- Deslea's URL is now http://www.deslea.com or http://fiction.deslea.com.  
- Email address is now deslea@deslea.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   
Copyright 1997   
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)    
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    
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   
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    
	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    
	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    
	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    
	"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    
	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    
	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    
	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    
	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."   
Fan mail?  Flames? drjudd@primus.com.au...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.