DISCLAIMER: X-Files, Mulder, Scully and all related characters belong to that amazing person called Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen Productions and the Fox Network. I mean no infringement. I am just borrowing the characters briefly to have a play, to see what I can do with them while CC isn’t watching. He can have them back anytime he likes.
CATEGORY: ST and MSR themes.
RATING: NC-17
SPOILERS: None really, but I assume you have seen most episodes up to and including season six. Watching Scully snap at Mulder in 'Bad Blood' fueled the choice of dialogue in this story.
NOTE: Well, this story is a piece of fluff. I had a long week at work, and spent the last hour bending over. My lower back started aching, and I suddenly wondered how Scully could spend so many hours bent over the autopsy table. As I stretched to release the tension, this story popped into my mind, and on the drive home I had it mapped out and felt like writing it down. It is a stand-alone, could be fitted into anywhere, but really fits in no-where. (hehe)
TITLE: Autopsy This.
AUTHOR: Triton
DATE: October 1999
triton-x@yahoo.com
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Scully felt the tight pain in her lower back and groaned. Bending over the autopsy table for the past few hours had caused her muscles to tighten and now they were protesting with a vengeance. She slowly straightened, sighing in relief as sensation returned along her torso. She rolled her head back, then side to side, feeling light headed as the blood rushed freely. Looking up at the clock, she understood why she was feeling particularly dizzy - it had been 6 hours since she had started this autopsy, and 10 hours since she had last eaten.
Looking back down at the open cavity in front of her, she grimaced. What once had been a breathing, living human being had been reduced to an empty shell. All the organs, blood vessels, bone and cartilage had been either eaten away by the acidic toxin, or had been removed by her for dissection and testing. Her gloved hands were smeared with the red sticky matter, pieces of plasma, tissue, muscle, and mucous. Her standard autopsy garb, the white overshirt, apron and baggy pants, were also splattered with pieces of dead human visceris.
Scully sighed again, and looked back up at the clock. She frowned, wondering where Mulder was, and why he hadn’t brought her down some nourishment. Looking down at the body again, she grinned cheekily as she realised that he probably didn’t want to be confronted by this scene. He had courage, bravery and nerves of steel, but still baulked at watching a complete autopsy. She reached across the body, and dragged the plastic sheet up over the corpse. She would finish cleaning this up later, right now she wanted to clean herself up, find Mulder and go out and find food. In that order.
As she stepped over to the sink, she heard the door creak open.
"Hey, Scully, how’s it going in there? Finished slicing and dicing yet?" he bantered from across the room.
"All done, Mulder. I’m just going to clean up, then we can find somewhere to eat." She leaned tiredly over the sink, resting her hands against the steel surface, head rolled forward, sighing again as the bones in her neck all clicked back into place. Suddenly she felt warm hands on her shoulders, and she jumped in fright at the unexpectedness of it.
"Shit, Mulder, you scared me!"
"Sorry, Scully," Mulder murmured, "you look tired. Are you OK?"
"I’m fine, Mulder," she grinned to herself. "I’ve been bent over that body for too long, that’s all. I’m stiff and sore."
Mulder moved his hands to her neck and began kneading gently. "So, what did you find? Was it the toxin?"
Scully leant into the soothing strokes. "Yes it was. I’ve sent samples over to the lab. We’ll find out tomorrow whether the chemical structure correlates with our previous victims." Scully closed her eyes, enjoying the gentle massage, feeling her trapezius muscles relax. She became aware of the heat from his body behind her, could smell his very ‘Mulder’ scent, and subconsciously she moaned. Mulder hesitated briefly, then pulled away.
Scully stiffened and turned abruptly to him. "Why did you do that, Mulder, why did you pull away? I’ve been bent over that table for six hours, immersed in blood and guts. A little relief from the cramps is an appealing thought, yet you make it seem like we were doing something unacceptable!" With resignation she sagged, and wiped her weary eyes in the crook of her elbow. "I’m getting so tired of this ‘boundaries’ thing we keep skirting around. It is OK to touch me, Mulder, I’m not going to snap your head off."
"Sorry, Scully. I just thought...... I don’t.......I just wanted....to make you feel better."
Scully snorted and turned back to the sink and leaned over to turn on the tap. Mulders hands tentatively resumed their gentle massage over her fatigued neck. He worked his fingers deeply into the muscle, working slowly down her back. As he reached her lower spine, Scully raised her arms, stretching high to stretch out all the now loosened muscles. The sensation was dizzying, and she momentarily lost balance, and she fell back onto his chest for support. Mulder’s hands rested briefly on her hips, steadying her. She looked up at him to thank him, and caught the unguarded look in his eyes. Realisation hit her suddenly.
"Oh my God, Mulder, this does mean more to you!"
Mulder swallowed uncomfortably. "Yes it does," and he looked at her intently. "But I have it under control, Scully. Your comfort is more important to me than anything else."
Scully was overcome with a mixture of feelings, initially confusion, some gratitude, lots of intrigue and a glimpse of personal curiosity. Blinking, she tore her eyes from his intense and embarrassed look, she stepped forward towards the sink. There was a long period of silence, where neither of them moved, or seemingly breathed.
"Mulder."
"Scully?"
"If you were able to lose that control and do what you wanted, what would you do?"
Mulder was quiet for a long moment. "Well, Scully, I can’t really tell you that. I consider you my best friend and my partner. I don’t want to spoil that."
"But I am asking. If you had the choice to do whatever you wanted right now, what would you do?"
"Scully!"
"Well, Mulder, if I don’t ask, I’ll never know. We don’t talk much about ‘us’, and I thought maybe this may be...Oh just forget it!" Her wistful tone died down to a resigned grunt.
Mulder stepped back from her. "Just go back to what you were doing, Scully. Clean up and we’ll go and get some food, and maybe we’ll talk about it then."
Scully sighed yet again, and turned back to the sink, again reaching forward with her gloved hands to turn on the faucet. With a start she felt Mulders hands rest on her neck again, and she stopped her movements in restrained anticipation. Mulder worked his way down her back, using his thumbs in circular movements to release the tension down her spine. She closed her eyes, focusing on the renewed sensations, becoming unaware of anything else at all, totally lost in the feeling of his hands moving along her back through the thick cotton shirt.
This time he didn’t stop there, his hands continued to massage her lower back but worked out and up her external abdomen. Slowly and firmly he kneaded upwards towards her armpits, then pulled her back into his embrace, lifting her arms above her head. He ran a fluttering stroke up the length of each arm and back down again. Scully felt light headed and quite aroused, but determinably held all her delighted moans within, knowing that the slightest noise from her may falter his concentration and interrupt his administrations.
Aware of the soiled gloves, and not wanting to accidentally smear his clean clothing, she continued to hold her arms above her head. Knowing that she couldn’t touch him aroused her more, and she silently bit on her lips to prevent this becoming audible to him. His warm solid body was pressed against her back, and every part of his body that touched her was discharging electric impulses, inflaming her, igniting her.
Mulder’s fingers wandered lazily back down to her waist, then slipped deftly under her shirt tails, massaging gently in small circles, moving gradually up her ribcage, tickling her warm skin. Scully concentrate hard on controlling her breathing, very aware of the blood pounding and rushing around her ears, and of the flush forming across her face. His fingers brushed cautiously along the edge of her bra, and he sagged slightly against her back, snuggling into her neck and releasing the smallest of sighs.
Mulder paused slightly, as if gauging her reaction, not knowing whether to stop or not. Scully made no move nor protest. There was no way she was willing to stop this now. Mulder resumed the massage, and daringly moved up over her bra, gently brushing her nipples and the skin of her breasts not encased by the silky fabric, but not stopping on the journey up to her scapula. His long fingers stroked the delicate skin around her throat and neck, then began their descent back down her body, again only grazing over her stiffened nipples, tenderly pressing on her abdomen and circling her navel.
Scully felt his hot breaths quicken on her neck and she found she was matching them as Mulder slipped his hands under the elastic of the baggy pants, and as he caressed the skin over her belly and hips. The journey seemed to take an eternity to Scully, but eventually she felt his fingers running along the top edge of her underpants, then over the silky fabric and down to the top of her thighs. He stroked the fabric as he explored the surface of the underwear, following the outline of their edges. As his fingers encountered the warm damp patch of fabric, he moaned out loud, and Scully uncontrollably reciprocated, her arousal evident and unable to be hidden any longer.
With more urgency now, Mulder deliberately pressed his fingers against the gusset of the damp underwear, against her encased labia, his palm resting firmly upon her clitoris. With slow caressing movements, his hand slid back and forth over the sleek fabric. Splaying his fingers, he caught up a few tangled curls that had strayed out of their confinement and tugged playfully. He tickled at the sensitive skin at the top of her inner thighs.
Scully felt a tightness pulling at her from within, and experienced an uncontrollable urge to rock her hips in rhythm to his caress. She pushed herself hard into his cupped palm, which in the world of cause and effect resulted in a steady increase of pressure and movement. His fingers pulsated, and moved, and rubbed, and twitched and slid until Scully felt the heated inferno rush from her groin to shoot through her blood stream, tingle through every nerve ending and cause stars to burst in front of her eyes.
Scully melted at this point, sagging against his chest, and she took in a deep breath, inhaling the strong musky scent that had radiated from between them. Mulder withdrew his hands from beneath her outer clothing, wrapped them snugly around her body, and held her tight. Neither offered a word, but their breathing was heavy and filled with implicit relief.
Once their breathing had returned to normal, and Scully had recomposed herself, she stepped out of the embrace and turned to face him. Within the intense look they shared, a message was sent, an agreement was made. No words were spoken. No eye contact had been made during the preceding interlude, they had not seen each other’s face, and neither had outwardly exposed the raw emotion that they had experienced. It was not the ‘real thing’ and they had not yet crossed that line. It was enough for now.
Her eyes were bright, her face still flushed. He grinned at her sheepishly. She grinned back unabashedly, and rolled her shoulders, relishing the lack of stress and tension through her back. He reached out and gently touched her cheek.
"Scully, you asked me what I would do if I was able to lose control, if I had the choice to do whatever I wanted right now. Well, that is what I would do." He grinned sheepishly at her again, then turned and walked towards the door.
"I’ll see you upstairs once you have cleaned up. Ok, Scully?" he said.
"Sure thing, Mulder" she replied, smiling fondly after him. She turned back to the sink and pulled off the disposable gloves with a resounding ‘snap’. She stared at them briefly, then smiled secretly, wondering whether she would be able to wear gloves again without flushing.
END.
