. I need to know if you really want me,
all of me, my heart and soul."
I can see the tears clouding his eyes as my own flow down my cheeks. There is
a warmth and happiness in his voice that makes it nearly impossible for me to
believe that it has taken us so many years to finally find love, as if we've
finally acknowledged what has always been there.
"I do want you, Scully," he answers carefully. "I want every part of you that
you're willing to give. " He stops for a moment and I can see the hint of
self-doubt creeping into his face. "I just can't fathom why you would want
me."
In reply, I reach beneath his pillow and pull out the soft flannel boxers he
stows under there and casually toss them to him. I can't help but laugh at
the surprised look on his face. After all these years out on the road
together in one cheap motel after another, did he really think he had any
secrets left?
"I can't help it, Mulder, I just do. Now get dressed and I'll be back in a
minute."
______________________________________________________________________
I 'm not sure why she left the room, but I try to not give it much thought. I
know she's not leaving. She's here to stay. It all feels so incredible I
can't imagine how I've fought these feelings for so long. But not any more.
It's not going to be easy. There's still so many things that we have to face,
but now I know we'll face what ever comes in time, together.
She walks back into the room wearing the white silk pajamas that I recognize
from a drunken late night visit to her apartment last summer. I doubt I can
even speak as she pulls back the blankets and climbs into my bed. With effort
I manage a few coherent words.
"You're staying, Scully?"
She pulls back the covers and pats a spot next to her on the bed for me to join
her.
"All these years, Mulder, I can't begin to tell you how many times I've lain
awake in some hotel room god knows where knowing that you were in the next room
alone. How many sleepless nights did I spend when all I really wanted was to
be in your arms but I couldn't find the courage to go to you?"
Her words touch me. So many nights I had longed to be with her not knowing
that she felt the same way.
As I slip into the bed next to her, she puts her arms around me. Before I know
what is happening, I am lying with my head on her chest listening to the soft
beating of her heart. As her fingers run gently through my hair, I feel
enveloped in a warm, healing cocoon. I want to drown in the sensation. As I
open my mouth in a vain effort at speech, I heard her soft, soothing voice.
"It's OK, Mulder."
Somehow, I believe that is it. I manage to get the words out before I am
totally lost.
"I love you, Scully."
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Is there more ??? You bet :) Would I really leave things like that <g>
Read the last story " Her Love / His touch " to see what happens next .....