TITLE: Heart's Desire 01/01

AUTHOR: Radclyffe

EMAIL ADDRESS: rdclyfhall@hotmail.com

ARCHIVE: anywhere, just let me know

RATING: NC-17; This story depicts graphic sexual encounters between

same-sex consenting adults.

CATEGORY:Romance

SPOILERS: none

KEYWORDS: Scully/Other(female); Scully/Slash SUMMARY: The day Cupid rules.

CROSS-POSTING: Anywhere, and thanks.

DISCLAIMERS:

Characters and events introduced on the X-Files are the sole property of

Chris Carter etc,

and are used here with no intent to profit.



Comments welcome and appreciated.



*****



The desk drawer slammed with enough force to send a tremor across the

floor, up the metal rungs of his chair and into his ass.

He lifted his shoes from the top of his blotter, tipped his chair forward

and stared at his partner.

There was a crease between her eyes that usually bode danger.



"Something wrong?" he asked cautiously.



"No," she snapped, pushing a stack of files to one side with enough force

to cause several to carom to the floor.

She ignored them.



He searched his memory for transgressions -- his case reports were up to

date, he hadn't left sunflower seeds or shells on her side of the car, and

he hadn't insulted her scientific opinions, religious beliefs or adherence

to protocol in -- at least a day.



He sat in silence, contemplating her hunched shoulders as she pounded her

keyboard relentlessly. It was something alright. As his gaze wandered

aimlessly around the office, he spied a small red symbol on the wall

calendar. He passed over it, then looked back and stared at it. Shook his

head. *Nah -- couldn't be. Not Scully*



Mulder cleared his throat. "Doing anything special tonight?"



"No," she answered quietly. She didn't look at him. She tried to ignore her

disappointment. *It's not like it really means anything, for heaven's sake.

It's just another excuse for commercial exploitation. So -- she forgot. It

doesn't mean she doesn't love me*



*Does it?*



A tiny sliver of uncertainty pricked at her consciousness. She had been out

of town a lot lately, traipsing back and forth across the country trying to

assist in that damn kidnapping case. They hadn't had much time alone -- or

much time for much of anything. There had been that quick visit she had

made to the hospital between a morning flight in from California and an

evening flight out to New York City. She smiled at the memory. She did

enjoy grappling on the narrow bed in Marsh's on call room like a teenager

in heat. But it was hardly the height of romance.



Maybe they were losing that. They were well past the 'honey moon' period.

They didn't live together but they slept together every night -- except

when Marsh was on call or Scully was on a case. Such day to day intimacy

could dull the excitement. Was Marsh getting bored with her?



She sighed, crammed the unfinished paperwork into her briefcase and snapped

it shut. She glanced at the clock - it was after six pm already. "Marsh

hasn't called. She's probably still in the OR."



Mulder nodded, deciding from the look on her face that it was safer not to

comment. "Here," he said quietly, handing her a rectangular white envelope.



She stared at the proffered object for a moment, then took it tentatively

from his outstretched hand. She pulled it open and slid out a single

thickness of brightly colored paper. A valentine that reminded her of the

ones she sent as a child -- the kind that came ten to a pack. A red heart

with frilly fake lace edges, and the words, "To My Best Friend", contained

within.



Scully was incredibly touched that he would even think of this after all he

had been through recently. She was horrified to find her throat

constricting and her eyes beginning to burn. She swallowed, cleared her

throat, finally looked at him. His expression fluctuated somewhere between

trepidation and self-satisfaction. "Thanks Mulder."



He shrugged, a lop-sided grin forming. "Don't mention it."



"I didn't get you anything," she said, feeling guilty. *I got Marsh a great

pair of silk boxers, though - navy blue silk with a single button on the

fly. Sexy as hell, especially when she's wearing -- *



"S'okay," he answered. "My mailbox is overflowing with 'em."



Finally she smiled. "Yeah. Right." She gathered her things and headed for

the door. "Night, Mulder."



"Hey," he called after her. "Maybe she tried and the flower guy couldn't

find the office!"



She shook her head, silently departing, her footsteps echoing down the long

dim corridor.



*****



"Agent Scully?" a deep male voice asked politely, as a figure stepped

forward on the sidewalk in front of the FBI building.



Scully stopped, instantly alert, but not particularly worried. Medium

height, middle thirties, neatly dressed, totally nonthreatening posture.

Hands at his sides -- no evidence of a weapon. "Yes?"



"I'm your driver, ma'am," he continued, indicating a white limousine idling

at the curb. "If you'll allow me." He reached to open the rear door.



"You've made a mistake," Scully began, shaking her head.



He smiled and handed her an envelope. "No, ma'am." He remained by the open

door, patiently waiting.



Scully opened the second mystery envelope of the day and pulled out a

folded note. She opened it and read, "Remember the time at your mother's

with Bill in the next room? You cried at the end. You were so beautiful"



Scully colored involuntarily at the recollection of trying desperately to

be quiet, a pillow firmly clenched in her teeth, as Marsh stroked her. The

note could only be from her. Scully looked at the man beside the vehicle,

searching for any hint of danger, anything that didn't feel right. She

laughed quietly and slid into the luxurious interior. Sometimes a rose _is_

just a rose.



7:32pm



The dark leather smell surrounded her, and on the seat she found a real

rose, with a small white card pinned to its stem.



"Have I told you today how much I love you? More than I can ever say"



Scully read the words again, at once warmed and mystified. She had never

expected this love -- never sought it nor dreamed it nor longed for it. And

now she could not imagine living without it. Without Marsh. The mere

thought produced a physical pain. She brushed the fear away, knowing there

was nothing she could do to change the future. All she could do was cherish

the present.



She held the card tightly, trying to see by the signs passing outside the

tinted glass windows the direction her driver was taking them. Downtown --

God, she hoped it wasn't some expensive restaurant. She wasn't dressed for

it, and she was beat. The last weeks had been insane, and she was

emotionally and physically frayed. Still, she was eager to discover exactly

_what_ Marsh had planned for her.



A few moments later, she could see her destination, and her heart

plummeted.



*Oh god -- not the Hay-Adams Hotel! I am absolutely not prepared for dinner

there!*



Her driver pulled around the curving drive to the entrance and hurried to

open her door for her. To her surprise, he accompanied her into the vast

foyer with its ornamental ceiling, huge Grecian columns and eclectic

European and Asian antiques. To her relief, he steered her away from the

Lafayette dining room toward a private elevator tucked away in a corner. A

dignified man in an elaborate uniform stood by the open door.



"To the Imperial Suite, Henry," the driver said, then quietly slipped away.



"Madam," Henry said in a deep formal tone, gesturing for Scully to proceed

him into a beautiful elevator car adorned with brocade wall coverings above

dark walnut wainscoting.



Scully smiled at the appellation, and followed him in.



8:10 PM



Marsh met her at the door to the suite, obviously freshly showered and

wearing a royal blue silk dressing gown that Scully had given her for

Christmas. Her legs were bare below the mid-thigh hem, and Scully was quite

certain there was only the sash and the smooth cool silk above that point

as well.



Marsh had a very self-satisfied smile on her face.



"I don't know what to say," Scully admitted, still standing at the

threshold of an enormous suite of rooms. She felt shy, for no reason she

could imagine. This was the woman who had held her countless nights, and

touched her life more intimately than any other person. Yet seeing her

there, so confident and so absolutely stunning, Scully had a moment's

insecurity. They had made love hundreds of times, but she had never been so

aware of Marsh's sexual presence before.



*Why me* she thought. *Why does she want me?*



"You don't have to say anything," Marsh said quietly, taking her hand and

leading her into the bedroom. The room was dominated by a king-sized bed,

the ornate coverlet thrown back to reveal pale blue satin sheets and a

mountain of pillows. A silver ice bucket stood nearby with a bottle of Dom

Perignon chilling in it.



Marsh took Scully's coat and briefcase and laid them on a nearby chair.

Then she very slowly and very gently removed each article of Scully's

clothing. As each layer was shed, Marsh stroked the newly exposed skin with

her fingers and her mouth. Neither of them spoke, but by the time Scully

stood nude before her lover, they were both flushed. Marsh wrapped her in a

soft white robe and poured two glasses of champagne.



"Come with me," Marsh whispered. She opened the door to the bathroom and

drew Scully inside. A huge sunken tub was filled to the top, rose petals

floating on the surface. The air was heavy with the scent, suffusing Scully

with a languid sense of ripe sensuality.



"I just filled the tub," Marsh murmured, sliding the robe from Scully's

shoulders as she guided her to the single stair down into the bath.



Scully slid into the warm, soothing water, groaning as her aching muscles

began to relax. She leaned her head back, and surveyed Marsh through half

closed lids. "And here I thought you forgot."



Marsh lifted the crystal champagne flute to her lips, admiring the creamy

expanse of shoulders and curve of breast exposed above the light layer of

suds. A faint sheen of perspiration clung to Dana's face, and Marsh had the

deep urge to lick the tiny droplets away. Her voice was very tight as she

answered. "How could I forget, when every day I am reminded of what a

miracle you are."



Scully blushed, still surprised by Marsh's ardor. She raised one hand,

beckoning. "Join me."



"Not yet," Marsh replied, slipping out of her robe and sitting on the wide

marble ledge of the sunken bath. She reached for a large soft sponge,

scooped up the fragrant suds, and began to lightly massage Scully's arms

and shoulders.



Scully groaned again, arching her body upward, her breasts emerging from

the water pink from the warmth, nipples puckering in the cooler air. She

looked at Marsh's handsome face bending near, and felt the dark intensity

of her lover's eyes on her skin. She recognized the desire swirling there.

She asked a question she had never asked before, not even sure why she

needed to know. "Why do you love me?"



Marsh's eyes grew pensive, tracing one finger down the outer edge of

Scully's breast. She brushed her palms over Scully's chest, lingering a

mere instant on her breasts, making Scully moan softly.



"The first time I saw you, I knew I had never seen anyone like you before."

She returned to Scully's breasts, lifting them softly in her hands, thumb

and forefinger kneading the tense nipples. Scully bit her bottom lip and

leaned her head back against the curved edge of the tub. Marsh continued,

her voice dreamy. "Your eyes were flashing fire, and your face was so

fierce. You were strong, and valiant and frighteningly beautiful. My heart

ached to look at you."



Marsh slid a hand under the surface and lifted Scully's leg. She began to

slowly knead the calf muscles, working her fingers deep into the taut

muscles. "The first time I touched you, I knew I had never touched anyone

as desirable as you." She reached Scully's foot, her deft surgeon's hands

massaging the fine bones and tendons rhythmically. Scully groaned, sinking

deeper into the warmth, seduced by the intoxicating pleasure of Marsh's

ministrations. "You excite me as no one ever has -- ," Marsh whispered. She

stroked the length of each toe, rubbing the pads with her thumb. "You make

me weak with wanting you."



Scully slowly opened her eyes only to find her vision blurred by desire. "I

want you next to me," she said hoarsely. Her body was humming, beginning

the slow burn of need.



"Soon." Marsh edged her legs into the tub, easing her fingers up Scully's

legs. She made teasing circles over Scully's inner thighs, gliding on the

soap softened skin, reaching higher with each pass. "You are every dream I

ever dared dreamed." Words spoken so softly it was like another caress.



Scully lifted her hips, sending small ripples across the surface of the

water. "I need you so much."



Marsh was silent, slipping into the water and moving behind Scully to

cradle her in her arms. Scully leaned her head back against Marsh's chest,

curling her fingers around Marsh's encircling arms, drawing Marsh's hands

down over her belly. She guided Marsh's fingers against her, her breath

catching as she felt the first exquisite touch. "Oh that is so good," she

breathed. Marsh stirred her as no one ever had -- ever could. *I never

would have believed any one could do this to me. You own my soul*



Marsh pressed her lips to Scully's neck, closing her eyes, letting all

thought dissolve. Her world became sound and texture and the faint movement

of Dana in her arms. She followed where ever Scully led, content to please,

grateful to give.



Scully's eyes closed too, all her senses spiraling down to center in the

nerve endings deep within her. Blood pounded and pulsed through her belly,

muscles quivered, and her heart beat erratically. She was so very close,

and so very ready.



Scully pressed Marsh inside, holding Marsh's hand firmly against her.

Marsh's palm massaged her stiff clit as Scully slowly rode up and down the

tantalizing length of Marsh's fingers. Scully crooned her delight, small

sighs and murmurs that blended and grew louder as she neared the point

where consciousness shatters and sensation rules.



With one deep tremor she succumbed, shuddering repeatedly within the safe

circle of Marsh's embrace. Tears mixed with the warm mist on her cheeks.



They clung to one another with no words to express the wonder they had

found together.



Until, "I love you so much."



Two voices, one eternal passion.



***

End Heart's Desire 01/01

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web site: www.mindspring.com/~radclyffe

or www.angelfire.com/nf/radclyffe

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