Silk by Raine

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Silk by Raine

Dana sat on her couch in near-complete darkness. The flickering glow of the television was the only light source; even the street lamps outside weren't visible through the heavy curtains she had drawn closed. She sat; jeans-clad legs propped up on her coffee table, watching television. The redhead watched the flickering screen with concentration, worry lines appearing on her face as the throbbing soundtrack music of the movie kicked in.

She spoke; not realizing it was aloud until she heard herself. When she did, she was too stunned to care. "Dear God…what is he doing to that poor…how can she…now that has to hurt." She should know, after all. She hadn't spent four years in medical school not to be able to recognize the anatomically impossible. Scully made a soft sound of disgust in the back of her throat when she saw the bionic couple flip in synchrony. This time she didn't care that she spoke aloud. She shook the spoon she held in her hand, swallowing a spoonful of ice cream before speaking. "Now there is just no way that they could do that in an airplane, there's no room, and besides…" She sat back as they assumed yet another position, her brow even more furrowed than before.

Scully had been watching this particular channel since she received it with her cable installation. Mulder had made fun of her, saying she still lived in the dark ages, she couldn't even watch her own local channels clearly, for God's sake. She'd remained unconvinced until he had pointed out that she could watch both CNN and C-Span. Live. She'd called the next day. Mulder had just rolled his eyes when she told him why she'd decided to get it. Just like her, he'd probably thought, boring Scully.

Well, she wasn't watching C-Span now. Dana hadn't even been aware this channel came with the basic cable package. Checking out the channels for the first time, she found it. Not that it was hard to miss, with all the moaning and writhing. She left it on for a moment, pondering whether or not to call the cable company when…that movie had come on. The one with the man in the TV series Highlander. Only he hadn't been wearing any clothes after the first ten minutes. Neither had any of the other several people in the movie.

She told herself that she was just curious. Doing research, albeit of an unconventional sort. She mused humorously to herself supposed to herself that this didn't exactly count as 'field research', but perhaps as 'observational'. She wanted to understand the motivation for watching these blatantly unrealistic sexual features. Thinking of Mulder's videos, she sat down to watch. Maybe this would give her some sort of insight into what went on in her partner's head. But the truth was, she told herself, that curiosity didn't cause you to watch nearly identical pornographic movies night after night. You watched them to fill a need.

Why did *he* watch, then? She kept asking herself that question. Mulder was an attractive guy. He could be with any number of women. He certainly wasn't saving himself for a rainy day. After all, he'd had sex with...what's her face. And 'what's her face' could apply to any of several women. Was he so highly sexed that he needed to watch porn? Apparently. She shook her head. Her *partner's* sex life was none of her business. Although work occasionally blended into something like friendship, it never went any further. And that was as it should be. Still, she couldn't help being curious...

On screen, a woman with gravity-defying breasts, a baby face, and long blond hair was talking into her phone to her boyfriend. As she talked, she twisted slowly back and forth, playing with the hem of her already short red skirt, revealing glimpses of white stocking and lace garter. She wore impossibly high heels. Dana winced in sympathy, imagining that actress's pain after twenty takes of the scene. However, after looking at the background that was *supposed* to be a high-rise condo, but only featured beige walls, a table, couch and phone, she revised her opinion. The movie was too low budget to afford to waste that much film.

The woman moved to the couch. She lounged on the sofa with her legs propped up on the opposite arm to her head, crossed her legs to best advantage, and giggled into the phone. The screen flashed back and forth to the actor playing her boyfriend. He was sitting behind a desk with his tie off. He hed a head of thick, unruly brown hair, and had rolled his sleeves up on his slim yet muscular forearms. The window behind him showed the glittering night lights of some downtown. Scully noted all of these details with a trained observer's eye, but what made her suddenly suck wind was the man's striking resemblance to Fox Mulder.

Her stomach plummeted in shock as she peered at the screen, noting the similarities and mentally comparing them one by one to the internal image she had of her partner. She let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding when she realized it wasn't him. An eerie resemblance, though. She smiled. What would she have done if it had been him? That might explain his fascination with porn, but logic would conclude that experience would take the sexual thrill out of watching. A moot point anyway.

Her brain again registered events on the screen. The blonde was steadily losing clothes, and Mul...the man was murmuring dirty suggestions into her ear via phone. She moaned and started playing with her huge, newly freed breasts. Scully snorted in disgust at her obvious boob job and clicked off the television decisively.

She stretched. Dana felt her cramped upper back muscles give, releasing the tension she had collected between her shoulder blades. She mused that it was high time she turned off the television. Ridiculous, thinking that Mulder had ever been in that kind of a movie. So why couldn't she get the image out of her mind? She felt itchy, restless. Her pantyhose suddenly felt confining and hot. Dana knew exactly why she felt this way, and was disturbed by the implications. Seeing her partner's face in that kind of context had excited her. Profoundly.

Well, it was good to know she was still capable of feeling aroused, even if there was no outlet for her frustration. No human outlet, anyway. Mulder was off limits because and wouldn't be interested anyway. The fact that she herself was intrigued was an issue she shelved for another time. A better, safer time. 'Like never', she thought to herself wryly. It *had* been a long time, and it would most likely be an even longer time before this dry spell was over. In their line of work, one didn't meet many handsome, single men. At least, ones that weren't under suspicion of some gruesome crime. Or involved in an international conspiracy. Or your partner.

She yawned softly, not feeling the least bit tired, only oxygen deprived. Tired or not, she should go to bed. Special Agent Scully still had to arrive at work in the morning. Professional, good, respectable, competent Agent Scully. If only she felt tired. Maybe a hot bath would help her doze off.

The warm scented bubble bath she soaked in only served to make her more restless. She was uncomfortable in her own skin, as if she had an itch to scratch, and it was all over, yet just out of reach. Untouchable. Dana sighed as she dried herself off with a large fluffy bath towel. The soft peach towel felt like low-grade sandpaper against her already oversensitive nipples, causing her to gasp quietly. She should have taken a shower. A cold shower.

As she drained the water from the tub, she hung up the damp towel. That done, she padded naked down the short hellway to her bedroom. At her dresser, Dana pulled out a short silk nightgown. Even if there was no one to appreciate it, it made her feel desirable. Wicked, in a way. Certainly different from the woman in well-tailored pantsuits who walked into the Hoover building every morning. Or the woman who sat next to Fox Mulder every day in the basement. *That* woman would definitely not approve. The spaghetti straps settled lightly on her shoulders as the creme gossamer fell softly onto her curves. She turned to look at herself in the mirror behind her bedroom door, running her hands over the smooth fabric, lingering on her hardened nipples. Dana sighed in frustration and climbed into bed.

His hands were octopus tentacles, everywhere. On her ass, grabbing one cheek firmly, pressing on her taut stomach as she arched her back...moving to her breasts, traveling downward. She kept her eyes closed, waiting. Her body pulsed like an overstretched guitar string. If she let go, she might break...

The phone beside Scully's bed rang sharply, interrupting the vivid mental images she was caught up in. She looked at the clock in a panic. Two in the morning. Mulder. Shit. She picked up the cordless receiver, breathless. "Hello?"

"Scully? Were you sleeping?"

"Um, no, Mulder. What's wrong?"

"I'm alright, Scully. Are you ok? You sound strange. Is this a bad time?" The truth was he'd just woken from the second gut-wrenching nightmare that night. Nightmares which starred Dana Scully. Sometimes he reflected that he would make a killing as a horror writer.

Scully sighed. A bad time. What did that mean, exactly? "No...I'm ok...why did you call? Why aren't you asleep?"

He laughed softly, settling back into his couch, staring at the flickering images on the TV. Now that he heard her voice, his residual worry disappeared. "I could ask the same of you, Agent Scully. Insomnia, I guess. Et tu?"

The teasing gravel of his voice filtered into her ear like warm butter. She struggled to bring her breathing under control. Failed. "Um, yeah, I guess. Do you...do you ever have nights where you just can't stop thinking? No matter how hard you try?"

Mulder lifted his eyebrows in surprise. Scully so rarely let him see any vulnerable part of her, no matter how minor, that any personal relevation was noteworthy. He tried to make sense of it. She sounded winded, wasn't sleeping, was presumably alone, couldn't shut down... "Yeah, I do. All the time, in fact." His words were flat, bland even, but there was a knowing tone to his voice. She might not have picked up on it if she hadn't been imagining him... She was as ashamed as she was turned on. Part of her wanted him to call her on it. The idea of humiliation suddenly seemed incredibly erotic.

"Wh..what do you think about?"

"It depends. Sometimes I think about my sister, sometimes I think about my life. Sometimes I think about you." Mulder shocked himself with the words. He was divided between wanting her to follow up on it, and being scared to death she would. It could mean a lot of things, he told himself. It doesn't have to be sexual. Repeating this didn't help his anxiety.

Her voice went down half an octave until she practically purred into the phone at him. Her hands drifted down her thighs, clutching the hem of her nightgown. "You think about *me*, Mulder?"

He swallowed. "Sometimes."

"What do you think about, when you think about me?"

"It depends." Maybe the outfit she was wearing did, anyway, so it wasn't a complete lie.

"Mulder Mulder Mulder." Her husky voice swam over his name. "It depends. Well, I think about you too, sometimes. In fact, I was thinking about you tonight, just before you called." She was stunned at her own daring at the same time she was uncaring of the consequences. She held her breath, stifling sounds of arousal as her hands began to roam again. The game was on.

He stopped for a moment, shocked. Had she just...moaned? It was muffled, as if into a pillow. He watched his boxers grow in amazement.

"Dana?"

"Ummhmm, what?"

"What are you wearing?"

Her hands paused momentarily in their journey over her body. "A nightgown."

"Describe it." His voice was terse and would brook no argument. Scully wasn't about to debate.

"It's creme colored." "What fabric?" Scully smiled at the rapid-fire questions. True Mulder style, interrogate until you have the answers you want.

"Its silk, has spaghetti straps, and goes to mid-thigh."

Mulder drew in breath. The picture he had in his head was enough to drive him insane. Dana Scully lying in bed wearing lingerie. Dana thinking about him. God. "Dana, what were you thinking about when you...thought about me earlier?"

Dana took a deep breath and stepped over the line. Her desire-lowered voice sent shocks straight to his aching groin.

"I was thinking about you, touching me."

Mulder couldn't believe what he was hearing. He hadn't for a moment actually thought she would do it. They'd come close before, but one or the other of them always backed away at the last moment.

"Do you *want* me to touch you, Dana?"

His voice in her ear made it real. One hand dipped into the wet, swollen folds between her legs. She moaned. "God. Yes I do."

Mulder took a deep, stabilizing breath. "Okay, Dana, you can have what you want, but you have to play by my rules, okay?"

"Yes, I'll do anything."

He swallowed. *Anything*? "That's a good start. The first thing I want you to do is to stop touching yourself. You are, aren't you?"

She gasped raggedly as she removed her hands from her between her legs.

Mulder waited until her breathing had quieted, and said, "Good. Now I'm going to talk to you, and as I do, You can touch yourself again. Okay?"

"Yes."

"I'm going to tell you a story. It's one I thought of myself. It's about you and I."

"Mmhmm."

Mulder gathered his breath and began his favorite fantasy. "I'm at work, looking at a computer file. I'm wearing glasses and a gray suit."

"Probably some awful tie, too," she whispered jokingly.

"Dana, do you want me to tell you the story?"

Quietly, "Yes."

"Then no editorial please. As I was saying, I'm at work. It's late, around eight-thirty, and you've already gone. The building is empty. You're home and realize you have forgotten a file you needed to look at for a case we're working on. Thinking I might be still in the office, you call me on my cell phone. I offer to bring the file to you and you accept, offering to buy me lunch the next day in return for the drive. Are you listening?"

Scully's hands grasped her nipples, fingers scissoring her nipples roughly. She moved her nails over her body softly, down her stomach, then up her thighs.

"Yes," she said softly. It was almost a whimper.

"I drive to your apartment. By now its pretty late. I park outside. I can see glimpses of you through the window of your apartment. You're wearing a robe. Your hair is up, but messy, as if you just got out of a bath." Scully was hypnotized by his smooth voice. She laid back, chest heaving, moving her hand into her wet center. She moaned involuntarily. Mulder's voice chided her softly.

"Now, Dana, how am I supposed to tell you the story if you keep doing that? To continue, I see you through the window. You buzz me into the building and I go to your door, where you let me in. The robe you're wearing is green silk, and as you turn away from the door I can see the outline of your ass. You aren't wearing anything underneath, and the thought turns me on unbelievably. I want to grab you and tear off your robe, but I restrain myself, knowing you wouldn't understand. You don't have any idea what you're doing to me, completely innocent."

Mulder ignored his raging hard-on, knowing he would need all of his concentration for the story. He wanted to concentrate on her reactions. he paused briefly before continuing again.

"I can see small pieces of red hair have fallen onto the back of your neck and around your face, highlighting your creamy skin. You ask me for the file, and I give it to you. You move over to the coffee table and set it down. As you bend over, I can see your breasts as the silk gapes. You glance up and catch me staring at you. A flush begins to travel up your chest to your face and neck. You seem embarrassed, but also turned on. Your hard nipples strain through the fabric. You meet my gaze and manage to retain some of your composure, and ask if I want something to drink. I say yes and you walk to the kitchen. I follow you. You pour us two glasses of tea. As you turn around from the refrigerator, I am right in front of you, in your personal space. You're startled and almost drop the glass of tea you just poured. Some of the liquid sloshes out of the glass and splashes onto you. The liquid hits your neck and wets part of your robe. Droplets run down your neck."

"Dana, are you still listening?"

There was a pause. Finally, whispered, "Go on, please."

Mulder continued.

"Hypnotized, I reach out and catch one of the drops just as it plunges into the deep V of your robe between your breasts. You make a small noise. I lick the droplet off my hand, staring at you. Our eyes lock, and you can feel the heavy, charged air between us. We don't need to speak. I take an ice cube from my glass of tea. I touch the edge of the ice to your neck, watching the water flow down your arched neck. You shiver. In response, I move closer to you. One of my legs is inside yours, gaping the bottom of your robe slightly. You lean against the refrigerator, closing your eyes halfway as I press the ice cube to one of your nipples through the fabric. You groan up into my ear, making me instantly hard. I move my hand down into your robe. My hand moves lightly onto same breast, cupping, then teasing the nipple. I move the cube onto the other nipple, again through the fabric. You begin to moan in earnest now, and in response, I push your robe open gently. I can see you there, naked, against the refrigerator. Only a thin layer of silk stands between you and the cool door. You're beautiful, and this fuels my passion. You're looking into my eyes with desire, and I'm stunned that we haven't done this before now. All the times I have fantasized, wondered what you would do, thought about this, crystallize for me. I need to possess you totally. I kiss you, softly at first, holding the back of your head to taste you deeply. "

Mulder paused. He could hear movement and soft moaning through the line. He mustered up self-control. He needed to continue.

"I start by taking my time, then as you respond, more urgently. You begin to explore my body with your hands, untucking the white shirt I am wearing. You start to run your hands underneath to my chest, but stop as I move down your body, planting kisses. I kiss you between your breasts, down your stomach. I can feel your muscles tremble and flutter beneath my lips. I move to my knees and run my hands lightly up your legs, your calve muscles, the back of your thighs, the crack of your ass. I grab your cheeks gently as I kiss your pubic hair. I use my tongue to gently open your lips. You taste sweet, as I thought you would. I begin to softly rotate your clit, causing you to moan from deep in your throat. I glance upward. Your eyes are closed, your head is leaning back on the refrigerator, and your hands move to wrap themselves in my hair. I pull back slightly and take the ice cube from the counter where I left it. I push the cube gently against your clit, and you almost scream as I suck the moisture off, grazing my teeth slightly against it in the process. I hold your smooth ass firmly as I tongue you in earnest, your hips thrust forward in my face. I can sense you are close. I place one finger inside you, then two as you come, screaming my name. I can feel your muscles contract strongly against my fingers, and this excites me unbearably. I know, however, that my pleasure will wait for later. I rise to my feet, and take you in my arms. We stand there, our arms around each other, for a long time." Mulder stopped, suddenly hesitant.

"Dana?"

"Yes. Mulder?"

"Did you... like that?"

She emitted a soft chuckle. "You mean, you couldn't tell?"

"I...just wanted to be sure. How are you doing?"

Scully paused, considering. "Better, actually. You seem to have solved my problem."

"Good," he said softly. "Get some sleep, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah, Mulder. Tomorrow."

Continue to "Lace"