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Disclaimer: Not mine. Set: Er... I have vague knowledge of things that occurred after about s3. I think this one's in 8 or 9, though. Rating: R. Sex. Bad language. Notes: was talking to Liz, and made a comment about how I have trouble writing Scully alone because in my head she requires Mulder for definition (which isn't necessarily a bad thing, but...). And then we were talking about... God, Daniel Jackson's hair, I think. And this came to me. Written under the influence of Cibo Matto, Nickelback and The Cardigans. Delineations of Light and Shadow After Midnight by ALC Punk! She likes to fuck him with all of the lights on. It might have something to do with the way they fit together or the way he keeps having trouble staying alive and sane and in her life. Or maybe she's just kinky. She doesn't care. She likes the taste of nutella on his skin and the feel of his lips trailing down her back. There are times when she wants to demand of him scientific explanations for what they do to each other, but he side-tracks her. And her science left her long ago. All she has is faith now. And perhaps that's why she insists on watching his face as he fucks her, one hand pulling her left leg up, his fingers crooking under her knee and stroking the skin there. And when he comes she likes the way his face looks utterly strange and alien. Maybe that's why she closes her eyes when her own orgasm sweeps her. So those canny eyes don't catch the thoughts spilling out of her soul. It's hard to have faith in cold logic when people walk in and take away the things that mean everything to you. Sometimes it's so damned hard to even remember what that certainty felt like. Rain was water and clouds and sunshine, and earth was the earth. And little children did not disappear in the dead of night at the hand of government agencies. She likes to detatch her mind from the proceedings as he slides into her. Likes to slide her fingers across his chest and admire the contrasts. Creamy white fingers on slightly tan chest, dark chest hairs tangling around them. She didn't think she liked men with lots of hair. But he changed that. He changed a lot of things about her. For him, she has faith. Without him she has only herself. And that frightens her so much that she twists to face him again and kisses him, hard. "Scully?" His voice is half-drugged with passion, his eyes sleepy. "Just hold me, Mulder." They leave the lights on in that small island of a room. She leaves the lights on and hopes and prays that clinging to his skin and breathing in his scent is enough, this time. And when she wakes in the morning alone, she knows it isn't. It never will be. -fin © 2005 ALC Punk! |