TITLE: Fantasy Island:Awakenings
AUTHOR: Radclyffe
EMAIL: rdclyfhall@hotmail.com
ARCHIVE: anywhere 
RATING: NC-17; This story depicts graphic sexual encounters between 
same-sex consenting adults. 
CATEGORY: Vignette
SPOILERS: none
KEYWORDS:  Scully/Other(female); Scully/Slash 
SUMMARY: Scully gives in to a secret desire.

DISCLAIMERS: I'm not stealing them.

For Lee, for whom words are not enough.

**********

*It can't be 8:30 in the morning. I never sleep past six a.m. It doesn't 
matter what day it is - weekday, weekend, workday, or vacation, I'm 
always awake at six a.m.* Scully turned carefully to look at the 
sleeping woman beside her. Marsh slept soundly, curled up on her side, 
her face turned on the pillow towards Scully. Her long dark lashes 
rested gently on her cheeks, and her face was lineless in repose. *It's 
all because of you. Everything changes when we're together. You make me 
do things, _ feel _ things, I never thought I could. You make me want 
things I never imagined*

Scully blushed, remembering Marsh's whispered words of the evening 
before. *Fantasies* Had she ever had a fantasy? Had she ever dreamt of 
something so beyond her experience that she could call it a fantasy? If 
anyone were capable of moving her to fantasy, it was the woman beside 
her. Marsh had brought another dimension to her life. She had brought 
passion, and deep-seated need, and a sense of physical desire so acute 
it was painful.

Scully carefully slid the light cotton sheet off Marsh's shoulders. With 
a feather light touch, she traced the muscles in Marsh's chest and arms, 
stopping immediately when Marsh rolled onto her back with a sigh. As 
Marsh's breathing became even once again, Scully continued her tactile 
journey. She brushed the palm of her hand lightly down the smooth planes 
of Marsh's abdomen, allowing her fingers to rest lightly in the soft 
dark hair at the base of Marsh's belly. Marsh shifted once again, 
murmuring slightly at the touch, bringing one knee up reflexively.

Scully leaned up on an elbow, looking up and down the length of Marsh's 
long sensuous form. She placed her thumb gently on the soft skin high on 
the inside of Marsh's leg, her fingers fanning lightly over the tendon 
separating leg from belly. She caught her breath as the muscles trembled 
under her touch. She inched down on the bed until her face hovered above 
Marsh's lower abdomen. She breathed deeply, reveling in the myriad of 
rich scents. There were hints of sandalwood and ivory and something 
altogether indefinable. There was the underlying tang of Marsh's unique 
bouquet, drawing her closer, urging her inward, a siren's call. 

She wasn't sure if it qualified as a fantasy, but there _ was _ 
something she had always wanted to do. Her heart hammered at the mere 
idea of it. She lifted the covers further and moved stealthily lower 
until she was resting on her elbows between Marsh's legs. She had not 
yet touched her, other than to press Marsh's raised knee slightly to the 
side. Now she simply lay gazing at the splendor before her. She was 
amazed at her own boldness. It wasn't as if as a physician there were 
any mysteries the body still held for her. But this in fact was a 
mystery beyond description. The colors of sunset, the perfume of ancient 
priestesses, the softness of newborn skin - so elegant, so powerful, so 
undeniably desirable - the essence of woman, her lover.

*I want her so badly my body is aching. I can feel my own wetness 
dripping down my thighs. She hasn't even kissed me, nor I her. Yet I 
know the taste of  her lips where all others have faded. She hasn't 
touched me although I know the feel of her hands as well as my own. I 
want nothing more than to hold her delicate, fragile, strong self in my 
hands, between my lips, inside me. I want to drink her, consume her, 
devour her*

Scully rested her forehead briefly on the cool sheets, the palms of her 
hands resting possessively yet so reverently on the insides of Marsh's 
thighs. She lay listening to Marsh breathe - slowly, evenly, 
reassuringly steady.  She realized that this was what Marsh brought to 
her life.  Consistency, certainty, the realization that there was 
someone who loved her regardless of external events.  Not for what she 
had accomplished, not for the degrees she had earned, or for what she 
proved, or disproved - none of those things mattered to Marsh.  Scully 
felt no need to be anything other than what she was, sometimes strong, 
sometimes uncertain, often stubborn, and always driven.  Marsh seemed to 
understand those forces which had governed her since childhood, the need 
to prove her worth through work.  Even when her work kept them apart, 
Marsh never complained. Her family had never accepted her as 
unconditionally.  She always felt the need to conform in some why, to 
meet her father's aspirations for her, to fulfill her mother's dreams 
for her, to fit her brothers' images of her. Melissa had wanted her to 
be less rational, more accepting of her emotional  side. Scully had a 
feeling Missy would have approved of Marsh. Marsh was the only person in 
her life who never wanted her to be anything other than what she was.  
Marsh was the only person who loved her for precisely _who_ she was.

She raised her head, turning slightly to press her lips against the 
tender space high on the inside of Marsh's thigh. She closed her eyes, 
absorbing the sensations. Warmth, softness, sweet fragrances. She slowly 
kissed her way to the tender folds of skin between Marsh's legs, 
stopping when she felt Marsh twitch.  She waited there, floating 
somewhere between contentment and desire. *This yearning, this wanting, 
this undying need - this is love*

Love. A word so easily spoken, an emotion so seemingly universal -  yet 
a concept so elusive to define. *Why her and no one else? Others have 
passed through my life, have touched me, have even loved me for a while, 
in a way. Mulder loves me -- I love him. But I've never wanted him like 
this -- a hunger beyond words, a thirst beyond description -- * She 
flicked her tongue over a clear drop of ambrosia clinging to the 
intricately scalloped, demurely closed slips of flesh guarding hidden 
treasures within. Marsh murmured, her pelvis shifting slightly.

Scully smiled, enjoying her power. She insinuated her tongue further, 
parting the delicate folds, releasing a trickle of warmth onto her lips. 
The scent, the taste was so sudden, and so uniquely Marsh, Scully nearly 
gave in to the urgent desire to take all of her into her mouth. *No. 
Slowly. As slow as you can, for as long as you can*

She breathed out softly, watching the swelling begin -- feeling an 
answering pressure between her own legs. *Ah god -- she is so beautiful* 
Carefully, she brought both thumbs along either side, pulling Marsh 
open, exposing the hot, moist, pulsating core to her view. How could 
mere flesh surpass poetry in it's elegance and simple purity? She almost 
forgot to breathe.

Reverently, she placed a kiss on the barely visible tip of Marsh's 
clitoris, and was rewarded with a faint twitch against her lips. She 
pressed forward slightly, using her mouth to push back the enclosing 
hood, encircling the swiftly engorging prominence, but not yet touching 
it with her tongue. Her own clit pounded. Had she ever done anything so 
bold? The excitement in the still morning air was nearly audible. Her 
rapidly beating heart echoed the pulse tripping beneath her lips.

She sucked. Gently at first, pull-release, pull-release -- coaxing more 
blood into the already taut tissues, urging the thick warm fluid to flow 
faster -- losing herself in the rhythm. Her body awakened to the 
visceral memory, responding in kind, her arousal matching what she felt 
in her lover. Marsh groaned and Scully whimpered, eyes tightly closed, 
all her awareness focused on the messages Marsh's body was sending her. 
She ran her tongue from the tightly clenched muscles below up over the 
top of Marsh's fully erect clitoris. Her own clit twitched as Marsh's 
pelvis lifted into the stroke.

*I've got to touch myself -- if I don't, I'll explode* She placed the 
flat of her fingers on the base of her clit, massaging it, trying to 
quiet the rising storm so that she could concentrate on bringing Marsh 
to the edge. The sharp urgency abated, only to be replaced by a deeper 
aching pressure. She struggled to ignore the need to stroke herself 
faster.

Her tongue was circling Marsh's clit now, firmly, brushing the stiff 
shaft from side to side. Marsh's hand came to her hair, her fingers 
tangling in the soft locks. Scully sensed her hovering on the brink of 
awakening as Marsh's body gathered for the impending cataclysm. 

* Oh god, oh god -- she's going to come soon. Yess-- let me have it -- 
oh baby -- you are so incredible--* This was the moment that always tore 
her reason from her. Marsh was so vulnerable as her control slipped 
away, trembling helplessly as her nerves and muscles surrendered to the 
volley of surging impulses streaming through them. *Oh lord, let me love 
her well enough to deserve this -- *

Scully's fingers moved rapidly between her legs, but she wasn't aware of 
her own rising need. Marsh's clit began jerking between her lips, and 
she rocked her whole face into Marsh as she pulled her harder into her 
mouth. 

Marsh grasped at the sheets as she half sat up with a cry. "Oh my god-- 
you're making me come--"

Scully never stopped her rhythmic strokes, not even when tears of wonder 
flooded her eyes, not even when the first gripping spasms of her own 
orgasm tore through her belly. She didn't stop licking her even after 
Marsh had collapsed back onto the bed and her own legs had stopped 
trembling. She might have stayed there for hours, no thoughts in her 
mind, the sense of supreme satisfaction her only emotion -- had Marsh 
not spoken.

"I cannot believe how loved you make me feel," Marsh whispered brokenly.

"I cannot believe how much I love you," Scully murmured, resting her 
cheek against the inside of Marsh's thigh.

"I wish I had some way to show you how much I adore you," Marsh 
continued, pushing up onto her elbows, gazing down into Scully's flushed 
and somewhat triumphant face.

Scully's eyes, still glazed with passion, sparkled suggestively. "There 
is."

Marsh reached down to pull Scully up into her arms. "And that might be?" 
she inquired, her lips parting for their first kiss, thinking of exactly 
how she ws going to make love to her.

"Coffee."

Marsh stared at her in amazement. "Come again?"

Scully grinned. "All right. But coffee first."

End: Awakenings