Title:            I Know You   (part 01 of 01)
Author:           mountainphile
Classification:   MSR, V
Rating:           PG
Disclaimer:       The X-Files and the
                  characters of
                  Mulder and Scully are the 
                  exclusive property of Chris
                  Carter and 1013 Productions.
                  No infringement is 
                  intended...
Spoilers:         Post-Millennium
Summary:          A long-awaited kiss brings
                  consequences to the lives of
                  two best friends.
Notes:            Heartfelt thanks to my
                  little circle of
                  readers/encouragers. You 
                  know who you are!
Feedback:         Yes, gently, please:
                  mountainphile@hotmail.com
Distribution:     Anywhere trustworthy, name 
                  and email attached...
 
 
 
The first time did not come as a surprise.
 
Bizarre events of the evening, the combination of New 
Year's tradition and adrenaline letdown, were reasons 
enough for her to expect a kiss. And it was time. She knew 
her partner well, felt the time was right for him to 
finally take the initiative. Because, if he didn't soon, 
she would.
 
It was mere seconds away from the start of the new 
Millennium, as they watched the TV in the hospital waiting 
room. She turned her head to see whether her suspicions had 
any basis at all...and beheld his face descending toward 
her. Their eyes met in the briefest of acknowledgements, of 
acceptance, before he placed his lips over hers in a sweet 
and gentle kiss. It was enough, just long enough for the 
first time. Uninterrupted. Completely voluntary.
 
She knew it would be like that, because she knew him. And 
Mulder was respectfully considerate, not pushing for 
anything more, even offering a wry comment afterward to 
diffuse whatever tension had gathered in the heady air 
around them. His arm around her shoulders as they left the 
room felt like a seal of promise.
 
The second time startled her.
 
It happened several nights later, on the way back from 
conferring with a group of stymied field agents. Her 
forensic expertise was requested in matching specific 
recovered evidence with that found on the body of a 55 
year-old murder victim. The case seemed strange enough to 
garner Mulder's interest also, but on this occasion he 
stood back and allowed her unencumbered time and access to 
the body, observing with the others how adroitly she 
handled the examination, how her finesse and brilliance 
shone. Afterwards, when the other agents expressed their 
appreciation and respect, she basked in the surprising 
adulation.
 
His car slowed to a stop on the street outside her 
apartment. They got out, and as she shut the car door 
Mulder crossed over to her side. He smiled shyly, proudly, 
closing the space between them.
 
"Scully...you were damn impressive back there," he said, 
emphasizing the four-letter word. And before she could 
react, or become aware of the warm flush that spread 
suddenly over her cheeks at his unbidden praise, his palm 
slid over her jaw and around the back of her neck, while 
his mouth again connected. This time his lips pressed more 
possessively, left a touch of moisture behind. He drew his 
head slowly back in order to gaze at her, to gauge her 
reaction.
 
She swallowed, and he searched her face carefully. "Was 
that OK?" he whispered, his breath visible in the cold 
night air. When, after a millisecond's thought, she nodded, 
he leaned his forehead against hers and said, "I knew it 
would be." And she relaxed, knowing he would do nothing to 
offend or intimidate her, as they began the gradual journey 
together into this new panorama.
 
She initiated their third encounter. 
 
They were at his apartment. He sat at the computer, so 
anxious to show her a new cyber-game the Lone Gunmen had 
given him, while she stood next to his chair. Looking over 
his shoulder at the computer screen, she was conscious of 
how boyishly handsome he suddenly appeared to her, how 
appealing his satisfaction as he leaned back into the chair 
to watch the download. She imperceptibly moved both her 
hands to his shoulders, lightly massaging the muscles, 
feeling the definition beneath her fingers. When he turned 
to face her in mild surprise, she leaned over and softly, 
hesitantly, took his lower lip between her own before 
grazing over his mouth with slow, languid pressure.
 
"Was that OK?" she asked huskily, and he nodded, pleased 
and speechless, as she drew away, knowing that it was 
enough for the time being. It would be mutual, this path of 
discovery, and for the first time she felt curiously 
emboldened, confident. 
 
In the days afterward, there were frequent opportunities to 
cautiously share affection. She came to welcome the warmth 
of his hand unexpectedly grasping hers. The weight of his 
arm spanning her shoulders. Anticipating his gaze and lop-
sided smile. She knew him, after spending so many years 
with him, and took courage, security, in these tender 
attentions. And she appreciated the gentle pace he seemed 
determined to maintain.
 
Now, on this particular evening at her apartment, they 
discussed the aftermath of the investigation. Still dressed 
in work attire, he finished his iced tea, she her hot tea. 
The glasses and cups were discarded like sunflower hulls, 
and he reluctantly stood to leave. It seemed natural as 
turning the pages of a book to clasp hands and step 
wordlessly, deliberately, into one other's space, 
continuing the new chapter in their long association.
 
His hands eased slowly over and around her forearms, to 
stop and gently cup her elbows. "In case you misconstrue 
this...I can't stay, Scully. It's not time yet..."
 
"I know that," she conceded quickly, dipping her head to 
hide a blush and grateful that he didn't demand or require 
many words right now. Hoping the burn on her cheeks wasn't 
outshining the color of her hair.
 
Raising a hand, he stroked through the lock of hair that 
fell forward over her right eye. "...But, 
eventually...there are things I do want to share with you. 
When the time is right. Is that OK?"
 
"That's OK," she said breathlessly, thinking that the time 
would be soon, rather than later, if he continued much 
longer in this slow, tantalizing attempt at courtship.
 
As she raised her blue eyes to his, he leaned forward and 
kissed her with soft, yielding lips, ruminating slowly over 
her mouth, the line of her jaw, and down to her neck. "I 
love the way you smell, Scully," he murmured, taking short 
breaths, sliding his nose along her skin. "I always have. 
I'd know your scent anywhere."
 
His fingers traveled down her neckline to the velvet skin 
above her breasts, where the contours gently changed, 
swelled. They stopped there, lingering, daring to go no 
farther, but alerting her to his desire and to the 
possibilities that existed for the future.
 
Involuntarily, she gasped. Her face flushed hotly again 
from both pleasure and embarrassment. This was...Mulder, 
her partner, her friend of many years. Yet it was also 
Mulder, the man for whom she now felt such as intense 
outpouring of affection. Familiarly comfortable...and so 
startlingly new.
 
At the sharp intake of breath, he pulled back to look at 
her face, taking her chin into his warm hand.
 
"It's just me," he said, searching her eyes intently with 
his own hazel ones. "I want you to tell me what you're 
feeling. Whether you're all right with this. There's no 
need to rush into anything, and no need to hide behind 
barriers. I'll be able to tell. I know you..."
 
"It startled me...to feel you touch me like that," she 
whispered.
 
There. She said it, a thing she previously would have 
stuffed behind an impenetrable wall of denial. He grinned 
at her unexpected truthfulness, and she found herself 
smiling in response, chagrined. Lowering her head, she 
suddenly leaned against him, encircling him with her arms, 
needing the close comfort of his body. "God, this is 
awkward, Mulder." 
 
"I know." He stroked the fiery strands of her hair with one 
hand, pressed along the length of her backbone with the 
other. "I expect it will be...for awhile. We've become so 
used to moving within one context. We can almost finish 
sentences for one other, know each other's thoughts. I've 
seen you, you've seen me - naked, wounded, dying, afraid, 
elated, joyful..."
 
He placed his mouth against her ear as he continued to 
speak in low, soothing tones. "All in the context of work, 
of friendship. We've experienced the gamut, Scully, the 
full spectrum of companionship and familiarity. We know 
each other so well..."
 
She nodded and pressed more tightly against him, burying 
her nose in his deep, reassuring scent, feeling the 
firmness of his muscles against her body, melting into him. 
Everything he said was true, she knew. Yet the newness, the 
strangeness, of such physical proximity was overwhelming, 
intoxicating. She felt his heart pounding against her 
throat as they stood together, acclimating themselves in 
slow, measured doses.
 
"New...yet so familiar," he murmured, his lips against the 
skin of her brow. "Discovery in a wholly different setting, 
Scully, with a new meaning." He moved slowly to her 
cheekbone, investigating, first with his mouth, then with 
his eyes and hand. "I remember windburn here, redness from 
the snow and ice. Your tears. Scratches from animals. 
Scuffs and bruises. I know this cheek..."
 
In spite of his mesmerizing attentions, she looked up at 
him quizzically, a brow arched.
 
"Don't doubt me, Scully. I've kissed you there many times 
before...Granted, it was in a hospital situation, and as 
both a concerned partner and a desperate friend." He 
breathed into her ear again as he lowered his voice to a 
soft whisper. "And I expect to, sometime, know you 
better...even more completely."
 
"So, Agent Mulder," she countered quietly. "Does your 
photographic memory extend to the sensory, also? Or merely 
the prophetic?"
 
As if to answer, his tongue, thick and warm, traced the 
curving edge of her ear down to the small lobe, which he 
softly drew into his mouth.
 
She trembled at the sensation, and he pulled back again, 
examining her face, wanting the truth of what she was 
feeling. Before he could ask, she managed a shy smile and 
said, "It's OK, Mulder..."
 
"Too much?"
 
"Yes...no..." She gave a small laugh, shaking her head as 
she reached up with new boldness to memorize the contours 
of his face with her own searching fingers. Mulder's face. 
Her personal Constant. From smooth brows to tender eyelids. 
The soft sandpaper of his upper lip, the enticing 
depressions on either side of his pouting mouth. 
 
He blinked and sighed at her touch, relishing the feel of 
her fingertips on his skin.
 
A wave of affection, infused with desire, washed over her, 
and she replaced her hands with her mouth, kissing his full 
lower lip until the upper responded by grasping back in a 
playful, enticing caress. They smiled together, lips moving 
over lips, content to nuzzle and familiarize. Gently, 
slowly. Taking time to become comfortable with one another 
in this new arena.
 
"I know you, Scully," he breathed between kisses. "How you 
like things to be. Structured. Step by step. Full, 
scientific investigation." Another moist nip. "Nothing 
neglected or unexplained..." Gentle fingers moved along her 
throat. "God, you're so beautiful..."
 
Her soft hands cradled his face as she pushed back to look 
at him. "Mulder... Do you know that you talk too much?"
 
The corners of his eyes crinkled in amusement at her words. 
"Taking charge, Scully?" he teased affectionately. 
"Regaining control? That's so like you. I find that 
incredibly...exciting..."
 
"I'm sure you do, Mulder." 
 
She broke off to kiss him again, acutely aware that time 
itself was grinding to a halt in the wake of their dizzying 
and tender ministrations. "Because, you see...I know you, 
too..." 
 
*****