Title:
Three's a Crowd
Author:
Ann K
Email:
annhkus@yahoo.com
Category:
MSR
Rating:
NC-17, for consensual sex between adults.
Spoilers:
None
Summary:
"But, hell. The whole damn week had been foreplay. Their entire
professional relationship had only been a preamble to this very moment."
Disclaimer:
All hail Chris Carter and the gods for their creation of Mulder and Scully.
Despite being envious, I am also grateful (for the most part), and definitely
don't own them.
16th
Street Warehouse, Downtown D.C.
9:57
am, Monday
"Mulder,
when our position is not quite so laughable, you must explain the reasons behind
this little fetish." He met her smirk with one of his own, laughing
humorlessly at their situation.
"Scully,
two things. One, my fetishes, if indeed you persist in thinking that I have
them, are a little more
The
sirens in the distance indicated that the cavalry was indeed arriving. A little
late, Scully thought, surveying the damage. The collapsing floor took she and
Mulder by surprise, dropping both of them on their backsides to a darkened area
beneath the main floor of the warehouse.
She
lay curled in his arms, grimacing at the pain she knew would turn into serious
aches and bruises in the days to come. He
still had his Sig held tightly in his right hand, having been able to get off
one shot before the floor fell from beneath them. That was all it took, she
thought, if the crumpling of the suspect's body before their fall was any
indication.
"Scully,
what exactly did the guy tell you this morning?"
She
pushed herself up, wiping the dirt off her forehead with a sigh and slowly
getting to her feet. "That the call came from this old warehouse, that we
needed to get down here before..."
Her
voice trailed off as she turned to give Mulder a hand. If they hadn't been
nearly knocked silly by their fall, she imagined that he would be in bliss at
the moment.
The
sunlight shone dimly from the windows in the room above them, falling down
across Mulder as he lay awkwardly against the wall, breathing heavily. Each arm,
including the one that still held his weapon, was wrapped tightly around a naked
woman, a breast cupped firmly in both hands.
Looking
around, she saw that he was surrounded by women. All shapes. All sizes. And all
naked. The tip had declined to mention that the warehouse was storage for a
rubber blow-up doll company, but it all seemed fitting somehow.
"Agent
Scully!" Skinner's voice echoed through the emptiness of the building, and
she stuck her head towards
X-Files
Office
9:30
am, Tuesday
"Mulder,
is this really necessary?" She shook her head, trying for the millionth
time to reconcile herself with Mulder's outlandish other half. Propped up under
the words I WANT TO BELIEVE, announcing her presence to anyone who might be
walking by, was one of the slightly squashed, but still voluptuous, rubber
blow-up dolls from yesterday's fiasco.
At
least Mulder had the decency to cover up the key areas; a loud-print Hawaiian
shirt with a colorful lei was hanging loosely from the doll's frame.
"Great, Mulder," she muttered as she turned away towards her desk.
"I feel like we are working on the islands."
"Scully,"
he answered patiently, never taking his eyes off the report in front of him,
"I think it gives the office some class, don't you? Besides, if we are
destined to be the lone inhabitants of the dark dungeons of the FBI Building, we
can at least have some company."
She
grimaced. "Mulder, she's not company. She's rubber."
"See,
Scully," he said with a sigh, dropping his papers on the desk and leaning
back in the chair, his head nearly resting in the doll's lap. "That's where
you are missing the key understanding of the male psyche."
Obviously,
she thought, settling down into her chair as she prepared to finish her report
for Skinner about yesterday's events. The good news was that the suspect, who
had been raping and murdering women on the Southside for months, was dead. The
bad news was, in Mulder's haste to follow up on the anonymous tip, they had left
without backup and nearly gotten themselves killed.
"It's
not just sexual, you know."
Her
head jerked up at the mention of "sexual," having tuned Mulder out as
she tried to get her work done. Sex was always an interesting word coming from
Mulder's lips.
"Okay,
so if it is not sexual, then what is it? Why do they go to so much trouble to
make the dolls anatomically correct if their sole function was not to provide
sexual comfort for lonely men?" She started to blush in spite of herself.
Discussing
sex with Mulder was not how she wanted to spend the morning. It was too
dangerous of a topic for both of them. There had been something deliciously
erotic about lying in Mulder's arms yesterday surrounded by naked women. She
trembled a little from the memory, forcing herself to focus on Mulder's lips and
the words he was speaking.
Bad
idea. He had beautiful lips. Funny, watching them move, she decided she could
listen to him speak for days on end. Now that was a first, she thought. Wouldn't
he be thrilled to know that little fact?
They
had been partners too long for her to still be vulnerable to moments of sexual
attraction. Lust, she
"So,
you see, Scully, it is all about a physiological comfort, and the dolls are
really the first step toward
Replacement?
What the hell was Mulder talking about?
Knowing
it was an even worse idea than watching his lips, she walked over to Mulder,
leaning both hands on his desk and looking at him with an unwavering stare. What
was she doing? Flirting?
Her
seductive voice took even her by surprise.
"Mulder,"
she surmised, grabbing his tie with a free hand and pulling him closer to her,
"if you really feel that way about women, then you better enjoy your rubber
doll and her lei. Because it's the only one you are going to get."
Punctuating
her words with a kiss on his forehead, she stepped back, laughing at the shocked
expression on his
Mayflower
Restaurant
Washington,
D.C.
1:32
pm, Wednesday
The
tension was sexual, he decided. Tantalizingly sexual. He could almost taste it,
and, after Scully's little show in the office yesterday, decided this could be
interesting. Mulder considered himself to be a smart man, and he was well aware
of what a beautiful partner with whom he shared an office and a significant part
of his life. But this was new territory they were exploring, and, while he
couldn't say he minded, he was a little wary of the consequences.
If
this continued, however, consequences be damned. "This" was Scully.
The
glint in her eye. The extra swing in her hips as she walked out of the office
this morning. The way she seemed to savor each bite of lunch, letting it roll
around in her mouth, then licking her lips slowly as if to punctuate the action.
Mulder wasn't sure if she was still trying to get back at him for his remark
yesterday, or if there was something bigger going on, but he sure as hell was
going to find out.
All
he knew as that he was so aroused right now he felt as if he was about to burst.
"So,
Mulder, I know it's last minute and everything, but would you mind joining
me?" He looked at her quickly,
"Hello?
Earth to Mulder?" She laughed at him, reaching over to quickly wipe the
sauce from his sandwich off his
"It's
actually a masked theme party, Mulder. They sent me the tickets because I
donated money this year to the alumni association. Every year they come up with
some lame excuse for a theme and get together and drink. I think this year is
'An Evening in Tahiti.' Or something unbearably along those lines. I doubt I'll
know anyone there, but, if history repeats itself, these things always get
somewhat wild. And, I don't know. I thought it might be fun, something different
for us on a Friday."
It
was the hesitation in Scully's voice, underlined by a hint of hopefulness that
finally reaching his distracted thoughts.
While
her words aroused him, causing a flicker of warmth in his trousers, they also
reminded him of how much he cared for this woman. Whatever game Scully was
playing, he was in on it. If that meant accompanying Scully to a masked ball and
foregoing a night alone in his apartment, that was a sacrifice he was more than
willing to make.
"Scully,"
he said, leaning foreword in a perfect imitation of her actions yesterday,
running his finger lightly down the side of her face and stopping to rest in her
hair, "you don't even have to ask. I'd be honored."
Her
wide-eyed response and flushed cheeks were exactly the answers he wanted.
Scully's
apartment
8:43
pm, Friday
This
was ridiculous. Ludicrous. Absolutely insane. It was also incredibly arousing,
Scully decided, feeling the
But
something was off, she thought, examining her image in the mirror. Little black
dress. Check. Earrings and pearl necklace. Check. Black pumps. Check. Upswept
hair. Check. Feeling a little lightheaded, and definitely not like herself, she
slipped out of her panties, tossing them on the bed behind her and smiling
lightly at her boldness.
Now
she was ready for Mulder.
The
hours since their lunch together on Wednesday had been more than agonizing. They
had been arousing, frustrating, confusing. She tried to follow their same
routine, maintain the same light tone and professional demeanor. She had failed
miserably.
She
was having a hard time comprehending all of this. Ever since the moment with the
dolls ("rubber women," as Mulder liked to call them), she felt a
little off, not quite herself. She was more aware of Mulder than ever before.
His touch. His smell. His eyes. The way he watched her steadily when she spoke,
seeming to never want to take his gaze off her. And, now. Although she and
Mulder had gone out socially before, this was undisputedly a date, in the most
conventional sense of the term.
It
was definitely sexual.
As
if on cue, she heard Mulder's distinctive sharp rap at the front door. It was
time. Steadying herself, she opened the door. And burst out laughing.
Languishing against the doorway, a come-hither look unabashedly shining in his
eyes, was Mulder, dressed in a soft gray suit. And a tame tie.
But,
curled up next to him, was the rubber doll from Monday's fiasco. Mulder had
conceded to modesty, adding a
He
kissed her lightly on the cheek, grabbing her hand as they started down the
hallway. "Ah, Agent Scully. Remember our little talk about fetishes the
other day? Well, I've never really told you about my erotic dreams of a
threesome."
She
was all too aware of his presence as they walked down the hallway, breathing in
the scent of him with a soft sigh of pleasure. Dangerous footing be damned. Well
aware of all they were risking, of the effort they had put into developing their
professional partnership, of the fact that getting involved with your partner
simply wasn't a good idea, Scully resigned herself to the inevitable.
Despite
her bold comments about Mulder not getting a lay, except with Miss
Take-Me-Now-I'm-Always-Ready, she knew instinctively that everything was about
to change. She realized that she couldn't turn away from what was about to
happen, and, from the arousal evident in Mulder's furtive glances, he wasn't
going to either.
Peabody
Club
Downtown
Alexandria, Virignia
9:15
pm, Friday
"Well,
here we are," Mulder announced unnecessarily, turning the keys in the
ignition and feeling completely at a loss for words. He felt like a teenager.
The arousal was so thick in the air that he could almost taste it, and he found
himself avoiding Scully's gaze in a determined effort to make it through the
evening without throwing her in the backseat and settling this once and for all.
Whatever game she was playing, Scully was good at it.
He
didn't think he had ever seen her so beautiful, the lights from the club casting
a dull glow inside the car,
He
imagined walking up slowly behind her to silently unclasp the necklace, letting
it fall to the ground as his hands roamed gently around the front of a dress
which was clearly designed with seduction in mind. Closing his eyes, he felt the
zipper in his hands, cold against his skin, and pulled down on it sharply,
hearing the dress hit the floor with a clunk along with Scully's moan of
approval.
The
slam of the car door caused him to jump forward, lying for a moment on the horn,
the sharp sound bringing a smile to Scully's lips as she walked over to his
door. Damn, but she was getting off on this. He could tell from her swagger
around the car, the way her eyes never blinked under his gaze, the fact that she
wasn't wearing any underwear. He knew that just by looking at her.
"The
party starts inside, Mulder, not in the car. Why don't you leave Miss Big
Breasts in the backseat and come join me?"
Knowing
that the party had started long before they even got to the car, Mulder grabbed
Scully's hand and headed toward the entrance.
"Mulder,
did you ever go to any fraternity parties while you were in school?" He
thought for a moment, willing his focus back on the social aspects of the
evening. "Well, while I wasn't always an introvert, I can say that the
beer-guzzling, aimless hook-ups, and pervasive male bonding were never really my
thing."
Staring
at her backside as they walked into the door, realizing with a pain of arousal
that she certainly wasn't wearing anything under that dress, he missed the first
glimpse of tonight's festivities. "Welcome to your missed college
experience, Mulder."
The
smoke hung thick around the room as the gathering of obviously intoxicated
thirty-somethings bounced around the club. He eyed the pig gracing the center of
the buffet table, the bright red apple in its mouth standing out against the
dimming lights. Half the room was engaged in what could kindly be called a conga
line, with the group scattered across the ballroom floor, running into chairs
and tables. A few others wore masks, giant concoctions with feathers sticking
out at strange angles. A large man with impossibly red cheeks wandered by,
strumming loudly on a ukulele and singing an unrecognizable tune off-key.
Scully
couldn't resist. "We have to bring in Miss Playmate-of-the-Month, Mulder.
She would blend right in." Meeting Scully's laugh, he matched it with one
of his own. "At least we don't have the most dismal social lives of anyone
in Washington," he muttered, grabbing her hand and forcing his attention
away from his painful arousal and toward the center of the fiasco.
Peabody
Club
10:32
pm, Friday
"Mulder,
you look..." She surveyed him closely, probably too closely, but the
obviously spiked punch was making her feel heady with what she could only
determine was extreme desire. She was drunk, and she knew it. But little did
Mulder know what he was getting into. While Scully prided herself on her
all-too-professional work persona, she knew what could be unleashed in her with
a little alcohol and some serious sexual tension.
Tonight
had been just what they needed. Time away from work, away from conspiracies and
aliens and generally life-threatening situations. It was time they needed
together. Only Scully had realized that she didn't want the night to end. Or at
least not the happiness she felt with Mulder. Funny, she never thought she would
be the one to break first.
"I
look like what, Scully?" Mulder was avoiding the alcohol based on his
designated driver status, but she
A
need to retain complete control, perhaps. An awareness of the uncertain
territory in which they were headed. The mask someone had snapped on Mulder's
head after he walked in was somewhat askew, and he had rolled up his
shirtsleeves in the increasing heat and close confines of the darkened ballroom.
Scully realized he had never looked more desirable.
She
pushed away her own mask and leaned closer in to his intense gaze. "Hot,
Mulder. You look incredibly hot,"
Ignoring
the questioning look in his eyes, she pulled herself onto his lap, pushing both
of them further into the darkness of the corner table. She wasn't surprised when
she felt him against her leg, hot and so unbearably hard. If Mulder wasn't
sufficiently aroused by this point, she would have been worried. Damn the
consequences. It was time to finish what they had started so long ago.
He
opened his mouth, she supposed in a valiant attempt to answer her question, and
she took the opportunity to trace her tongue lightly over his lips, tasting the
sweet combination of sweat and soda and something so deliciously Mulder. She was
rewarded by his low groan and the push of his legs up against her.
He
tasted good. Hesitating only a moment, she slipped her tongue inside his mouth
and flickered it lightly against his teeth. If you could taste arousal, this was
it. Unbearably hot, causing a rush of desire to go through her. God, she wanted
this man.
"Scully,"
he managed to whisper into her mouth, arching up against her and running his
fingers up through her hair. "I don't know that this is the time or the
place, and I don't know if you realize how..." She silenced his obligatory
protests with another flick of her tongue, reaching her hand down between them
to trace the outline of his warmth through his trousers.
This
was the perfect time and place, she decided. "Mulder, I don't think either
of us has the energy to get back to the car, and I would rather have you here
than throw you down in the middle of the dance floor."
Mulder
felt a sharp twinge at Scully's words, although he wasn't sure if it was her
words or her uncharacteristically deep voice that caught his attention. Taking a
quick glance around them, observing the remnants of the drunken party in the
distance, he met his partner's kiss with one of his own, pulling her head down
to his with a frustrated moan. She ran her fingers around his neck, pushing him
back against the wall as she shifted her weight slightly.
"This
is my show, Mulder. And you are all mine." Blinking twice, he let a smile
briefly cross his face. "You can have round one, Scully. But then it's my
turn."
Over
the low din of music and laughter, he heard his zipper give way under her nimble
fingers and, before he could react, felt her warm hand surround him, stroking up
and down the length of his cock. "How did I know you would feel so good,
Mulder?" She drew out his name with a long sigh.
Scully
deserved better than this, he thought somewhere in the dark recesses of what
part of his brain was still
God.
She
was on him, he was in her, sliding almost effortlessly deep within her warmth.
He was amazed at how wet she was, at how tight she was, at the way she looked
down at him with a mixture of delight and ownership and apprehension and
anticipation. "I didn't want to wait anymore," she managed to stutter.
"A benefit to not wearing anything under a dress." Mulder, for one,
couldn't manage an articulate thought. He couldn't think past where they were
joined, hot, wet and oh so incredibly sweet.
With
her dress bunched up between them, she began to move, slowly at first, as if
committing every touch, every
Who
was he kidding? He had always belonged to her.
She
gripped him with her thighs, and began to rock on his lap, eyes closed, holding
his shoulders. Her breasts were right in front of his face, so he licked slowly
at her nipple through the cold fabric with his tongue. She was riding him
silently, her hands moving to his neck.
Scully
explored him as she rode, slowing and touching his chest, moving gently down to
grasp him at the waist. She tugged at his tie, still impaled on his thick
erection, and kissed him, her tongue soft against his own. Their kissing was
gentle, and then she began to rock on him again as their mouths met again and
their tongues found each other's.
She
was sitting on his lap. She was sitting on his cock. Mulder tried to bring some
semblance of order to his
He
leaned back again, lifting his hips to drive deeper into Scully's welcoming
wetness. She bore down with her own hips, grinding herself down onto his penis,
taking every inch into her. This was not the time and place for slow,
exploratory lovemaking. That would be later. Mulder knew instinctively that
there would be much more of this to come.
Surprising
him, Scully found the floor with her feet, straddling Mulder as he leaned back
in the chair. She went down on him all the way, taking every inch of him into
her body. He opened his mouth to speak, to tell Scully to slow down, but could
only find the energy to groan softly.
She
was gently rocking again, safe in his arms and steady on his erection, and he
was holding her tight, moving his hips as best he could to her rhythm. Scully
was moving, moving in pleasure and rising ecstasy, now almost wantonly riding
his stiff cock, on the verge of her orgasm, her control lost. Whatever pretenses
or games they had been playing were long gone, buried underneath the incredible
sexual pleasure. Mulder was amazed, watching the Scully he thought he knew
disappear into this alluring, shockingly physical creature.
He
held her tight as she tensed, moved faster, teetered on the edge. She clung to
him and quivered, peaking, her body wracked with pleasure, as he held her tight
and felt her finally start to explode around his thick penis, hard for her, and
deep inside her. At last, she came with a silent shudder, a long exhalation of
breath into the darkness. Mulder joined her, unable to stop the rising waves of
climax, his mouth in her hair, muffling his cries of pleasure.
He
struggled to catch his breath, an awareness coming over him of their location
and precarious position. Scully, too, was breathing hard, still balanced on his
lap. It was perfect. He said so, whispering into her ear with a strange voice
that sounded so unlike his own.
She
giggled. "Ah, Mulder, you are just lucky I waited until we got to the
party. I was ready to fulfill your dreams of a threesome in the hallway at my
place." He stared at her in amazement, pondering all the new and delicious
things there were to learn about this woman. Touching him lightly on the nose,
she kissed his lips with a devilish smile. "But, Mulder. I never had a
chance to tell you about my own little fetish." Staring at Scully, his
wantonly sexual partner and newly discovered exhibitionist, he could only laugh.
In
response to the Sept/Oct challenge at Whispers of X.
Challenge items: A lei, a ukulele, a roasted pig with an apple in its mouth, a FBI Ball or party that all characters must attend, a rubber blowup doll to be taken as a date by the characters to the party, masks to be worn at the party, spiked punch