"Anniversar ies" My eyebrows have set up residence somewhere near my hairline as I look at my partner. He in turn looks at me with a look of cheeky excitement. "Come on, Scully, we've got a celebration! Besides, it'll be a nice trip into the forest." I sigh, but cannot hide my smile. "Mulder, last time you said that we very nearly died. I don't think I'd describe that trip as a 'nice trip into the forest'. For some reason it has made quite a different impression on me ..." He bows his head. At least he has the grace to look bashful. Then he looks up through his lashes and pouts and I know I'm a lost case. This man knows exactly how to win me over. It's those eyes, those lashes ... I sigh in exasperation, but my lips smile anyway. "Mulder, please!" His smile widens even more and he crosses the room to where I'm sitting. He kneels in front of me, leans his arms on my thighs and looks up at me, his eyes sparkling. His thumbs make small circular movements on the insides of my thighs. I try to act calm, but my breath quickens quite against my will and I start to shake ever so slightly. I have such a treacherous body. And Mulder knows it. I sigh. I need to stop this, it's not the right moment now. "Mulder, I know you mean well, but I don't think I'm up to it," I say softly and he stops his movements. He doesn't remove his hands from my legs, but his whole appearance, his eyes and his composure, change from mischievous and flirty to truly caring in a matter of nanoseconds. It's endearing, but right now I don't think I can handle it. "Mulder, please stop this," I say softly, tiredly. His right hand comes up and gently takes mine. He's still on his knees, but rather than trying to seduce me as he was just seconds ago, he's apologising. Then he surprises me by resting his head in my lap. "I'm sorry, Scully," he says. I don't understand what he's apologising for, it's bound to be something only he sees. It's his catch-phrase. So much so that I sometimes wonder whether it was the first thing his parents ever taught him to say. It wouldn't surprise me. I smile, seeing him here, and I touch his hair. It's impossibly soft. It's one of my favourite parts of him and although during the past year I've learned some pretty amazing, much more intimate things about him, his hair is still a big favourite of mine. Maybe because it was a part of him I was allowed to touch when all the rest was still off-limits. "There's no need," I smile. Then he looks up and I feel how my smile fades almost immediately. I sigh deeply. "Mulder, I'm so tired ..." His hand reaches up further to stroke my cheek. "I understand," he answers very very softly. I rest my cheek in the comfortable hollow of his palm and sigh again. He takes a deep breath. "Scully, I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression ..." His tender thoughtful look, the way he gently caresses my jaw and cheek and chin suddenly makes me weep. He sees my face crumple and in a flash he's next to me on the couch. And then I'm in his arms, crying my eyes out. "I miss her so much," I sob into his chest. It's been two and a half years now since we lost her, but it hasn't become any easier. Emily may only have been with me for so short a time, but I loved her dearly and her death is something I still haven't been able to really cope with. "I know, sweetheart," he whispers into my hair. "I know ..." He lets me cry unhurriedly, gives me ample time to air my grief and the strong emotions that go with it. Then, when I've calmed down more or less, he gently turns my face to look at him. "Trust me, Scully," he says and his look of total confidence in my mental strength is what wins me over. I nod and he smiles. XxXxX So, here we are, two days later, in a small chalet hidden in the forest. I was surprised when Mulder took me here, but it's paradise so I was pleasantly surprised. He showed me around the chalet with an air of familiarity that surprised me. It turned out that his family once owned this house, but that they abandoned it about fifteen years ago. His parents had wanted to sell it, something which ended in a huge argument between him and his parents. They had finally agreed not to sell the cottage, but they'd never set foot in it again. He'd been the only one still to come here once in a while. It was his secret. And now he had brought me to his secret, showing me a part of his life and past no one had ever seen or will ever see. I love this man. When we arrived here he gave me a small envelope. In it was a shiny key and a note, written in his very own, very unique handwriting. The key was to the chalet, the note merely said "It's yours." No further explanation was given on the note or by the man himself. I'm not asking for one either, because I think I know what this means. I can do whatever I want these next four days and he'll need no explanation. Which doesn't mean he'll allow me to dominate him, he's still one hell of a selfish bastard, but he probably thought it would be good for me if he turned that side of him off for a few days and just let me be. These days are going to be a double anniversary. One very joyous and one very sad anniversary. The joyous occasion is that we became lovers exactly one year ago. The sad one is that it is also exactly two years and six months ago that I lost my daughter. Both will be tomorrow. We became lovers the night my little girl had been dead for a year and a half. It was the best consolation I've ever had. Right now I'm outside sitting on a patch of grass behind the cottage. Mulder is inside doing whatever he's doing and I'm out here, enjoying the spectacular view I have. To the sides of my the forest grows dark and ancient, but before me a gorgeous panorama reveals a shining lake and some green hills in the distance. Apart from birds and the rustling of the wind through the leaves no sounds are audible. In my hands I'm holding a daisy. It's not a particularly perfect one really, and turning it around and around in my hands isn't helping it either, but that doesn't matter now. I came out here to think, something which I've done a lot of recently. But then I realised that maybe I shouldn't think for once. Instead I should just ... be. Feel the wind as it ruffled my hair, annoying me by blowing strands in my face. Just feel, hear, see and not think. So now I'm just sitting here, concentrating on the beauty I see around me and on the essence of who I am. Although I don't think I'll ever fully figure out that last part. Sitting here I feel Mulder approaching me. He doesn't make a sound, but I can sense him. I always do and this time is no different. "Come here, Mulder," I say calmly. He sits down beside me and neither of us speaks for a long time. I look aside and smile, seeing his face in profile. Somehow it makes him look at me and then he smiles back at me. "You know," I start, looking ahead of me again, "other couples would probably celebrate their first anniversary in quite a different way." Mulder nods. "Yes, they would." We are silent again. I look at the ruined remnants of that poor daisy and smile ruefully. "Would you look at this. I can't even take care of a simple flower ..." He holds out his hand and I give him the remains of what was once a small yellow and white flower. He rolls it off his hand and into the grass where it disappears. Ashes to ashes ... I think about what I just said and suddenly tears well up. I couldn't take care of her, I couldn't save her, keep her out of harm's way. I lost my daughter before I ever really got to know her. I wanted to know what she liked and disliked. What her favourite food was and which colours she liked best. Whether she was a tomboy by nature or rather a sweet shy little girl. What songs she sang, what bedtime stories she enjoyed. I wanted to have seen her grown up, from the moment I'd have given birth to her till the moment she closed her eyes forever. When was her first laugh, what was her first word? When did she walk for the first time? I never knew, I never saw it. I didn't see my own little girl grow up. I didn't even know she was alive... I also never found out who the father was and I don't think I really want to know. At one time I would have liked it to be Mulder, but right now I'm not so sure anymore. I don't have a clue just how I'd react if someone proved to me without a shadow of a doubt that she really was Mulder's daughter as well. I bite back my tears. I scoot closer to Mulder and then I move into his embrace. He holds me snugly, the way only he can. It's secure, safe, protected. We still don't speak, there is no need to. I reach out and pick another daisy from the grass. Near the back of the garden two blackbirds are chasing one another. They're making a hell of a lot of noise for two such small birds. They're both males, probably fighting for a female who's near. I can't help smiling as I watch these birds show off and press my back a little more to Mulder. His hand comes up to my cheek and he turns my face to his. Then he softly closes his lips over mine. I suspect the two birds continue their show-off while we kiss, but I cannot be sure. I've become oblivious to the rest of the world, decadently wallowing myself in the luxury that is kissing Fox Mulder. He has always been able to do that; which accidentally is rather an achievement as I'm usually quite able to keep a clear mind in passionate situations, be they sexual or non- sexual. Of course with Mulder things simply have to be different again, with the two of us things are never normal, but you certainly won't hear me complaining. From my lips he kisses a slow trail of fire in the direction of my ear and kiss one last feather-light kiss on my earlobe he lets go of me. In so far that he keeps his cheek to mine, his arms warmly around me. "I wasn't joking, Scully," he whispers. "These next four days truly are yours." "But what if I don't want that?" I whisper. I can't see him, but I sense he's puzzled by this. "After all, I am a stubborn selfish person by nature ..." He makes a low noise in his throat. Suppose that means he disagrees with my words. He's such a sweet man. I take his hands in mine and turn in his arms. Then, with the daisy still between my fingers, I take his face in my hands and kiss him. A loud squeak to the left of us startles us both and we look in that direction. One blackbird has chased the other away it appears and unless I'm very much mistaken the victorious bird is parading up and down his patch of grass in a very definite proud way. Well, suppose that if this really was about a mate, he deserves her. I look back at Mulder who's smiling widely and I match his smile with my own. I get to my feet, taking his hands to make him get up as well. It's become dark and rather chilly and we should go back inside the house. Of course I don't believe the Mulder family ever expected this particular little trip of ours, but they've unwittingly added one very vital thing: the bath tub. The chalet, already quite romantic in its own way, houses the most sensual bath tub I ever saw. Even the bed -- which is not a bad one at all either -- can't match up with it. It's a four-poster bath. The tub itself is pretty old-fashioned in design even though I suspect it's an imitation and not a genuine one. But then again Mulder comes from a rich family so maybe they could afford it. I don't know and I'm not interested either. All I know is that this is the tub of my fantasies. And when you close the curtains you couldn't have it any better. I don't think I ever looked forward to having a bath more than I do right now. We walk into the cottage side by side. His arm is around my waist and a very pleasant sexual tension is crackling in the air around us. When we're inside I turn to Mulder. "Care to get the wine?" I whisper and the good- girl part inside me is shocked to hear the desire dripping of the syllables. I tell my good-girl part to take a flying leap. I'm not a good little girl anymore, I'm a grown woman now who has ... certain needs ... and this man can fulfil those needs to the n-th degree. He's already shown me ... While Mulder disappears into the kitchen I walk into the bathroom. Pushing the muslin curtains aside I smile and reach over to turn the taps and watch the warm water slowly fill the tub. A generous dollop of bath gel later my nostrils are filled with that sensual scent I know so well. I yelp when I feel the cold glass of the wine bottle in my neck and I turn around. Behind me is Mulder, as I should have expected of course. He's smiling wickedly, barely giving me time to react. He places the wine and the two glasses on the table by the tub and, with his hands now free, he kisses me. He slowly sits me down on the edge of the tub and then we kiss some more. I lean one hand on the edge and feel how the water touches my fingertips. The tub is full. I smile against his lips and then slowly let myself sink backwards into the water, relentlessly taking him with me. We're both still fully clothed and I know that that has got to change very quickly. I turn the water off before it spills over the edge and then make Mulder lie against one side of the tub. I lie down in his arms, more or less on top of him, pleased to feel his bodily reaction to all this. I push the hem of his soaked jumper up, taking the tee-shirt with it. I relish the feel of his skin under my hands, the warm silken skin stretched over the taut muscles of his abdomen. I could live with merely feeling this, I suppose, if I didn't know all those things about him that make this pale in comparison ... He crosses his arms in front of him, grabs the hems of the jumper and tee-shirt and yanks it over his head and away. Suddenly in a rush I get rid of my sweater as well and then I sit back down in his lap, dressed only in my sweat-pants and my sensible white cotton bra. Luckily we both decided on no jeans, God only knows what we'd have to do if one of us had... "That, too," he growls and I grin. This one of my treacherous bras: the straps never stay up on my shoulders and normally I hate that. But right now that very same characteristic suddenly becomes a blessing. Almost imperceptibly I lower my left shoulder a little and the strap slides slowly off my shoulder until it hangs uselessly down my upper arm. I see Mulder swallow hard and I smile in satisfaction. A light tug with my right shoulder and that strap meets with the same fate. Mulder's hands come up to my breasts and he cups them, gently testing their weight, rubbing his thumbs over the highly sensitive peaks. They harden immediately. I moan softly and then not so softly when he leans in and suckles them teasingly through the wet cotton of the bra, circling his tongue around and around and applying ever so slight a pressure when he sucks. My hands land in his hair and keep his head to my breasts. I've wondered about that highly talented tongue of his many times during the past year and every time, when I think I've seen it all, he surprises me all over again. Either he has tremendous experience or an unbelievable imagination. My pride and dignity decide to go for the latter option. I feel how he deftly flips the hook of the bra open and the piece of fabric falls helplessly down my arms into the foamy water. He takes it and carelessly tosses it aside. Then his mouth descends to my breasts again and I see stars as my arousal starts to build to reach unhealthy heights. This man can turn me on so much and so completely that one day I'll simply die from sheer pleasure. My heart will simply give up because of it. But until that very moment I want him to fling me into this heavenly ecstasy as often as humanly possible ... He hooks his thumbs under the waistband of my sweatpants and he stiffens momentarily when he discovers he cannot find the edge of my panties. His eyes look at me in fascinated confusion, probably wondering whether he's feeling this correctly. I smile a knowing half-smile. No, Mulder, no panties. What a shock, huh? The growl I hear deep deep in his throat penetrates my senses like a thunderbolt and heat shoots fast and sharp through my body, circling around every nerve ending and gathering in my core. God, we'll have to hurry or else we'll both come while we're still dressed! He pulls my pants down my legs and I shove them off my feet where they get stuck for a brief moment. Then, with the sweat pants roughly near my bra against the bathroom wall we simultaneously reach for the waistband of his pants and boxershorts and pull them down. I spot his boxers and with much satisfaction I notice that they're his grey Calvins. Aside from the black silk ones, which will always be my indisputable favourites, these are amongst my all-time favourites as well. They're tight but not clingy, wide but not baggy. They show all and still leave enough to the imagination. In short, they are absolutely perfect. Right now, however, boxershorts are not high on my list of priorities, at least not when it's about anything but to get them off as quickly as possible. His elegant hand travels down my stomach and then he touches my centre, his skilful fingers dipping into me and spreading the moisture he finds there in abundance as his other hand cups the back of my neck and draws me in for a searing kiss. He slips one finger into my heat, then another and begins to thrust, the movements of his tongue unerringly imitating his fingers' maddening magic. I hear a whimper and I'm not sure just whose it is. Could be mine, even though I normally do not whimper. But this isn't normal. His thrusts quickly build in speed and strength, his actions fuelled by the need he feels in me. He slips his fingers out of me, swirling the moisture around my clit before going back to where I need him most. Stars, one by one, explode against my eyelids every time he touches this most sensitive part of me. Return of favour has always been one of my favourite games, but right now I simply cannot find it in me to take my hands from his shoulders where I'm keeping them to regain my balance as he quickly reduces the rest of me to sensual jelly. Then, when I'm on the very brink of climaxing, he stops. Just stops completely. The bastard! My eyes, screwed shut until this moment, fly open to see his mischievous look. He knows perfectly well what he's doing and, man, is he enjoying this! Actually, in a way so am I, but I'm not telling him. Because if I do he might stop altogether ... The horror ... "You wanna come?" he grins, knowing his answer fully well from the panting and the fierce flush which is covering my cheeks. My body is a quivering thrumming mass, screaming with the need to find release. I'm awfully tempted just to yell at him to for God's sake finish the job, but I force myself to have a little control. "You said -- everything was -- mine," I whisper hoarsely. Uttering multiple-syllable words is not exactly my greatest skill at the moment ... "I did?" he says, feigning ignorance, but I can see it's hard for him. Very hard. I slide my hand down my belly and I touch myself, teasing him and myself at the same time. I know that this is definitely not what Mulder wants, but at this stage I simply cannot wait. I lightly flick my finger against my clit and my head falls helplessly backward. Oh, sweet Jesus, this feels good ... He growls and yanks my hand away from my centre. I know what he's going to do and I gladly let him. He grasps my hips in his large hands and places me above him. I can feel his heat. Then, with one powerful thrust, he buries himself deep within me. We sigh deeply and I close my eyes, letting my head fall backwards again, my mouth open. Oh yeah ... this is the best. This is heaven itself. I realise even before he starts moving that this time it's not going to last very long; we're both so far gone already that I'm even afraid that the first little move he makes inside me will make me come hard. He seems to realise this as well for he's keeping still, even though I can feel the immense torture inside him. Then, when he apparently cannot hold on any longer, he begins to move. It's too slow, I want it hard and fast so I wrap my legs around his hips and thrust down on him, spurring him on. Come on, Mulder, don't hold out on me ... The waves of my impending orgasm become more overpowering with every stroke he makes inside me and I feel little parts of me flying apart. I moan almost continuously, my sounds mingling in beautiful harmony with the satisfied groans coming from my lover's throat. Then, when I know I simply have to give in, I seal my lips to his and thrust down on him hard. I'm flung across the Milky Way in an all-devastating orgasm and I scream his name, breaking on the immense power of my ecstasy. The contractions of my internal muscles are magic and from the very edges of our solar system I feel how he thrusts into me, fast and furious and then he goes stiff as his orgasm rips him apart. He spills himself inside me and then he collapses on top of me, shaking mightily. I fight for air as I clutch him to me, his body a weight I was made to relish. My heart beats like crazy, but I find my breath. Unlike the man in my arms, it seems ... 'Breathe', I think, lovingly stroking my hands all over his sweaty body. 'Come on, partner, breathe!' I smile when I feel how he pants in my arms, obviously finding it just as hard to return to the world of the living as I do. "Oh -- My -- God," he chokes out, resting his head on my shoulder. I stroke his hair. He's still deep inside me and I decide that he'd better stay there for a little while longer. I'm not ready for him to leave my body yet. He takes a deep breath, his eyes still closed. "I'm dead," he declares, "and this must be heaven." "Thanks," I say on the second attempt, "but you weren't all that bad yourself either." I feel how he smiles into my shoulder and a few unexpected tears form in my eyes. I don't mind them right now, they can come as they want. I bury my face in his hair, loving him so very very much ... "That was unbelievable," he says softly when he lifts his head from my shoulder and looks at me. "Yes, it was, wasn't it?" I reply, smiling tenderly when I see his beautiful smile. He slowly pulls out of me and we both moan at the loss. Then he gathers me to him, holding me closely and I melt in his arms. His hand softly strokes my sweaty hair and for a long time we are silent, just feeling and memorising what we have here with the two of us. "Care to find out whether the bed is actually better than this?" he says teasingly and I chuckle. "Impossible," I answer, "but we could try and find out ..." I waggle my eyebrows and he grins. "A woman to my heart!" He rises and helps me to stand as well. My legs have become two wobbly entities with a mind very much of their own it seems and for a long moment I simply cannot stand. But with Mulder's help I step out of the tub and the cooling water and by the time I'm standing on the bathroom floor -- which is totally flooded from our little escapade in the tub -- I'm relatively stable again. The air around us feels like freezing and I feel my teeth start to chatter. "Cold, Scully?" he asks and I nod. He grabs a large towel from the neat pile by the window and wraps it around me, covering me from head to toe. I feel better almost right away and together we walk to the bedroom where I slip into bed. Mulder crosses the room to the large window and closes the curtains, giving me more than ample opportunity to admire his rear-end. I'll admit, that's one part of him I've always had a weakness for and it hasn't faded over the past year. Quite on the contrary I might say ... I discover that my desire for this man hasn't faded in the least either. "Mulder ...", I say and it comes out on a purr. He must have noticed it as well, for when he turns around he's in full battle mode. I feel how the moisture between my legs grows at an alarming speed and I smile wickedly. I crook my finger, indicating that I want him here with me, need him here with me. "Come here, Mulder," I whisper, throwing back the bedcovers in invitation and baring myself to him in the process. He's in bed and in my arms in no time at all and then we kiss. And when our lips part momentarily we look into each other's eyes. And smile, giving consent to continue. He flips me over onto my back and his mouth begins its incredible journey anew. I surrender, promising him and myself that a next time I'll be the one pleasuring him, but for now I give myself completely to him and whatever he has planned for me to drive me crazy. It doesn't take long before I cry out and then I'm gone. I love you, Mulder, don't ever stop loving me. XxXxX It appears we forgot to close the window for I wake up to the sound of a bird sitting in the window, chirping cheerfully. It's a blackbird and I have a strong suspicion this is one of the blackbirds we saw quarrelling yesterday. Mulder is still sleeping the sleep of the dead and a smug smile makes its way across my face. Looks like you've worn him out, Dana ... Poor man ... I carefully kiss his lips, not wanting to wake him up already. Then I get out of bed. The bird flies away when it sees me approach. I lean out of the window and see it sitting on the grass, a couple of yards away, looking at me with those tiny black eyes, its little head a bit cocked as if it's wondering what all this is about. "Did you win your mate, sweetie?" I say very softly and smile. I did, one year ago, and don't let it be said it went without a fight. One year exactly, today. Or maybe it's seven years, depending on what you reckon a mate really is. Mulder and I didn't become lovers until one year ago, but in many other ways we've been mates, soul mates for years. I've even begun to wonder about the possibilities of past lives ... The bird hops away and then takes for the sky. I smile, looking at the bird and at the gorgeous vista visible from this house. The lake is a quiet mirror, framed in tall dark pines. The air is beautiful and silent and absolutely vibrating with life but in a very different way from the city. I wish we'd never have to leave this place again, it's so peaceful, so beautiful here. I sigh softly. So why don't we stay here? Why should we go back to DC, back to our old lives with all the stress and the horror that goes hand in hand with it? Why indeed? Of course I know the answer fully well, but I can't help wondering about the possibility of staying here. In this little cottage, surrounded by nature instead of the big city and with only one purpose: to live. To enjoy the time we've been given. We only live once and we've lost so much already ... "Dana?" I hear behind me and I turn my head, seeing him behind me. He is smiling. He walks up to me and wraps his arms around me, his head resting on my shoulder. Then he places a soft kiss just on the underside of my jaw. "You okay?" I nod. "Mm-mm, I'm fine. Just thinking, that's all." I cover his arms and hands with my own, lacing my fingers through his. The contrast between the colour of my skin and his is startling. While his is a rich warm golden bronze hue, mine is an almost dazzling white. "Dana?" he says again and I nod. "What is it, Mulder?" "Happy anniversary," he replies and I smile. I turn in his arms to face him fully. Then I gently touch my fingertips to his face and draw him closer. "You, too," I whisper against his lips and kiss him more tenderly than ever before. It doesn't take long, however, before that sweet kiss receives a fire which we both normally keep tightly in check inside of us. And that's when I know my fate is a 'fait accompli'. I break the contact and grab his hand, almost dragging him back to the bed again. There I make him lie down on his stomach and I sit down on his lower back. "Scully, what are you doing?" he asks, his voice suspiciously gravely. I grin, realising that this has probably a lot to do with the fact that I'm sitting here on his back naked like the day I was born. I bend down and briefly lick a few of the vertebrae of his neck. I don't know why, I just know I want to do that. His skin is warm and slightly salty. Then I sit up again, seeing how the goosebumps on his back slowly disappear again. "Seducing you, I hope." It's rather a weird place to start when you intend to seduce a person, but never let it be said that Mulder and I are normal people. He chuckles under my touch and the vibrations hum their way through my entire body. He folds his arms to support his head and I can feel how the gorgeous muscles of his back bunch and relax under my hands in a symphony only we truly understand and appreciate. I smile. It's a very heart-warming mixture of love and pride I'm feeling and then I lie down on top of him, draping my arms along his. I rub my cheek over the back of his neck, taking in that wonderful unique scent he has. He hums tunelessly and I shiver. I kiss his neck very softly and he responds silently. "Am I succeeding?" I ask and he chuckles. "In seducing me, you mean?" he replies and I nod, resting my head in the crook of his neck. "Mm-mm." He sighs and it takes me by surprise. "What?" He sighs again. "If you're trying to seduce me here, you're probably failing," he says. Normally I'd protest, but something in his voice reassures me. "Of course you can always seduce me, Dana, and you know it. But right now, at this moment ... you're rather making me cry than ..." He rolls over, making me lie on top of him and I can indeed see the slightly moist eyes. My heart swells with love at the sight. I reach out and carefully wipe them from his eyes, using only the tips of my fingers. "Shh, no tears now," I whisper, belying my words by the tears I feel stinging in my eyes myself. Why can't we just be normal lovers, why do we always cry? that little voice inside me pipes up and I agree. We aren't normal lovers, nor has our love ever been. And we'll never change either, that's not who or what we are. Our love was won with mutual tears, blood and darkness. It's no wonder then that our love is not a happy love. It's intense, it runs impossibly deep and profound, but it's dark as well. His fingers softly, gently stroke my hair from my face and I smile at him, my tears still dripping slowly down my face onto his. I lean in and kiss them gently away. Recycling. Then I lie down in his arms and let the tears just fall as they might. I'm not actually crying, it's just that the tearflow won't stop. His hands soothingly caress my bare back and I relax even more. Home. That's what this is. I'm home. You know, even after one whole year we still live apart. I still live in Georgetown, he still lives in that ratty old apartment of his in Arlington. We never even discussed one of us moving in with the other. It's a mystery really, come to think of it. Because every time I'm with him, lying in his arms whether it's after a fierce bout of intense passion or a night of just being there and sleeping in his arms, I realise once again that this is the place where I really, truly belong. No matter where we are or what the conditions are, as long as we are together, I'm all right. I truly am. There's no doubt my attempted seduction is a thing of the past now. He's not very aroused and neither has my passion grown beyond what it always is when I'm around Mulder. I don't mind, I like it the way it is now. We're both calm and at ease and in the arms of the person we love best in the entire world. What could be better? "Scully?" I nod. My tears have dried which is something I'm very grateful for. "What is it you would like to do today?" I leer at him. "You mean you don't want to stay in bed?" I ask in a low voice and I'm rewarded by his smile. Then I smile gently. "I don't know. I haven't thought of that yet." His hands tuck my hair behind my ears while he answers. "Well, if you're feeling up to some hiking, the wilderness is breathtaking up here. Besides, there are a few places from my childhood I'd like to show you." How can I refuse? I'd accept even if I'd been stuck in a hospital bed with multiple fractures to my legs, a full-length paralysis and only two hours away from open-heart surgery. I smile and raise up a little to look at him. "I'd love that", I say softly and I mean it. His arms come loosely around my neck as we gaze into each other's eyes and smile. "I'm pretty sure there is a vast number of things I could say now, you know," he smiles and I raise an eyebrow in my best Agent-Scully-The-Sceptic impersonation. It makes him chuckle. "For what I'm feeling right now." "Go ahead," I whisper, leaning down a little closer. "Actually it's a strange phenomenon really, one which hasn't found its way into the X-Files yet," he says, grinning now. "I never quite understood why, I suppose, but perhaps it's because this is one mystery which has to remain unexplained ..." "Really?" I say. "What is it?" "Love," he answers, managing to strip it from all these corny connotations it usually has. Instead I'm deeply moved by it. And to my chagrin it brings out the tears anew. I hide them with my smile, only barely succeeding. "Smooth talker," I mutter instead, rolling off of him and getting out of bed. He chuckles and follows my example. I fish a clean pair of panties and a bra from the drawer and put them on and I'm just about to put on the tee-shirt I plan to wear under my old University of Maryland sweater when I feel his arm come around me from the back. I turn around in his arms and see he has almost dressed. He's wearing his jeans, but not a shirt or sweater yet. My insides melt. Only this man could be declared fully compos mentis and still put on expensive black silk boxers under these faded torn jeans. Yeah, either that or he just knows what they're doing to me ... He draws me to him and I let my hands roam over his naked torso as they please. It's wonderful to know that I can do that now. His body is no longer forbidden terrain, instead it has become my own private playground and I'm enjoying it with all the enthusiasm of a little girl. At this thought my hands freeze and Mulder notices it. "What?" he asks, but I don't answer. I can't. Instead I just keep staring at his chest, realisation kicking in hard. This is not the only anniversary ... He crooks his finger under my chin and lifts my face to make me look at him. I try not to, knowing that I'll break out in tears the moment our eyes lock. "What's wrong, Scully?" he whispers and then I do look at him. And lose the battle altogether. "Emily," I only say and I see the grief washing over his mobile face. He gathers me to him, letting me cry into his chest. "Oh, Dana," he whispers, holding me safe and warm as I feel myself falling apart inside. I knew today was going to be hard., but I'm a bit surprised at how suddenly these emotions come, and how close to the surface they still are, even after two and a half years. "I'm here," he whispers. I know. Every day I'm thanking God that he is here for me ... After a few minutes my sobs become lighter and farther between. He reaches for the tee-shirt I'm still holding in my hands and with a look I give him permission to dress me. I don't feel guilty, having him take care of me. I watch him while he dresses me and himself and find how once again I'm humbled by the extent of his love for me. He kneels down to tie my boots for me and I swallow hard, gulping down a few tears. Then, when he has finished tying his own boots, his arm comes around my back and together we walk into the kitchen for breakfast. I'm very much looking forward to this trip. XxXxX If at any time I thought the view from our chalet was great, it visibly pales in comparison to what I see here. It's so beautiful here. We've been hiking for a few hours now, criss- crossing the forest. In the rucksack Mulder carries and refuses to let me carry, we put a few bottles of water, some sandwiches and salad. I insisted on that last item, but then again I am a salad-addict. Well, you've got to admit there are unhealthier addictions imaginable ... I stand still and admire the view. It's simply unbelievable and for long moments I smile and marvel at the sheer beauty of Mother Nature's handiwork. Mulder, on the other hand, doesn't seem that patient, eager as he is to show me a place once favoured by Sam and himself. "Come, Scully, it's just down here," he urges and I see the sparkles in his eyes. His smile is genuine and happy. This is a memory from his childhood he cherishes, a memory created before Fate crushed his careless child's life and forced him to grow up. I smile and take his outstretched hand. He leads me down a path only he sees. I can imagine it was once a well- trodden track, but after all these years it has disappeared under the power of the growing vegetation. But Mulder, with that photographic memory of his can find it unerringly. Quite unexpectedly a small river curls itself around the rocks. The sound of the water is silvery and sparkling. Mulder's smile becomes even wider if possible as he hops across the stream to the other side. I follow him and stand by his side. "You and Sam played here?" I ask and he nods. "Yeah, we used to build dams in this stream." He kneels down and lets the clear water spill through his fingers. "Once we'd been so successful we'd blocked the stream completely and the whole thing flooded. We were incredibly proud of our achievement, until the people who were camping about a mile downstream came to our house, complaining about their tents getting flooded." He chuckles and gets up. "It was our greatest victory." I smile and sit down, watching him as he picks up a few pebbles and bounces them across the surface of the water. Four times, not at all bad. I can tell he's still excited, but he follows my example and sits down by my side. The sun is warm and we are surrounded by the quiet, restful sounds of nature. It's so peaceful out here. I feel his arm come around my shoulder and I willingly move closer. "It's beautiful here," I say softly, feeling doubly warmed by the sun and the man sitting next to me. "Yes, it is," he replies. I lean my head on his shoulder. "You know, when we were kids we never realised just how beautiful this place really was, how lucky we were to be able to play in a place like this one. We just took it for granted I suppose." "Children work that way," I say and he nods in agreement. Suddenly lazy I lie down on the forestground, letting the rays of the sun play over my face. This is the life. I close my eyes and sigh in contentment. I feel how Mulder lies down beside me, his fingers whispering over my cheek. "Hey, Scully." I nod. "What is it, Mulder?" I'm keeping my eyes closed, delighting in the feeling of lazy happiness. "Happy anniversary," he says and I smile. I think even a few teeth are showing, that's how good I feel. "Mulder, you already said that," I say, rolling over to his side. I lie my head on his chest, my arm across his chest. His arms come around me and I sigh happily. "Mm-mm, I know," he answers. "Just thought you might like to hear it again." I nod and smile. "I do." Then I push myself up a bit so that I'm closer to his face. "Kiss." He chuckles, I can feel it against my chest. "Anything you want, Scully," he answers, before he gently guides my face and then his mouth is on mine. His mouth is warm and delicious and wonderfully familiar. Mulder and I are both ones to enjoy a little variation every now and then, but sometimes it's good to simply stick to that which has proven its quality. This kiss is definitely one from the latter category. We end the kiss with a dozen tiny kisses, I lose count of how many there are. Then I lie my head down in the curve of his throat and feel his heart beat against my cheek and chin. My hand creeps under his tee-shirt and brazenly explores the warm skin underneath. I feel how his skin quivers under my touch. I adore it. "Mulder" "Mm-mm," he answers and it sounds none too steady. "What other games did Samantha and you play here?" "Right here? Not a lot," he answers, slipping his hands under my clothes and stroking my upper body. I smile when I feel my body react. "Here we mainly built bridges and dams. There wasn't much else we could do with just the two of us. Mom didn't like it much though." "She didn't?" He smiles. "You should've seen us coming home, literally dripping mud and dirt ..." I chuckle, visions of little Fox and Samantha coming back after a day of water engineering with mud, sticks and pebbles, black as the night and just as dirty suddenly appearing in my mind. "I can imagine ..." I feel like liquid in his arms, melting and folding around him until we're inseparable and nobody can see where I end and he begins. It's a pity it's still too cold out here or I'd make love to him right here and now. Instead I'll have to put that off for a little while. It's pretty frustrating that is! I shiver suddenly, the cold of the ground starting to creep up into my body. "You cold, Scully?" "A little," I answer, hugging him more tightly for warmth. "I think we'd better go home now. Unless you want to stay a bit longer," I add. "And risk you coming down with pneumonia?" he smiles. "Never!" I grin and gently release myself from his embrace. "Well, that is a load of my mind," I quip when we're both sitting. He laughs as well. Then I get to my feet, luxuriating in a good stretch. "Come," I say and offer him my hand. "Let's go." He takes my outstretched hand and I help him get to his feet. And with his hand warm in mine, we head home. XxXxX We walk into the cottage and while Mulder busies himself making tea I walk into the living room. I sit down in one of the big chairs, kick off my boots and socks and smile. I'm definitely enjoying this holiday. So little to do, so much time to spend and not feeling guilty if what we do isn't exactly saving the world. It's so relaxing. I see Mulder entering the room with two cups of tea and a tiny jar of honey balancing precariously on the edge of one of the saucers. Suppose that one is meant for me then. He sits down on the couch and I move to sit beside him. We sip our tea and don't speak for a little while. Then I look at him and grin. I hadn't noticed before, but his hair is literally laced with leaves and pine-needles from our little trip into the forest. Apparently he notices my amused expression. "What?" "Mulder," I laugh, "have you looked at yourself in the mirror since we came home?" "Well, no," he answers. "Should I have?" "I think so," I smile, taking his tea cup and placing them both on the coffeetable. Then I straddle his thighs. "There are leaves literally everywhere in your hair." His hand comes up and then he feels them. He grins. "Come," I say, "I'll help you get rid of them." Carefully I pick the leaves and pine needles from his hair. I can't help noticing the way he smells as I continue. It's a heady mixture of forest-smells, sunshine and that very unique smell he has himself and it makes something inside me tingle and quiver. Still, I force myself to first remove all the dirt from his hair before I let my body have its way. When his hair is relatively clean again I give in to my desire, allowing my cheek to rub in his hair. I hear a sigh coming from my throat, it comes involuntarily as I close my eyes and let my face luxuriate in the sensations his hair brings. I feel how his hands hold my waist captive, burning hot in my sides and then his lips are on the sensitive flesh of my throat. I moan softly. I'm holding his head in my hands, my thumbs tracing the intricate contours of his ears as I start to slowly kiss my way down his face. It makes it necessary for him to stop his gentle torture on my nerves, but the only one who seems to mind is me. I keep my eyes closed, I don't want to look at him, I have no need to do so. His face is delightfully familiar to me and with my sense of sight temporarily disabled my other senses are working double time. I press soft kisses on his closed eyes, these wonderful, magical green-grey eyes I never seem to get enough of. Then I move down over his strong nose and finally reach the part of his face I love most of all: his mouth. I close my lips over his lush lower lip and gently suckle it. His large hands come up over my back and hold me closer to him as I open my lips and stroke my tongue across his lips and then his tongue meets mine. He moans into my mouth and I feel my arousal build at incredible speed. And, sitting here in his lap, I feel he is in pretty much the same condition. Slightly hesitatingly and not quite willing I leave the paradise that is my partner's mouth and move down his chin and then I touch his throat. I lightly flick my tongue against the soft flesh there and I feel his Adam's Apple bob under my lips. I smile but do not pause in my pleasant teasing. Slowly I move down, one by one opening the buttons of his jeans shirt and kissing the exposed skin. He is humming tunelessly deep in his chest, the sound of a man who wants and needs to be thoroughly loved. I want to be the one who can accomplish that. I let my need, my desire for him decide where to go and what to do. He's closed his eyes, he sounds like he has. I know that probably sounds weird, but after all these years I've come to know this man too well. "Mmmdana ...", he murmurs and the sound makes me decide to change my course from directly south to more or less north again, even though it appears to disagree with my lover's wishes. But I am a selfish person and he knows too well that I usually do what I want. Of course while taking his wishes into serious consideration, but still. I have opened all the buttons of his shirt by now and with a light smile I slip my hands under his shirt, pulling it out of his jeans. He is definitely turned on by all this, his dilated pupils, the flushed cheeks and neck and, not unimportantly of course, the very noticeable bulge in his pants speak volumes. His breath is laboured, as is mine I discover. During my exploration of this man's upper body I've become at least equally aroused as he is and it is showing. I've reached his mouth again by now and our kiss is hot and open-mouthed. I tangle my hands in his hair, holding his head close with both hands. "S-Scully," he croaks and I look at him. Or rather, I try to but my eyes seem to have some difficulties focusing ... "Yeah?" I whisper. I'm surprised to hear how uneven it comes out. He chuckles softly and roughly. "God, what -- ..." He swallows hard. "-- what are you trying to do? Kill me?" I lick my parched lips and caress his with my thumb. "I hope not," I reply and he smiles. I take advantage of our brief interruption from kissing to remove my sweatshirt and tee-shirt and then I'm sitting in his lap, dressed only in my jeans and my bra. And, unlike yesterday's underwear, this bra is one guaranteed to give Mulder a moment of serious serious trouble. It's made of flaming red lace for one thing ... I lean back in, our foreheads almost touching as I play with his hair. I look into his eyes and smile. "But then again it would be one hell of a way to go, wouldn't it, Mulderrrr?" Jesus, I'm purring! Actually, I was thinking of calling him Fox to get his attention, but I changed my mind at the last moment. If anything I don't exactly want to remind him of previous lovers right now who probably all called him Fox. I suppose I'm the only one who calls him Mulder. It's just about the sexiest name I know at this very moment. And about the attention -- I don't think I should complain anyway ... Mulder, bless him, pulls me right out of my reverie and back to the lesson at hand. His hands have come up to my breasts and he strokes them in a maddeningly slow, teasing way. His smile is wide and dangerous. Good God, Mulder The Mischievous is back ... "Yeah, it would be," he agrees, opening the front clasp of the bra with so much ease that it appears he's doing that on a daily basis. The vision of Mulder wearing a bra suddenly attacks me and I burst out laughing. He's puzzled. "Care to share your joke with the rest of the class, young lady?" I hold my hand to my mouth and shake my head as I try to stifle my laughter. "No no, it's nothing, Mulder, seriously." The urge to laugh quickly leaves when I feel how he has started to nibble, kiss and lick my breasts. "Mmmm, I don't know whether I'm totally convinced," he answers, but seems to let it slip for the moment. Probably because he has a much more pleasant task at hand. And God, I just know that no one is better at completing that task than he is ... The feeling of his warm wet mouth on my breasts is almost enough to drag me over the edge already. I moan his name in an endless litany, holding his head to my breasts while he continues to bathe it in hot wet kisses. He divides his attention equally between my breasts and every touch is like an electric current short- circuiting my system. One hand drifts further south and he opens the button of my jeans and undoes the zipper. His mouth never pauses in its pleasuring work and I barely even notice he's attacking my jeans. Then his mouth leaves my breasts and I almost moan with the loss. Almost, for I know where he's going to put that incredible mouth. And that thought does bring out a whimper ... He pulls my jeans down my legs and I raise my hips slightly to assist him. I don't want to hinder him in any way. I hook my fingers under the lacy waistband of the matching panties, but he stops me. I don't understand why, but I do not ask for an explanation, rather leave it all up to him. I've done that before and he's never disappointed me. He moves down my belly, carefully exploring my skin and leisurely taking his own sweet time when he reaches my navel. I'm gulping in huge quantities of air but I still feel like I can't keep up with the oxygen demand from my body. I'm ablaze and every last drop of blood inside my body is either centred in my core or in that small part of my brain controlling sexual pleasure. Then he has reached my centre and I cry out when he softly kisses me right through the soaked fabric of my panties. His lips against that most sensitive part of me is like a lightning bolt striking my brain and I'm briefly alarmed when I realise that should he keep that up I'd come even before he's removed that offending scrap of silky fabric. I fight for some control, but I'm certain that the Battle of Waterloo was child's play compared to this. Then he does nothing at all for a moment, merely lets his hot breath whispering over me and fuelling the already raging fire of my arousal. And I'm just about to start complaining when he does something he's never done before: he licks me right through my panties. I buck against his mouth and groan. I'm so damn close ... It's maddening, exquisite torture and I suppose I should report this man's actions to Amnesty International if it didn't feel so damn good. "Mmmulder," I choke out. "Please ..." Oh God, I just hope he understands what I mean by this because my speech has become suspiciously monosyllabic by now. He's still teasing me through my panties and I can no longer stand it. I need to have his mouth on me without the fabric to dull the experience. I take my hands from where they were and push the soaking bit of lace and satin down my legs. Mulder takes it from there and removes it altogether. I gladly let him spread my legs wider and then his mouth is finally there where I need it most. "God, Dana, you're so wet," he groans. "Is that because of me?" I nod, unable to speak. Yes, Mulder, that's because of you. It's all for you, because of you. My hands tangle in his brown hair, holding him closer to me while his tongue and lips work their incredible magic on me. He dips his tongue into the wet heat of me and when he flicks it over my clit galaxies collide behind my eyelids. I used to pride myself of the control I can exert over my body, but he's a master at chipping away at it. By now I seem to have forgotten completely I ever possessed that skill, the way he's is so completely taking over my body. And I'm definitely not going to use it. I feel the tension in me build even more and it cannot be long now. And then I know I simply have to know what he looks like when he's doing all these wonderful things to me. He's gone down on me many times before during the past year, more times than I can remember -- obvious benefit of that oral fixation of his. But I never bothered to watch him, selfish as I was in my pursuit of the ultimate. But right now, as I see him here, I regret every time I failed to watch. For what I see now is enough to throw me over the cliff. What I see in him is a total love for and dedication to what he's doing. He adores giving this to me and he loves it, absolutely loves it. That's probably also what makes him so devilishly good at it. He looks like he invented it ... He suddenly looks up and sees me look at him and he grins. Then he gives me one last extremely well- placed touch and I fly apart, literally get torn to bits from sheer pleasure. I scream his name and grind and buck against him, but he holds me steady while he continues to suckle, soothing me and driving me absolutely insane at the same time. When the best of my climax is over and I feel like a shapeless, sated mass, flowing bonelessly in his arms, I reach out for him, wanting him inside me, needing him inside me. He quickly sheds whatever clothes he's still wearing and then he moves up to me and I see the strong colour on his face and neck. "God, you're so gorgeous. I just gotta see that again every single day of my life," he mutters and I draw him in for a kiss. I can taste myself on his lips and in his mouth and I immediately feel my readiness for him. I wrap my legs around his hips and then he buries himself inside me. I can feel how close he is already, even when I don't feel my climax building yet. But this time it's not about me, I've had my taste of heaven. Right now all I want is for him to experience that same kind of heavenly paradise he showed me. Right now it's about him. But he's holding back. And we can't have that. I want him to follow his need and desire and throw himself headlong into the passion and pleasure he so selflessly bestows on me every time we make love. I thrust up at him, meeting his movements and he gasps. "Come on, Mulder," I whisper hoarsely, revelling in the gorgeous sight he offers. This loss of control is intoxicating and even though I've seen it before it still manages to shake the very foundations of my being every time I witness it. "Come on, sweetheart, let go," I say, my voice strained from screaming out just a minute ago. "Just let go." I feel how his climax builds quickly, the way his thrusts become faster and harder, the way the veins in his neck stand out, the way his mouth hangs open and his eyes are shut tightly. Heat radiates from his body in thick waves. Then it happens and I'm absolutely awed by it. I can see how his orgasm overtakes him. He groans my name and his spine curves into a perfect arc, his hips thrusting hard and instinctual as he spends himself deep inside me. For long moments he stays this way while the force of his orgasm flings him across the universe to places I can only guess at. Then he collapses on top of me and I wrap my arms tightly around him, burying my face in his sweaty hair and hugging him hard. His body trembles and quakes in the aftermath of his bliss, but it soon calms down. 'I love him so much,' I think, looking at him. 'Don't let this stop, Lord, don't let him ever stop loving me.' I stroke and kiss his hair and face, letting him know I'm here. Finally he seems to be able to open his eyes and I welcome him with a warm loving smile. "Hey," I smile. "Welcome back to Planet Earth." He smiles too, but then he groans. "What?" I ask. "You killed me, Dana, I can't seem to move," he replies and I grin. "Yes, you can," I say gently. He smiles in response. We stay like this for another few minutes before he carefully leaves my body and rolls over. Then he gets up from the couch, be it with much difficulty. Well, at least he gets up, I seem to have lost that ability altogether. In the end I do find a way to follow him though and we end up in the big bed of the master bedroom. We collapse on top of it and I slide against him, curving myself into our favourite sleeping position. Mulder falls asleep quickly, but unlike him I don't really want to go to sleep yet. There's so much to think about, now that I can ... I reach for my necklace and touch the warm gold. My daughter wore my cross during the last days of her life and I'll never forget that. Nor will I ever forget her. "I love you, sweetheart," I whisper into the cool air. "I love you so very much." With these words I close my eyes and see her as I saw her two and a half years ago. It makes me cry. With a deep sigh I wipe the tears away and roll over to Mulder to lie in his arms. They come around me right away and I relax. We have two more days. Two more days of no obligations nor appointments. I cannot wait. I need this treasured off-time so much. Just thinking about my protests when he asked me on this trip makes me feel guilty towards him and I send out a silent request to whatever deity is listening to put in a good word for my partner with whoever is in charge of heaven. Then I let myself drift away joining him in his dreams. If there's any person on this planet at all who can help me cope with this dreadful emptiness I feel inside me, it's got to be the man who's calmly sawing rainforests here next to me. And that is the best comfort I could have ever had ... THE END Kirsten Kerkhof © The Netherlands, 3-11-1999 9