Stranger In The Night

by trancer

Subject: [ScullySlash] FIC: Stranger In The Night (1/1) Date: Saturday, June 08, 2002 11:40 PM

AUTHOR: trancer michkidd@earthlink.net
RATING: NC-17 for language, and sexual situations between two women. PAIRING: Scully/Reyes
SPOILERS: None.

SUMMARY: Reyes finds a surprise waiting for her at her apartment. A thinly plotted excuse for some hot girl-on-girl nookie!

DISCLAIMERS: Characters of Scully and Reyes are the property of 1013 Productions.


The X-Files

Stranger in the Night

When did walking become so difficult? My feet feel as if they're encased in cement, clunking woodenly on the soft carpet. It's not just my legs. My whole body aches, bones weary. Exhausted. I guess I've always been this way. Poured myself (mind, body and soul) into a case until the point of exhaustion.

It never gets there, though. I never get to the point where my body just stops and I just can't go on anymore. Not yet, anyway. But, I always end up here, weary and tired, ready to recharge myself with a soft bed and merciful sleep.

Time seems to stand still as I fumble with the lock, the metal mocking me. I win, sorta, knocking the door open with my weight. It gives rather than face the prospect of being broken.

It's dark. The shades are drawn tight, only slivers of dusk light seep into my apartment. I'm also not alone. I can feel the presence here in the room with me. My senses sharp, alert. Any thoughts of sleep snapped away in an instant. Twelve years of police training draws my hand to my weapon. Something tickling the back of my brain keeps me from drawing and pointing it into the darkened room.

"Close the door, Monica." A voice commands me from within the darkness. I know the voice, her voice. Have heard it a thousand times, in just as many different tones. But never like this, husky and deep, tinged with something dark.

I do as commanded, suppressing the thoughts rushing through my head. Am I dreaming? Is this real? This could be anything. A case, emergency, precursor to some nice girl talk. Anything besides the deep rooted want burning a fire between my legs and crushing my lungs.

"Voltea." I freeze for just a moment. She's never spoken to me in this manner, in my native tongue. It piques my curiosity and desire more than any late-night fantasy ever has.

"Voltea." The words aren't clunky, or overtly formal like some Berlitz graduate would say them. The words roll naturally from her mouth. My mind catches up with my body and I realize I'm doing as she says, turning myself away from her.

Steps, soft and bare on the hardwood floor, approach me. She's close now, the warmth of her body emanates onto my back. I tense while a blindfold is placed before my eyes. Should I have pulled my gun? Are my desires clouding my instincts? Instincts screaming `flight' in my brain. Apprehension, tension, anticipation courses through me.

She ties the blindfold. Her hand gently enters my jacket, pulling my gun, harness and all, from my belt. She then steps away from me. I can tell by the coolness on my back where she once stood.

"Turn around." She repeats and I comply. The pounding in my chest erases the silence of the room.

"Take off your clothes."

"What?" It's hard to swallow.

"I didn't say talk!" Her voice is stern, tinged with disappointment and anger. "I said take off your clothes."

I disappointed her once. I won't do it again. I shirk out of my jacket, dropping it to the floor. Nervously, my hands fumble with the small buttons of my blouse. Her eyes are on me, inspecting me, measuring me up. My shirt off, and on the floor, I pause wondering if this is enough. She answers me with silence.

Quickly, the rest of my clothes fall to the floor. My only clothing, the soft piece of cloth wrapped around my eyes. She comes to me, softly, deliberately slow. Circling around me, her eyes trail across my skin. I can' t see her, but I can feel her. She's behind me now, so close I can feel her breath on the nape of my neck.

A fingertip barely presses on my back. I gasp at the contact. I've wanted her touch for so long. Dreamt about it a thousand times. A fingertip, the flesh pressed against me barely the size of a pencil eraser, traces down the line of my spine. It moves slowly down, past my back, grazing across the line of my ass.

Her lips kiss the base of my neck, and I reward her with another gasp. She rewards me with the flick of her tongue, suckling the muscle. Her hands begin an exploration of my back. Starting at my shoulders, she works her way down in soft lazy circles, while her mouth continues the mapping of my neck.

I'm breathing harder now, tense and relaxed at the same time. I want to do more. To turn around, touch her, take her right here in my living room. But, these are her rules, her game. I play along willing, keeping thoughts of `more' to myself.

Fingernails graze across my stomach releasing a flutter of butterflies. Her other hand caresses my ass, gliding between my legs. The moan that escapes my throat is low guttural. I spread my legs open just a little wider. The desire creeping down my thighs wets her fingers.

She removes her hand from between my legs. My body screams in frustration. She's in front of me now, her hands on my breasts, cupping them, kneading, pinching my nipples hard enough to make me hiss.

Arms wrap around my waist and we're pulled closer. I can feel her body against mine and the realization hits me like a punch to the stomach. Between the two of us, the only one wearing any clothing is me and that's just a small scrap of cloth wrapped around my eyes.

My heart hammers faster. I feel dizzy. I've never felt dizzy from desire before. I like it. It's intoxicating. Her lips are on my collarbone, suckling and exploring. I wait apprehensively, feeling her lips make their way up my neck. Enjoy the hands on my back.

"I want you Monica Reyes." She whispers huskily.

Then, our lips meet. Softly at first, she teases me, grazing her flesh against mine, making me want it. I do. I want her so bad it hurts. She flicks her tongue across my lips, tastes my breath. My breathing quick and jagged on her tongue. Then, she takes me. Takes my mouth, pressing her lips against mine. Our mouths open, tongues dancing, tasting each other.

We pull up for air, gasping against each other's face. She goes in again, planting a trail of kisses on my jaw, working her way towards my ear. I can feel her lips there, soft and supple, teasing my earlobe with her tongue.

"But, I'm not going to make love to you, Monica." She explains. For a moment, my body tenses in confusion. She wouldn't take me to this point just to tease me, would she? She couldn't be that cruel. Could she?

"I'm not going to have sex with you. Or all those other tender, sweet things lovers do. Oh no, do you want to know what I'm going to do?"

I shake my head clumsily.

She leans in closer, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm going to fuck you, Monica Reyes. All. Night. Long."

My body trembles, hard. It takes me a moment to realize I'm coming. Sure, it was just a minor quake, but a quake nonetheless, caused solely by the sound of her voice. She wants me. Wants me as badly as I've ever wanted her. Just the acknowledgment enough to send me over the edge.

I surrender to her. Faster than I'd ever dreamed.

She takes my hand, pulling away from me as she guides me into the bedroom. I hear the sounds of the mattress squeaking as she gets onto the bed. She guides me closer, my legs thumping against the edge. But, I don't join her. From her warmth, I can tell she's sitting on the edge, with me standing between her legs.

"On your knees." I don't hesitate, just drop. Her scent fills my nostrils and for the first time, I'm cursing this damn blindfold. I want to see her, to see the desire on her face, on her skin, on the delicate folds displayed before me.

"Please." I beg, hands reaching for the blindfold.

"No!" She swats my hand away. "Do that again and I just might have to punish you." She says in a manner that's more come-on than admonishment.

Her hand in my hair, I can feel her pulling me towards her, towards her center.

"Make me come."

If this is punishment, I'm going to be a bad little girl for a VERY long time. My arms wrap around her thighs, pulling her close. I dive in, no pause, no hesitation, licking the warm, heated and very wet skin offered to me. She moans. A delicious sound, low and throaty, sends shivers down my spine. I moan into her. Push her open with tongue and lips.

Her hips thrust wildly in time with the movements of my tongue. Her hand snakes into my hair. Grabbing my head, she pushes herself harder onto me, driving my tongue deep into her. I push my tongue as far as it will go, muscles straining.

The spasms are hard, quick. A wild bucking motion. Muscles contract around my tongue. Legs clamp around my head. I keep driving, stabbing my tongue into her, pushing her over the edge until the quakes stop and she collapses back onto the bed. I pull away slightly, kissing the inside of a thigh. Her hand makes its way into my hair again.

"Don't stop." A weak and sated voice calls from the lump on the mattress. I comply, gently and slowly licking her folds. Nectar, juices, honey, whatever the trendy word is these days, I lick every drop she has to give. I could stay here all night, forever, tasting her, pleasuring her. To Hell with the desire burning between my own legs, this, right here, is heaven.

"Stand up." The voice in my ears doesn't register. "Stand up!"

I do as instructed. Hands on my hips, she pulls me close to her. I dare to cup her face with my hands, pulling my self to her for another kiss. The kiss is slow, leisurely. When we pull up for air, she chuckles softly.

"I didn't tell you to do that, did I?"

"No," I flick my tongue across her lips. "I guess you're just going to have to punish me."

And she does. Her fingers pinch my nipples, hard. My body jolts, the fire between my legs doused with kerosene. Her lips surround a nipple. Slick and wet. A new torture to tease me with. Fingers and lips alternate between my breasts, taking turns. Sucking, tweaking, pulling. My body's a live wire, humming with want. The ache between my legs is unbearable. I shift my weight, trying to ease the pressure. Her teeth nibble the sensitive flesh. A symphony of teeth, lips and tongue played against my nipple.

"Not yet."

I'm pulled onto the mattress, then rolled onto my back. She's atop me, kissing my lips hungrily, wet and sloppy, forceful and commanding. A thigh slides between my legs. The flesh teases me with the possibility of contact. I shift my hips up. Anything to feel her against me. My efforts dashed as she presses her weight onto me.

Straddling me, her wetness slick against my thigh, she starts to grind. Torture. Her body so close, moving against me, but not where I want. Where I need.

Her lips trail down my neck. Between my breasts, she kisses her way across the terrain of my stomach. I arch into her. My body writhes under her restraint. I can't take much more. Can feel the edge drawing closer, beckoning me to fall over. Only, she keeps holding me back. Keeps me from the abyss, teases and tortures me with kisses and caresses. She slows her motions.

"You like this?" She giggles into my flesh. Mouth dry, all I can do is nod.

"What about this?" A hand presses against my center, hard. My body convulses, bowing into her. Then, just as quickly, the contact is gone. And I'm left panting, dying for more.

The bed shifts. Her weight, her presence moves away from me. My body hums. A craving, deep inside, wanting her near, needing her.

Below the thumping of my heart, I can make out sounds in the room. The zipping of a heavy bag. The shifting of contents. The soft clanking of metal.

I can hear her, feel her standing over me, next to the bed.

"Open your legs." My body performs on command. "Wider. I want to see you."

I spread my legs open, lifting my knees, exposed and open to her. She climbs onto the bed, between my legs. Fingernails scrape the insides of my thighs. Tomorrow will definitely be a `no skirt' day.

She leans in close. I can feel her hovering over my skin, breath hot and heavy on the throbbing folds of skin between my legs. I feel the tiniest bit of pressure, wetness, on me. Her tongue. She traces the line of my lips, careful not to touch the swollen clit throbbing millimeters from her. My stomach twitches in anticipation.

Suddenly, she laps my folds, eagerly and quickly. Careful to avoid contact with my hardened nub. Knowing one lick, one touch will send me over the edge. Two fingers enter me, still inside me, allowing me to adjust to the width. Need takes over. My hips rock, thrusting onto her. She quickens the pace, faster, driving into me. Her lips wrap around my clit. A deep suction triggers a wave of shivers across my body. A flick of the tongue and I'm sent over the edge, body bucking and writhing. Sparks explode under the dark canvas of my eyelids. Air rushes out of my mouth in a carnal growl before everything turns black, all cognitive thought is lost and I'm nothing but a quivering pile of flesh on the bed.

I'm not sure how much time has passed. The first thing I'm aware of are hands, her hands, one on my thigh, the other on my side, rolling me over. What little energy I have is used for her. The sudden realization that when she said `All night long', she meant it. And this is just the beginning.

Her hand cups my mound, massages the still tingling flesh. Coaxing me down and turning me on simultaneously. She plants kisses on my ass. Takes tiny nips with her teeth, receives another moan for her effort.

"Has anyone done this to you before?"

"Done what?"

She answers by grazing her tongue across my anus. My body jerks in surprise at the sensation. I can feel a wave of heat surging from my groin.

"Raise your hips." I comply. I ache to have the blindfold removed. To see her. See the lust in her eyes. The flush of her skin. As if reading my thoughts, she swats my ass with her hand.

"Nu-uh, no peeking."

More kisses. Now working their way up my spine. I feel something between my legs, turgid and smooth, exploring the surface of my folds. It takes a moment to realize what it is, what she wants to do to me. But, there is no thought really, only desire. A desire to please her and be pleasured by her.

My hips raise in acceptance. She growls seductively at my compliance, parts my folds and enters me. I'm not one for `accessories' but it fits me. She fits me. Perfectly. We find our rhythm, fueled by heat, desire, I take her, everything she has to give. And she gives me her all, deep, quick thrusts building in intensity.

I grip the sheets. Bite the pillow. Push my body into each of her thrusts. The bed rocks, head board slamming against the wall. She bites my shoulder, marking me as hers.

"Eres muy bonita." She pants into my ear. "Say it, say my name."

"Dana." Pours out of my mouth in a hurried whine. She moans, pants into my ear. She's as close as I am. Her hand slides under me, between my legs. Fingers pressed hard against my clit, she pumps wildly, matched in intensity with her thrusts.

I thought I'd found the bottom of the abyss. I was wrong because I'm careening over again. Only this time, I'm not alone. She's with me. Our bodies writhe, shudder, twitch into each other. Together, we plunge over the edge. A heap of flesh collapsed on the bed. No `after glow' snugglies for me. Just the warm comforting blackness of sleep and Dana's arms.


I awake in a haze. It could be hours, days, years later for all I know. The first sensation is exhaustion. Not the exhaustion of the weary but the sexually content. The kind of soreness and bone weary exhaustion that can only come from sex. Good sex. No, scratch that, Great Sex.

Finally, I pull the blindfold from my eyes. The door to the bathroom is slightly cracked, a sliver of light the only illumination. I glance at the clock. 5:22. I wonder which lasted longer, sleep or sex?

The space next to me is empty. There are no clothes tossed about. No evidence that she was ever here except for the wistful sighs of my muscles and a dull ache between my legs.

Rolling onto my stomach, I stretch my body languidly.

"Now there's a sight I could never get tired of." Surprised, I turn towards her. She's leaning against the doorway, a pint of ice cream in her hands. She's wearing one of my shirts. Unbuttoned, the fabric hangs loosely from her frame, showing the inside of her cleavage.

"You didn't think I was going to leave, did you?"

"I don't know what to think. Maybe this is all a dream and I'm still asleep."

"A dream, huh?" She crosses the room to the edge of the bed. On her knees, she straddles my legs, inching her way up my body.

"Is this a dream?" She takes my left hand and places it, palm up, between her legs. She smiles seductively at me. I slide my middle finger into her and she gasps. The expression on her face sends a wave of heat between my legs.

"God, I hope not." Our lips connect and she giggles into my mouth. We move as one removing my shirt from her body. And I get to see her for the first time.

"Dana?"

"Mmm."

"This time, can we leave out the blindfold."

She gives me that smile again, seductive and playful. A Cheshire cat grin, if a Cheshire were a petite redhead with an affinity for making me weak in the knees.

"Of course," She reached behind the pillow, the glint of metal unmistakable in the scarce light in the room. "This time, we're using handcuffs."

The End


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