Chapter Text
Winnetka, Illinois, 1996
"Mulder, it's me."
Fox Mulder struggles not to jump at his partner's usual greeting paired with a knock at his motel room door. He'd been peering at his face in the room's mirror again. It was one of those old-fashioned ones with a carved wooden frame attached to an antique bureau. He'd squashed his cheeks together like a toddler making faces, then lined up his finger to his long, rounded nose and scowled.
"It's not locked," he calls back to her.
Dana Scully enters the room. She looks a good deal fresher now, like she's had a solid eight hours of sleep. She's wearing a smart teal jacket and matching skirt that falls below her knee, accentuating her perfectly toned calves. And she's applied a fresh coat of lipstick. Desert rose, his favorite.
"You ready to go?" she asks him.
Her large blue eyes flit around the room at the tumble of his clothes and books - and his suspiciously empty suitcase. She purses her ruddy, plush lips together and, not for the first time on this case, Mulder considers stealing a kiss from them.
"Mulder, our flight leaves in two hours," Scully reminds him.
She crosses her arms over her small, neat breasts. Mulder imagines stripping off her prim suit jacket with the shoulder-pads and what he knows for certain is her blue lace A-cup and suckling her beautiful, round rosette nipples until she cries out his name.
Her eyes complete their circuit of the room and return to meet his gaze. He can tell she's ready to put this X-File behind them; so is he. Uncharacteristically, Mulder is rattled. A plastic surgeon using black magic and human sacrifice to change his very identity is usual fare for the agents' line of work. However, being surrounded by the shallow and vainglorious, people putting so much money and resources into looking conventionally beautiful and the doctors willing to behave unethically in order to oblige them, has frankly fucked with his self-esteem. Namely, his complicated relationship with his nose.
It's not exactly what Mulder would call conventionally attractive, his nose. And this case, though he's embarrassed to admit it, has put more than one thought in his head about plastic surgery to alter it.
Scully narrows her eyes at him in a discerning look. She gave him a particularly suggestive look back at the hospital yesterday when he told her, quoting Dr. Shannon, "Everyone wants to be beautiful, Scully."
He'd meant it two ways. Scully is without question the most beautiful woman on the planet; he, on the other hand … this case is making him struggle with his self-consciousness.
His partner had given him the biggest bedroom eyes he'd ever seen along with a little smirk that promised some mind-blowing sex that evening back at her motel room. But then Dr. Franklin, depending on who you asked, had cast a spell on his colleague Dr. Shannon and Scully had spent the entire night pulling sharp surgical tools out of the poor woman's intestinal track while Mulder tracked Dr. Franklin and found only the man's face in a pool of blood on an OR floor.
After that, neither of the agents were in any mood for some baby-making.
Mulder didn't expect to get laid on this case. But with his self-image issues being suddenly triggered, he didn't think he could focus enough to pleasure Scully anyway.
"Mulder, you want to tell me what's up or do I have to guess?" she asks him, breaking into his thoughts.
She's gazing up at him with concern now. A tiny line puckers her forehead right between her eyebrows. Mulder fights the urge to kiss it away. He knows good and well his pretty partner isn't going to let this drop; she won't let up until she at least gets an inkling as to what's troubling him.
Mulder puts both of his hands on her shoulders. Such direct contact causes his famously reserved partner's eyes to widen in surprise. "Mulder?" she hums uncertainly. Her voice goes soft and slightly slurry as her protective, nurturing side is roused. "Is everything OK?"
He knows he's in it now. There is no shaking Scully when she's like this. He'd better tell her before she starts checking him for head trauma and insisting he go to a hospital. Still, for Fox Mulder, a man not exactly skilled in dealing with his emotions in a healthy way, it's very hard for him to get out what's troubling him.
"Scully … do - do you think my nose is, erm, ugly?" he stammers.
Her forehead smooths and her eyes crinkle slightly as she fights a smile. Mulder fights a huff of impatience. He's being emotionally available to her, something she insisted on if they are to be a couple; the least she could do is take him seriously.
Seeing his expression, Scully cups his face in her hands, crawling her small fingers down his cheeks to slightly pucker his lips. Her sapphire eyes twinkle up at him. "I'm not laughing at you, Mulder," she soothes him. "Well, I guess I am …"
He opens his mouth angrily, but she continues before he can say anything. "You're the most beautiful man on the planet, I'm sure. How could you think -?"
Mulder looks down to shuffle his feet, embarrassed both by her confession (which also pleases him to no end) and the self-consciousness this case has brought on in him.
"Look at me," she tells him softly.
He looks up into her eyes. "This investigation has troubled me too," she admits. "Being surrounded by people hellbent on looking 'perfect' is toxic, isn't it? It …" Scully glances away shyly. "It kind of made me a bit, well, insecure as well."
Mulder is shocked. "Insecure" and "Dana Scully" don't exactly belong in the same sentence, do they?
He feels his masculine protectiveness aroused. He moves closer to her, looming over her with his bigger body. His nose is level with the top of her head and he inhales her perfume greedily, her vanilla-grass fragrance is like a balm to him.
"In what way?" Mulder asks. "You're a greater doctor than those hacks any day of the week, Scully."
She blushes, causing her freckles to stand out like constellations, something she's deeply embarrassed by, but something he loves. "Yeah, it's some of that," she admits. "But also, well, I know I wouldn't call my nose conventionally pretty."
Mulder stares at her. She flashes him a look of pure mischief and he laughs. Scully … letting him know exactly how it feels for him to confront her with these very same thoughts.
He pushes his face against her neck and whispers passionately into the soft, fragrant curtain of her red-gold hair. "I know for a fact you're more breathtaking than any work those plastic surgeons could produce." He grins as he utters: "With or without black magic!"
She giggles. It's a sound he loves to hear and one he often doesn't from his taciturn partner. He's delighted he can bring it out of her. "And you've never been attracted to conventional things, have you, Mulder?"
He feels his erection stretch the fabric of his trousers' crotch. Scully knows just how to turn him on with her sweet little wiles. Mulder scoops her up in his arms. She gives a squeak of protest; he knows her annoyance comes more from the fact that she's small enough for him to do this instead of the fact that he does. He grins mischievously as he carries her to the bed like his bride.
Mulder lays her down, pantsuit and all, upon the motel room bed. It is neatly-made, just as it was when they arrived here, for Mulder doesn't sleep in a bed unless Dr. Dana Scully is curled up beside him.
His erection is insistent now. There is no way Scully won't notice it. He's always worried he'll offend his reserved partner by being so obvious. However, while she would have blushed and quickly averted her eyes from his arousal only months ago, she happily unbuttons his fly, pulls the zipper and unleashes his big, throbbing, uncircumcised cock.
She slips off the bed and signals for him to sit down which he eagerly does. Scully kneels on the carpet before him and slithers between his knees. Mulder gasps as she grasps his dick firmly in her hand and runs her smooth, cool palm down his shaft. Her other hand squeezes his testicles gently, but just enough to illicit a moan from him. She gazes up at him, blue eyes dancing. She knows the control she has over him.
Just you wait, G-Woman! he thinks as he battles hard against an orgasm. She'll be the one helplessly moaning in just a little while.
Scully kisses the tip of his glans with her sweet lips. Then she unexpectantly spits on his cock and rubs her saliva along with the lubrication of his pre-cum up and down his shaft.
"Scully, stop," he gasps.
If she keeps this up, he'll cum within minutes. He just can't resist her little hands touching his cock.
She pauses and glances up at him tentatively. "Mulder? I thought you wanted this …"
"I do," he says. He strokes her sleek Titian hair. "I really do, but … Scully, if you want me to father your children, then … Then is it OK if they all have their old man's big nose?"
Her expression changes. In one fluid motion, she pounces. She grabs his biceps and pushes him down against the mattress. He's always amazed by her strength, that such physical power is locked up inside of her tiny body. He's felt it before, usually in life-and-death type situations in which she had to haul his weight around. Mulder likes her asserting her strength in this setting. He's shocked, but very pleased at her sudden aggression in this intimate encounter.
She straddles him, her hands pinning his wrists to the bed. Her waterfall of hair tumbles into his face. Scully rears back to sit atop him. She sheds her prim, little teal suit jacket and practically rips her linen blouse off of her torso. Mulder watches her small, neat white breasts tumble out to hang above him in their A-cup blue lace hammocks. Mulder loves her breasts. The left is slightly bigger than the right and the left has a tiny pink scar just above the lovely rosette of her nipple. Mulder derives great joy from suckling them and Scully, gripping his scalp and gasping out his name as he takes first one then the other of her nipples in his mouth, does as well.
She, however, shoves him back down on the bed. Her thighs compress his pelvis as she squeezes her legs together like a rider and he's her mount.
"You really won't believe me?" she says, her voice going low and slightly husky as she eyes him hungrily. He tastes her bee-balm flavored mouth as she stoops down to press her tongue to his; then she breaks the kiss with a sharp nip on his bottom lip.
"Ah!" he cries out in delighted surprise at her boldness.
Scully reaches down to take his cock in her hand. She pumps his member, drawing his foreskin up and over his glans and then down again, lubricating the shaft lavishly with his fluids. Mulder grits his teeth as a wave of euphoria washes over his brain.
She hisses into his ear. "I guess I'll just have to fuck the truth into you!"
"Scully!" he groans.
Her hand grips his dick. He listens to her gasp and feels her thighs tremble and draw up as she guides his tip up to the sweet, flushed folds of her labia. She swirls his glans around the hot entrance to her canal.
She's edging! Mulder cries out her name again in anticipatory delight.
"Mulder … Jesus!" she shrieks.
He can tell she's finding resistance to the sweet surrender of penetrative sex just as difficult as he.
She ducks her head again to whisper against his cheek. "Why would I ask for your sperm if I didn't want every single one of your traits passed along to our children?"
In one single savage thrust, she impales herself upon his shaft. They both cry out - Mulder in passion, Scully in pain. She's always struggled to accommodate his length and girth.
"Oh, Scully … baby," he croons, stroking her fiery tresses.
He feels her entire body shudder as she stretches around his thick cock. "Ahhh! Ah!" she screams.
She sits up upon him. Her body trembles helplessly. Mulder takes her hips into his big hands. Using the utmost gentleness, he helps her bounce atop him, up and down on his erect shaft. He feels the curve of his dick hit her G-spot. She winces appreciatively every time it does until she's working him in a rhythm. She pumps his dick. As she does she grabs his hand and guides his fingers to her clitoris. He eagerly peels her hood away from her rosebud and works her alert and aroused little button until he feels her body convulse with orgasm. This, coupled with his glans pushing against her cervix like a battering ram, sends her into spasms of pleasure. Her body curls over him helplessly.
"Do you believe me now, Mulder?" she rasps against his cheek. Her breath comes in pants, in sobs. "Do you believe I want every single part of you in our babies?"
He feels her walls squeeze his manhood as her pussy greedily milks him. Each contraction of her uterus punctuates her words. "Do you believe … Ah! That I want them to have your … shoulders? Your gorgeous green (Oh!) eyes? And … and … God, Mulder! Your big, beautiful nose?"
"I - I do, Scully!" he moans, throwing himself back against the bed as he ejaculates.
Her pussy grips his cock tight as he cums, holding him in a viselike grip. She wants every last drop of his semen. And she wants him to stay inside of her after the deed is done. She crumbles atop him, her sweat-slick hair falling all around them like a hot, heavy red blanket.
His penis gives a final shudder from deep inside of her body. Mulder wraps his sinewy brown arms with their wheatlike waves of hair around her. He gently rolls over to cradle her. She gasps rapidly for air, as lightheaded and euphoric from lovemaking as he is. He chuckles as he strokes her satiny cheek.
"You make a convincing case, Dr. Scully," he murmurs against her forehead.
She laughs sleepily, the "little death" of lovemaking about to take her into dreams - sweet ones, Mulder hopes. Sweet dreams of their future children, their future family and home.
"Well, that is my job," she states primly, her words only slightly slurred from their taxing, but sweet encounter. "To debunk your more … outlandish theories."
"And I think you just proved that one wrong, G-Woman!" he laughs.
Scully grins and nuzzles her face against his soft brown cloud of chest hair. "Well, I'm sorry, Mulder, but no matter what you believe, all of our children are going to have that beautiful nose of yours."