Title: Coil

Author: Ms. AM

Rating: NC-17

Keywords: M/S RST (sort of)

Archive: Sure just drop me a little note.

Spoilers: Post Field Trip

Disclaimer: All characters are owned by CC and Co. the events that occur in this story are all out of my deluded little mind. *G*

Feedback: Accepted gratefully in all forms at the above email addy.

Summary: That would spoil the fun...

Coil (1/1)

Does one need to see to believe?

Or is it better to believe without seeing?

When is proof better than speculation?

As I lie here, thinking...remembering...is reality what I wanted or was the fantasy more compelling? Can I even be sure what happened less then an hour ago wasn't just another hallucination...

I feel exhausted...spent...physically and psychologically.

My head is pounding, my limbs leaden. I only have to glance down and see the still drying area on my jeans to know that at least part of what I think occurred tonight really did.

I think I'll just close my eyes and try to sleep. Maybe the events of earlier won't plague my dreams or are they nightmares? It gets so hard to distinguish between the two anymore.

* * * * *

It's been two weeks since Scully and I were rescued from under the ground, buried and being consumed by a giant fungal organism. One that seemed to have developed a craving for human flesh...I wonder how many animals deer, rabbits, squirrels and other wild life were devoured over the many years.

Thank God Scully, being Scully had the forethought to rush the sample, the unknown thick mustard colored substance off to the FBI labs. Or we might not be alive now. We've had way too many close calls both professionally and personally recently.

Starting with Texas then Peyton Ritter.

Then there was Diana, looming in the background, injecting herself like a poison and working it's way into Scully...and I either was too blind to notice or too confident of where I thought our relationship was heading...Scully's and mine, that is.

No I wasn't confident, not ever...I still have visions of her lips so close to mine and the feel of her skin under my hands. Then she jerked in my arms and I saw pain and terror, at first I thought it was me...That she didn't really want my kiss...and then she had the bee in her fingers and everything just spun out of control from there.

Not exactly an ego-boosting moment, I still have insecurities and I know Scully has her own, but I suppose I didn't want to see hers, not really. I rely on her strength so much and yet I want to protect her, to keep her safe and out of harms way.

Yet I want her to open up to me, she can't think I will see her tears as weakness or that needing me just a little doesn't make her any less of the independent woman she is. Sometimes I wish she needed me half as much as I need her. Maybe she does...I just wish she would show me.

Emotions are so draining, before Scully I had sort of this chip on my shoulder I didn't care what others thought about me. I just wanted everyone to leave me alone I had my anger, my guilt, and I had myself.

I didn't want or need anyone else. My search for Samantha became my guiding force and with the bureau's resources and Senator Matheson's' backing I finally felt I might find her.

And then they sent me Scully and against every fiber in my being I fought forming an attachment to her after all she'd just leave me sooner or later. But she didn't and before I knew it she'd replaced Samantha as my quest in a way.

When she laid dying from the cancer...if I had been forced to choose, having Samantha back in my life or Scully's cure. I would have chose Scully in a heartbeat. And if I had made a choice like that...would I have come to resent Scully in the long run?

No I can't believe I would ever think that especially since her being partnered with me is the reason she wound up sick in the first place. I know it was her choice to stay, but that doesn't assuage the guilt I feel personally.

When did I become so dependent on her?

The question plague's me even now as I sit and take a swig of the beer Frohike hands me. The taste assaults my taste buds, I drink without really thinking...shit...Scully's going to lecture me.

Now I find myself in front of her building, my vision swimming, guess Scully was right. We were told not to consume any alcohol for at least a month due to the massive amounts of drugs in our systems from the mushrooms. The unusual combination of hallucinogens and paralytics we were told could remain in our bodies for quite a while and alcohol or other drugs even might cause a similar reaction or relapse. Great.

So why am I here?

Good question. Contrary to what I really would like to do. I don't invade Scully's home or even her motel room like some midnight voyeur wanting to just watch her sleep. Wanting to just see the rise and fall of her chest with each breath, assuring me that she is alive.

In truth I've only done what I think I'm planning on doing three times before. Once was after her abduction, her mother and sister couldn't stay the night and they talked Scully into letting me sleep on the couch. I confess I crept into her bedroom that night and watched her sleep all night long. I was afraid if I closed my eyes she would be gone when I reopened them.

The second was during the cancer in her hospital room, I remember she was so pale with a darkness under her eyes, her hair limp...but she still looked beautiful to me. I wanted her to live...I needed her to live, GOD, didn't she realize how much her spirit and fire kept me going? I cried the silent howl of a wounded and dying man that night.

The third, well, that was after she accused me of trusting Diana blindly and when I told her she was making things personal. I let myself in later that night only to find her curled up on the floor in front of her closet. Clothes were strewn all over the room, either she was looking for bugs or she had vented her anger towards me on her wardrobe.

I think it's the latter.

I picked her up, shushing her half-conscious protests, and put her in bed. Her arms were wrapped tight around my waist so I ended up sitting against the headboard and holding her all night long. I slipped away before she woke up the next morning. Neither of us mentioned it, perhaps, she doesn't remember...thinks it was a dream, maybe.

Since I'm being honest here I guess there were a few more times all in various hotel/motel rooms. After Donnie Pfaster, after she almost had her head chopped off, after Emily ok, ok I guess there were more than three, but not as many as I would have liked there to be.

I'm still trying to sort out my feelings even now. What exactly do I want from Scully...love...need...lust...

Yes even now that I find myself slipping my key into the lock on her door, letting myself in, slipping my shoes off even so I'll be as silent as a mouse. I wonder.

And there she is...the blinds are closed halfway, but still the moonlight is illuminating the room enough for me to make my way over to the chair in front of the window. Quietly I sit...and watch.

* * * * *

I must have dozed off, because I am suddenly aware of her erratic breathing and soft moans. The sound of her skin moving against the sheets is thrilling and erotic all at once. "Mmm..." she murmurs her head thrashing slowly side to side.

Jesus...my body is tingling all over for a moment the room goes watery, shimmering, waving almost. I blink and shake my head, trying to clear the illusion. I hear her moan again and decide I'd better go and I almost make it.

But that was before she arched up to a sitting position.

Before she rose up on her knees. Leg spread slightly.

Before she began slowly unbuttoning her pajama top.

Before I noticed she didn't have anything on her lower half.

And before I noticed the movement on her back.

I sat back down with a thud, but she didn't seem to notice, didn't awaken from her dream state. My mouth is dry. I swallow as her top pools around her buttocks covering the soles of her feet. My cock is hard I long to unzip my pants and relieve the pressure that is building up, but I am too paralyzed by Scully's nocturnal show.

Her arms raise over her head, the backs of her hands rub together sinuously, before lowering, sliding over one another on their journey down her body. Her palms smooth down her sides, her hips, buttocks and thighs. That's when I focus on the movement and I open my eyes wide in amazement...

Her tattoo, the snake, moves...in an endless circle.

Is it a trick of the light? Or my eyes?

She turns and crawls to the edge of the bed, kneeling once again and now facing me her fingers pinching her nipples, eyes closed, licking her lips, hips rotating fluidly. One hand travels lower, delving into her mound, fingers searching...I groan and close my eyes.

My amazement turns to terror when I open my eyes and see the head of the snake peering from around her left side, before it moves across her stomach and begins circling her waist over and over. Don't move, Scully I want to scream, but my voice is betraying me.

I am mesmerized as Scully rises to her knees spreading them farther and then collapses back on the bed, her hips thrust into the air before her buttocks land back near the edge of the bed. Her hands are above her head again, almost like an invisible lover holds them in place, preventing her from moving them.

Her feet are planted on the mattress, knees bent and spread wide, she is so open I can see the glistening pink flesh between her legs. I long to free my erection and slide into her only my conscience stops me and the snake...

She is still moaning and panting, hips thrusting into the air wildly searching for something...someone to fill her to bring her over the peak she doesn't seem to be able to reach in this dream-state.

My eyes travel back to the snake, it's colorful...strange...orange, yellow, blue and purple...I didn't know snakes could be so may colors and the hues seen to flow together as the snake slithers up around Scully's breasts...the forked tongue hitting a nipple with each pass...

Her hands finally move...gripping the sheets on either side of her body as her hips continue to undulate in the night air. I swear the snake seems to be looking right at me...challenging me.

Is that Ed Jerse letting me know he's touched her and I haven't, after all he was with her when she got the tattoo. No I'm just imagining all of this there is no snake...I'm sleeping...dreaming maybe...

She finally groans out, "Mulder..."

Scully is calling out to me. In her dreams. I feel as if I've been given a revelation...

She's moaning louder, my name mixed in with God's.

I watch as the snake slithers up higher around her neck finally disappearing beneath her head...gone, vanished. I listen and no longer hear the hiss all I notice are Scully's breathy moans and pants.

"Mulder...please..." She pleads.

She is almost sobbing, searching for a release that might never come.

I'm there.

On my knees. My hands grab her thighs, thumbs pulling apart the fleshy folds of her womanhood. I look up and see her face contorted in agony, in pleasure...

I lower my head, my tongue searching out her swollen clit with one long stroke. She bucks hard, but my grip is sure. I dip my tongue into her warmth, tasting her essence, before circling her clit with the tip of my tongue. Her hands are in my hair, not pulling just stroking through the strands gently.

Please has become an almost constant chant.

Finally I begin to suck, gently at first. I didn't think it was possible but her sobs and breathing grow louder. My own body is on fire needing its own release even as I give Scully hers with one final tug. My teeth just graze her as I draw her clit deep into my mouth.

Her flesh quivers under my mouth, my tongue dips back into her, feeling her spasms slow and finally stop altogether. I turn my head, resting my cheek on her mound and I see it...

The snake...coiled around her leg, its head at her knee and it's cold beady eyes drilling into mine...

I inch back slowly, sitting on my heels, it moves, I freeze...I feel the sweat trickling down my temple. Scullys' leg stretches out toward me and the snake continues coiling, slithering down to her slim ankle.

My eyes track the snakes movement, my whole body shaking with the restraint it's taking not to bolt. Scully's toes graze my neck and I feel the forked tongue hit my skin as her foot begins to move down my chest.

Lower and lower.

Till her small foot rests on the crotch of my jeans. I groan.

The snake is slithering up my body away from her leg, around my neck it moves...coiling over and over. The pressure is building. Scullys toes are flexing causing my cock to harden almost to the point of pain.

The head of the snake rises looking at me much like the Cobra facing the snake-charmers of old, mesmerizing me, and tightening its coils around my neck. Scully presses her foot down, rubbing, the pressure builds....and erupts.

My whole body jerks, I can't even seem to catch myself as I fall on my side, head hitting the floor. Before blackness claims me I see the tail of Scully's snake disappearing under the bed...

* * * * *

I look down at my limp cock.

Jesus, I was so lost in trying to remember the details I didn't even realize I was masturbating. Was it real?

I remember the odd feeling after drinking.

I'll have to check the mileage on my car, see if I came straight home.

And since when does Scully sleep without any pajama bottoms on? It had to be a fantasy...a wonderful, yet alcohol induced dream.

But something keeps nagging at me...as I get up to go into the bathroom. One is the taste I have in my mouth...slightly salty and musky almost. And two...I think wriggling my toes.

Why are my socks so dirty and where are my shoes?

The End...