From: char@chaffin.com   
      
   A QUESTION OF CHOICE   
   by Char Chaffin   
   MSR, NC-17   
   Disclaimer:  Clones on Loan   
      
   Spoilers:  Season Seven, set during and after "All Things"   
      
   Author's Note:  It occurred to me that in many "All Things" post-   
   eps, we see Scully awakening that night, making that first-time love   
   with Mulder, then sometimes staying and other times leaving.  I   
   wanted to explore her mindset, and the fight I think she must have   
   had within herself once the reality of loving Mulder really did set   
   in.  I wanted her to make a choice.   
      
   This story was started as a DP penance fic, and finished as a result   
   of threats against my person, if I didn't finish it.    Thanks a   
   lot, youse guys (they know who they are!)   
      
      
   Summary:  'My choice.  Not Dana Scully's, not exactly...'   
      
      
   "A Question of Choice"   
      
      
      
   I never asked him if he wanted this.  I never considered he might   
   not.  It never crossed my mind.   
      
   I didn't broach the subject over lunch, or dinner; didn't put out   
   feelers, didn't try and read him, the way I know he has been able to   
   read me.  I didn't fidget in his presence, respond to his verbal (and   
   usual) innuendo; I didn't trick him.  I didn't exactly force him...   
      
   But neither did I give him a choice.   
      
   I simply walked into his bedroom, late at night when it was almost   
   too dark to see much in his bed other than the blurred outline of   
   him, long and lanky under the blankets.  I stood at the window and   
   stared out into the clouds that swirled in the windy sky, obscuring   
   the moon.  Thanks to a softly dim night light in the bathroom, I   
   could see the reflection of his bed in the glass, a dark shape behind   
   me.  I could hear his even breathing, could smell the scent of him,   
   here in his room.  I turned away from the window, kicking off my   
   shoes, my fingers making their way to my blazer.  I unbuttoned, and I   
   unzipped.  I unclasped and I unsnapped... until every bit of cotton,   
   wool and silk had left my body and I was clothed only in my own skin   
   and a few nervous goose bumps.   
      
   I walked on silent feet to the edge of the bed; the trek of perhaps   
   five feet had never felt more like miles, than at that moment.  As my   
   eyes adjusted better to the darkness, I saw the thatch of dark and   
   unruly hair on the white pillow, the tanned length of arm flung over   
   his head.  I could almost see the crescent of lashes that lay high on   
   his cheek, knew they caressed subtle smudges of exhaustion, under his   
   eyes.  If I reached out a hand, I'd feel the roughness of a day or   
   more growth of beard on his jaw, not exactly soft and not quite   
   bristly.   
      
   A feast for me, laid out in that warm bed.  A man I knew I adored,   
   knew I wanted above all others... and completely unaware that I stood   
   over him, drinking him in like life-giving water from a desert oasis.   
      
   My oasis... and I needed that long, deep drink.   
      
   I never said a word.  I never made one single sound... I merely   
   pulled back the covers and slipped in, next to him, my body coming up   
   against his side and my legs sliding along his hair-roughened thigh.   
   He murmured a little, stretched a bit, and I took advantage of the   
   momentary movement and let myself snuggle closer. When his face   
   turned toward me, eyes still closed, breathing still even... I   
   touched my lips to his cheek, the corner of his mouth; finally, his   
   lips.   
      
   It was the first time in my life I had kissed a sleeping man.   
      
   I let my mouth move over his, knowing I wasn't really being fair;   
   not caring whether or not I was.  This time it was all for me.  I   
   know it sounded selfish, but I could no more stop myself, than fly   
   out the window into the wind.  I kissed him, not knowing for sure if   
   he wanted it, or would have accepted me under normal circumstances.   
   I took full advantage of an unconscious man.  In that instant,   
   feeling his lips warm and soft under mine, I knew I'd do the same   
   thing, over and over again.  I wouldn't change my approach.   
      
   When he sighed against my mouth, opened his lips, kissed me back,   
   wound those long arms around me, pulled my bare body closer, moving   
   on his side to accommodate a full press of skin... somehow I  wasn't   
   a bit surprised at the rough whisper that came from him, that echoed   
   into my throat.   
      
   "What took you so long, Scully?"   
      
   I pulled my mouth from his, smothered an embarrassed huff into his   
   neck.  Damn him. He'd known all along. How, I'll never know, because   
   I could have sworn he'd been in total REM zone.  But he knew.   
      
   "How'd you..." I couldn't finish the sentence, and besides, my face   
   was still buried in his neck.   
      
   I felt his fingers drift over my back, up and down soothingly,   
   before he replied, "I just knew.  Maybe because I wanted it so badly.   
   I've always wanted it, Scully... but it had to be your decision.   
   Your choice.  All this time, I've been hoping you were ready to open   
   and accept.  Not just me as your friend, someone you love - but me as   
   the man you're in love with.  There's a big difference.  I could have   
   waited forever, but I'm really glad I didn't have to."   
      
   "I'm not giving you much of an opportunity to figure out if this is   
   what you truly want, Mulder -"   
      
   His interruption was gentle and loving, as he maneuvered me beneath   
   him.  "Of course I want it.  I just told you I did.  I love the way   
   you took charge, coming in here, taking all your clothes off in such   
   a determined manner.  Oh, yeah," he chuckled at my gasp of dismay, "I   
   saw the whole thing.  You knocked me over, Scully. It was all I could   
   do to lie here and wait for you."   
      
   He didn't even try to dodge the fist I pounded on his shoulder.   
   "Mulder, you -"   
      
   I never got a chance to finish my indignant protest, because I was   
   being kissed, hard and deep and with so much passion my very skin was   
   dissolving.  Those full lips of his had been born with the ability to   
   press and caress, nibble and plunder... and I was reaping it all.   
   His tongue was so hot, his mouth so ardent.  His kiss was beyond   
   amazing... and I had never in my life been kissed with so much   
   intensity, so much desire, such passion.   
      
   In that moment I was very, very glad I hadn't given either of us a   
   choice, to perhaps retreat.  In the next minutes, hours, as he'd   
   touch me in all my most needy places; as he'd let those talented lips   
   of his slide down, over my aching flesh, I knew I would refuse to   
   feel one more instant of worry... that I'd taken the decision from   
   him.  How could I have gone this many years without knowing what   
   Mulder's love would feel like, would do to me?   
      
   How much time I'd wasted.  And how sure I was, that from this moment   
   on, I'd never waste another chance to slip into his bed, press up   
   against his hard, warm body... reap the amazing benefits of his   
   unconditional love.   
      
   Then what small amount of brain I had remaining simply shut down, as   
   Mulder curved his hands under my shoulder blades and pulled me up and   
   into his chest; as the feel of his skin against mine drove sanity and   
   reason out the door... as he prepared to exercise his own choices,   
   his own advantage.   
      
   All I could do was grip his shoulders, and pray this night would   
   never end.   
      
   ******************   
      
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)