An Informed Choice
by Karen Rasch
Website: http://home.earthlink.net/~krasch
Rating: MSR, NC-17
Summary: "What if there was only one choice, and all the other choices were
wrong. . . . All the choices would then lead to this very moment."
Comments: Tender, sweet and shippy... Throw in some very delicious smut and
you have an absolutely wonderful 'all things' post-ep :) I thought the premise
was very believeable, and the way Scully and Mulder acted-- so characteristic
and ALSO original!
"An Informed Choice"
by Karen Rasch
krasch@earthlink.net
http://home.earthlink.net/~krasch
CLASSIFICATION: V, MSR, post-ep ("All Things")
RATING: NC-17
SUMMARY: "What if there was only
one choice, and all
the other choices were wrong. . . . All the choices would
then lead to this very moment."
NOTE: I have purposely avoided reading
any other "All
Things" fic while working on this. I apologize in advance
if I echo any other writer's themes. (I suspect many of us
are working on an even smaller canvas than usual this time
out. <g>)
DISCLAIMER: I still don't own 'em,
much as I'd like to,
sometimes. They belong to Chris Carter, 1013 and Fox
Television. This story is written out of love of the characters.
No profit is being made, no harm is intended.
**************************************************
"Guess, if you can. Choose, if you dare." - Corneille
*****
She didn't know what time it was when
she awoke. Late,
certainly. But then, it had been late when she had fallen asleep,
so perhaps 'early' was the more accurate assessment. Either
way, the sun had not yet risen. The streets outside were dark
and quiet, the stillness almost reverent, as if the world were
waiting, breath suspended, for an event of almost unimagined
import.
Scully woke alone, on Mulder's couch,
the scratchy Mexican
blanket he kept folded on the back of the sofa draped over her
from chest to toe. When she first roused, she simply laid there
for a time, taking in the familiar surroundings, the comforting
sights and smells she associated with her partner. She had slept
here before, in Mulder's apartment, on his couch, oftentimes
entirely on her own, waiting for him to return from some solo
misadventure or another.
This time was different, however. She was different.
And she thought that maybe, just maybe,
Mulder was different
now too.
Smothering a yawn with her hand, Scully
stood and stretched,
the blanket falling away to pool at her feet. She was still
dressed in the clothes she had worn to the hospital that morning.
Another suit, another pair of stockings. Office attire, worn on
a day when she hadn't even darkened the Hoover Building's
doorstep. Not the best sleep-wear, she admitted to herself as
she shuffled to the kitchen for a glass of water. Everywhere
her body bent, the fabric covering it had become creased and
crumpled. If she were not mistaken, she would soon be forced
to spend some quality time with her iron, or at the very least,
to hand that delightful chore over to her dry cleaner. Thank
God she had gotten rid of her heels before nodding off. They
leaned drunkenly against each other near Mulder's front door,
their toes barely visible from the kitchen.
Thirst quenched, she started back
towards those shoes, walking
slowly, languidly, working out the kinks that had accumulated
during her catnap, when suddenly she stopped only a few feet
shy of her goal. There, in the apartment's vestibule, she paused
to listen, alerted by some unknown something tickling the very
boundaries of her consciousness. Head cocked, she soon heard
what had commanded her attention. A rustle. Then, a sigh.
Then, deep, even breaths.
The sounds came from Mulder's bedroom.
Drawn unthinkingly, Scully padded
to his door and peered
inside. Mulder lay on his back, bundled in the bedclothes,
fast asleep. Oddly contented by the sight, she stood and
watched him, contemplating his face, striped as it was by
the light filtering in through the blinds. Relaxed in slumber,
his features seemed somehow soft to her fond eye, boyish.
Yet the feelings her silent vigil
stirred were anything but
maternal.
She thought instead about all they
had been through together,
the triumphs and the catastrophes, the times she had wanted
to strangle him for subjecting her to yet another slide show,
the hours they had spent stuffed side by side on their all too
frequent cross-country flights. She remembered how often
he had challenged her, questioning her science with the same
kind of passion with which she tended to dispute his intuition.
She recalled every whispered intimacy, the private histories
they had shared, the failings and weaknesses they had revealed.
But mostly Scully was reminded of
the moments when no
one else but Mulder would do, when she had wanted no one
but him to hold her, soothe her, to stand beside her when
danger threatened. She could conjure up dozens upon dozens
of instances, snapshots from her life, that she treasured simply
because he was in them. Their years together had cost her
dearly, yet...
...what she would have missed had things turned out otherwise.
Like tonight's conversation, for instance.
It had felt good to tell Mulder about
Daniel. It had felt
right and way, way past time. Colleen knew what she was
talking about when it came to things like shame and guilt,
Scully silently acknowledged. She couldn't even count the
number of times she had stopped herself from looking back
on that period in her life, on the days when she had been
young and impressionable, rebellious, and Daniel had been
the most exciting man she had ever met. Even now, years
later, she was amazed by how strongly she had locked those
memories up inside her, afraid to pull them out and study
them too closely, wary of the pain and embarrassment they
were sure to provoke.
If only she had been willing to embrace
the mistakes she had
made, learn from them and move on. . . If she had, she wouldn't
have wasted so much time questioning if she had done the right
thing. She wouldn't have laid awake at night, tossing and turning
over the road not taken.
Worrying and wondering about the man she had left behind.
Shaking her head, Scully crossed to
the foot of Mulder's bed,
taking pains not to wake him. Not yet.
She wasn't done looking.
She had never really known Daniel,
she now recognized, not
the way she did Mulder. She had never truly realized how
selfish he could be, how weak. He had told her that he had
relocated to D.C. ten years ago, had suggested that she alone
had been his reason for the move. And yet, during all that time,
he had never once tried to contact her, never called to see how
she was doing with her new career or even to reach out to her
as a friend.
That wasn't love.
Or some sort of pining for the loss of their bond.
That was running from the mess he
had made of his marriage,
not running to be at her side.
Mulder had literally gone to the ends of the earth for her.
Daniel couldn't even be bothered to hop a cross-town cab.
A faint smile tugging at her lips,
Scully took a deep breath,
then slid her suit jacket off her shoulders and laid it on the
end of the bed. She next pulled her sweater over her head,
discarded it, then eased the zipper down on her skirt and
pushed it to the floor as well. Her slip, hose, bra and panties
were quick to follow. Soon, she stood naked beside her
sleeping partner. The April air was chilly. A brisk spring
wind rattled the branches on the other side of Mulder's bedroom
window, a slight draft seeping in through the casement. She
could feel goose flesh rising on her arms and legs. Her nipples
tingled and puckered, stiffening rapidly into tight little peaks.
She needed to get under the covers.
With a light step, Scully neared the
bed and took hold of the
comforter. Lifting it slightly, she slipped slowly beneath.
Yet, despite her care, the moment her full weight settled
atop the mattress, Mulder jerked awake, pushing halfway
to a seated position before Scully stayed him, her hand
pressing lightly on his chest. His skin was warm and soft
against her palm.
"Shh," she whispered. "It's me, Mulder. It's only me."
"Scully?" he queried from
where he lay balanced on his
forearm, his hair spiking every which way, his voice sleep-
clogged and low.
"Yes," she said simply,
curled closely beside him, resting
on her hip.
"What . . . ?" he began,
blinking, clearly confused. By her
nakedness, her nearness. By the way their world had again
seemingly transformed while his attention had been directed
elsewhere.
"I decided I don't want to sleep
alone anymore," she told
him, focusing on her hand rather than on his eyes, watching
as she lightly scratched through the hair sprinkled across his
breast.
"You don't?" he asked after clearing his throat.
"No," she replied, lifting
her gaze. "I decided instead I
want to sleep with you."
Lying perfectly still, Mulder swallowed
hard, his eyes
staring, large and nearly black in the shadows, but said
nothing. He just kept looking at her.
"Is that okay?" Scully asked quietly.
Apparently hearing a note of hesitancy
in her voice, his
expression turned tender. "Yeah," he said softly. "Yeah,
that'd be okay."
"Good," she said, a slow
smile curving the edges of her
mouth.
Reaching up, she traced the shape
of his face with her
fingertips. Delicately, she ran her index finger over first
one eyebrow, then the other. She next skimmed it along
the bridge of his nose, outlined the bow of his upper lip
with her thumb, the rest of her fingers spread wide against
his cheek.
"What are you doing?" Mulder
asked, his lashes hanging
low.
"I'm touching you," Scully replied.
Leaning in, she kissed him, her hand
cradling the back of
his head to lead him to her.
"I'm touching you, Mulder,"
she whispered when the kiss
was finished, their lips still close, their breath hurried and
hot. "Can you believe it? I'm touching you."
"Do it again," he gruffly begged, his eyes yet closed.
And, tightening her fingers in his hair, she did.
This time, Mulder chose to deepen
the kiss. Angling his
head, he pressed his mouth firmly to hers, the pressure
demanding. Lifting his hand from where it had been resting
chastely atop the covers, he swept it across her shoulders
and pulled her roughly to him, his grip almost bruising with
its force. Moaning her encouragement, Scully responded by
circling her arms around his neck and lying back, pulling
him with her so that he ended up positioned above her, his
hips bracketed by hers.
Mulder seemed to approve of her actions.
Murmuring her
name between kisses, he softly slipped his tongue between
her lips. Once inside, he smoothed it slowly along her teeth,
the roof of her mouth. He rubbed it against her own tongue,
teasing her, tasting her, coaxing her to follow his lead, his
mouth warm and supple as it moved over hers. Sighing, she
did as he had urged, eagerly returning his sweet, wet caresses.
"You're not wearing any clothes,"
he said when he at last
pulled away, his eyes drifting from her face to her mid-
section, his hand skating gently down her torso as if to
confirm his findings.
"You are," she responded with a lift of her brow.
"Not for long."
Propped on one elbow, he somehow managed
to reach back and
shove his pajama bottoms off his hips and down his legs without
simultaneously collapsing on top of his partner. Kicking the pants
free and away, Mulder returned to his former resting place, his
hardness cushioned by the yielding softness between her legs.
"That was fast," Scully
murmured when she felt his bare limbs
tangled with hers, at a loss for anything else to say.
"I promise you I have more than
one speed," Mulder mumbled,
bending down to rub his nose tenderly against hers.
She smiled up at him, wondering at
her sudden, irrational desire
to laugh. Mulder returned her smile, his upper body caging her
own, his lower half nudging insistently now against her core.
"Scully, about that . . . ,"
he said, his fingers combing softly
through the hair fringing her face, his voice hoarse with need.
"I'd like to take this slow. I'd like to. But I honestly don't think
I can."
"That's okay," she said,
massaging the long, lean planes of his
back, reveling in the play of muscles shifting beneath his warm,
silky skin.
"No, it's not," he told
her with a rueful half-smile, dipping his
head to steal another kiss. "But I'll make it up to you next time."
"Fair enough," she said,
sliding her hands down to cup his
behind. Filling her palms with his firm, rounded flesh, she
flexed her fingers and gave him a squeeze. Mulder groaned
in reply and thrust his hips against her, grinding his cock into
her crisp, springy curls. Arching her back as she writhed in
counterpoint, Scully felt Mulder snake his arm beneath her,
bowing her body so that her breasts were pointed straight
towards his mouth. As if unable to resist such temptation, he
bent his head and sucked her nipple between his lips, drawing
on it hard, swiping at the tip with his tongue, scraping along its
length with his teeth.
Chin tipped towards the ceiling, Scully
cried out her pleasure,
her eyes pinched shut, her fingers once more digging furrows
in his hair. Throwing her leg over the back of his thigh, she
lifted her hips from the mattress, twisting in his embrace,
rubbing against him in whatever way she could. Wanting him
inside her then, at once, needing him there to soothe the ache
concentrated low in her belly, the one that seemed to pulse in
rhythm with her heartbeat, to throb with every tug of Mulder's
mouth upon her breast.
Switching his attention to her other
nipple, Mulder reached
down between them and found the opening to her body.
Tenderly, he traced the moist, swollen petals, gliding along
their slick surface until he reached her most sensitive point.
Settling his thumb against the tender bud, he sunk his first
two fingers into her depths, buried them as deeply as he could,
then slowly redrew them once more, curving them as they
exited her warmth.
"Mulder!" she gasped, clutching at his shoulders.
"You feel ready, Scully,"
he murmured, stretching up to
press a series of soft, wet kisses along her jaw-line. Below,
his thumb brushed lazily from side to side against her almost
painfully aroused center. "Are you? Are you ready? Do you
want this, want me?"
Twitching her hips in time to his
caress, she turned her head
and captured his earlobe with her teeth. Nibbling for a moment
on the velvety bit of skin, she then whispered in his ear. "Seven
years, Mulder. Every moment, every choice, leading to this.
This night, this bed."
With that, Mulder's hand slowed, then
stilled between her legs.
Easing back, he looked down at her, his cheeks flushed, his hair
feathered messily across his brow. In his eyes was something
she had never seen before, a depth of emotion that made her
own eyes water in recognition. There, shining from beneath
his lashes was all the evidence she would ever need regarding
Fox Mulder and the way he felt about her. She saw it plainly--
his need, his desire. His love. It was all there, on display. No
more hiding, no more game-playing. Just them. Now. Finally.
Throat tightening, Scully wondered
if Mulder saw the same
thing when he looked in her eyes, if all his nagging questions
were silenced simply by stealing a glance in her direction and
having her return his gaze.
She hoped so.
But in case her expression still hid
more than it exposed, she
decided she ought to tell him.
Just to be safe.
"If the past couple of days have
taught me anything, Mulder,
it's that the path I've been following--leaving medicine for the
Bureau, the X-Files, all of it--has been the proper one."
Listening closely, Mulder nodded his encouragement.
"I made the right choice,"
she said tenderly, cradling his
face with her hands. "The only one I could make. I'm where
I ought to be. With you."
A smile flitting fitfully across his
lips, Mulder moistened his
mouth as if to speak. But when his gaze took on the same damp
sheen as hers, he appeared to lose his nerve. Closing his eyes
against the threatening tears, he lowered his mouth to hers.
"Scully," he whispered brokenly, then kissed her once more.
Lips parted to welcome him, she coasted
her hand down the
front of his body and closed her fingers around his erection.
It pulsed hot and faintly moist against her palm, the skin delicate
and seemingly fine-grained. Gently, she slid her grip from one
end to the other, measuring him, marveling at the tremendous
tension contained in that sensitive length of muscle.
The moment Scully touched him, Mulder's
head snapped back,
breaking the kiss. Eyes still shut, mouth stretched in a grimace
of pleasure, he moaned and bucked against her hold, all patience,
all control, now apparently lost.
"Now, Scully . . . now, please. . ."
Pressing a kiss to his temple, Scully
obliged. Easing her legs
a bit further apart, she guided Mulder into position. Arms
twined around her, he pushed into her body with one single,
powerful thrust, sheathing himself as deeply as he could.
Fingers grasping at his upper back, she gasped beneath him,
her slender frame tensing with the initial intrusion. Mulder
stilled instantly, his forehead buried against the side of her
neck, his lanky form trembling in her embrace. In almost
no time at all, Scully felt herself adjust to the fullness, to
the sensation of being stretched by the man inside her. Her
muscles eased, her death grip loosened.
"Scully?" Mulder rasped against her cheek.
"Move," she softly pleaded,
her hands roving restlessly up
and down his spine. "Go on and move."
Groaning, Mulder did just that. He
slowly retreated from
inside her, easing back until only the tip of his erection
remained secreted within, then lunged forward with his
hips once more, to reclaim her body as his. Again and again,
he drove into her and, again and again, she met him thrust for
thrust, thighs spread wide to deepen his penetration even
further.
"Scully . . . " Mulder whispered
after a time, his arms braced
on either side of her head, sweat trickling now from his hairline.
"I don't . . . I don't know how long . . . "
"Don't hold back," she urged,
her breath exploding from her
mouth in harsh little pants, her pulse pounding the same rhythm
at her temples. "Don't wait for me."
"Scully . . . "
"Mulder, please . . . "
Whimpering his reply, Mulder hooked
his arms beneath her
legs and sat back on his heels, his knees parted, dragging her
with him. With one hand, he anchored her body there on top
of his thighs. With the other he reached out and began circling
the pads of his fingers against her clit, swiftly spiraling around
the tiny bundle of nerves, his way slicked by her body's own
moisture.
"Oh my God . . . !" Scully
cried, thrashing with his rough
caress, her eyes squeezed shut, her arms flailing, then falling,
dropping heavily to the pillow on either side of her head.
Above her, Mulder glowered like a
man possessed, his face
dark, his eyes feverish, the muscle lining his jaw clenching
and unclenching with every desperate stab of his hips.
"Come on, Scully . . . come on,"
he coaxed, his fingers still
working her. "Come on, don't make me do this alone."
She didn't know if it was Mulder's
entreaties or the skillful
way in which he aroused her physically, but all at once, she
could feel it, could feel her body quickening. Moaning
now, giving herself over to the sensations, Scully could
almost imagine her pleasure coiling like Eve's snake in the
depths of her womb, bobbing and weaving, looping round
and around, not unlike the tattoo on her back. In her fantasy,
each circle would bring the reptile nearer to its target, closer
to the point of her release. She could all but picture its narrow
tongue darting out to flick at her insides, each tiny lick sending
tremors shooting through her, firing her blood like some kind
of delicious poison, teasing her with a taste of what she might
expect, the ecstasy she might enjoy . . .
If she could just hold out a little longer.
"Oh, oh . . . ," she groaned
mindlessly, undulating now like
that wicked serpent herself, moving slowly and sinuously
atop the sheets, her fingers raking through her tangled hair.
"That's it . . . that's it, baby,"
Mulder crooned, his hips still
pumping tirelessly. "Just let it go . . . let it happen, Scully."
She wanted to.
Oh God, she wanted to.
And she was so close . . .
The snake turned tighter and tighter,
each circuit growing
smaller, growing closer to where she wanted it to be, closer
to that place, that spot, that touch, that--
"Mulder!"
And with a startled gasp, she convulsed
around him, muscles
fluttering, back arching. Blindly, she grabbed at the bedclothes
for purchase, her fists bunching full of fabric. Dazed, she
reached for Mulder . . .
. . . only to have him collapse on
top of her, nearly crushing
her with his unexpected weight. One, two, three more slaps
of his hips, and he too was bellowing out his climax, the cry
choked and inarticulate. Yet somehow, Scully thought she
might have heard some small part of her name contained within
the roar.
Lying there afterwards, sated and
content, her arms looped
loosely around Mulder's shoulders, his head pillowed on her
breasts, Scully suddenly remembered something.
"Mulder?"
"Hmm?"
"You called me 'baby'."
"No, I didn't."
"Yes, you did."
Lifting his head from her chest, he
looked up at her sleepily.
"You sure?"
"Yes," she said calmly.
"Hmm," he replied, his brow furrowed. "I hadn't realized."
She arched her brow.
He said nothing for a breath or two, then asked, "Do you mind?"
She tried not to smile. "I haven't decided yet."
The corner of Mulder's lips quirked.
"Well, why don't you
think about it for awhile and then get back with me."
Scully chuckled. "Good idea."
Crawling up the length of her body,
Mulder leaned down to
bring his lips softly to hers. Wrapping his arms around her,
he turned them so that he now rested on his back with Scully's
cheek pressed against his shoulder.
"Stay tonight," he said
quietly when they were settled, his
fingers sifting gently through her hair. "Stay here with me."
"Mulder, I can't," she murmured
around a yawn. "I haven't
got any clothes."
"I don't see the problem,"
he said, his delivery typically
deadpan.
She smiled against his skin. "I'm
sure someone at the Bureau
would. Tomorrow's a work day, don't forget. I've got to go
home, take a shower, get changed."
"Not yet," he implored,
pulling her closer, his hand smoothing
slowly along the pale expanse of her back.
"No," she agreed, far too
comfortable in his arms to leave him
just then. "I'll stay for a little while. Till you fall asleep."
"Good," he murmured, nuzzling
the top of her head with his
chin. "Stay as long as you want."
Sighing, she nestled cozily against
him, snug and secure in
his embrace.
"Stay forever," he whispered,
his breath warm against her
scalp.
"I can't tonight," she whispered
back, stretching up to kiss
him tenderly right where his shoulder met his neck. "But
soon."
Soon, Mulder, she promised inside
her head. Soon our time
together will have no end.
* * * * * * * *
THE END
