Pool Fun

by Marsha and Rachel

Title: Pool Fun
Authors: Marsha and Rachel
Feedback: marshahyatt@hotmail.com, firephile@aol.com Archive: Yes but please let us know where. Rating: NC - 17

Disclaimer: Chris Carter and 1013 own them, we don't own them we just invited them out to play for awhile and the girls said yes.

Authors Notes:

Marsha: This is new for me writing with a partner, however I couldn't have asked for a better partner than Rachel. Her ideas, her talent and more that that her wit and humor are the real thing. As I told you before Rach, you make me want to be a better writer, I hope we can do this again. As always Cara is the queen! You make me sound good honey. Deb is a wealth of information and help with the sticky parts, thanks for the inspiration and the advice. A real big thank you to Lisa, Amberdragon, if it weren't for her Rachel and I would never have done this. One night in IRC Lisa was doing her FF Cheerleader dance, complete with pom poms and Rachel and I started brainstorming, and the result is this story. The past few months have been tough for me and the support I have found here and at Her Captain is a source of strength, thank you to all of the wonderful women. Thanks and I hope y'all enjoy!

Rachel: I've written with a partner before but Marsha is amazing. Her ideas, her humor and her excellent grasp of Monica made this feel easy. I love how well we blended. And Clair, you're gonna get to see this really soon :) I can't wait to get back on IRC. And I crave feedback like some people crave chocolate :)

Feedback: Yeah I like it, who am I kidding I need a 12 step program. Marshahyatt@hotmail.com




Pool Fun

In an hour, Cary Martin Williams III would be arrested for the murders of four men. It would be the culmination of weeks of investigation, stakeouts, and undercover work. Tonight, I found the evidence needed to tie him to the crimes. It took forever but we finally got a blood test. Finally got through his high powered and very well paid lawyer. It didn't seem like it was helping at all. Everything looked clean. We ran it through every test we could think of, short of checking him for pregnancy. We knew for a fact he didn't have any sexual transmitted disease, his cholesterol was high, and he was anemic. None of this information helped in any way; his blood type was horribly common. A DNA test would take time that we didn't have, not if we wanted to stop him before he killed again. Then, I spotted something in the test result--a rare form of a common disease that stayed in the blood. When I tested the blood found under one of the victim's fingernails it was a match. We had him.




I was tired; not just tired, but bone weary soul numbing tired. This case had taken almost everything out of my body and soul. The DuPont Murders, as the media had dubbed them, hit close to home for me; for once I fought to be included on a task force for a regular case. Cary Martin Williams III came from money. All the privileges that the Washington social world could afford were his, and he hid his crimes well for a while. His father was an advisor to the President, his mother a doyen of the Smithsonian, but all those connections weren't enough to save him now. He had brutally murdered 4 young men in the DuPont section of Washington, and now it was time for him to pay.

In the beginning the biggest obstacle to the investigation was the lack, or seeming lack, of evidence. We had loads of evidence, but it was all so general that it was almost no good. Our unsub had a common blood type that had almost no real markers that we could use in matching the DNA evidence found on the victims. Dana Scully had been called in from Quantico to lead the forensic team in the investigation, and I loved being able to work with her again. We had weeks and weeks of surveillance and stakeouts and finally a suspect in Williams. It took legal maneuvering that would have made Clarence Darrow proud, but we got our blood test, and it looked as though it was almost over. When I left the task force HQ earlier this evening Scully was in the lab, and the rest of the team sat around like expectant fathers.

I had to leave. I was on the verge of screaming, and the psychic energy from this case bombarded me from the very beginning. From the time I was a child I had what my Granny called the gift. When the murders started to surface it was as if I could feel these men calling to me, and for the first time in my life I was scared of my power. I drove to my loft and as I walked into the space that had become my sanctuary, I stripped and went directly to the shower. Turning on the spray, I adjusted the temperature and went to the space that served as my bedroom. Picking out a pair of my oldest jeans and my favorite academy T-shirt, I walked back to the bathroom and got in the shower.

The agents were going to make the arrest. They asked if I wanted to come along. I asked where Monica was-- she was the one who found him. I said I wanted to tell her the news in person. He wouldn't be hurting anyone else, ever. It felt vindicating that finally justice would be served in one part of my life. Even Williams' family's connections could not help him. At least, I hope not. But, evil has a way of slipping through my grasp and running off to commit more unspeakable acts.

I loved this shower. It was my one extravagance when I moved in. I had lived in so many prefabed houses and apartments over the years that when I found this loft I had to make it my own. I designed the bathroom myself and the centerpiece was the shower. It was big enough for two and had a bench. It converted into a steam chamber, and I spent many an hour just sitting in here sweating. The spray came from 4 different heads; one directly above my head, two from the side and one that was a hand held head that had massage settings. When I moved in I paid for the extra plumbing to increase the water pressure and never regretted the dent it put in my bank account.

I stood there letting the water pound my body trying to wash away the feeling this case left on me every day. Lost in thought, I surrendered to the feel of the water. The one thing that came to my mind was Dana; the only thing on my mind these days was this case and Dr. Dana Katherine Scully. Over the last year we had become close. Whether it was because of the work on the X Files or the bond that was formed when William was born, I can't say. I just know that I valued her friendship. About a month ago that all changed.




I never shied away from undercover work. I kind of enjoyed it. The DuPont murder case was at a standstill and someone had the idea that instead of sending male agents undercover in the bars, female agents should go. All the victims had been picked up at mixed clubs, another anomaly for the investigative team. My name was at the top of the undercover list, and I had no problem with the assignment. My only request was that I not go alone. I requested Agent Scully to be my back up, and she agreed.




We met at the club at 10 on a Friday night and as soon as we entered the club I could feel an energy that was out of place. Dana picked up on my body language right away.

"What's wrong?"

"Something's out of place here, I can't put my finger on it but I feel it."

"Just stay alert and I'll watch out for you."

With Scully at my side I relaxed a bit and we were able to watch the club at our leisure. I had been in gay clubs before but I could tell this was a new experience to Dana. As we tried to blend in, Dana was getting more and more uncomfortable.

"What's wrong?" I asked as I leaned into her ear so I could be heard.

"There is a woman staring at me," she said in a voice tinged with apprehension.

"Dana, we are in a gay club. You look fantastic. You're just noticing the women cruising you?" I laughed.

"What?" Her eyes grew huge. "There are women cruising me?" she squeaked. But I heard something else in that squeak; I heard wonderment and a tiny bit of a thrill.

"Dana, let's dance. If you sit there with that OH MY GOD look people are gonna know something is wrong with this picture."

I took her hand and led her to the dance floor and we fused into the crowd of dancing sweaty bodies. I had missed this. When I lived in New Orleans I loved to go to the gay clubs at the end of Bourbon Street. I would lose myself in the music and just dance, forgetting all the hell I saw on a daily basis. I would dance until I almost couldn't stand and then I would push my body further. Instead of drinking I danced, instead of drugs I danced, instead of losing myself in one-night stands I danced. I danced with anyone who would dance with me and that aura came over me as I danced with Dana. She moved in perfect counterpoint to me, she was wearing her boots that almost brought her to eye level with me and she locked her gaze on mine. The room drifted away and it was just us dancing, being with each other. We danced until the sweat poured from our bodies and not one time did our eyes leave each other's. The last dance nearly did me in; Dana slid an arm around my waist and pulled me to her. Her other hand snaked up my back and rested between my shoulder blades. Her mouth rested near my ear I could feel her breath and involuntary shivers ran the length of my body.

"Are you cold?" she asked.

"No," I managed to say through a mouth suddenly dry.

"Are those women still, what did you call it, cruising me?"

I looked around and was the recipient of some death stares from some of the women on the floor.

"No," I lied. "You're fine." I felt her body relax against mine and I was overcome with a need to protect her. "Let's go. I think we have done all we can do here, tonight."

We walked out of the bar hand in hand and then down the street till we turned the corner. The surveillance van doors opened and we got in. On the way back to the Task Force headquarters I noticed the looks from the agents who had seen everything that had gone on in the club, thanks to the mini cameras that we were wearing. More stares greeted us as we walked in to HQ to be debriefed. At first I put it down to the way we were dressed, it was so different than how we normally looked. We finished the debriefing and as we walked out it dawned on me I had left my car at the club.

"Aw, man! That's all the way back in DuPont Circle!"

"That's okay, Monica, I'll drive you home."

With that Dana touched my arm and the feeling that had hit me as we walked into the club washed over me again. It was Dana; she was the energy that was skewed. The ride to my loft was punctuated by silence. When we arrived I asked Dana if she wanted to come up and to my surprise she said yes. As we walked in I began to feel nervous. Why, I couldn't explain, but it seemed that in her presence I couldn't think straight.

"Would you like something to drink?"

"Sure, a vodka tonic or gin, whatever you have is fine."

I fixed the drinks and as I walked back to the living area I was brought up short at the sight of her on my couch. She looked so small and fragile, and my heart clutched at wanting to protect her.

"Here you are, a Kettle One Vodka tonic with lime." I handed her the tumbler and nearly lost all ability to breathe as I watched her fish the lime slice out of the liquid and suck it into her mouth. I had never wanted to be a piece of fruit more in my life. I somehow made my way to the opposite end of the couch and took a long pull off my Yingling.

"Did you ever find what was making you feel hinky at the club tonight?"

I was avoiding looking directly at her but this question forced me to meet her gaze. "Ah.yeah I did."

"What was it?"

"Um.. it was you." Did I just say that? My mind was reeling! Why had I chosen this moment to be open with her? I wasn't drunk; I could have kept my feelings buried. However, I didn't and now it was out there for her to see.

"Me? Why me?"

Well you've done it now Monica. You have to answer her.

"Dana, I have to tell you something. Something that you might not want to hear, but I have to say it."

"What is it? That you are in love with me or is it just lust?"

My head whipped up so quickly that I thought I had snapped a tendon. I just stared at her with a wonder in my eyes that didn't need the verbal accompaniment of a question.

"You forget, Monica, that I spent seven years with Mulder. If I ever was going to know how he felt about me, I was going to have to devine it. He sure wasn't going to tell me. It took me a long time, but I finally figured it out."

"I thought I hid my feelings pretty well when it came to you," I whispered.

"Oh you did, until tonight, when we danced. That was the spark for me. That was the aha moment in my scientist brain. That last dance before we left the floor told me all I needed to know. You held me like you were protecting me." Dana reached over and took my hand that had been lying on the top of the couch. Lacing her fingers with mine she said, "I haven't felt that in a long time."

She knew. I thought that I was the psychic one. How could she have known? My mind ping ponged around in my skull until she lifted my hand to her lips and kissed it. Briefly her lips brushed the back, and I was gone. I sank into her like a woman who had been walking across the desert and now found herself at the ocean. She welcomed my kiss and touch with grace. Before I knew what was happening I was on my back and Dana was straddling me, her lips trailing fire on mine and her hands playing my body like an instrument. All of a sudden I felt one hand in the center of my chest as she pushed herself up and away.

"What? What's wrong?" I asked.

"I have to know something." Taking a deep breath she asked, "Is this real? If it is, I can handle whatever comes next. But if this is just a product of tonight and the case, I want to stop this. We work well together, and I have already ruined one working relationship with sex and another with denial. I cannot afford to lose you. So tell me is this just a fuck or is it something more?"

Her words flowed out in a rush, stunning me. I couldn't answer. I wanted to, I wanted to pull her to me and tell her how long I had waited for this moment, but I couldn't. She looked into my face trying to read what was there, seeing my naked emotions warring with each other. She rose off me and quietly put on her coat and left me there staring at the ceiling cursing myself for letting her walk away.*

Shaking painful memories from my head I washed my hair and finished. Still lost in the memory of Dana's touch, I dried off and dressed, finger-combing my hair, preparing for a night of waiting for any news of the case. Walking into the large main room of my loft, the only area illuminated, I picked up the CD remote and pressed the play button. Sheryl Crow blasted from the speakers hidden all over the room. I live pretty simply but I have been accused of having an addiction to electronics. One wall of the loft looked as if you could launch a satellite from the amount of flashing sensors and knobs that were attached to components. My CD changer held 10 CDs and none of them were from the same genre of music. As I was growing up my parents introduced me to everything from Opera to Miles Davis, and my stay in New Orleans had opened me up to Jazz, Dixieland and most importantly, the Blues. I stood in the middle of the room and scanned the Crow CD until "If It Makes You Happy" came on. At that I cranked the volume, walked to my liquor cabinet and fixed myself a Kettle One vodka tonic. Remote still in hand, I switched the CD to Parliament Funkadelic and slowly started to relax. I puttered around the loft, straightening up, and checking my e-mail. E-mail from friends made me smile and a note from my goddaughter made me laugh. Rachel just turned 5 and she is more computer savvy than either of her parents. She just wanted to tell me that she had a new boyfriend and wanted to know if I wanted to double date with her the next time I visited. I wrote her back that the next time I visited it was a plan. The music was working its magic along with the vodka and for the first time since this case had begun I was starting to relax.

I rang the doorbell, and waited for a moment.

Doctor John was singing about the Big Muddy and New Orleans when I heard a faint chime of the doorbell, or rather what passed as a door to my loft. I walked to the sliding iron door and pulled it back and there she stood. Agent Dana Scully.

The door opened and there was Monica, who I didn't even realize I missed until I saw her. Her soft brown hair was disheveled slightly, her feet were bare against the wooden floor, her jeans hugged her in all the right places and she wore a FBI academy T-shirt that had some old paint splatters. She looked good. God she looked good. Please let me have not said that out loud.

"Agent Scully, what are you doing here so late?"

I inwardly winced; my last name was something I was truly beginning to dislike. I wanted to hear her call me Dana, but I couldn't say anything. Afraid to make the second move, as per usual.

I saw a cloud pass over her face and wondered why. God, she looked tired. This case had taken its toll on her as well. Even with the stress evident in her face and body she still looked wonderful to me. She stood rooted in my doorway.

"I've got good news. I can't stay long."

"Please come in." I said wanting to say more but biting back any further comment. I wanted her to stay, but she seemed determined to state her case and leave. As she passed by me I caught her scent and flashes of that night tore through my head again.

The apartment was low lit except for one corner where the lights were on fully. I licked my lips as I remembered what happened on the couch we were sitting on.

Trying to compose myself, I smiled at her and said, "Would you like something to drink?" holding up my tumbler of Vodka as a signal.

She seemed to be lost and she looked so small standing in the middle of the loft.

"No, I really can't stay long."

Fine, I thought, you want to get away from me that bad, just say what you have to say and leave.

"I just wanted to tell you, we got Williams."

I sucked in a breath as my smile faded, it was over. I closed my eyes in a silent prayer as I dropped my head. Trying not to cry in the sheer relief that this monster was going to pay for his acts, when I knew I could look at her again without completely breaking down, I gazed back up at her and smiled.

"That is good news," I breathed, and caught her eye. She turned away from me before I could see the emotion in her face. As she looked around the loft her gaze came to rest on my pride and joy, my regulation Brunswick Gold Crown IV pool table. The only thing I spend any money on is toys and this is my favorite toy. It is mahogany and trimmed in antique bronze with a rack of balls that I bought in New Orleans at an Antique shop on Royal in the Quarter. The felt is the deepest bayou green, and the rack of cues hanging on the wall contains both new and antique cues. Hidden among them is the cue that I used in grad school to make my rent money. I was considered a shark in the pool halls that surrounded Brown. I never wanted to put any extra burden on my parents for money so I hustled pool when I ran low on cash

"Is that your pool table?" she asked a note of surprise in her voice.

"Yup, I had it in storage for the longest time. This is the first apartment where it actually fits. Do you play?" I asked forcing myself into sounding nonchalant about the answer. She looked at the table as if remembering something from her past and her back was still to me as she answered.

There was something not quite innocent in her tone, and my pulse raced as I realized she might be flirting. This might be a crossroads; every moment in my life lately felt like the next could change everything. This was something I needed something I wanted. And I, Dana Scully, was going to flirt back. Memories of college, late nights with friends, med school, quick games between impossible tests and the FBI academy, shooting pool while trying to recite the laws of the land. I also remembered the boy named Andy who taught me how to play pool and how we wound up that night. Monica was waiting for an answer.

"No, but it always looked like fun."

With the arrest and the case nearly wrapped up, it felt as if a weight had been lifted off me, and in the space of minutes the familiar pangs of desire for the petite redhead standing in front of me returned. I wanted to pick up and try to repair the damage of that night; I wanted her to know how much I needed her in my life.

"It is." I carefully chose my next words not wanting to scare her away, "I could teach you the basics, if you have the time."

"My Mom's watching the baby. I don't need to rush home," she said as she turned and I saw the smile form on her lips. While she took off her trench coat I smiled. This was the signal I had been waiting for. This was the Dana that was coy and playful. I rarely got a glimpse of her, but when I did it robbed me of logical thinking.

"Great," I said as I walked to the cue rack and chose two cues. Turning back to her, I handed her a cue and proceeded to give her the basics. Her scientist brain took over as she watched my hands and how I held the cue as I demonstrated the break. I leaned over the table placing the cue ball demonstrating the correct posture to break; I glanced over at her and caught her looking at my ass. She wanted to play; I could read that in her eyes, so play we would.

I didn't pay much attention to the basics she was laying out. I could only concentrate on her hands against the table, and the way she gently held the cue. I slipped off my heels. I'd forgotten I was shorter than she was. In the heels I wear, it's easy to forget. She was holding out the cue and I took it, surprised to find my hand sweaty against the wood.

"Okay now.this is how it's done."

Her eyes were concentrated on the white ball, her fingers deftly held the cue steady, and her body leaned over in a way that made me want to make the first move. Instead, I watched and tried to appear neutral. I was waiting for the hands on part.

I hit a weak shot that barely glanced off the rack and I played it cool pretending I could do no better. I hit a couple more shots making one and missing one and then stepped back to let Dana try. She walked up to the table, barefooted, and bent over mishandling the cue. She shot once, a glancing blow off the cue ball, and turned to me with a sheepish grin on her face. She continued to make rookie mistakes, but I let her, encouraging her that she was doing great. Finally I had to step in, either she was that bad a player or I was getting hustled, I stepped up beside her.

"Okay Dana let me show you something." I placed my hand over hers and manipulated her fingers into the proper position. "Try again," I said as I stepped back.

I inwardly smiled when she placed her hand on top of mine and maneuvered my fingers into the proper holding position. Then did it wrong again. I wanted her to touch me and if I had to act like the world's most clueless pool player for that to happen, well, it wasn't the worst thing I ever did.

She miffed the shot again and I couldn't understand how someone who was so dexterous in every other aspect of her life could suck at such an easy game. I watched her try and gave her pointers as my impatience grew. Finally it became too much.

I felt shivers go through my body as she repositioned my hand, the ring on her right hand cold against my warm body.

"Dana, not being able to hold the cue or line up a shot is like not being able to dribble in basketball."

I moved behind her molding my pelvis and legs to hers. Leaning over her I slid my hand down her arm until my fingers wrapped over hers holding the cue. She was so warm and the heat from her body penetrated my jeans and T-shirt. I couldn't stop the reactions that my body was undergoing; my nipples were so hard it bordered on pain. She had that kind of power over me, a power that I didn't understand and really didn't want to.

I realized she was standing behind me, trying to show me the right way to stand and with one hand still on my hand, her other one went to my hip. I was starting to get impatient myself. Maybe I read her wrong; maybe she was just being friendly.

"You're standing all wrong," I gulped into her ear that was now every close to my mouth. "This is how you should stand." My hand slid down her arm and came to rest on her hip; I lightly dug my fingers in and moved her hip until her legs parted. She widened her stance a fraction and that gave me room to move.

I couldn't resist; Dana was snug up against me, her ass making little movements that were driving me crazy. I trailed my hand from her hip to the outside of her thigh slowly gathering her skirt, my other hand on top of hers holding the cue. Dana vainly tried to concentrate on the task at hand, but I could feel the shudders that ran through her body and the increase in her breathing. I ran my palm over her stockinged thigh and then scratched my nails up to where the tops ended. Dana had not moved during all of this and I thought she was about to break it off when I heard a soft moan as I traced my fingertips over her inner thigh.

I let out a soft breath and pressed back against her, preparing to turn around, spreading my legs slightly, waiting for her next move.

She was holding the cue like a lifeline, and when I ran my hand to the silkiness of her thigh she let it drop, the cue falling to the table with a muted clatter. Her free hand raised to my head burying in my hair that had fallen to mix with hers. I felt her legs widen even more at my touch and I moved my hand to the top of her stockings and started to trace the lace with my fingers. The hand that my hand was covering turned and laced our fingers together as I buried my face into Dana's neck. I moved our joined hands around her waist and pulled her even closer to me. Her breath was ragged as I nuzzled her neck getting used to the feel of her hair on my face and her scent surrounding me. My hand continued to play at the top of her stocking, dipping under the lace to stroke the skin. Dana's head was hanging down as if she was trying to make believe that this was not happening.

The old Dana would have stopped, would have come up with reasons to escape, and would have given many reasons why this could not happen. Now, I just want more.

"Dana," I whispered. "Look at me. Please."

My plea was cut off by her lips on mine. The kiss was soft and chaste, but there was a hunger in it too. I pulled away from her with a muted groan I wanted to stay there but I had to see her eyes and what was behind them. I focused on her face and was surprised to see her looking at me. Her eyes bore into mine; the level of trust and desire in them made me love her even more. She started to turn and I tightened the hold on her not letting her move.

Close and yet far, not allowing me to turn around and I need desperately to turn around. This could, so easily, become about me taking, but I want to give, oh, I need to give.

"Not yet" I whispered.

I unlaced my hand from hers as I brought it to her neck moving her hair out of the way. My lips attacked the pale skin nipping and sucking at her artery drawing a long sigh from her throat. I couldn't get enough of her; Dana was like my drug of choice. I wanted to make her feel what I was feeling; I ran my hand over her smooth neck and rested it right at the front of her throat. Trailing my fingers down to the first button of her blouse, I started to unbutton the silk as my lips played with her earlobe. The buttons were an easy task but the next step required me to take my hand from her leg, something I did not want to do. I slowly moved my hand away from her thigh and up her now partially uncovered torso. Taking the blouse in my hands I slowly slid it off her body, the room was so quiet I could hear the hiss of the silk against her skin. Now with her shoulders bare and open to me her beauty overcame me. The contrast of her copper hair against her porcelain skin was breathtaking and a sight that I knew would never fade from my memory, whatever the outcome of this night. My hands made twin trails up her torso until reaching her covered breasts; I flicked the catch open and peeled off the bra filling my hands. Her nipples stiffened against my palms as I felt her hands on my hips, her fingers latching on to me as if trying to calm her body.

Hands other than my own on my breasts. God, I'm shaking.

She was shivering, and at first I thought she was cold, but then I realized that I was shivering too. We stood there, neither of us moving both trying to get used to each other's bodies. Her desire to turn and face me came off her in waves, but I couldn't yet face the intensity of her stare. My lips returned to her neck as I slowly started to trace patterns on her breasts. Unsuccessfully Dana tried to hold back her moans and as she arched her body into my shaking hands they vibrated through me rocking me to my core.

"I have dreamt about this," I whispered. "I wondered how you would taste, how you would sound." My tongue traced the shell of her ear as I tried to sound braver than I actually was.

Her breath was hot and sending more shivers up my spine. Her voice, slightly shaky and so honest but ragged, made my insides turn to jelly. I wanted to reply, to say that I had thought of the same thing. That I had been unable to get that night out of mind that I had dreamt about her afterwards. The next night she had invaded my fantasy world and it had felt so damn real I sat up in bed shaking and whispering her name to the darkness. I wanted to confess that a day or two later, when I visited the office and Monica and John were debating about something all I could see were her chocolate brown eyes and all I think was about how it felt when we were dancing. How she'd kissed me, and how I could have had at least one night of happiness and I'd let it slip through my fingers, convinced that I needed some signs of commitment, when in reality I could not give her any promises. I wanted to moan that she haunted me, and our dance together filled up many nights of dreams and frustrated mornings. I wanted to blurt out how I had imagined us together, and I'd thought of her during more than one lonely night, and how I had wound up drenched in sweat, and pleasuring myself while trying to muffle my cries with a pillow. And I wanted to scream that, now that this was happening, that she was so close, I needed to hold her, needed some evidence that it was really happening. That was too complex an idea for my mind to get out.

"God Monica, don't do this," I rasped "I need you, I need to see you." not even sure what I was referring to, just needing to speak. "I need you, I need to see you. Need to hold you, need to feel your body against mine, need to kiss you, need, need, need."

She turned in my arms a delicate hand on my face pulling me into an impossible kiss. I was lost it was the softest, hottest most pure kiss I have ever been a part of. She parted my lips with her tongue, and tracing my upper lip, she slid inside stroking me into action. I surrendered.

Dana's kiss was electric, and I couldn't hold back as she molded our bodies together. For a moment I was stunned into inaction as her heat was transferred to me, but soon it overtook me, consuming me. I broke the kiss and returned to her neck whispering and tasting her. Her scent marked me, drove it's way into my brain. I found myself wanting to possess her, take her into me and make her a part of my soul. I had stood back and waited so long, cursing my timing. Now I wasn't going to wait.

We fit together perfectly. I was only too aware of the fact that I was half-naked and she was still fully dressed. Her lips and hands were bringing sensations to life I had forgotten existed. She licked sensations into my skin and I melted. I was quickly losing any kind of grasp on the situation. This was not about rationality, this was about need. And the side of me calling the shots was one that had been dormant far too long.

"Dana" I whispered into her neck "God you feel so good.I can't stop." I was fighting the battle to slow down and losing.

A wave of warmth spread through my body. I fought back treacherous tears. Had I really come to the point where a simple comment was enough to make me cry? Instead, I held onto her tighter, feeling her lips on just the right part of my neck, biting back a moan as I replied, "I don't want you to," punctuating my comment by pulling up on her T-shirt, feeling her smooth skin under my fingers. She stepped back and slid off the well-worn garment, then she unbuttoned the top button of her jeans and I quickly unzipped my expensive designer pants that I wanted to rip off but I knew I'd regret it in the morning. We slid off our pants and were dressed only in panties. I trembled with desire and nervousness, there was no turning back and this could, I knew, end badly. Monica hooked her thumbs under the waistline and pulled down her small white panties. I followed suit, trying to go by her lead, not really sure what to do next.

With that our remaining clothes were shed. Barriers both physically and emotionally were removed. We stood in the half-light drinking in the sight of each other. Softly we kissed and as the kiss deepened we reached for each other.

We stood naked, face to face. I felt inadequate compared to her perfectly toned and tanned body. Each muscle defined just enough, smooth long limbs, strength evident in just her stance. I saw the way her nipples were one shade darker than her breasts, and hard like mine, her flat stomach and long legs. I felt my stretch marks like branding; those five pounds I couldn't lose after pregnancy were weighing me down. She had the body of a goddess and I thought, well, she must be disappointed in what she sees, but she didn't look disappointed. Her mouth was open slightly and her tongue flicked out briefly. I felt the wetness between my thighs, and we were soon kissing again, hungrier this time, as if all our collective desire was poured into each brush of our lips. I reached out and felt her skin for the first time, the smoothness and slight warmth under my fingertips. I was shocked at the softness, and wanted nothing but to touch all of her. I knew how to get her revved up. I treated her hand like it was another part of her body, and I heard her quick intake of breath as I caressed her finger with my tongue. Someone once told me that for a seemingly uptight medical doctor I had one hell of a talented tongue.

Mesmerized I watched the scene before me half not believing it was happening.

"Oh God, Dana," I growled as she laughed low and slightly evilly. Her eyes rose to meet mine and the desire that I saw made the fire inside me roar to life.

Motherhood hadn't killed off all my sexual capabilities. She tasted sweet, and I longed to know what the rest of her was like. I gazed into her eyes and saw her widened pupils, her face was flushed and her heart was racing.

Jesus God, she was killing me here. Her tongue stroked my finger as her teeth scraped along its length. Her lips were the softest thing that had ever touched my body. I was rapidly losing the ability to be rational; I wanted to consume her body and soul. I needed to feel her against me writhing because my hands and my mouth and my body brought her to that peak. I uncontiously walked her backwards as I slipped my finger from her mouth and replaced it with my lips on hers.

Suddenly, I found myself against the pool table, kissing her like I'd die if she stopped. Her hands were in my hair, I had my hands in her hair, feeling the silky strands against my fingers and her hands started moving down my body, down my back, slipping past where my tattoo used to be and finally grabbing me and lifting me up onto the table. I felt the green felt against my ass, her breasts crushed against mine, we moved slightly and the friction was delicious.

She was light; I never realized she would be so light. I pulled her to me, and before she knew what was happening I had picked her up and moved her onto the table. Our bodies straining to fuse together. I couldn't get enough of her she was invading me and I was on the verge of losing control. My mouth and hands seemed to have brains of their own as they moved over her skin.

Her lips moved to my neck, biting and sucking and I moaned at the loss of contact. One of her hands was doing wonderful things to my breasts and I thanked God that William was and always had been a formula baby, otherwise, things might get messy. I wanted to caress her, make her scream, use all the knowledge I had of the female body both in and out of the classroom to its highest advantage. But I was powerless against her kisses, against her touch, and while in the past I might have taken charge, now it was nice to just feel. I was drowning in sensation, every nerve cell in my body working towards one goal, and that goal was just too far away. Then, I felt one arm snake around my body, holding me close and the other hand slip down to my thigh. Touch me, touch me, touch me, I thought and closed my eyes.

"Dana, what do you want?" I whispered huskily against her skin.

"You. This. Now. "

I gasped as she slid one finger inside me, her breath hot against my neck and I wrapped my legs around her, wanting more contact.

"Monica," I moaned softly, slipping my arms around her neck and holding on.

My name on her lips in a moan made me weak. She has that effect on me. A word, a touch, can make me into a puddle where I stand. I am controlled in my life. I have walls that keep me safe from heartache and harm, but with her they crumble. Her arms were around my neck as if I was her anchor to the ground. The heat of her surrounded my finger as she gripped me, and I felt answering contractions deep in me.

She pulled me even closer and I opened my eyes. She looked at me the whole time as she added another finger and kept up a steady pressure with her thumb. I watched the passion and delight light up her face as she stroked in and out with greater speed.

"No, not like this," I managed to say as she slipped in another finger and we both moaned.

Her thumb sped up, sending little flashes of light in front of my eyes and her expression was so tender I saw her through a sudden veil of tears.

"You're so beautiful," I growled and sped up as both our bodies shook.

Sweat was making her hand slip on my back, I felt my own fingers slick with sweat making it hard to hold onto her. This was getting to the edge and I didn't want it to be like this. I wanted this to be more than a quick fuck on a gaming table.

"No," I whispered again and stilled her hand, bringing it up to rest against my chest, feeling the jackhammer of my own heart.

God please, no, my mind screamed as she stopped me. I need her so much in my life, don't let her pull back from me now. My heart was breaking into a million pieces. I could feel the tears start to fill my eyes.

"I don't want this to be only about me," I said, looking up at her shocked expression.

I was sick of people who were only concerned about my pleasure, what if I wanted and needed to give some in return? This was to be equal or not at all. Our eyes met again and I saw hers shine. I felt a tear slip down my face and I held my hand against her cheek.

"I dreamt about you, too," I admitted and kissed her again, sliding my fingers down her body.

At hearing that from Dana's lips my world righted, the feel of her hand sliding down to me shattered it again. How was I going to be able to be worthy of this woman? She slid her hand from my cheek and into my hair bringing me to her for a kiss that burned me with its intensity. This was real. Dana was in my arms and she wanted this. I broke away from her lips and kissed her cheek as I lay kisses along her jaw. At the feel of her hand cupping me, a moan rose up from me that only served to push her along in her quest. My hands were dancing over her skin trying to pull her further into me. I was rapidly losing the ability to stand. Her hands were taking all the strength from me.

This was much better. Her skin was like silk and I slid my hand down body, over her full breasts, down her flat abdomen feeling it quiver under my fingers, intent on reaching my goal. She was so wet, I wasn't sure what I was doing exactly, it had been so long, but as I brushed my thumb against her and she moaned in that throaty way I knew I was doing something right. I scraped her thighs lightly as I teased her, feeling her grab me tighter and I knew that if someone didn't do something soon we were both going to collapse.

"Dana," I whispered "bed, please?"

A laugh came from her and she pulled back to look at me.

Looks like Monica had the same thought.

"I thought you'd never ask." Her eyebrow cocked a gesture that never failed to take my breath away.

We slowly parted as I helped her down from the table, god I will never be able to look at this table again in the same way. With Dana standing in front of me, I softly kissed her and tucked her into me as we walked in tandem to my bed. I have never been the type to make my bed in the morning, and that fact hit my brain as I switched on the lamp.

I really hope we didn't cause any permanent damage to that table. In that moment,

Monica's arm around my back, pressed in close to her, I felt content in a way that I hadn't in quite a while.

"Oh God Dana I am so sorry, it's a mess in here."

I was looking around the partitioned off corner of my loft that served as my bedroom. Clothes hung from the iron bed frame that I had bought at an estate sale in New Orleans. The sheets, thank Christ, were fresh, just very rumpled. The case had worked its way into my dreams and I had spent many a troubled night tossing and running from monsters in my sleep.

I didn't see what she was talking about, a few clothes out of place, clean sheets. My bedroom was the mess, with the clothes that I kept thinking I'd find time to fold and the rapidly growing pile of dry cleaning. I can't even remember the last time I made my bed.

"Monica, I'm a single working mother. This is a surgical suite compared to my bedroom these days." She laughed.

Her laugh did it. I was at ease again. It was okay. She loved me even if I was a total mess. I drew her face into my hands just staring at her. My thumbs stroking her cheekbones and my eyes boring into her asking all the questions that my brain wouldn't. She saw them and answered by wrapping her hand around my neck and pulling me down for a kiss that said what she couldn't say.

No words were necessary. I didn't want to speak anymore. Just me, just her, just this bed. As I kissed her, I felt all her fears and misgivings take a vacation.

I snaked a hand down her shoulder and onto the smooth expanse of her back to that spot right above the swell of her ass. She allowed me to lower her to the bed as we continued to lose ourselves in each other. I kept reminding myself that this was not just about her pleasure, it was about ours, and as her hands came to me I celebrated the feel of them. I was afraid of hurting her as I lowered myself on the bed so I came to rest by her side. We mapped each other's bodies and watched as we found the secret places that make a woman gasp, arch, cry and moan. Dana's body was fire personified. My fingers burned as I touched her and we both made our separate paths to each other's heat.

She ran her hand slowly from my thigh to my neck, and I mimicked her movements.

Soon though, all planning was out of the window, we were touching whatever we could.

We were so close that we could feel the fine tremors that each touch caused, and I was lost in a world of giving and receiving sensation. It felt like hours that we just lay there, touching and exploring. I felt like we were both going to spontaneously combust.

There were no goals, no set ideas, no time frame, just whatever was happening. Her skin felt hot against my own, her soft sighs and moans only fueled the fire, and I didn't know how it was going to end.

Then, she slid her hand between my thighs and I watched her look of delight as she touched me gently.

I nudged her open and even before I touched her I could feel the passion. Her hand cupped me and I faltered as I bucked into her touch. Trying to regain what composure I had left, I softly traced her, hearing her breath shorten and become shallow. She had me open and so ready for her touch that I didn't know if I was going to be able to stay present in the moment. I fought the urge to just give over to the feeling. I wanted the first time with her to be right. Dana had her face buried in my neck doing wondrous things to me with her mouth and tongue. Tracing my carotid artery from the shoulder to my ear and back again, she seemed to sense that I was powerless against her in all ways.

Oh God, Monica was trying to kill me, I wanted her inside me so badly I could barely breathe but I made my own move, tasting her skin as I gently pressed my palm against her, feeling her clit harden under my touch. Her hand was sending sparks all through my body and I mimicked her movements, rubbing her and teasing her, wanting her to feel what I felt.

I tried to keep my mind on the task at hand as her nimble fingers coaxed my clit out and made it her personal little toy. I had never in all my years felt this way with any of my other lovers; I had always kept a part of myself hidden safe from the harm that I knew would come to me eventually. With Dana that wasn't the case. I couldn't hold back anything from her; I was as naked emotionally as I was physically.

I wasn't afraid, which surprised me, I was only aware of her fingers and her breathing, and almost lost track of what mine were doing. All other thoughts, everything just sort of faded, wiped away in a white-hot burst of something I can't explain.

I could wait no longer; I wanted to feel her so badly. I kissed my way back up her neck and to her mouth, feeling the heat of her against my lips. Looking into her eyes, I saw nothing but trust as I entered her, and oh my god, she felt amazing. It was like we were the same person, melding in a way that I'd never felt before.

She played my body like an instrument. I felt her fingers pause as she kissed her way back to look me in the eyes as she entered me. My hand followed her lead as I slowly pressed into her heat. My body arched as Dana set a rhythm that I tried to match. I couldn't breathe. My mouth hung open. Panting, I locked into her gaze. We were unable to break the gaze as we slowly brought each other to that edge.

This was it, no turning back. All conscious thoughts were starting to go far away and my whole universe consisted of nothing but Monica, and my fingers almost slipped out of her as she sped up and I knew the gaming table was nothing compared to this.

I knew that I was about to fall and all I wanted was Dana to fall with me. I circled her while going deeper and finally hitting that spot that made her tumble. Her body flushed and bucked into me as we went over together. As I kissed her I swallowed her moans and she mine. We stayed gathered into each other until breathing was possible and the tremors had slowed.

I opened my eyes, and looked out at the world. I shook slightly, in a good way, and couldn't have moved if someone paid me a million dollars. Our hearts were still racing; our bodies slick with sweat, and tomorrow felt really far away.

"Dana, are you okay?" I whispered.

After a long moment she lifted her lips to mine and my question was answered. This wasn't a time for words. I couldn't believe that she was in my arms and that fact lulled me to sleep.

I hugged her tighter, but I could not sleep. Insidious thoughts had slipped back into my mind. I lay with my head against her chest, trying to draw comfort from her. I felt fear and guilt surround me like a blanket as I closed my eyes I prayed that I wouldn't have any bad dreams.




I woke with light steaming into my bedroom groaning at the worst way possible to greet the day I dragged myself from the bed and went to pull the shade. Turning I realized that I had woken alone and as I started to the main area of the loft I heard Dana softly speaking. I stopped and grabbed my robe and as I slipped it on I tried not to eavesdrop on her conversation. I didn't want to interrupt her. As I tied the sash I stopped at the doorway, leaning against it.

"Mom. How's William? Great.. Yeah, I worked all night, the case is over. Yeah he's in custody. Uh, Mom, can you keep William today? There are some things that I need to do and I can't leave right now. Wonderful, thanks mom. Yeah we'll be by to get him about 7, is that too late? Monica and me. Okay, I'll see you then, love you, bye.

As I turned off the phone I let my mind wander, this was the morning after. The old Dana would have been gone but with the new day something felt different, I was inwardly congratulating myself on not running, not fearing this possibility.

"We'll be by to get him".the grin on my face threatened to need it's own zip code. When I was sure I could be trusted not to be an idiot in front of her I walked into the room. She was seated on the arm of the sofa staring at the phone in her hand her head bowed slightly as I came up behind her. My hands went to her shoulders and I gently kissed the top of her head.

"Mornin'" I said into her hair just standing there breathing. I felt her body relax against mine and her head tilted up to me, we met in a kiss and as she pulled away her blue eyes met mine.

I looked up at her smiling face and felt her lips against mine; warm and comforting, and I melted a little inside.

"Morning."

I suddenly wanted to kiss her until we were both panting and needy, crawl into her arms and never leave.

I could get used to this, the feel of this woman, her taste. I knew I was in trouble as I felt the desire return with a vengeance, and I wanted to make sure this was not going to explode like a supernova and burn us both. I left her lips and kissed her forehead as I whispered,

"You want a shower?"

Warmth spread through me at her simple words, I reached up and touched her hand, squeezing it lightly. I wanted to say yes more than anything in the world. But there was work, and words I couldn't stop myself from saying. I couldn't lead her on, couldn't let her think that I was as committed as she was, I was unsure, full of conflicting thoughts, and I wanted to give us a chance, but there were things I had to say. All I wanted to do was run into the shower, let the water drench us both, put the shower massage to good use, wind up breathless and draped over each other, and crawl back into bed.

"Monica," I started, and she walked around to sit on the couch next to me.

Oh God, a chill ran through me as I heard her voice. I knew that what she was about to say was going to shatter my heart. Sitting down I steeled myself and hoped that my gut reaction was wrong. Dana slid down the arm of the couch and as she tried to find her words I prayed to the heavens that she was going to at least give us a chance.

I held her hand in my lap and tried to look into her too honest eyes. She was scared, I could tell. So many words swirled in my mind, so many thoughts, and so many needs and desires so many hopes and fears. I wore only her discarded T-shirt and I fought the urge to feel her hand on my bare skin.

"Dana, what's wrong? Please tell me. I can see something is bothering you."

"I'm happy right now."

Relief washed over me at her words, four words that changed the feeling of dread to feelings of hope. The idiot grin returned to my face and I ran the backs of my fingers over her cheek.

"Me too. I was serious about the shower," I whispered as I leaned in closer to her nibbling at her ear, "it has excellent water pressure." I giggled.

It wasn't what I'd meant to say, but the other concerns and thoughts...they could wait. Besides, even opening up that Pandora's box, it was a mistake. I could hear Missy telling me that it was almost always wrong to bring up large issues the morning after a first sexual encounter.

I didn't mean to try to seduce her but the emotions ran rampant, her body was calling to me. I couldn't help myself my hand trailed down her neck and over her breast as I pulled her to me. This was how I wanted to start every day of the rest of my life but I knew that if I said that Dana would run. I knew that she was at war inside herself as to what she wanted and what she was taught was right, she curled into me and rested her head against my shoulder. We sat there in the silence as I rejoiced in the intimacy of this gesture. I was acutely aware that she wanted to talk about this but she didn't know how. I leaned back into the couch taking her with me as I looked into her face.

We looked into each other's eyes for a long time, and I was suddenly afraid at what she might be seeing, what I might be giving away.

"Dana, I know." Dear god let me say the right thing, I prayed. "I've always known, but I think that we could be happy together, if we had the chance."

Of course she would. She was the only one who would speak the truth regardless of the consequences. So unlike me, who was still afraid of what confession might bring. I felt myself start to tear up, and cursed my fragile emotions. Overcome with an emotion that I couldn't explain, couldn't even put into words or feelings. It just washed over me like a wave. I whispered against her shoulder and hugged her tightly,

"I think so too."

Someone, somewhere was looking out for me. I was overjoyed that Dana wasn't able to see my face at that moment her simple sentence changed my world around. She was willing to try, willing to give us, me a chance. Cupping her face in my hand I brought her eyes to mine.

"What do you want Dana?" I asked needlessly.

"I want to hold you in the shower, I want you to come to Quantico with me, I want us to go pick up William and tonight..."

But she was kissing me, and although I didn't know about next week or next month, I knew that at this moment all I wanted was all I said.


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