Black Out by Harrison Coin

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Black Out by Harrison Coin

Mulder rubbed the bridge of his nose, feeling a little drill bit busily working its way through his left temple. They had been at this paperwork for four hours. Case reports, budgets, expense reports, and everyone's favorite nightmare, the effectiveness report, where agents justified what they did to the panel of retarded monkeys that chose the assignments to be cut out.

Scully wasn't any better off, he thought. He didn't know, he had avoided looking at her, because dealing with paperwork while aroused was a real problem. He was attracted to her, he admitted it, but he didn't want to do anything and then find out the reason he wanted her was because he couldn't have her. That wasn't worth wrecking a friendship for.

Stay off it, Mulder. And don't let Dana, DAMMIT, I mean Scully get to you. She probably has her own life, and doesn't need you in it.

Mulder went back to the paperwork of the sicko incest family, eyes firmly down, neck screaming.

My God, he's beautiful, Scully thought. And he must be in pain, hunching over the papers like that. She wanted to relax him, help him in ANY way she could...

Oh, Jesus, this was the last thing she needed. Luckily he was so intent on his paperwork that he couldn't see her staring at him every now and then, at the lean muscled body, at the handsome face, at the unruly hair that was even now shagging into his eyes. Like he even knows I exist as a woman, she thought. Except for that disturbing near-tryst under the power of pheromones that Fox...MULDER saved her from a few years ago, and Van Bluhnt, her sex life had been nonexistent. She knew how Mulder dealt with it, but he was generally a loner in the first place.

But she managed to keep a tight rein on her emotions. Never mind that the feelings were like a blasting cap waiting for the right amount of pressure. As long as she and Mulder managed to stay friendly but without intimate contact, they'd be fine.

The worst black out in the history of the District of Columbia happened at 9:00 pm, just after dark. The FBI building is designed to lock down if power is shut off without proper access. So the basement, not exactly safe with the lights on, became a trap for Special Agents Fox Mulder and Dana Scully, in the darkness.

"Great." Mulder muttered as the lights went off. "Scully, got a flashlight?"

He heard a click. And another click. And a third just for kicks, as they both realized the flashlight hadn't been recharged.

Mulder went through his desk, feeling around. Narrowly avoiding skewering his hand on a compass point, he found his Mini Maglite...

....which he had forgotten to put batteries in. He had left the high-power flash he normally brought on cases at home, plugged into the wall.

"Mulder, I take it you don't have a light."

"Nope. You have your lighter?"

"I'm quitting."

"Wonderful." Trapped. In pitch blackness. With Scully. Oh, life was just great.

He wondered what Scully was thinking. And then he heard her chair creak as she got up.

Mulder also stood up and put his hand out. Maybe he could help. After all, they couldn't see each other, it wasn't like she'd see him get up just by touching her. Maybe this was a blessing in disguise.

Scully was feeling around, trying not to bang her shins on the chairs in front of Mulder's desk, when she closed her hand on a belt buckle.

HIS belt buckle, warm from his body.

Arousal flooded in, and she managed to contain a whimper of desire. She straightened up, and Mulder's outstretched arm pressed into her breast. Her hand was still on his belt buckle, and it wandered downward, finding Mulder's zipper and the heavy gauge tube that was trying to force its way through his pants. He groaned, slightly, and his hand moved to the cleft between her breasts, starting to undo buttons on her blouse.

She slid her suit jacket off her shoulders, and the blouse soon followed, the rustle of silk coverd by small cries as Mulder began caressing Scully's breasts, brushing the nipples ever so lightly. His hand closed on the clasp up front, and the bra fell away.

Scully, not being one for subtlety when aroused, simply ripped Mulder's shirt off. The clatter of buttons landing on the concrete floor was followed by a slight moan from them both as they settled down onto the concrete. Scully undid the blet buckle, and the zippe rasped, and Mulder was completely nude. A few rasps and yanks later, so was Scully.

He slid slowly down her body, tasting her, running over her as if with a velvet cloth. He nipped at her inner thighs, and tongued around her clit, getting close but never quite touching it...and then he did, and her scream echoed up the ventilation system.

Mulder kept licking, sliding around the lips, teasing her slightly, driving her insane with little kisses. Her cries trailed off to moans, and Mulder put a finger on the expnase between vagina and anus and then went in for the kill. Instead of crying out, her body tightened and she held her breath. Mulder began stroking her clit, as she pulled him up, and ran her fingers through his chest hair before moving down and taking his manhood in her mouth.

Mulder grunted with pleasure, and narrowly managed to avoid exploding right there. She sucked only lightly, sensing that he was close. She kept her efforts focused on the head, licking it, fingering it, keeping him on the edge, and maybe pushing him back a little, to make the inevitable last longer.

It didn't. With a grunt, he pulled her up and flipped her over, hr back against the smooth concrete floor. Not wasting any time, he thrust in, and found himself surrounding by a tight warm wetness. He began pumping, moving slowlyat first and then picking up steam as Scully reacted under him. He hadn't been stroking her clit idly, he had been setting her up for another orgasm, and it happened, she cried out again and Mulder cried with her, and they slumped, spent, to the floor.

The lights came on fifteen minutes later. They looked at each other in their nakedness for a while, and then put their clothes back on.

"Zip me up, would you?"

Mulder tugged at the zipper, but it wouldn't budge. It was stuck in the cloth.

"Uhhh, Scully?"

"Yes?"

"How much do I owe you for the skirt?"

"Oh, no." Scully let the skirt drop, revealing her gold silk panties.

"I have a pair of jogging shorts you can borrow..." Mulder handed them to her, and caught her hand, looking deeply into her eyes. "Just be sure to bring them back." he whispered.

Scully smiled as she slipped on the shorts. She was gong to do just that. Tonight.

END

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