"Cubed" by Louise Marin - 15/15 - Disclaimers in Part 1
email: l_marin@geocities.com


FIFTEEN:

January 23, 1999
Approx. 2:30 PM

The world was suddenly dark.  Mulder's body was on fire, tingling 
with pleasurable sensation.  He was incredibly aroused.  The 
throbbing in his groin was urging him to slam into the weight, 
whatever it was, that had settled itself over his lap.  He was 
moving his mouth against soft, wet lips.  A tongue slipped into 
his mouth, wrapping sweetness over his teeth, cheeks, and tongue.  
He was sitting up, and his fingers were tangled in soft, silky 
hair.  Opening his eyes, he saw red.  Scully.  His hips 
involuntarily bucked against her where she straddled him, sending 
an agonizingly perfect pleasure through his body.  In response, 
Scully dipped her hips, rubbing herself against the erection that 
was straining inside his pants to get to her.  

"Oh, God, Scully," Mulder moaned against her mouth.  Tightening 
his hold on her waist and her head, he pressed her to him and 
kissed her desperately, recklessly.  She kissed him back with 
equal fervor, their bodies pushing and rubbing against each other.  
She was a fire pressed against his chest and lap, burning him 
through his clothes.  He wanted to bury himself inside her and 
stay there forever.  When he raked his tongue over the roof of her 
mouth, she let out a little gasp and broke the kiss.  Pulling 
back, she looked at him through hooded eyes.  Her mouth was open.  
She was breathless, panting softly in his face.  Her lips were 
red, shiny, and swollen with passion and life.  Unable to think of 
anything but his need to melt into her, Mulder leaned in to take 
her mouth again.

Scully stopped him, laying her hands flat on his chest.  She 
pushed him gently back.  "Mulder, stop."

"Huh?"  Mulder reluctantly loosened his grip on her.  He picked 
his head up and took in their surroundings.  He was sitting on a 
bed in a hotel room.  Scully was straddling his lap, sitting 
firmly on his thighs.  They were both fully clothed.  As coherency 
rushed back to him, Mulder recognized the room.

"Mulder, where are we?" Scully asked, her breath ragged and 
uneven.

"We're in my hotel room.  No...your hotel room.  It's you, right, 
Scully?"

"Yes, it's me.  We...you and she were working on the case?"

Mulder nodded.  Scully moved to get up, but he clamped both his 
hands down on her hips and held her to him.  "Wait," he whispered.  
Mulder looked around the room some more.  

Seeming to catch on, Scully scanned the room as well.  "There it 
is," she said.

"Where?"

"The table.  Next to my bag."

Turning towards the table, Mulder saw the cube.  He shook his head 
in disbelief.  It had happened fast and without warning.  One 
second they were sitting in the forest waiting silently, but 
comfortably, for the cube to do something.  The next second they 
were back at the hotel, in each other's arms, doing...things,
pleasurable things brought on by uncontrollable and pre-heightened 
urges.  In the forest, Mulder had been watching the cube, but had 
not seen any activity from it at all. 

"Did you see the cube in the forest do anything, Scully?" he 
asked, turning back to look at her.  What he saw made his heart 
twist miserably in his chest.

Scully was looking down at her stomach, sadness tainting her 
beautiful face.  He had never seen her look so hopeless.  "It must 
have been their cube that did it, not ours," she said somberly, 
not looking up at him.  "It's in the right position to have hit 
them both...where they were...here...having their reunion, or 
whatever we...they were doing."  

Mulder would have expected her to be either embarrassed or angry 
over the intimate and passionate moment they had just shared.  It 
broke his heart to see her so affected by her sudden emptiness 
that she could not even give the lusty kiss they had shared a 
second thought.  He wanted her to hit him, to punch him, like her 
double had done after he had stolen a kiss from her on the ghost 
ship in 1939.  He wanted to feel anything, and he wanted to see 
her feel anything other than the devastating emptiness he saw in 
her face.  It was emptiness caused, just like everything else, by 
him and his quest.  When would he stop hurting this woman?

Mulder put his hand on her belly, rubbing it softly over her 
shirt.  "I'm sorry," he whispered in her ear.

"Don't be sorry, Mulder.  I chose to come back," she said, looking 
up to meet his eyes.  She appeared  confident, but Mulder knew 
better.  He could see the hurt in her eyes, inside every sad line 
on her face.

Mulder shook his head.  "That's not really what I meant, Scully."

She sighed, her breath puffing softly across his cheeks.  "It's 
never been your fault, Mulder.  None of it," she said.

"I don't think I'll ever stop feeling like it was."

"You need to try," Scully told him softly.  "I don't blame you.  I 
never have."

Mulder nodded but looked away, down at his hand on her stomach.  
He had never known how to forgive himself, not even for things 
that were out of his control.  Not since he was twelve.  

Nudging his hand aside, Scully stroked her stomach, seemingly lost 
in thought.

"You really wanted it, didn't you?" Mulder asked.

"Him," she corrected.  Hesitantly, she opened her mouth to speak 
again, but then closed it before any words emerged.  She frowned 
at her belly, her breathing heavy with sadness.  "Sometimes," she 
finally whispered, "I'm afraid I'll be alone forever."

Mulder could not help being hurt by her words, but he was not 
surprised by them.  How could she know that he would never leave 
her?  He never told her or showed her that he was truly there with 
her to begin with.  He loved her so much, yet she felt so alone, 
and it was his fault again.  Now, though, he felt he could find 
the courage to make her see.  Placing his fingertips on her chin, 
he tilted her face up and looked into her eyes.  "I'm here, 
Scully...for as long as you'll put up with me," he said quietly.

"Is that what you want?"

Mulder nodded.  Scully put her hand on his cheek, stroking his 
skin in soft support.  He wanted to tell her that she was the only 
reason he could live with himself at all, but he could not find 
the words.  He was afraid that they would come out wrong or that 
he would scare her away.  They were so close to something good.  
Instead of speaking, he cupped her cheek with a trembling hand and 
leaned in to place a tiny, soft, chaste kiss on her lips.  It was 
meant to be a first kiss...their first kiss.  It was meant to be 
perfection.  Wanting to be able to start anew, he hoped it would 
erase the passionate, lust-driven embrace they had accidentally 
experienced earlier.  It did.

When they parted, they were both breathless, shaking with fear and 
emotion and thrill.  They spent long, silent moments trembling in 
each other's arms.  Reaching behind Mulder's neck, Scully pulled 
his head forward until his forehead was pressed against hers.  She 
held him there and closed her eyes, never speaking, barely 
breathing.  Mulder felt panic begin to rise in his chest.  He had 
done the wrong thing.  It was too intense; they were not ready.  
He should never have kissed her.

Blinking back tears, he was about to apologize when Scully finally 
spoke.  "We need to do this slowly, Mulder," she whispered.

Relieved, Mulder was able to breathe again.  He nodded against her 
forehead.  "I know."  He swallowed hard.  "Scully..." he started, 
but then hesitated.  "I don't know how to say all the things I 
want to tell you, Scully."

Scully opened her eyes, studying him from two inches away.  
"Slowly, Mulder," she finally said, a tiny, trembling smile 
curling her lips.

All Mulder could do was nod again.

"Are we supposed to be working the case this afternoon?" she 
asked.

"Yes.  We are," he said, his voice hoarse and unsteady.

Scully moved to get off him, but he held her back again, his hands 
still on her waist.  He leaned in for one more tiny kiss, just as 
chaste as the last.  It was a promise.  It said that he would not 
forget that things had changed.

When he released her, she climbed off his lap.  She was blushing 
and quiet, but smiling.  Mulder told himself that this was a good 
thing, a very good thing.  Trying hard not to start grinning like 
an idiot, he turned his attention to the cube.  It was still on 
the table, and he and Scully were still in direct line of fire.  
He jumped up and tossed it into Scully's duffel bag, zipping the 
bag closed.  "There," he said.  "If it activates again, only your 
clothes will get switched."

Scully shook her head.  "I think it only works on people, Mulder.  
My clothes certainly didn't come with me before."

Mulder watched her for a moment, thinking.  She started to blush 
under his scrutiny.  He grinned wickedly.  "You woke up in his 
bed, didn't you?"

"Yes.  Yes, I certainly did," she said, smiling sheepishly, her 
cheeks turning redder by the second.  "I think we should get rid 
of that, Mulder."  She gestured to the duffel containing the cube.

Mulder nodded.  "This baby could do some serious damage.  I was 
thinking about giving it to Frohike.  If I'm a perfect, whole man 
with an ideal life over there, he's probably a porn star."

Scully chuckled.  "No, Mulder, I meant get rid of it."

"I know.  We'll bury it or something.  Someplace far away."  He 
tossed the bag into Scully's open closet and shut the door.  
"Let's go look at the case."

They moved over to Mulder's room, where he grabbed the case file 
and sat on the couch.  He was pleased when Scully chose to sit 
next to him.  

"Mulder?" she asked as he was beginning to put the file back in 
order.

"Hmm?"

"What was she like?"

Mulder thought about the fact that his Scully and the other Scully 
shared the most wonderful of qualities.  His Scully still had her 
compassion, strength, intelligence, and sweet spirit despite the 
hell he had towed her through for the past six years.  He thought 
that maybe he had not ruined her after all.  "She was a lot like 
you, Scully," he said, smiling to himself.

Scully smiled and looked up at him.  "He was a lot like you, too, 
Mulder," she said.

Mulder nodded.  He wrapped his arm lightly around her, and they 
went over the case, their heads together, as always.


(END 15/15)

"Did I dream this belief...Or did I believe this dream?"
Peter Gabriel - 'I Grieve'


End Notes:

This is my first fanfic.  I hope it was as much fun for you to read 
as it was for me to write.  It really was a blast.  When I get 
inspired, I will definitely write again.  Nevertheless, I would 
LOVE to receive any feedback you care to give at: 
l_marin@geocities.com

Special thanks to my cybermom for the reading, the comments, the 
encouragement, and for pushing me out of the nest when the time was 
right.  Thanks again, wolfmom.

LM