TITLE: Mystery Lover
CATEGORY: slash(female), vignette
ARCHIVE/CROSSPOSTING: anywhere except Gossamer/ATXC
SUMMARY: This is a pre-Genesis episode. Didn't you ever wonder what Scully was doing for -- enjoyment-- the last five years?
Comments to author welcome.
"Hhmmm---" Tap, tap.
"Whatcha writing?" Bored, nobody to talk to. The pencil fortress was _not_ holding his attention.
"A -- report." Tap, tap.
"What report?" Slightly hurt. *For two _hours_? Not even a _How are you?_ when I come in?*
"Um -- the case from last week --" Tap -- tap, tap ,tap --
"_What_ case from last week?" Panicking slightly. *Oh, shit -- did I forget another report?"
"You know --" Tap. "The one --" Tap,tap. " --with the aliens--"
Jumping up. "_What_ aliens!!!"
Scully finally turned, her back carefully screening her monitor. Her face was slightly flushed, her eyes a little glazed. "Goddamn it, Mulder! _Why_ are you shouting!"
He stared, confused. "I thought maybe, just maybe -- you'd like to review the testimony we have to give in court later today?"
She sighed, her mind already elsewhere. "All right -- just let me say goodb -- uh, close this program out." She looked at the words before her, wondering not for the first time, just what she was getting into.
ML: Meet me here at 10 pm??
Scully hesitated for just a second, then typed: _Yes_
ML: Are you there?
DS: I'm here. But I can't stay.
*I don't even know why I got this far!* But she couldn't just leave her there, with no explanation, could she? *And why the hell not, Dana! You don't even _know_ her!*
Well, that wasn't exactly true -- they had been conversing -- all right -- _chatting_ -- for weeks now. It had started simply enough -- she'd stumbled into one of those rooms on the net ostensibly for women in law enforcement to compare war stories and talk about work related issues. She'd just lurked for a while, then she found herself looking for a particular participant to sign on. ML was funny and bright, and they seemed to have similar views. Soon they were writing privately. Neither of them asked the other's name; neither of them offered it.
ML: Are you angry with me?
DS: No. Of course not.
ML: If it's because of what I said earlier--
But it was, wasn't it? Had she really been that surprised when ML had confessed to being attracted to her, after they had been writing two or three times a day, for days? Sharing things she hadn't told another soul? *But I'm not attracted to her, for god's sake! Just because I look for her email first -- every few hours-- and I'm terribly disappointed when there's none there, and she makes me laugh, and she makes me want to tell her things about myself from when I was ten years old, for Christ sake!* She stared at the screen.
ML: It's okay, you know. I won't touch you if you don't want me to <g>
DS: I didn't say that.
*FUCK! What are you doing! You can't seriously be considering this! Of course not. You're a professional, an FBI agent -- people like you don't do this -- do they?* She flashed on Mulder and his tapes. *Oh, great! Terrific! You need a date, Dana. Mom is right -- you need to get out more.* She willed her hands not to move onto the keyboard.
ML: I won't even touch _myself_ if you tell me not to <vbg>
Scully closed her eyes. *Do not think about it. Do not, do not, do not!* Her hands moved on their own.
DS: Are you?
Scully swallowed. Stared at the words. Imagined the woman reading the phrases that connected them physically, as surely as if they were in the same room. Her fingers began to tremble. What was worse, she felt a trickle of wetness, a throbbing between her legs.
DS: Are you wet?
ML: Yes. All day. Are you?
*Jesus, Dana, get a grip!* She was mesmerized by the voice she could almost hear. She shifted on the seat, her thighs tightly closed. *I'll just tell her to stop*
ML: Should I tell you?
She waited, not thinking, her pulse racing.
ML: I'm stroking myself lightly -- my clit is tingling -- I can't press too hard -- I've been thinking about you all day -- I'm afraid I'll come-- I want to feel you first, before I com,e--
Scully's fingers slipped inside the silk robe, found a nipple, brushed it lightly, then squeezed. She bit her lip, containing a moan.
DS: Is it good?
ML: Oh my god, yess -- I'm imagining your fingers, touching me--rolling my clit -- god -- I have to -stopp -- ytoo close--
Scully closed her eyes, willing away the vision, trying to ignore the surging need between her own legs.
DS: I can tell--
ML: May I touch you now?
*It's just words -- nothing's going to happen* Scully spread her legs slightly, the robe falling open between her knees. Her eyes were glued to the screen, her breathing increasing sharply. She ran the fingers of her left hand lightly up the inside of her thigh. She stopped when she met the soft, damp hair. That was all -- no more. Words formed on the screen, a whisper in her ear.
ML: Oh, you _are_ wet. And so swollen. God, you're beautiful. I have my fingers on your clit, softly -- I want to feel you get hard.
Scully's clit twitched. She gasped in surprise. She moved her hand higher, into the moist curls between her legs, easing her lips apart. Oh! She _was_ hard, and so goddamned wet! She stroked herself lightly for an instant, then pulled away as a shiver ran down her thighs.
ML: I can feel you shaking. I'm just going to rub you, one finger on each side of your clit -- you're so warm -- there's no hurry--
She was swelling, throbbing steadily. Now that she'd touched herself once, she was dying to continue. *Enough!*
DS: This is making me crazy--
She typed with one hand, but she still wouldn't give in. The hand in her lap ached to reach for her clit -- she pushed back in the chair, trying to ignore the insistent pressure pounding in her belly.
ML: I'm sliding one finger inside of you now, my thumb on your clit, holding you, pressing higher--Oh, god -- you feel so good--
Scully's vision dimmed for a second as the muscles in her pelvis contracted. She wanted to be filled, needed something to ease the relentless buildup of blood and overstimulated nerve endings. She found her clit, pulled back the hood with thumb and middle finger, her index finger flicking across the exposed tip. She tugged the sensitive shaft; her hips jerked.
DS: Oh, ggod..
ML: Two fingers now, my arm curving between your legs, pumping hard...
Her feet were digging into the carpet, her legs stiff, almost painfully tight. Her hand moved rapidly, her fingers working her engorged clit from side to side, dipping down into her own wetness, pulling the thick warm cum over the top, around the sides--
DS: I'm -- close --
ML: You're squeezing down onmy fingers, gushing into my hand -- my teeth find your nipple -- biting--
DS: Don't stop --
Scully's right hand flew from the keys, joining the left between her legs, fingers driving inside, riding them now as she rode the thin edge of orgasm. Her eyes searched the screen -- needing the final stroke. *Oh, fuck -- so close -- gotta come now--*
ML: Fucking you harder now -- faster -- Oh god -- it's starting--
Scully wailed as the first wave of spasms began -- her head thrashing against the chair back, pelvis thrusting erratically, meeting the internal contractions with thrusts of her own hand. She pressed down hard on her distended clit, forcing out every last explosive tremor. The words on the screen blurred as her cries trailed off to faint whimpers. *Oh my god! soo good!*
ML: You're fantastic-- <G>
Scully tried to make her fingers function.
DS: I'm demolished
ML: I'm a little wasted myself <g> I, um, kinda got carried away with you--
Scully smiled, oddly pleased.
ML: See you again?
Scully read the simple question over and over, searching for the right words. Then, very deliberately she typed:
_Tomorrow -- 10pm_
Disclaimer: Scully and Mulder belong to CC and company. The *Mystery Lover* is mine <g>.