Work Text:
There are surveillance cameras all over the Hoover Building – even in the basement. And there are blindspots here and there where the video doesn’t reach - doesn’t see, and audio won’t hear. This is where he waits for her, he hears the door shut and her footsteps are coming closer to that secret spot safe from the prying eyes at the FBI.
She stumbles over his duffle bag and falls back right into his arms. One arm wraps around her waist, the other hand cups her chin and neck thumb stroking the sensitive skin. Her breath is coming out in quick little pants as his lips caress the side of neck, moving up to nuzzle her earlobe. “Mul…der, what are you doing?” She gasps.
They’d been arguing, doesn’t she know how he’d come to rely on her? Doesn’t she know how hard it is for him to leave? And how much he trusts her above anyone else, that he feels he can leave - and everything will be alright when he returns? He aches for her and it’s been getting worse and worse every day.
A desk?! He likes when she uses his, he likes when she sits in his chair – it always smells like her perfume after. He likes when she sits in the chair across from him and he can see her expressive face. He also likes when she moves a few feet away to work on something, until the urge to kiss her… and more fades to a manageable level.
Scully has begun whimpering, she can feel Mulder’s erection prodding her lower back his hand has made its way under her skirt, fingers stroking outside and inside her, she’s wet and oh so aroused. She can’t figure out why she’s letting him do this, he hasn’t spoken one word to her.
Why isn’t he speaking?
It’s Mulder, his hot breath on her neck, lips and tongue licking and sucking her earlobe. It’s Mulder with his fingers in her folds touching and caressing her - pleasuring her. It’s Mulder, Mulder, Mulder… his hand cups her mouth as she screams out, her orgasm shooting through her. She’s almost boneless when Mulder spins her around, cupping her head against his chest. She tilts her head back finally looking into his face. His eyes are so sad, why is he sad?
She’s still wondering long after he gently kissed her forehead, stepped around her, grabbed his duffle and walked away – leaving her still unsteady from the powerful climax he’d given her. And thinking of the words he’d whispered against her skin. “It’s your choice, Scully. You have to decide.”
He’s driving towards Memphis, with Scully’s most intimate scent on his skin. He swipes at a tear each time it starts to fall from one of his eyes. A desk and a nameplate. It’s normal, she deserves it, but he’s afraid. He has a hard time admitting it, but he is…
His true fear is walking into that office and her desk is bare … because she’s not there anymore.