Progeny (7/9)
by Zephathah

Disclaimers and such in part 1.
Do not archive at Gossamer.
Missing chapters available at http://zephathah.tripod.com/

CHAPTER RATING: NC-17 for explicit sex between consenting adults.
PG-13/R version: http://zephathah.tripod.com/progeny7pg13.txt

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Chapter 7
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"Guys, this *really* isn't a good time," Mulder said as he opened the
door to the sight of the three Lone Gunmen, each in various poses of
obvious excitement.  Christ, Langly was practically beaming, holding a
stack of something close to his chest.

"Mulder, we've got some really hot--"  Byers quickly changed tack and
said, "Agent Scully, how lovely to see
you."

Mulder turned to see a slightly mussed and definitely thoroughly
kissed Scully coming up behind him.  She ducked under the arm propping
open the door.

"Hi boys."

Frohike's eyes shone.  "Agent Scully, you're positively glowing
tonight."  He reached to take her hand and gave it a gentlemanly kiss.

She retrieved her hand from his grasp and folded her arms across her
chest.  "What's up?"

"Actually Agent Scully, this concerns you, too," Byers said.  "May we
come in, Mulder?"

He waved them in, defeated.  "What have you got?"

"We think we've found something," continued Byers as he entered the
apartment.  "After all the labs were shut down, they still had all
those ova, right?  There were a number of large donations to several
government fertility clinics right around that time.  We were able to
track down one batch of them, and we think we found a woman who had
several of Agent Scully's ova implanted.  She has two children, a boy
and a girl."

From the expectant looks on their faces, the Gunmen obviously thought
she would welcome the news eagerly.  They were perplexed when her
relaxed, smiling face transformed into a blank mask.  Oh God, she
thought, I cannot go through this again.

Mulder took one look at his partner and reached for the files Langly
was clutching tightly in his hands.  Langly let them go willingly, his
face registering confused dismay at this less than enthusiastic
response.

"Thanks for bringing this over, guys.  We really appreciate it."
Mulder turned his back to Scully and started ushering the Gunmen out
the door.

"Geez, Mulder, we're sorry.  We thought she'd be happy," Frohike
whispered.

"Don't worry about it; she'll be fine.  You guys did a great job."  He
practically pushed them out the door, shutting and locking it even as
they continued to apologize to him.

He leaned back against the door, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Damn.  Scully had been right; they should have avoided the Gunmen
until tomorrow.

She was no longer in sight, and he walked through the apartment
looking for her.  He found her in his bedroom staring blankly at
something in her hands.  He moved closer and saw it was the photo of
Samantha and himself that he kept beside his bed, next to a picture of
Scully she probably didn't know he had.

He walked up beside her, laying an arm across her shoulders lightly.
She responded immediately, putting the picture down and wrapping both
arms around his back.

"I can't do it, Mulder.  I can't do it again."  Her voice was low and
exhausted.  He tightened his arms around her, and she looked up at
him, eyes shining with unshed tears.  "Does that make me a bad person?
I don't want to know, Mulder.  I don't want to see my own children.  I
don't think I could stand the pain again."

He brushed a lock of hair away from her face and said, "No, Scully, it
doesn't make you a bad person.  It makes you human."

She turned her face back into his chest, crying silently into his
shirt.  He smoothed her hair and rubbed her back, kicking himself for
ever answering the door.  They would have gone away eventually, and
then he and Scully would have had at least one night free of
nightmares.

More children.  And this time, seemingly not a part of an experiment
either.  Healthy, normal children.  Possibly even happy children.

"Scully?" he asked gently.  "I'm not going to push you into anything,
but maybe you should talk to someone about this, before making a final
decision..."

She laughed bitterly and pulled away from him.  "Who would I tell?
Who could possibly understand what I've been through?"

He shrugged uncomfortably, not knowing what to say.  He couldn't
disagree with her; it was the same reasoning he used whenever she
urged him to talk to someone.

"Maybe you could talk to your mother," he suggested.

Her lips tightened into a line and she turned her face away.

"Scully, have you told your mother about Laurel and Justin?"  He
reached for her, but she backed away, out of his reach.  "When was the
last time you talked to your mom?" he asked carefully.

She didn't answer, refusing even to look at him.  Dammit, he should
have seen this sooner.  He knew how close Scully's relationship with
her mother had been, what a force Maggie Scully was in her family.
Scully was dealing with a lot of guilt about her own state of
motherhood, and obviously she'd had trouble talking about it
with her mother.

He didn't want to push her even farther away, so he merely said, "Just
think about it, okay?"

She looked back at him, her eyes troubled.  

"Please?  Just think about it."

She nodded, once.  He stifled his sigh of relief and opened his arms,
an invitation to comfort.  This time she came to him, letting him
surround her with his warmth.

"Stay here tonight," he murmured into her hair.

She raised her head, a question in her eyes.

"Just to sleep," he answered, his lips quirking in a half smile.  Then
his face became serious, and he said, "Let me hold you."

She managed to smile back at him as she nodded in agreement.

He pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek and released her.  

They prepared for bed silently, a little awkward at deliberately
planning what had before only happened in times of crisis.  She
borrowed a pair of boxers and a t-shirt to wear and went into the
bathroom to change.  When she came out, Mulder was already in bed,
waiting for her.  He drew back the covers for her, his face studiously
nonchalant.  

She slipped under the sheets and into his arms, and somehow what had
seemed awkward only a moment ago, now felt completely natural.  Their
bodies molded to fit against each other, Mulder nuzzling the side of
her face as they shifted to match up curves and valleys.

Scully sighed as his hand drifted down her back until it reached the
edge of the t-shirt, then crept under it to gently knead her lower
back.  Their bodies were pressed together with no space between them;
it was incredible, this feeling of completeness they found in one
another's arms.

Scully felt her arousal building once more, and she trailed soft
kisses along his jaw and nibbled at his mouth until he opened his lips
to her kiss.  Her mouth pulled at his almost desperately, and suddenly
she felt the tears welling up inside her.  She broke the kiss and
leaned her forehead against his, trying to control her emotions.

He touched her cheek gingerly and asked, "Scully?  Are you-"

She pulled back to wipe the tears from her eyes angrily, arousal
turning into frustration.  "I'm tired of crying, Mulder."  She
breathed a long sigh and leaned into his hand as it brushed back her
hair.  "I'm tired of having a reason to cry."

"Maybe we can work on that," he said softly.

"Just don't ever leave me, Mulder," she said, her eyes boring into
his.  "I've almost lost you too many times."  She laid a hand over his
heart to reassure herself of its steady beat.

"Never, Scully.  You couldn't get rid of me if you tried."  He grinned
at her, and she attempted a smile in response.

His grin softened into a tender smile.  "C'mere, baby," he soothed.
He pulled her to him and stroked her back through the thin cotton of
her shirt.

She laid her head on his shoulder and draped a leg over one of his.
The steady motion of his hand lulled her into a contented state,
poised between sleep and wakefulness.

A thought occurred to her, briefly pulling her toward slightly more
lucid awareness.  "Mulder?" she queried drowsily.

"Hmmm?"

"You called me 'baby'."

"I did?"

"You did."

"Oh."  

He was silent for a long time, and Scully felt herself drifting off.  

"Do you mind?  I could call you 'pumpkin' instead," he said lightly,
turning it into a joke.

She mumbled, "No, 's okay.  You can call me 'baby'."  She lifted
her head an inch to look at him sternly.  "But don't even think about
calling me 'sweetie pie'."

"Honey bunch?"

"Go to sleep, Mulder."  She plopped her head back on his chest and
closed her eyes.

"Sure thing, sugar plum."

She found a spot between two of his ribs and twisted the skin lightly.
"Did I ever tell you about the fascinating lecture in med school where
they taught us how to incapacitate someone using just two fingers?"

"Now, sweetheart, there's no need to-"  He broke off in a squeal of
pain.  "All right, all right.  You win.  *Scully*."

She released the pressure point, and he sighed in relief.  They lay
together quietly, letting the night take them into sleep.

"Scully," he murmured.

"Hmm?"

"Nothing, just... Scully."

Her mouth curved up in a smile, and she gave him a light squeeze
around his waist.  He could put more emotion in her name than any
stupid endearment.

He whispered, "Scully," one more time, and then they were silent.

********

Morning came entirely too soon, the patter of rain rousing Mulder from
his dream.  But reality was better than dreaming, he thought, as he
registered Scully's presence beside him.  She lay sprawled bonelessly
on her stomach, one knee pulled up and one arm wrapped around a
pillow.  Her face was turned toward him, and he enjoyed the sight of
her sleeping peacefully, comfortably, in *his* bed.

Her nose wrinkled and her eyelids twitched as she groped arduously
toward waking.  He watched as she slowly blinked once, twice, clearing
the morning gumminess.  She glanced quickly around the room without
moving her head, taking in the unfamiliar sights.  Then he saw the
recognition click in her eyes and was gratified by her sudden easiness
at finding herself in unexpected circumstances.

She planted her hands on the bed near her shoulders and straightened
them, lifting herself up and arching her back in a long, delicious
stretch.  She hummed in satisfaction and rolled her neck several
times, working out the tightness.  She dropped heavily back onto the
bed and turned to him with a sleepy, "Morning, Mulder."

"Good morning, sunshine."  He was grinning foolishly at her, but he
didn't care.

She groaned and buried her head in the pillow.  "No sunshine until
I've had my coffee."

He laughed out loud, then pulled himself up and swung out of bed.
"Come on then, rain cloud."

****

Mulder was taking a gulp of orange juice when he saw it, and he almost
choked on the cold liquid.  Scully was standing before the Mr. Coffee,
waiting impatiently for the pot to fill with enough coffee for her
first cup of the day.  It was a sight he had seen often over the past
seven years.  Except, usually they were in the basement office, not
his kitchen.  Usually she was dressed in an ultra professional suit,
complete with 3-inch heels, not one of his old grey t-shirts and a
pair of his boxers - and barefoot, too.  Usually her hair was
perfectly coifed, every strand in place, not rumpled with a decent
case of bedhead.

He thought she'd never looked more beautiful.

"Mulder, you're gazing," she said without turning.

How had she known?  He immediately busied himself with making toast.
"I do not *gaze*."  Hadn't he said that to someone before?  He was so
full of shit.

"You are so full of shit."

Well, it was good to know they agreed on something.  He snuck a glance
at her, a bashful smile pulling at his face.

She had turned to face him, hands on her hips.  The incongruity of the
image hit him again, and all he could do was stare.

"*What* are you looking at, Mulder?"

"You."

He said it so directly, with such honest sincerity in his voice that
she caught her breath.  She covered her reaction with a raised eyebrow
and asked, "What about me?"  She was very pleased with the lack of
tremor.

"You're beautiful."

How could he do this to her - say such sweet things when circumstances
refused to allow her to take him seriously?  Beautiful?  She was in
boxers, a t-shirt, and no make-up, she hadn't shaved her legs in days,
and she didn't want to even think about what her hair looked like.

Mulder grinned as she gaped at him wordlessly.  He took a couple
steps toward her and said, "You are.  Standing here in my kitchen,
wearing my clothes and nothing else, waiting for the coffee, you are
beautiful."

She crossed her arms over her obviously braless front and stuck out
her chin.  "Well, it's about time you noticed."

"Ah, Scully, I've definitely noticed."

He was towering over her now, so close to her she had to crane her
neck back to look at him.

"You like the t-shirt look?" she asked, recovered now from her
momentary shock and ready to play the game.

Mulder nodded.  "Especially when it's my t-shirt."

Scully looked down at the shirt she was wearing, as if noticing for
the first time it wasn't one of her own.

"Oh, right, this one's yours."  She touched the sleeve, seeing in her
mind how snugly it fit over his biceps when he wore it.  "The grey
one.  My favorite."

"Scully, you have a favorite among my t-shirts?"

Had she said that out loud?  She shot a glance up at him and saw he
was genuinely surprised - and more than a little pleased.

"I must say, Mulder, I think it looks better on you than me."  She
trailed a finger up his forearm, watching the goose bumps she left
behind.

He reached for her, but she stepped back, teasing him with a smile.

"I think it looks better on the floor," he growled.

"Is that a request, G-man?"

He licked his lips as she fingered the edge of the shirt, slowly
lifting it to reveal her smooth, pale skin inch by inch.  He had to
touch it; the expanse of bare flesh was like a siren calling his name.

His fingers followed the edge of the hem as she raised it over her
stomach, over her ribs to where the curve of her breasts began.  His
thumb ran up over her breast, over the nipple that was already
hardening at his touch.

In one swift motion, Scully lifted the shirt over her head and tossed
it on the floor.  She pushed her breasts into Mulder's hands and
murmured, "You're right.  It does look better on the floor."

His hands were running all over her naked skin, reveling in this new
playground of delights.  He pulled her to him and bent his head to
nibble lightly on her ear.

"Scully?"  

His voice was raspy and hoarse, and unbelievably sexy.  She felt the
moisture between her legs, the growing heat flooding her body.

"Yes?" she replied, her voice cracking.

"I want to be inside you."

She groaned and reached up to pull his mouth down for a kiss.  When
they came up for air she breathed, "That works out well."

Mulder was busy ravaging the soft skin between jaw and shoulder and
could only manage a questioning grunt in reply.

"Because I want you to be inside me, too."

It was too much for Mulder, and he grabbed her around the waist and
lifted, ignoring the pain in his arm.  She wrapped her legs around him
and held on tightly to his shoulders.  He maneuvered them through the
apartment and back to the bedroom, all the time continuing to kiss and
suck the tender flesh of her neck.

He lowered her until she was sitting on the edge of the bed, and she
used her feet to push down the soft pants he'd worn to bed.  It was
tricky to get the waistband over his erection, but Scully still had
the skills she had learned as a little girl, competing with Missy to
see who could write better using her toes.  Little Dana had always
won.

They had to part briefly while Mulder's shirt was pulled over his head
and thrown across the room without a second thought.  Then their lips
were back on each other's, devouring, exploring, making side trips to
investigate newly discovered territory.

Mulder grabbed her boxers and pushed them roughly over her hips and
off her legs.  She wrapped her thighs around his waist once more,
pulling closer to him, pressing her heat and wetness against his skin.

His cock was trapped between their bodies, and she used his shoulders
to hitch herself up until he was pressed against her entrance.  "I
want you inside of me," she moaned into his ear.

He tightened his arms around her and stood erect, supporting her as he
turned to press her back against the wall.

"Is this how you want me, Scully?" he breathed.

"God, Mulder, *yes*."

He pushed into her, and she felt the walls of her vagina contract
around him.  He rocked in and out, deeper each time until at last he
was buried in her completely.  They looked at each other, eyes bright
with amazement.

"I'm here," he said gruffly.

She leaned in for a gentle kiss.  "Welcome home."

They were utterly still, lost in this moment they both had wondered
would ever come.

Then Mulder began to withdraw slowly, and Scully closed her eyes and
pressed her head against the wall, overwhelmed by the sensation.  Then
he was moving rhythmically back and forth, sliding in and out of her
as she used gravity to increase the impact of each thrust.

She was tight, so tight; it felt so good.  He never wanted to be
anywhere else.

"Nowhere else," she gasped.  "Only in me."  The feel of him driving
into her was like the ramming home of some eternal truth.  It filled
her, and she pulled him tighter, wanting more.

Mulder slammed into her, harder, harder, spurred on by her demands for
"More, I want more."

He could feel the orgasm building, feel it approaching the breaking
point.  "Do you want me to come inside you?  Is that what you want?"
he rasped.

His thrusts quickened, and she could only reply in nonsensical
monosyllabic sounds, urging him on.

He exploded inside her, breath coming in heaving gasps as he buried
himself as deep as he could go.  Then she was convulsing around him,
her cries hoarse and uncontrolled.  She arched into him, the friction
increasing the waves of pleasure coursing through her.

He crossed his arms around her back and stumbled backward to the bed,
falling onto it with Scully resting on his chest.  She lifted herself
off him with a drawn out groan and slid to the side, pillowing her
head on his shoulder.

When he had his breath back, he turned on his side, brushing the hair
out of her face with trembling fingers.  She greeted him with a
widening smile, and he kissed her softly on the lips.

Then he tapped her on the nose and asked, "Ready for that coffee now,
sunshine?"

Laughing, she tried to trap his finger between her teeth, but he
pulled back in time and offered his lips instead.  After a long, slow
kiss, he helped her up from the bed, and together they searched for
their discarded clothing.

He offered her another t-shirt to wear, and as she accepted it with a
smile, he asked, "Scully?"  He hadn't released his hold on the shirt,
and he used it to pull her closer to him.  His fingertip traced the
delicate bones of her face, his eyes following the movement of his
finger.  Abruptly he said, "You know I love you, don't you?"

Her expression softened, and she brought up a hand to hold his against
her cheek.  "I know, Mulder."  She kissed his palm and looked at him,
saying, "I love you, too, you know."

He pulled her into a hug, enclosing her in those long, long arms, and
said softly, happily, "I know."

********


end part 7/9 of Progeny
Missing chapters available at http://zephathah.tripod.com/

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