========================================================================== NOTICE: - Deslea's URL is now http://www.deslea.com or http://fiction.deslea.com. - Email address is now email@example.com. - May be archived by Scully/Skinner specialty archives only. This information supercedes all other information found in this file. ========================================================================== Someone I Trusted II: The SSR File *NC17* 1/1 Deslea R. Judd firstname.lastname@example.orgemail@example.com Copyright 1997 DISCLAIMER This work is based on The X Files, a creation of Chris Carter owned by him, Twentieth Century Fox, and Ten-Thirteen Productions. All characters mentioned remain the intellectual property of those parties and are used without their consent and without commercial gain. Spoilers: One Breath, Blessing Way, Paper Clip. Category: Vignette, Romance-ish (ie erotica) (Skinner/Scully). Rating: NC17 for sex. Summary: Sequel to Someone I Trusted, in which Scully and Skinner had sex just before Mulder's return from the dead in Blessing Way. This is the Scully-Skinner version sequel, in which Scully and Skinner discuss their coupling and decide to try again. There is an alternate MSR version sequel (Someone I Trusted II: The MSR File) coming. You don't need to have read the first to appreciate this, but it's recommended. Fan mail is always appreciated!!! My e-mail is firstname.lastname@example.orgemail@example.com. Archivists, feel free to add this to your collections; but be sure to let me know. This and my other stories may be found at http://home.primus.com.au/drjudd (shameless plug). Someone I Trusted II: The SSR File *NC17* 1/1 Deslea R. Judd firstname.lastname@example.orgemail@example.com Copyright 1997 Scully stared up at the sign which announced to the desert, //Charlotte's Diner...Home Cooked Meals//. She studied it rather more intently than was really necessary...after all, Skinner wondered, how much information could one really divine from the words? Mulder had made his decree half an hour ago. He had told them that the decision of whether or not to hand over the data tape in exchange for their safety was up to Scully. He had walked out on them, obviously upset. In an attempt at reconciliation, Scully had followed him, told him, "I told Skinner to make the deal, but not to hand over the tape until you agreed to it." Mulder had not responded to this as well as she had hoped. "I don't know if I can do that," he'd said quietly. She had just held his gaze, waiting. Finally, he'd continued. "I need to think about this, Scully." Scully had opened her mouth to protest that there was no time, that she had to return to Georgetown to see Missy, when she had seen the look in his eyes. This was non- negotiable. She shut her mouth and nodded. "Okay," she'd agreed. "But Mulder?" she'd gone on tentatively. Mulder halted her with his hand. "I won't take too long. I promise." With that, he had stalked off into the desert, leaving her and Skinner alone outside the diner. It was the first time they'd been alone together since Mulder's apartment, and Skinner could well understand her unease. He wasn't especially at ease himself. They were silent for some moments before Scully spoke, still facing that stupid sign. "I'm sorry about before. I don't know what I was thinking." Her voice seemed to come from far away, and from behind her, he could see the stiffness of her shoulderblades. "What happened between us in Virginia was all wrong." Skinner's eyes flickered. "You wish it hadn't happened," he realised. He couldn't quite keep the pain from his voice. It was only a faint tremor, but she caught it. She winced, aware of her responsibility for it. She was silent for a long moment, before she said softly, "I wish it hadn't happened like that." She paused. "What we did - it's not something that belongs between people who are afraid of one another. And it definitely has no place between people when one of them has a gun held on the other." Her brow furrowed, as she wondered whether she needed to tell him - then realised that she had to. "I didn't mean to force you, Walter. I wouldn't have shot you for not co-operating. The gun was to keep me safe, not to to hurt you." Skinner gave a low chuckle. "I know that, Scully." He used her surname in a way that seemed intimate, not distant. "You're not a killer. And I was more than willing. I'd been willing for a long time." He cleared his throat. "I won't deny that it seemed 'all wrong' to me, too; for the reasons you state. But you didn't force me." She bowed her head in acceptance of this. Shyly (and Scully was stunned to recognise his shyness as such), he said in a low voice behind her, "We're not afraid of one another now - are we?" She smiled faintly, reluctant to acknowledge the sudden beating in her chest. Surely he wasn't going where she thought he was going? "No. No, we aren't." She breathed out raggedly in spite of herself, suddenly recalling his touch. "I trust you," she said in a low voice, turning her face towards him. He touched her shoulder with his fingers. She could barely feel it through her jacket, but she could sense it, and somewhere deep inside herself, something moaned. She swallowed hard, blocking the sound before it was uttered with difficulty. Scully arched her neck slightly as he leaned in as though to kiss her, but he bypassed her lips. She could feel his breath next to her ear as he said, "We could make things right." She felt her eyes turn dark at the hypnotically persuasive voice. "Yes," she heard herself saying, "I want that." She fought to keep her breathing even. How could he do this to her with barely a touch? Suddenly, he broke away and stormed off towards the car. She followed in confusion. "What? Walter, what?" She caught up with him and took his arm. He shook his head. "I don't want to talk about it. Forget this happened." He pulled away. How could he do this? They could still go back to things as they were - if they went back now. Yes, they'd had sex in a moment of madness. But this was premeditated. More importantly, it was making love. They could never turn back if they did this. She laughed outright at that. "Forget this? Forget what you do to me? Forget //you?// Walter, that's the joke of the century. I've never felt like this before." She understood his reasoning in the back of her mind, but it seemed laughable in the face of the radical impact he had on her - //all// of her, not only body but soul. "It's just sex," he said flatly, though he didn't believe it. "You'll find the feeling with someone else. Mulder could give it to you. He wants you, we both know that." That thought made him bleed somewhere deep inside. Scully and Mulder. Because Mulder loved her, and in some way Scully loved him. "It is not just sex, and I don't want Mulder," she insisted calmly. "It's you, and I want you." He looked at her in surprise, his face a question mark. She gave a little shrug. "What happened between us in Virginia made me remember the woman I used to be, back before the X Files took over everything I am. The X Files is me, and I am the X Files; but that's not all I am, or all I want, or all I love. Virginia made me remember what it was to see someone and ache, or to feel your breath catch in your throat just because a person is, not because of anything particular they do. And that wasn't Mulder, or even the sex. It was you touching my chin and my cheek that made me remember." She turned him to face her, and he complied unwillingly. She stroked his cheek with her palm, cradling it. "Like this," she whispered. Skinner could feel his reserve crumbling and his blood running cold. He felt as though he were shedding a skin...naked, vulnerable. He reached up to his cheek and caught her hand, holding it still. "Don-" he breathed. "Don't." He could feel his control slipping. Scully ran her thumb over his mouth, smiling to herself as he moaned ever so faintly. And yet there was a little pang of pain there, too. Because she knew that she could go no further. It was up to him to make the next move - to consent. She felt a terrible ache in her breast, needing so badly to touch him and knowing she could not. "Do I need to pull my gun again?" she teased with a little laugh, trying to break the stalemate. The sweet sound of her voice made him think his eardrums would burst from the sheer pleasure of hearing it. He regarded her for a long moment, his hold disintegrating. Feeling the tension in his forehead crumble, he sighed, "That won't be necessary." He gave her a small and very sweet smile. "Oh, Dana." He stroked her hair back from her face. Scully felt suddenly giddy with barely suppressed longing. "Come with me." She took his hand. She led him to the back of the diner, up some stairs, to a hallway of doors which obviously represented Charlotte's guest rooms. She opened the door numbered 3. Skinner entered ahead of her, expecting greasy-spoon accommodation at its worst. He was pleasantly surprised. Despite the heat, there was a cool breeze flowing through the windows. The room was light and airy, and the linen was white and crisp. He gave a small smile of thanks to the fates and watched as Scully deliberately locked the door behind them. "I think this used to be her daughter's room or something," Scully said with a grin, leaning against the door. "Mulder's is vile." "Serve him right," he rejoined, smiling faintly, but his expression fell, became introspective. Scully just watched, and waited. Finally, he said with something oddly like pain, "I love you, Scully. I have for a long time...maybe even before you were gone." Her smile faded at the reference to her abduction six months before. "We've been through too much to play mind games now." She betrayed no reaction as she leaned against the door, watching him. "So...it's cards on the table time?" she asked. "Something like that." She hesitated, then said slowly, "Walter, I'm a scientist. Scientists don't like to use words like love. It scares us. It makes us remember we don't really control the world." "It scares anyone," he retorted gently. Scully acknowledged the truth of this with a slight nod. "I can only tell you what you make me feel, Walter." She gave a helpless little shrug. "That's all I can give you right now." Skinner asked in a low voice, "What do I make you feel, Scully?" He approached her tentatively, stopping about four inches away. Scully breathed out, raggedly. "You make me feel giddy just by standing there. You make me feel hunger...need. I look at you and feel like my heart is going to burst inside my chest. I see this person of inestimable value - a value that I don't even know how to understand, let alone express or explain. I trust you, not just because you've proven to be trustworthy, but because you make me feel safe. And I want to be closer than I've ever been to any man in my life. What you make me feel I've only ever felt for Mulder...yet I need you more than I've ever needed Mulder. I've never needed to touch Mulder, but you..." she trailed off helplessly, horribly aware she had told more than she'd ever admitted to herself. She'd done that before, with Jack Willis, and he'd used it against her to have power over her...but would Skinner do that, Skinner, who swore he loved her? Surely not. She realised her hand was raised to his neck, but not quite touching it...matching gesture to her words. She needed to touch him so badly. He took her hand in his and raised it to his cheek, and she ran it over his face, like a blind person memorising its every curve. He closed his eyes with a slight moan, his head hanging limply atop his neck, his joints suddenly loose. She stood up on her toes and laid a gentle, brushing kiss on his lips. And then all hell broke loose. It was like flicking a switch. He clasped her in his arms, plunging his hands into her hair. He searched her mouth, claiming it for himself, his tongue dancing with hers. He could feel her breath coming in short gasps as she responded to him with agonising need. She clutched at his back, his shoulders, their kisses frantic. She hurriedly unbuttoned his shirt, her fingers trembling, and dragged it off his shoulders, dropping it and discarding her own jacket in the space of seconds. He pulled her blouse over her head, dropping it, forgotten. With shaking hands they fumbled with one another's trousers, each pair falling to the floor at the same time. They fell in a heap on the bed, Scully's arms and legs wrapped tightly around Skinner, drawing him to her, him dragging her bra over her head after a brief, exasperating battle with the clasps. She could feel his hardness, curiously restrained by his briefs, straining against her own panties; and she strained downward, intuitively trying to open herself to him. She felt the spot of moisture on his briefs mingling with her own as she arched her back, pushing her hips furiously against his. God knew, she loved to be loved, to be made love to slowly, lazily; but there was a primal part of her that wanted only to be filled, to join with him, to scream "God damn you, now, NOW!" - it was the same part that wanted to fulfill some neanderthal destiny, to fuck, to give birth, to die; the part that cared nothing for the X Files, for Mulder, for safe sex, for career or even love. And then something happened for Scully, some radical shift. The primal beast surrendered to her humanity, not gone but merely subdued; and suddenly her caresses grew slow and wonderous. She pulled back from his kisses and very gently kissed him all over his face - his forehead, his nose, his eyelids and cheeks and chin. Skinner moaned her name, stroking her hair back from her face, nuzzling her ears, her throat. He bathed the little indentation at the base of her neck and then blew on it, tickling her with his breath. He ran his palms over her neck, shoulders, and arms, sending tingles up and down her body. He worked his way down to her breasts, where he took first one nipple, then the other between his lips. He sucked lightly for a moment, bringing them to life; then took each one between his teeth with just enough pressure to rotate it, without biting. Scully shuddered beneath his mouth, her hand coming down to caress his head and neck. Her legs spread wider beneath his body, and his hands drifted lower. As Skinner dipped his tongue into her navel and ran his palms over the dip of her hips, she reached behind him and pushed his briefs down over his ass, then forward to ease them over his cock. She took it between her slender palms, unable to see it from where she was but feeling its warmth and its unmistakeable hardness. He raised his body from her and stood at the bedside, allowing his briefs to fall, and put his hands on her hips to grasp her panties. She raised her buttocks and allowed him to slide them out from under her. He cast them aside and once again knelt over her, then lowered his body to hers. Once again, she could feel his cock against her vulva. This time, he eased it up and down the length of her, lazily stroking her clitoris with it. She pressed down hard against him, kissing him deeply, as though she could compensate for the coupling which had not yet occurred by joining with him at the mouth. He moaned against her mouth, his hands cupping her breasts, before he sat back and lay down between her legs. He watched her for a long moment, an almost amused look on his face. He dipped a finger inside her, then licked it with a mischievous grin. Scully gave a wide smile and held out her hand. Surprised, he dipped it inside her again and allowed her to take his hand in her own. She raised it to her lips and sucked from his fingers her own juices with an intrigued expression. Skinner felt his heart start to leap around in his throat. "If I have a stroke, Scully, I'm suing for malpractice." She gave a low chuckle. With a trembling sigh and a futile attempt to keep himself under control, he lowered his head and very slowly and thoroughly licked her there, lazily circling her clitoris and feeling the soft even bump harden and grow. He put his mouth squarely over it and very gently sucked it between his teeth, taking care not to hurt her. He lapped at it, then dipped his tongue lower and slid it inside her. She gave a low, gutteral moan of delight. He stayed there, moving slowly and luxuriously, until he heard her sighs peak and then slow. He came up to kiss her, her own juices on his lips. She kissed him eagerly, rolling him over onto his back. She sat astride his hips, his cock nestled between her legs, and rocked back and forth, grinding her warmth against his hardness, probing his mouth with a searching, inquisitive tongue. Breaking away, she moved back away from him, sitting between his knees. She flashed him an exquisite smile, then lowered her head. She ran her tongue over the underside of his cock in a straight line from base to tip, circling the tiny opening at the head, coating it with the clear, salty fluid there. He moaned slightly as she probed the head with the soft pad of her tongue. She gave a faint smile of adoration, something she'd never felt about a man's body before. Reverently, she bowed her head and took him into her mouth, her hands linking with his, seeking only to please him. She nuzzled the base of the head with her tongue, laughing softly at the jerking response she received. She grazed her teeth very gently along the length of him, sucked him first harder then softly, and planted a kiss on the tip of the head before sitting up. She knelt up to kiss him very gently. "Now, Walter. I need you now." He embraced her, took her face between his palms, and kissed her lips with infinite tenderness. Drawing back with a little smile, he touched her buttock. She understood immediately and turned away, lying on her stomach. He lay down between her legs, resting his weight on his hips and his hands, so she could feel his warmth brushing against her but not weighing on her. He kissed the nape of her neck, gently running his fingertips over her scalp. Slowly, ever so slowly, he put one hand on her buttocks and took his cock in the other. He brushed it back and forth over her vulva, against her opening, sliding it up and down, letting it drift in and out, deeper and deeper, until he felt her open to let him pass. She felt none of the apprehension and slight force she had felt with every man before now, only the fluid feeling of her parting for him, and him waiting for her to receive him. He stayed there, his head just inside her, then slid into her, slowly and deeply. She could do nothing to help him, and she suddenly realised that was why he'd chosen to take her this way: because this was first and foremost for her, something he wanted to give to her. So she lay there, completely still and relaxed, not squeezing or clenching or helping in any way. Simply laying there, laid open for him, she let him do as he pleased, trusting him to please her. In doing so she felt the indescribable pleasure of letting go. And when he began to slide in and out of her with a slow, gentle, measured pace, she gave a gasp of pleasure. To her surprise, she felt the moisture which had always needed a little help with other men well up inside her, responding to the slowness and the gentleness and her utter relaxation. Somehow the almost decadent extravagance of being made love to so thoroughly tapped wells both physical and emotional she had not known existed. Slowly, her climax began to build. She half expected him to speed up, to try to catch up with her arousal, ultimately overtaking her and ending her satisfaction before it began, as she was accustomed. But he stayed with her at that slow and languid pace until she shuddered strongly deep inside. Then his pace tapered off but did not stop, and she felt arousal begin to build again. This time, it was far stronger and faster in coming, and she knew this time, she could match his own pace. She pulled backwards, gently withdrawing from him, and turned around. She reached up with one hand and touched the side of his throat, drawing him down to her. She kissed him deep and long, her legs parting and winding around him. He sank down upon her and ground his hips against hers, his cock teasing her vulva. She parted her legs wider, positioning him at her opening, slippery and ready for him. He slid inside her, and, sensing her urgency, teasingly moved slowly. Scully would have none of it. She slammed her hips up to meet him, already shaking with desire. He sped up, moving with her fast and rhythmic and hard, yet somehow avoiding the extreme power that always made her uncomfortable. Their breaths came in short, hard, shuddering gasps as they frantically galloped towards the edge. With a loud cry, they went over. Their thrusts against one another tapered off, slowed, then stopped. They lay there in one another's arms for a long moment, him still inside her, the soft warmth of him there somehow comforting. Finally, he withdrew from her and drew her body against him. They tossed and turned a few moments, before nestling comfortably against one another. They lay spooned together, her bottom pressed firmly against his groin, his cock laying easily between her thighs. She felt his warmth covering her, his arms crossed over her breasts, his hands cupping them, his entire body embracing her. And somewhere deep inside, she was singing. They lay there that way for a long time, sighing from time to time but otherwise silent, her nuzzling his hands, him her hair, knowing they had little time. Finally, reluctantly, Skinner spoke. "Scully?" Scully tuned her head to face him lazily. "Walter, if this is the how-do-we-handle-ourselves-in-DC discussion, I think it's pretty pointless, don't you?" He knew what she meant. The three of them were so far outside the rules now that the rules no longer mattered. True, she was his subordinate. But when you got past the bureaucracy, the three of them were a team, admittedly with him on the fringes. As long as they stuck together, the rest of it could be negotiated. The reasons for the taboo on relationships of this kind just didn't exist here. They had a shared priority, their concern for which overrode personal issues: the X Files. And that was why Skinner could know that Scully would continue to lie to him to protect Mulder, would continue to assist Mulder in his insane quest, and not mind. It was also why he knew that even if, God forbid, this relationship blew up in their faces, they would find a way through it, for the X Files. Because the X Files had a compelling imperative that none of them could ignore. They would find a way...because they had to. And so he nodded, saying, "I guess." "So where does that leave us?" she asked. There was no question of whether or not this would go on. They both knew it would. "Nowhere different," he replied. "Secrecy is part and parcel of the X Files if I recall correctly." Just then, Scully's cell phone rang. With a reluctant sigh, she disengaged herself from his arms, rose from the bed, retrieved it from her discarded jacket, and answered. "Scully." She listened, assented, and rang off. Skinner raised an enquiring brow. "Mulder," she explained. "We have to meet him outside the diner in fifteen minutes." She paused. "He's made a decision." Skinner nodded slowly. "I guess we should go down there." He paused. "What do we tell him?" Scully gave an incredibly sweet smile as she buttoned her blouse. "That we've made a decision, too." END Fan mail? Flames? firstname.lastname@example.org...you know the drill. I'm particularly interested in feedback on this one because it's the most - er - *graphic* story I've written to date.