From: theidiosyncraticstanwyck@yahoo.com   
      
   Title: Of Elevators and Onions (2/2)   
   Author: the idiosyncratic stanwyck   
   Email: theidiosyncraticstanwyck@yahoo.com   
   MSR, Rated R   
   Please see Part 1 for all other info.   
   Author's mini-not: Apologies for the terrible formatting in Part 1.   
   I think it's an email problem, and am trying to fix it. Sorry in   
   advance if this comes out the same way. Any help would be welcome.   
      
   Of Elevators and Onions (2/2)   
      
   The bored, casual tone of her voice shocked her almost as   
   much as the words flying out of her mouth - still, not as   
   much as they shocked him, apparently.   
      
   "Jesus, Scully!" Mulder exclaimed. "You can't just - just   
   say something like that, especially when we're in a   
   confined space."   
      
   He defensively crossed his arms over his chest, but   
   could do nothing to hide the obvious effect of her words on   
   his anatomy. He pouted sulkily, looking as if she'd just   
   attacked him - which in a way she had, Scully supposed.   
   With his drooping mouth, stiffly crossed arms, and impudent   
   erection, the picture he presented was actually quite   
   ridiculous - and alarmingly endearing. She smothered a   
   smile behind her palm.   
      
   "You're my partner," he continued indignantly. He turned as   
   if to pace and was met with the sealed elevator doors.   
      
   Scully tucked her knees under her chin and regarded his   
   tense back. "Of course I am," she said softly, relenting   
   momentarily. "But I'm also a normal human female, Mulder,   
   not an android." Her tone metamorphosed, lost its sweetness   
   and turned feline. "So, was that a no?"   
      
   Mulder pivoted slowly to face her. His trousers looked   
   tighter than they had a moment ago. His eyes locked on hers   
   with frightening intensity. "Scully," he said, voice very   
   low, "you haven't ever had sex in an elevator."   
      
   Almost unconsciously she rose to her knees. "Want me to   
   prove it?" she countered. Her pulse was skittering rapidly.   
   The rational part of her wanted to back down, admit that   
   Mulder was right - but that was so predictable, so boring,   
   and she had her pride, damn it. His steady gaze was making   
   her much more uncomfortable than his hard-on, which, now   
   that she thought about it, was just at eye level. She   
   suddenly became aware of the ticking of her watch.   
      
   Mulder's throat bobbed as he swallowed with difficulty. His   
   focus slid from the crown of her head to her lipsticked   
   mouth. Her tongue flicked out to moisten her suddenly dry   
   lips, and his hips thrust forward involuntarily. They both   
   gasped and Scully shrank back against the wall.   
      
   Mulder had closed his eyes. His skin was tinted rose with   
   embarrassment and he was breathing rapidly. "I don't   
   suppose it's much of a secret that that's the most tempting   
   offer I've heard in a long time," he said. "A very long   
   time. But you don't have to prove anything to me, Scully. I   
   concede. You've made your point. There's a lot about you I   
   don't know."   
      
   Scully bit her lip. "I lied," she whispered. "I just - I   
   was trying to make a point."   
      
   Mulder blew out a long breath and pursed his lips. He   
   chuckled. "Well, point taken." The tension defused, he   
   slumped down on the elevator floor beside her, arms and   
   legs akimbo. His knee brushed the outside of her thigh.   
      
   "Is it, though?" She sighed. "Usually I'm content to be   
   Agent Scully, the good little soldier. But I don't want   
   people to think that's all there is to me. Especially you,   
   Mulder." Oddly, tears pricked at her eyes, and she tried to   
   analyze what she was feeling. She was sincerely contrite -   
   and, just maybe, a bit disappointed?   
      
   His warm hand curved around her wrist where it rested on   
   her knee. "Oh, Scully. You're just - layers upon layers.   
   Every time I peel one back, I discover a dozen underneath -   
   similar, on the surface, but actually a previously unknown   
   entity, uncharted territory. Like an onion."   
      
   She snorted. It was a sweet sentiment, but so Mulder. "An   
   onion?"   
      
   "I have the soul of a poet."   
      
   A few moments passed in silence. Scully closed her eyes.   
   Mulder's hand was warm and heavy on her knee.   
      
   "Scully," he said suddenly, "is this about that Iron Maiden   
   remark?"   
      
   Internally she cringed. Her eyes blinked open to find him   
   regarding her intently, his face too close to hers.   
      
   "It is," he said. The light bulb in his brain had blinked   
   on.   
      
   "Kind of," she admitted, unaccountably ashamed.   
      
   "Oh, Scully." He rubbed her knee in little soothing   
   motions. "It was a stupid joke. You're always so unmoved by   
   my sarcasm - I guess I think nothing can ever get under   
   your skin."   
      
   She nodded, fixated on his hand where it touched her.   
   "That's the image I strive to project." She sought his   
   eyes. "And it's true, for the most part. But you, Mulder,   
   you get under my skin."   
      
   "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"   
      
   Her hand covered his, thumb absently tracing a vein. "I -   
   think it's a good thing. Today." Was that really her voice,   
   sultry and teasing? Was that her palm pressing against her   
   partner's chest, feeling rumpled cotton stretched over warm   
   muscle? She watched her fingers slowly follow the row of   
   buttons downward, creeping toward the point where they   
   disappeared inside his grey wool trousers. He was breathing   
   shallowly, rapidly; so, she realized, was she. "Right now,   
   inside this elevator - it's a very good thing, Mulder."   
      
   One tapered finger slipped between two buttons and   
   scratched against his stomach. Mulder arched his back and   
   hissed. One of his hands clutched her knee while the other   
   pressed flat against the floor.   
      
   "Mulder," she found herself sighing, her voice a sing-song   
   replay of fifteen minutes earlier, "ever wanted to do it in   
   an elevator?"   
      
   He groaned and grabbed her hand, looking tortured. "Scully   
   - I dimly remember having this conversation -"   
      
   She was insane, that was all there was to it; but she   
   continued, feeling strangely determined. "Not to prove   
   anything, Mulder. Just - because." Her free hand began to   
   work the cool leather of his belt and he shifted   
   restlessly.   
      
   She felt him trembling, but he released her hand; it went   
   immediately to his zipper and began to draw it down. "Lie   
   back - I'll do all the work." She moved between his legs   
   and leaned forward, hair fanning against her cheeks. She   
   grinned. "I'll give you the blow-by-blow, partner."   
      
   "Jesus, Scully!"   
      
   She felt reckless, wild - Mulder's cock, separated from her   
   skin by the silky fabric of his boxers, pushed against her   
   palm; he was holding his breath, straining toward her   
   touch, her mouth, and she wanted to laugh from sheer   
   exhilaration. Instead she reached inside his underwear and   
   drew him out, felt him throb against her lifeline, and   
   swooped forward, engulfing as much of him as she could.   
      
   Mulder jerked once and was still; tension vibrated in his   
   strong thigh muscles where his legs framed her torso. One   
   hand rested on the top of her head; the other clumsily   
   slipped inside her blazer to find a breast. The angle was   
   awkward, and he was too focused for his technique to be   
   anything to write home about, but his fumbling urgency was   
   exciting.   
      
   She stayed still, sucking gently, until he began to move   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)