Title: In The Clear

Author: TLynn

E-Mail: fallingsky@comcast.net

Feedback: Always welcome, always appreciated

Distribution: Also welcomed -- just let me know so I can 

visit

Rating: PG-13

Category: MSR

Spoilers: 'Hollywood A.D.', references to 'Brand X'

Summary: "Everyone needs an escape, after all..." -- a 

much-needed break from the angst of life.

Disclaimer: They belong to Chris Carter, 1013, Fox, and the 

disgustingly talented actors who portray them, not me.

Thanks: To my fantabulous beta, Carol, for keeping me 

concise and coherent. The yellow PJs are for you. ;) And to 

the lovely and talented Circe for giving my fic a home at 

http://tlynn.invidiosa.com

Author's notes: This is the third of what is to 

be a series of vignettes that explore the 

complicated progress of a physical relationship 

between Mulder and Scully. The goal is this: 

though each will have a little something to do 

with the previous, they will be near-standalones 

and can be read independently of each other if 

you so choose. So is this a WIP? That's your 

call; I'm making no promises. <g> But I'm hoping 

that posting in such a fashion will help motivate 

me to get each part written in a timely manner as 

I'm the slowest writer on the planet.

You can find the previous installments here: 

http://tlynn.invidiosa.com/perfectlyflawed.html

http://tlynn.invidiosa.com/secondbeginning.html

More notes upon final completion.

Title: In The Clear

Author: TLynn

Rating: PG-13

Spoilers: 

* * *

She looked down to see his hand clasp around hers again and 

smiled. The streets of West Hollywood breezed by beyond the 

windows of the limousine, lights bright against the 

darkened sky. She nestled back into her seat and allowed 

herself the comfort of her surroundings, of being away from 

D.C. and work and usual life. Everyone needs an escape, 

after all, and no one more so than she and Mulder, she 

felt.

The past several months had been a rollercoaster at best. 

The final straw, for her, was being forced to watch Mulder 

balance on the brink of death yet again. The events in 

Winston-Salem, though "routine" for them anymore, took a 

large toll and left marks deeper than either of them would 

have guessed. With leave granted by Skinner, she'd watched 

over him as he healed in the subsequent weeks, but even now 

she could still see the image of him coding in the 

hospital, gasping for breath. She shivered at the memory.

"Hey, you okay?"

She turned her head to see him staring down at her, a smile 

on his face, but concern in his eyes. His voice was back to 

normal now, the rasp having completely faded just a few 

days prior.

"Yeah," she assured him, giving his hand a squeeze. "But 

I'm hungry."

"Really? I'm still feeling a little nauseous from the 

movie."

She huffed out a laugh and he smiled.

"So what'll it be, Scully?" he continued. "With that credit 

card we can afford dinner for two at any number of 

pretentious, overpriced, all-exclusive restaurants in the 

area."

"True," she agreed, remembering that their hotel was just 

blocks from the heart of Beverly Hills. Surely Rodeo Drive 

or Wilshire Boulevard would host elegant dining, complete 

with gourmet food, expensive wine, and sinful desserts. 

"But while we may have the monetary means, we are without 

one very important necessity."

"Egos too big to fit through the front door?"

"Okay, *I'm* without one very important necessity," she 

said, a teasing twinkle in her eye.

His mouth gaped in mock offense.

"No, reservations," she clarified. "But that's okay. I know 

where we can go."

* * *

They walked hand-in-hand down the street towards their 

hotel, bellies full of chicken tacos and perhaps one too 

many Coronas, a comfortable silence between them. Scully 

smiled up into the warm southern California night, cheeks 

flushed and mood light from the alcohol. 

The evening had been surreal, a daydream come true, the 

details of which were happily forgotten in her current 

state; to passersby they would appear to be a normal, 

unassuming couple out on the town for dinner and a movie, 

now on their way back to their hotel for a relaxing 

evening. No one had to know the film featured an 

"amalgamation loosely based on" her and her FBI partner, 

that their employer had paid for the several beers consumed 

between them over dinner, or that she'd hoped said beers 

would ensure far more rigorous than relaxing activities 

when they finally reached the hotel, which was just a few 

blocks away now. 

She turned her head to take him in, eyes forward as he 

strolled along, tuxedo jacket slung casually over his 

shoulder. She glanced down to their hands clasped together, 

her eyes traveling up to the expanse of his exposed 

forearm. As they'd sat down in the small taqueria, he'd 

shed the jacket as soon and worked the cufflinks off as 

they ordered their food. His voice became nothing but a 

gentle rumble as her attention focused solely on the 

actions of his fingers, working each toggle through the 

small holes at his cuffs. She'd idly wondered if the 

cufflinks belonged to him or came with the tuxedo and made 

a mental note to ask him later. Now seemed like a good 

time.

"Mulder--"

Her train of thought flew into the night as her foot caught 

a protruding piece of sidewalk, vaulting her forward in a 

fall that would have been anything but graceful. A small 

jolt of pain coursed through her arm as he tugged to keep 

her from hitting the pavement.

"Easy there, Scully," he warned. "Maybe you should let me 

drive."

She laughed, even as embarrassment colored her cheeks even 

further. A witty comeback was on the tip of her tongue when 

she stumbled again. Incredulous laughter bubbled from them 

both.

"The sidewalk's out to get me, I swear," she chuckled. "I 

didn't have *that* much to drink."

"Ooh, that sounds like an X File if I ever heard one. 

Killer sidewalks? You can't make that stuff up."

A grin broke through his even tone and she laughed again.

"I guess it's a good thing you're here to walk me to my 

room, then, isn't it?"

"I'm at your service, m'lady."

They walked the rest of the way in silence, fingers still 

intertwined as they entered the hotel and rode the elevator 

up to their floor. As they reached their rooms, she pulled 

her hand from his, fishing in her small bag for her 

cardkey. She stopped at her door and he at his, side-by-

side, their eyes meeting in a heady gaze.

"Goodnight, Mulder," she said pointedly, ever one to keep 

up appearances.

"Goodnight, Scully," he responded with a nod.

Once inside, she shed her clothes quickly. Dress hung and 

undergarments tossed aside, she slipped into her favorite 

two-piece pajamas of soft white silk. Though Mulder would 

no doubt appreciate something sexier and slinkier, 

especially after the delay of the last month, she relished 

the idea of him peeling the familiar comfort of them away, 

slowly and deliberately, and discovering her bare 

underneath. They'd had little time for such exploration of 

each other during their earlier unions, the first shrouded 

in darkness and desperation, the second heavy with 

trepidation. Tonight, she vowed, would be about 

exploration.

His knock was soft, but insistent. She padded over to the 

connecting door and opened it slowly. His hair, neat and 

slicked just minutes before in the hallway, stuck up in 

several directions, a testament to his own quick change of 

clothes into a white t-shirt and yellow pajama bottoms. At 

first glance, it was a familiar sight, conjuring memories 

of late nights and long cases. But now, the look in his 

eyes was decidedly different.

He stepped over to her, looming, invading her personal 

space. His eyes held hers for a long beat before he 

gracefully dropped to his knees. Her mouth opened to 

question him, but the words were lost as his hands came up 

and, starting at the bottom, began to unbutton her top. 

One, then two, he stopped at the third and gently drew the 

silk panels apart, revealing a triangle of flesh. The skin 

of her belly was pale and the muscles tight, the flat 

expanse undisturbed but for the hollow of her bellybutton. 

She sucked in a breath as his head inched closer to his 

revelation. His nose lightly nuzzled against her first, 

inhaling her scent even as he brushed against the smooth 

elastic of her bottoms, riding low on her hips. Her hands 

rose to rest on his head of their own accord and she found 

herself gasping as his lips, then tongue, began to graze 

against her. Each caress sent a spark of arousal through 

her and she let out a shaky breath, her hands raking 

through his hair in encouragement. He pulled back, gaze 

transfixed on her stomach, and ran his thumbs over her, 

spreading his saliva across the surface of her skin. A 

tremble surged through her body.

"Do you have any idea how long I've wanted to do that?" he 

asked, his voice thick, his eyes dark with desire as he met 

hers above him.

All she could do was shake her head.

"Years, Scully," he sighed. "Years."

She tugged at his shirt until he rose to his feet and then 

pulled his head down for a searing kiss. Her body trembled 

as his tongue pushed through her lips, tasting her, her own 

mimicking him, thrust for thrust. She laid her hands to 

rest against his chest and gave him a slight nudge until he 

began to walk backwards. She steered him, disengaging her 

mouth from his as his legs hit the foot of the bed and 

forced him to sit.

She climbed on after him, straddling his lap as her knees 

hugged his waist and her bottom came to rest atop his 

thighs. His hands fell to her hips as she wrapped her arms 

around his neck, leaning her mouth into his once more. 

"Uh uh," she mumbled against his lips when he began to kiss 

her.

He leaned back, brow furrowed. She couldn't help the smile 

that bloomed across her face. He grinned and leaned in 

again.

She pulled just out of his reach and shook her head.

"Be still," she told him, resting her finger against his 

lips.

He nodded and did as she asked, even as she leaned in back 

in and pressed her lips against his mouth. She placed soft 

kisses along the curve of his smile, each increasing in 

pressure as she worked from left to right. She then swept 

back in the other direction, darting her tongue out once 

she reached the swell of his bottom lip. She traced it 

slowly, testing its soft pliancy, savoring its salty taste. 

She inched back slightly and met his gaze.

"Do you have any idea how long I've wanted to do that?" she 

asked.

He shook his head, lip glistening still.

"Years, Mulder," she sighed, "Years."

* * *

The shrill ring of the telephone woke him immediately and 

he groaned. He lifted his head to see Scully still sleeping 

peacefully next to him. The phone rang again. He leaned 

over to the bedside table and fumbled for the receiver in 

the early morning light.

"Hello?" he mumbled.

"Agent Mulder?"

The familiar voice quickly pulled him from the grasp of 

sleep and he sat up, rousing Scully as well.

"Yes, sir," he managed.

"I just got a call from D.C.," Skinner said. "I'm afraid 

we're going to have to cut the vacation short in the 

interest of a breaking case. Your and Agent Scully's 

assistance has been requested."

"Yes, sir," he said again, glancing over to wide blue eyes.

"I've arranged for an earlier flight. Be downstairs in 

twenty minutes."

"Twenty minutes," he echoed.

"I trust you can relay this message to Agent Scully?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. See you both in twenty."

They dressed and packed quickly, meeting out in the hallway 

with their luggage and guilty consciences in tow.

"Why do I feel like my father just caught me making out 

with my boyfriend on the living room couch?" she remarked 

with a shaky smile.

"For the same reason I feel like I'm gonna get my ass 

kicked as soon as we get back to D.C.," he said.

When they reached the lobby, the A.D. was waiting.

"Agents," he said by way of greeting. "Shall we?"

Skinner said nothing of the fact that Mulder answered the 

phone in Scully's room at 5am. And Mulder and Scully said 

nothing of that fact that Skinner was still wearing his 

rumpled tuxedo from the night before.

Or that there was lipstick on the collar.

* * *

end