Title: Making Memories



Author: Andrea



Rating: NC-17



Category: MSR, PWP, smut biscuit, fluff   :)



Disclaimer: I'm not sure who legally owns, but I know

they aren't mine, legally anyway.



Spoilers: 



Summary: Someone is always listening.



Notes: Thanks to Angela, Dan and Aly for beta reading.



Archiving: I'd be honoured.



Feedback: Yes, please! ardywyn@hotmail.com



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



As always, when I first woke up, I wasn't sure where I was. When 

I realized I was in a motel room, my next challenge was 

remembering which case we were working on. The name of the town 

would come to me eventually, or not. It didn't really matter. 

Recalling the name of the town wouldn't help us solve the case.



After stretching and yawning, the details of the case began to

filter back to my conscious mind. It was another werewolf case.

We'd investigated so many they all began to run together. Most 

of them Mulder could investigate over the phone, discounting them

quickly. But we'd still gone out into the field to investigate at

least a dozen; this time we were in Michigan's Upper Peninsula.



The town we were in was surrounded by heavy woods and the 

forestry service had been trying to reintroduce wolves into the

area. I was sure there was no lycanthropy here; it seemed more 

like angry hunting guides to me. Since the reintroduction of 

wolves and their placement on the protected list, the hunting

industry in the Upper Peninsula had declined almost 25 percent.



I had tried to talk Mulder out of this trip. There had only been

one death -- an employee of the forestry service. Granted he had

been killed on a full moon, and his wounds were consistent with 

what is accepted by believers to be typical of a werewolf attack,

but there seemed to be a far more obvious suspect to me.



Still groggy, I climbed into the shower. There was something 

nagging at me from the interviews we'd conducted yesterday, but

I couldn't put my finger on it. I finished in the shower quickly,

wanting to get to my tape-recorded notes. I was sure if I played

them back, I'd figure out what was pestering me.



With a towel around my head and my bathrobe keeping me warm, I

began to hunt for my mini-recorder. I looked everywhere; my

briefcase, my coat pocket, my purse, my suitcase, but I couldn't

find it anywhere. It could've still been in the car, but I was 

sure I'd had it after we were in for the night.



Remembering the way my mother had taught me to find things, I

began to mentally retrace my steps. The last place I definitely 

recall having it was when we got out of the car. It had been in

my pocket and it banged against the car door as I got out.



After that we'd gone to Mulder's room. He wanted to go over some

case notes and order a pizza. We didn't end up discussing much 

about the case. I think he'd actually just wanted some company 

for supper. I'd taken off my jacket and laid it on the bed. I 

still had the jacket, but no recorder. I must have dropped it in

Mulder's room. When the delivery boy knocked on the door, I'd 

excused myself to use the bathroom. When I got back Mulder had

moved my jacket to the chair so he could put the pizza on the 

bed. That's when the tape recorder must have fallen out of my 

pocket.



In ten minutes I was dressed and at Mulder's door. It was still a

little early for him and he looked bleary-eyed when he opened the

door. When I explained what had happened he graciously waved me 

in to search the chair. After finding my mini-recorder behind the

cushion, I left Mulder to his morning routine, agreeing to meet 

him in an hour for breakfast.



Once back in my room, I retrieved my laptop, plugged my 

headphones into the recorder and prepared to transcribe my notes.

When I looked more closely at the cassette, I was surprised to 

find it at the beginning. I'd left it right where I stopped it

after our last interview. Curious to see what had happened, I

began to fast forward over the interviews, stopping every so 

often to see where I was on the tape. 



When I recognized the final interview, I played the tape back to

see if anything had been recorded. It was possible that one of 

the buttons had been pushed making the tape play to the end and 

then rewind to the beginning on its own.  



In a million years, I never would've guessed what was on that 

tape. When Mulder picked up my jacket he must have inadvertently

pressed the record button. The first thing I heard was Mulder 

taking a breath. 



"Mmm, Scullyscent," he'd whispered almost wistfully after he'd 

exhaled. I was sure I was reading more into his tone than 

was really there. Mulder didn't have a wistful bone in his 

body; at least not when it came to me.



That was followed by a loud knock on the door.



"Coming!" Mulder had called loudly, making me jump. 



Then I could hear Mulder talking to the delivery boy, followed 

by my return to the room. It was weird listening to our 

conversation third hand. But weirder still was Mulder's comment

after he sniffed my jacket. It felt like I was eavesdropping but 

I couldn't stop. I wanted to hear what else was on the tape.



After we finished the pizza, I'd said it was getting late and

I should head back to my room.



"Why don't you stay for a while? They've got triple X via 

satellite?" Mulder had tried to entice me to stay.



"Nah, on satellite you can't fast forward through all of the 

bad acting," I'd joked. 



I heard the sound of me picking up my jacket -- my recorder 

obviously had already fallen out of my pocket. Once we'd said

our goodnights and Mulder had chained the door, he'd sighed

heavily.



"Some day she'll stay." 



At his words, my heart began to ache. I had no idea he was so

lonely. I kept forgetting I was the closest thing he had to

family. I promised myself that next time he asked, I'd stay.

It was hard for me to be happy with the platonic nature of our

relationship, but I knew Mulder saw me strictly as a friend. I'd

given him many opportunities to take or relationship further, but

he'd avoided any type of intimacy between us. The closest we'd

come was our kiss last New Year's eve. It was the most chaste 

kiss I'd been given by any man I wasn't related to. After that

I'd given up hope -- Mulder and I were destined to be best 

friends, nothing more. I tried to keep that in mind as I kept

listening to the tape, but my heart insisted on reading more 

into it.



While I'd been thinking the only noise from the tape was the

sounds Mulder made as he got ready for bed. I'd expected to

hear the TV click on when Mulder got into bed. But it didn't,

he'd apparently decided against the porn.



I was about to click the recorder off when another sound made

my thumb freeze in mid-air. It was a groan, or maybe a moan,

but whatever it was, it was the most erotic sound I'd ever heard.

I knew I should've turned the tape off. I was invading Mulder's

privacy. If I ever found out that he'd listened to me masturbate

I would have been horrified, but I couldn't shut it off. 



Listening to the sounds Mulder was making me extremely warm. 

These were sounds I'd imagined in my fantasies. Sounds I'd dreamt

he'd make when he touched me or when I touched him. Sounds I 

wanted to hear when he was making love to me. 



My attention was drawn back to the tape when I heard more

urgency in his tone. My breath rate had increased to match his.

I was totally ignoring the part of my brain that was telling me

I needed to turn the tape off now. Instead, I listened, my body

frozen in anticipation. 



What I heard next made me drop the tape recorder. Mulder had 

groaned my name when he came. I quickly picked up the recorder 

and played it back several times to make sure. It was as plain 

as day. In the throes of his climax, it had been my name on his 

lips.



I had no idea what to do. Should I confront Mulder with what I'd

heard? That didn't seem like a good idea, it would only embarrass 

him. I needed to think about what this meant. I'd obviously 

completely misread him. If he felt the same way I did, he must 

have another reason for avoiding a relationship. I had to find

out what it was.



Before I left to meet him at the car, I destroyed the tape 

without listening to the interviews. I didn't want Mulder to 

find out that way that I'd heard him. I spent the rest of the

day in a haze. Blindly following Mulder around as he interviewed

more people, all I could think about was the way he'd sounded when 

he came. Mulder commented on my inattentiveness and I lied and

told him I hadn't slept well.



I did notice that Mulder seemed like Mulder. He didn't seem any

different to me. His tongue was never hanging out, he didn't once

gaze longingly at me. If he was desperately in love with me, he

was hiding it well.



When we got back to the motel, he once again asked me to have 

dinner with him while we discussed the case.



"If you want to go and get some rest, I'll understand," his 

voice was gentle.



"I wouldn't sleep anyway," I answered honestly, but most of me

was struck by how gently he'd spoken to me. I couldn't recall

him ever talking to me like that before.



"As long as you're sure."



"Very sure," I answered emphatically.



"Good," he smiled broadly, making butterflies spring to life in

my stomach. "Pizza?"



"Again?" Pizza may have been a staple of his diet, but twice in a

row would be sure to through my body for a loop.



"Chinese?"



"Is there a Chinese restaurant?" I was doubtful.



"I'll find out," he headed for the phone.



By checking with the motel clerk, Mulder found out the number of

what she assured him was the best Chinese food in the area. 

Although I had my doubts, forty-five minutes later we discovered

that she hadn't exaggerated. It was not only the best in the area,

it was some of the best Chinese food I'd ever tasted.



When I could eat no more, I sighed contentedly and rubbed my 

stomach. Mulder looked up from his Chinese noodles and smiled.

We were sitting side by side on the bed, surrounded by empty and

half-empty take-out cartons.



"That will teach you to make assumptions," he chuckled.



"Pardon?" I thought for an instant he had figured out what I'd 

been thinking about all day.



"The Chinese food," he reminded me. 



"Oh right," I laughed. "I'll try to be more open-minded in the

future."



"I'll make a believer out of you yet, Scully."



"I'm sure you will," I smiled as I hauled myself off the bed.



Mulder's eyes never left me as I began to tidy up the cartons,

leaving only the ones he didn't seem to be finished with.



"If you aren't tired, why don't you stay for awhile? They have

HBO here too." The plea I heard in Mulder's voice nearly took my

knees out. Why hadn't I heard it before? Had I been so convinced 

that he didn't have feelings for me that I ignored what he'd been 

trying to tell me with his tone.



"Okay," I smiled at him as softly as I knew how. I hadn't been

planning to leave anyway. I was just trying to clean up a bit, 

but I didn't tell him that.



His eyes widened in obvious surprise at my agreement and he 

suddenly seemed unsure of himself.



"Was there something in particular you wanted to watch?" he 

started looking for his remote.



"Not really," I shrugged. "We could just talk if you want to."



"About the case, right. We were going to talk about that," his

visible nervousness was astounding me. I never dreamt I'd have

this kind of effect on him.



"Only if you want to talk about the case. We could talk about

something else. All work and no play makes Mulder a dull boy,"

I teased him.



"Okay, what did you want to talk about?" Mulder was at a loss

for something to talk about, that was something I never expected. 



I was obviously making him jumpy, so I decided to back off.



"I didn't want to talk about anything special, I thought you

might want to talk about something. Why don't we see if there's

something mindless on?"



"Okay," he seemed relieved to have been given a task. 



In addition to HBO, the motel also had a subscription to a classic

movie channel and we settled on watching "The Sting". It had been

on for a few minutes when we tuned in, but we'd both seen it before

so we knew what was going on.



About halfway through the movie Mulder excused himself to use the

bathroom. While he was gone I took off my jacket, slipped off my

shoes and moved a little bit closer to the center of the bed. 

When Mulder sat down again, his thigh was only inches from mine. 

All it took was an almost imperceptible movement on my part to

bring our bodies into contact. Since Mulder hadn't forced the 

issue, I decided to take matters into my own hands. Had I not

been armed with what I'd heard on that tape, I would never have 

had to courage to make even such a small indication of my feelings.



Initially I was afraid that Mulder would move away when I touched

him. I felt him tense at the contact, but then remain perfectly 

still. A few seconds later he adjusted himself slightly, 

increasing the contact between us.



I'd wanted to talk to him about why he'd avoided starting

something between us, but suddenly I no longer cared. Maybe he

was just as scared as I'd been. Afraid that he'd scare me off

forever if he'd confessed his feelings. Happy to simply have me

in his life if that's all he could have. Whatever his reason was,

I didn't care, as long as it wouldn't keep us apart anymore.



"Mulder?" 



"Hmm?" 



"I don't want to watch the movie anymore."



"Oh, I thought you were enjoying it," he sounded disappointed.



"I was -- well truthfully I was mostly enjoying just being here

with you."



My heart swelled and tears pricked at my eyes as I watched a look

of awe take over his face. His eyes flicked back to the TV for an

instant as he flicked it off and dropped the remote on the bed.



"Me too, Scully," he confessed breathlessly.



"I didn't stay to watch TV or talk," I continued boldly. "I was

hoping you might want to do something else."



My heart leapt when I saw his eyes darken. I must have finally

allayed his fears because his hesitancy fled and was replaced by

the confidence I was so used to. Without a word, he turned and 

took my face into his hands. When our lips met, it was nothing

like our friendly New Year's kiss. This time Mulder's tongue was

seeking entrance into my mouth. I granted it willing. As we made

love with our lips and tongues, we both began to strive for a more 

horizontal position on the bed. 



As we moved, my skirt slid up exposing more of my thighs to 

Mulder. While his hand was sliding up the outside of my leg, I

wantonly reached out to caress his erection.



"Scully," he groaned far more erotically than he had on the

tape.  



"Make love to me, Mulder," I panted, my lust overwhelming me.



"I am," his voice was deliciously raspy.



"Mulder, please," I whimpered and began to tug at my nylons.



"God, Scully," he groaned again. "If you keep that up..."



"I don't care, Mulder." I interrupted him. "I want you inside of

me."



"I care, Scully. I have dreamt about this moment for so long,

I want it to be memorable."



"I'm going to remember this as long as I live, Mulder. And if

this is over quickly that will just mean we can make love for the

second time that much sooner. We can make memories all night if 

you want to."



The words had barely passed my lips and his tongue was plunging 

into my mouth again. He stopped moving slowly. I heard the sound 

of my nylons tearing as he pulled them off. While he was 

divesting me of my panties, I was making quick work of his belt 

and fly. From the position I was in I could only push his pants 

down to his knees. So while he was busily removing my shirt, I 

used my foot to push them to his feet. 



I don't recall when or how we lost the rest of our clothes. My

mind as too overwhelmed by sensation. The sensation of Mulder's

lips on my breast, the sensation of his body pressing against me,

the sensation of being slowly filled by him. 



When he was completely inside of me, I held him still with my 

legs for a moment while I relished the feeling finally having 

him inside of me. He lowered his head to kiss me softly.



"I love the way it feels too," his breath tickled my lips.



I wasn't sure if I'd said something out loud or if he could

read my expressions well enough to know what I was feeling. 



"I love you, Mulder." 



The words came tumbling out before I could stop them. Before I 

had a chance to worry that I'd confessed my love far too early,

Mulder put my fears to rest.



"I love you so much, Scully," he groaned as he began to move 

within me.



Each stroke felt like heaven. Every time our bodies met, I 

moaned. I could tell he was trying to be gentle with me, but

I needed him to be more vigorous if I was going to come. And I

wanted to come. I wanted to urge him on calmly, explaining what

I needed, but I wasn't entirely successful.



"Harder, Mulder. Oh God, please, harder." 



"Yes," he panted and began to thrust into me with all the energy

I needed. 



He'd been worried that coming to quickly would ruin things, but

my speedy orgasm didn't seem to bother him at all. As I quaked

around him, I could hear him gasping.



"So beautiful, so God-damned beautiful."



His words were followed by  several more powerful thrusts and I

clung to him as he began to shudder.



"Scully," he groaned when he came, sending chills through me.



This time it wasn't a recording, elicited by a fantasy. Our

lovemaking had made him say my name this time. I would never

tire of hearing him call my name when he was overcome by passion.

And since I'd destroyed the only recording I had, in future I'd 

have to settle for the real thing. It was a sacrifice I was more

than willing to make.



Peppering soft kisses all over my face and neck, Mulder whispered

"I love you," in between each peck. Then straightening up 

slightly, his eyes searching my face, he haltingly asked, "Are 

you staying?"



Reaching up, I cradled his cheek in my palm. "I love you, Mulder."



"But are you staying?"



"I shouldn't." We both knew what we'd just done was against the 

rules, consorting on the Bureau's dime was frowned upon.



"But are you staying?" His tone was gentle, but his eyes were

pleading with me.



"Yeah, I'm staying," I smiled up at him. "I wanted to make a few 

more memories tonight."



A grin quickly spread across his face. "Good. I like the way you

make memories, Scully."



As he spoke, he rolled off of me and stood up beside the bed. 

Then he bent and scooped me into his arms, making me gasp.



"What are doing?" I was confused.



"Turning down the bed," his voice was still smoky.



"I could've stood up," I pointed out.



"True, but then I wouldn't be touching you."



All I could do was nod. Then he quickly pulled the covers down

and settled us into the bed.



"Can I ask you something, Scully?" He was pulling the blankets

over my shoulder.



"Sure," I snuggled back against him.



"Why here? Why now?"



"Does it matter?" I didn't want to embarrass him.



"It won't change anything, but I'd like to know."



"Let me preface my explanation," I paused briefly. "I've been

in love with you for a long time, but I thought you wanted to 

keep our relationship platonic."



"What gave you that idea?" he laughed.



"Oh, a lot of things, but I can see know that for all of our

investigative skills, neither knew how the other was really

feeling."



"I didn't have a clue," he admitted. "But that still doesn't

explain why now?"



"Well, you know how I left my tape recorder here last night?"



"Yeah," his voice was wary.



"Well, it was recording."



"For how long?" His voice increased in pitch.



"Until you fell asleep," I kept my voice gentle.



He stayed quiet for about a minute and I began to fear I'd made

a mistake by being honest with him.



"And that's why now?" he was quietly amazed.



"Yeah," I chuckled.



"If I'd known that was all it was going to take, I would've taped

myself a long time ago, Scully."





end



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