#a plate on top of him to keep him from bucking like a bronco

[eaudecrow]

I am making DCA pins >:)

@oobbbear as promised, these are dedicated to you for the inspiration and advice!

[lilmissnatcat24]

am i... becoming someone who enjoys writing fight scenes? who is this person i see in the mirror?

((major turn left spoilers obvi))

There was a moment, just one, where Garrus, Kaidan, and Saren stared at each other silently, the anticipation of a fight so palpable that Garrus could taste it on the back of his tongue, the flavor of tar. The air was impossibly thick, his mouth went sour, his vision started to blur as if he was about to pass out. 

Saren took off sprinting towards Anderson’s body, the forcefield around Liara dropping. Garrus and Kaidan scrambled after him, one thought repeating in Garrus’s head like a mantra he almost said out loud: Whatever happens, don’t let Saren get to Andrerson.

Saren threw a smoke grenade behind him in his wake, sizzling at Garrus’s feet before smoke began billowing out. It burned Garrus’s lungs like someone had replaced the inner lining with fiberglass, tears streamed down his cheeks. But he didn’t stop running forward, didn’t let the incessant hack that forced its way out of his mouth slow him down in the slightest. He dampened Saren’s omnitool, which sparked and left an acrid smell behind of burnt flesh as Kaidan, glowing bright blue, thrusted inwards with his fists, pulling Saren’s legs out from underneath him. 

Garrus wasted no time. He lept on top of Saren, throwing his entire weight onto his body, feeling the air being forced from his lungs like popping a balloon. Saren, now on his back, tried to claw Garrus’s face, swiping madly for his eyes or the inside of his mouth. Kaidan was there before Garrus could even see him, pinning his elbows down on the ground so that he could barely move his arms. Saren tried to twist around to his stomach so that he could try and kick Garrus off of his chest like a bucking bronco, but Garrus didn’t give him much of a chance. He grabbed Saren by the crest and slammed his head into the ground. The first few times weren’t nearly as effective as Garrus would have liked; Saren was slippery, the band he wore around his fringe was a softer satin material that was hard to get a good grip on. But Garrus, with his thumb lodged clean above Saren’s noseplate, managed to get one good slam in, causing Saren’s eyes to bounce in his sockets. 

A blinding pain struck up Garrus’s entire body, causing him to let go of Saren. To his horror, so did Kaidan. He was frozen for a moment, his body rigid in shock. Saren had electrocuted him, either from his tool or his armor. With a grunt he pushed Garrus off of his chest and stumbled towards Anderson, definitely slowed but with so much palpable malice it oozed from his mouth like drool. 

Kaidan, still on the floor, sent shockwave after shockwave in Saren’s direction. He managed to keep on his feet, wobbling greatly. But it had a different purpose-- Anderson’s still body, just a few feet away from Saren, tumbled down the stairwell, now at least fifty feet away from him. Saren growled as he struggled to stand, his feet glued to the ground in the immense quake. Which didn’t last long, since Kaidan managed to crawl upwards and climb onto Saren’s back. 

He pulled backwards with everything he had, his face so red Garrus was afraid he was going to pass out. Saren wobbled once more, but at the end of the day Kaidan wasn’t too heavy compared to a turian. Saren threw him off, bouncing down the stairs as if he were a lot more buoyant than he looked. 

Garrus didn’t give Saren a chance to catch his breath. He unloaded his rifle into his armor. The bullets, for the most part, bounced off harmlessly. But in between rounds, Garrus managed to overload his shields. Flickering violently, Garrus saw a few bullets hit true. Saren doubled over, clutching his stomach, his plates turning a languid gray color. 

He didn’t have much time to savor his victory. Saren pointed his geth arm at Garrus, and after making a loud, whirring power up noise, unleashed something. He couldn’t tell if it was a grenade or projectile or energy beam. He didn’t care. All he knew was that it was bright yellow and it hit him in the carapace and it hurt like hell. His heart spasmed in his chest, the intense pain felt as though someone had taken a hand in the tendons that crossed over his heart and pulled so tight they threatened to snap. Garrus fell to the ground, gagging profusely, as Saren’s fringe disappeared down the steps. 

He heard the all-too familiar sound of a static singularity field. Garrus crawled over to the ledge to see Kaidan, blood pooling from his nose, as he detonated not just one, but two singularity fields on either side of Saren. He whirled in the air, faster and faster and faster until it became dizzying just for Garrus to watch. As he managed to his feet, a pounding headache pulsing behind his eyes, Kaidan gasped out in pain. He, and the singularity fields, fell as the skinny, red laser from Saren’s boot evaporated in the air, replaced with a stream of red blood from his stomach. 

Garrus didn’t have time to think. He lept down the stairs, throwing out a flashbang grenade with him. It exploded in a bright white flash at Saren’s feet, and suddenly Garrus was on top of him once more. But this time Saren knew what to expect, and without Kaidan holding back his arms, he quickly turned out of Garrus’s hold. Saren lunged forward, aiming straight for Garrus’s head. The bad part about hand-to-hand combat with another turian was that he knew all of Garrus’s weak spots. His fingers, ignoring Garrus’s attempt to swat them away, wedged themselves right underneath his crest and started to pull. 

It was a pain Garrus had never felt before. Blinding, it radiated down to the back of his knees and made the irregular thumping in his chest all the more prominent. He felt his eyes roll to the back of his head, the pain so agonizing he was sure he was either about to piss himself or throw up all over Saren. He blindly fumbled in front of him, trying to find some joint that would relinquish Saren’s grip on Garrus, or punch him in just the spot where he could get some relief. But his arms were getting heavier and heavier, his vision went from white to dark, he felt himself falling towards the floor--

[nickysurfer28]

Hot sessions: man cave part 2

This one is for @denisemarieangelina she wanted to have a Nomad Steve Rogers visit her this time in the man cave. Lol 😂 Just has you requested my lady. Here you go. You might need a fan. FYI.

Warning ⚠️: 18+ only , smut , fluff, nudity, etc.

Pairing : Densie (female reader) x Nomad Steve Rogers (infinity war)

It was finally Friday and after a long week of tropical storms and hot humid weather Denise couldn’t wait to retreat to your husband’s man cave for Movie night. Tonight, was the night for Avengers: Infinity War. Nomad Steve Rogers was another of your favorite besides Captain America Winter Soldier version. His long fluffy hair and his full beard in effect. All Denise could think about was how hairy his chest and nipples could be under that suit of his.

“I could just picture that man’s sexy hairy chest.” She quickly snapped back into reality. She finishes setting the movie on the Xbox and quickly text the girls on the chat room.

Chat room:

Denise: hey ladies, I’m all set up and ready to go! I’m just going to make popcorn really quick. I’ll be back.

Nicky: Okie Dokie

Dalia: okay momma

Shannon: take your time!

Tanya: no rush!

Denise headed into the kitchen to quickly make your popcorn. Just as she was about to pour the popcorn into the bowl your kitchen started shaking like an earthquake was happening.

“What the hell is going on!” She went to check outside but no signs of destruction anyway.

“That’s weird” She continued her way back to the man cave with the popcorn.

Just as Denise entered the man cave there stood this tall figure. She dropped the bowl of popcorn to only notice it was Steve Rogers.

“Oh ...again?!” Denise stared in awe to notice this time it was nomad Steve Rogers from Infinity War. “Holy shit...”

“Ma’am, I’m sorry to intrude but, where am I?” Steve stood firm with his hands on his utility belt.

“Uh...well you’re in my house.” She just stood there in shock. Her eyes traced his entire body.

“Well, I think I got pulled into some portal and it brought me here... you look familiar?” Steve replied.

“I believe another version came to visit me before,” Denise answered.

“Oh. well I’m Steve Rogers. You are?” Steve replied.

“I’m ... uh. oh, I’m Denise.” She replied.

“Well it’s a pleasure to meet you Denise.” Steve smiled and out his hand out for a handshake.

“Oh. pleasure is all my Steve.” She smiled back and shake his hand.

Denise could tell he looked tired and his suit was worn out. The star on his suit was gone and it looks like he hadn’t showered and eaten properly in days. She wanted to offered him a warm meal and a hot shower. The Italian women in her offering food was just second nature. She couldn’t resist because it was freaking Steve Rogers.

“Would you like something to eat Steve, possibly take a hot shower and maybe I could clean your suit” Denise replied.

Steve almost hesitated at first but the sound of a hot meal and a shower sounded good. “Sure. that would be great.” Steve smiled.

She brought him to the bathroom and showed him where the towels were. Denise left to clean up and told him she would make his meal while he washed up.

“I’ll be out here if you need anything.” Denise replied.

Steve nodded. “Thank you, Denise.”

Denise quickly headed into the kitchen and thought about making pasta. “Oh, I still have leftover spaghetti sauce...I could just make the pasta really quick.” Not long she finished making the pasta, she heated up the leftover spaghetti sauce.

Everything was all done and ready. Steve came out into the kitchen but with just a towel around his waist. Denise stood there in awe of his hairy chiseled body. He had his suit in hand.

“Sorry to come out like this. If you show me where the laundry room is, I can do it myself.” Steve replied.

“Um... uh yeah it’s right down the hallway to your left.” Her face was flushed red from the site of his body.

He smiled. “Thank you. Also is there something I can wear besides this towel.”

“Uh. yes. I’ll ...let ...check.” she stuttered.

“By the way the meal smells delicious.” Steve replied and headed into the laundry room.

She hurried out of the kitchen trying to compose herself. “Wow. that body on that man...I need a fan”

She found shirt and loose sweatpants that look like would fit Steve. She headed over to the laundry room to find Steve turning on the machine and starting the cycle to wash. Your eyes glanced up and down his delicious hairy body.

“Hey. Steve, I found shirt and sweatpants to wear while your suit gets washed.” Denise replied blushing.

“Thank you, Denise, I really appreciate it.” Steve replied.

“Oh. uh. I’ll let you get dressed. I’ll be in the man cave to clean up that popcorn I drop.” Denise replied.

She left Steve to get dressed. He came back to the kitchen and sat at the table. She brought over the hot plate of pasta to him. Steve smiled and happily ate the hot food. He seemed pleased. He offered to clean his plate and she let him since she wanted to go clean up your popcorn spill.

She grabbed the broom and headed into the man cave to clean up the popcorn that dropped on the floor. As she was cleaning, she felt these big hands wrap around her waist. Denise could feel him closing in from behind. Steve rubbed himself against her body. Her eyes widen by the feel of his hard member.

“Steve... um.” Denise replied.

“Did I say you could stop.” Steve replied.

“Oh. so that’s how you want to be. Well” Denise replied with a chuckle.

Denise turned around to face Steve. His face wasn’t please with her actions. She faced him with a big smirky grin. She traced her fingers along his beard down to his chest. He looked deep into your eyes. Her hands keeping wandering all over his chest until she reached for his already hard cock.

“Oh Steve...well. Well.” Denise giggled with excitement.

“Is that a bit much for you Denise.” Steve replied.

She couldn’t help herself any longer. Denise took a hold of Steve and threw him on the other recliner in the room.

“I want to break this chair in now” Denise replied. Without any hesitation you climbed on top of Steve ripping the shirt off and exposing his chiseled hairy chest and nipples. “God... I knew it !!”

Steve helped her out of the shirt, unclamping your bra letting out your large breasts. Steve dove into your chest kissing and sucking your breasts greedily. She laced her fingers thru his long fluffy hair moaning in ecstasy.

“Wow. Steve...ahh.” She yelled with excitement.

“You want this...Denise “Steve replied. “God !!...yesses!!” Denise squealed.

Steve helped her out of her pants and underwear with ease. He ripped the sweatpants off revealing his hard cock bobbing in the air. Denise quickly placed herself on-top of his hard cock. She could feel his thick hard cock feeling up inside. Denise began to ride him like a bucking bronco. Steve matched with her speed and thrusting deep inside as well.

“Oh yes!” She yelled out as she could feel him going deeper and harder with his thrusts. This Steve was different from the last Steve Rogers they visited here. He already been thru so much and more experienced.

“Yeah, take my big hard cock!” Steve grunted loudly.

“Oh Steve...” she squealed loudly.

Steve picked up the pace thrusting faster. She titled her head and arched your back feeling his hands squeeze on her large breasts as he pumped deep inside her. He sucked and nibbled on her nipples making her moan in sweet ecstasy. Denise pulled on his long hair as her hands trace down to his shoulders digging her fingers into his back. He grunted pumping you even more. Denise could feel the hot flush of the climax rising.

“Oh God! Steve! I’m going to cum!” Denise yelled.

“Yes, cum on my cock!” Steve replied heavily breathing. He thrusted faster this time feeling her body ready to climax. He finally spilled his hot seed inside her core. You both just collapsed there in the recliner all sweaty heavily breathing. Steve trying to catch his breathe.

“Damn women ... you were something else.”

“Oh yeah...so were you Steve.” Denise replied trying to catch her breathe.

She cleaned herself up and put on some comfy clothes. Steve finished cleaning up himself and got his suit back on. He met you back in the man cave.

“Well. Denise that was. exciting.” Steve replied.

“Same. here.” She giggled.

Steve kisses you gently on your forehead and gives her a big warm hug. She didn’t want to let go of his warm embrace.

“God this feels so good” She looked up into his blue eyes meeting with his warm smile. Steve kisses Denise gentle on the lips. He lets go and walking thru the vortex and disappears.

She can hear the cellphone beeping somewhere in the room. She quickly finds it on the table. There are over 20 notifications from the girls in the chat room. “Wait until. I tell the girls! this time it was nomad Steve.”

Tags: @denisemarieangelina @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @waywardodysseys @daliaevans @pine-fresh-kirk @tanyam93 @mizcaptainphoenix @ohmy-captain @deidrashouseofpain @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @jtargaryen18 @kelbabyblue @kellyn1604 @luna8819 @ok-buchanan @shreyaaaaaaaaaaaa @shellbilee @lovinevans @jms358 @amazonx @americasass91 @thatsxamericasxass @thatgirly81 @katiew1973 @iamwhoiamtmblr @nomadevans82 @icanfeelastormbrewing @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @chris-butt @brilliantkey @bellaireland1981 @softbeanevans @captainchrisstan @captaincrazyexlover @oddsnendsfanfics @branflakes82 @littlefiercequeen @trishevans @evans713 @comebackandhauntme21 @southerngracela @wintrcaptn @star-spangled-beard-burn @artisticrogers1972 @donutloverxo @fafulous @imanuglywombat @nekoannie-chan

[vivxwrites]

Lovers Quarrel

*not my gif*

Word Count: 1625

Warning(s): None? Some injuries. Ca:cw spoilers (lol)

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

A/N: hi! i sincerely apologize for the wait so here’s this! It was requested by an anon here and i hope whoever that whoever it was gets to read it! 

The scene painted out before you reminded your idle mind of those that occurred during the times of ancient history, tales recorded on wooden tablets and later translated into a world of empires and invasions. Tales of kings and commanders and armies, tales of power struggles and barbaric actions. Where city-states were just barely discovering copper and iron and steel and metal and where one-hundred-year-old super soldiers didn’t magically freeze and thaw out, only to wake up seventy something years later. Where there was no Iron Man, or Hawkeye, and where there were certainly no Black Widows. No Black Widows that slowly extended their long legs over your heart and nestled down deep, deep enough to just nearly become one with the genetic coding of the cells that made up one of the most vital organs in your body. You furtively wished that you weren’t part of the timeline filled with superhumans and ex-Russian assassins and men that flew around in suits engineered by a certain genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist.

Despite your desperate wishes here you were, lined up in an airport hanger with half of the avengers that you had chosen to align yourself with. Across from you stood your friends, your family, and your- well, you weren’t quite sure what exactly Natasha was to you.

You could feel her eyes fixated on you, and whether fury or concern were being directed at you, you weren’t too sure, especially seeing as you refused to even flick your own eyes in her general direction. 

Her tiny huff of annoyance didn’t go unnoticed by you and you cursed whatever government officials deemed the Accords an appropriate measure of action. If splitting the Avengers into two was the reaction they were oh so kindly hoping to achieve, then their overpriced bottles of champagne were most certainly cork-less by now.

Your whole body ached with the primal need to see the love and adoration that you had grown used to in the now familiar jade-green eyes of one Natasha Romanoff. Your bones had long since endured the weight of sorrow and regret and by this point, the precipice of this protracted conflict, you were feeling the full weight and brunt of a word solely known as exhaustion. 

You were pulled from your period of self-awareness by the start of the fight, the war, between two forces that had been nearly unstoppable when combined. What the outcome would be, you hadn’t the slightest clue and you were whole-heartedly not looking forward to finding out.

And so you did your best to avoid the stunning red-head who made your head swim with thoughts that you were definitely not supposed to be thinking while tossing punches at some guy in a panther suit. As the battle dragged on, however, you were unpleasantly forced to find out that your attempts to avoid that certain someone were meaningless.

She looked as good as ever in her sleek combat gear and good god what you wouldn’t give to smash your body against hers in a hug tight enough to crack the pistachio nuts you had deemed ‘breakfast’ just this morning.

“(Y/N).” She spoke with a tone of indifference and you flinched at the fact that it was being directed at you. Of course you felt immense guilt for not sticking by Natasha’s side but how could you when your beliefs lay with the opposite team? How could you sit back and sign a contract that basically handed over your freedom and everything that you had worked so very hard to achieve when you were something of a Hydra experiment yourself? How could you possibly be able to sign your life away to the sleazy, wrinkly men that called themselves the American Government when you had been in Bucky’s shoes not too long ago? And if you had deserved a chance to change then god fucking dammit so did he.

Needless to say, this was the biggest lovers quarrel in history.

“Nat,” you bit down hard on your lip in an attempt to stop its trembling, “I-“

Thought you loved me, you wanted to say, thought you would understand how much this meant to me, thought you would stand up for me. Your throat bobbed up and down as you swallowed the vowels and consonants of the phrases thickly, their bitter aftertaste more unpleasant than that of the tangy salt water that she made you gargle when you got sick.

You could only stare wordlessly at Nat and she, you. The entire fucked up situation made you feel sick, a constant state of unsettlement rushing through your veins alongside the anger and hatred that you felt for the so-called ‘higher ups.’ And then finally, Clint, bless that man, intervened and off he and Nat went, twisting and turning as if they were the cats and dogs you used to mindlessly watch on television when a nightmare of yours was particularly bad.

The telltale shink of Steve’s shield meeting its target had you cringing inwardly. You heard him holler your name and off into the fray you went, ducking under a stray metal suit and jumping over the cracks in the concrete that made up the hanger. 

“Cap. You called?” You dragged your gaze from him to the hulk of a man next to him and as hard as the soldier tried to remain stoic, you saw the guilty look that hid away in the top corner of his eyes. 

“Buck and I need to get to that hanger over there, can you cover us?” When Steve spoke, your gaze remained on Bucky. You gave him a small, reassuring smile before turning back to Steve.

“It’s what I do best, Captain.” He nodded stiffly and you could tell that something was bothering him. “What? You worried about lil ‘ol me or something?”

He sighed deeply, “You know Natasha would kill me if you get hurt.” 

You felt your nostrils flare in annoyance, “Natasha’s not exactly here right now, is she?” Of course that wasn’t one hundred percent true but from what you could see of her, flashes of red and black every so often, it seemed she was quite busy with problems of her own.

“(Y/N)-“ 

“Steve please. Do you want my help getting across this airport or not?” He finally nodded again and you nodded back.

The three of you took off towards the destination and were about halfway there when the sound of thrusters drew nearer. You cursed to yourself and kept running until Tony dropped down in front of you, the face-plate on his mask retracted as if he wanted the three of you to see just how angry he really was.

“Stark,” You drawled, “how nice to see you.”

“You too sweetheart.” He growled and you sneered at him.

You waved Steve and Bucky forward, signaling that you could handle Tony. They threw you reluctant looks before finally taking off. “You don’t want to tango with me hun.”

A self-satisfied smirk crawled onto your face, “Oh but I do.”

He fired a blast at you and you dodged with a perfectly placed combat roll, positioning yourself behind some loading crates. When Tony flew closer to you, you reached up and clamped your arm onto the arm of his suit and held tight as he swore and flew about, trying to knock you off. When bucking you about like a bronco didn’t work he retracted the faceplate again and smirked at you, “Hope you’re not afraid of heights.”

Tony flew skyward and you held on with all the upper body strength you had as he reached a dangerous height, wherein if you fell you wouldn’t necessarily die, but the impact wouldn’t be the nicest experience.

Your arms burned with the exertion of holding your body weight up and you could feel your fingers beginning to slip on the cool metal of the suit.

“Rhodes, get ready to catch this lovely package.” After Tony’s statement your grip finally gave out and you went tumbling to the ground, a view of smoke and the blue cloud-ridden sky accompanying you.

Rhodey was nowhere to be seen as you fell, ten feet left, then five, until you landed on the ground with a sickening crunch and pain shot up your spine. You tried to scream in agony but the sound wouldn’t come out, as if your vocal chords themselves were feeling the vibrations of the tight, coiling pain. 

Distantly you could hear screams and yelling but you couldn’t make out whom the sounds belonged to. Your eyelids felt heavy and your body twisted and writhed every which way on the ground in an attempt to fight the pain in your system. The ground shook with the approaching footsteps of someone but then again you were too out of it to comprehend if it was instead the violent shaking of your spine beneath you that you were feeling.

“Moya lyubov,” Nat panted desperately and reached over to cup your cheeks in her warm hands, “are you okay?”

“Nat,” you cried, “M’ sorry baby.”

She shushed you and leaned down to press her forehead against yours, the first few tears rushing down her face, “Shh. No, (Y/N), honey it’s not your fault.”

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered desperately. “I’m so sorry.”

“Baby please, stay with me. Keep your eyes open for me.” Her voice sounded distant even with her close proximity and your eyelids were just so heavy and you could feel yourself giving in, succumbing to the black just visible at the edge of your vision. You took one last peak at Natasha until you finally closed your eyes.

When you woke up you were all alone, cuffed to a hospital bed in an unfamiliar room.

A/N: Listen, I don’t know what this is or why I have inserted some weird world history shit into the fic but please just accept it for what it is. I’m satisfied as hell that I managed to throw this together and have it out to y’all by today so I beg of you to be proud of me for finally putting out some content, regardless of its questionable grammar and spelling and odd facts. Have I done good or have I done goofed, please let me know. Love always, Viv <3

Permanent Tag List: @autumnjackson4 @captainwonderwidow @5aftermidnight @blushycarol @pruemania @lesbian-x-blackwidow @taramitch96 @fansanctuary @envy-adamss

[tatooedlaura-blog]

Skee-bal

@today-in-fic please and thank you :)

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

He’d had to haul ass through the airport, dodging everyone and their irritating, unsupervised rolling suitcases and then, huffing and puffing from lack of oxygen, discovered his flight was delayed by an hour at least. He’d dropped his phone in the hurry, four pieces retrieved in the end, one lost under a maintenance door he didn’t have time to find a guy with a key to open. Now, jammed between two men who had to be linebackers for the Broncos, he prayed in some form for as much alcohol as the stewardess could legally allow him.

He got a bag of pretzels and a Sprite.

Linebacker A to his left sneezed towards him.

The uncovered Sprite went untasted.

With the way his life had been going for the past week, this was actually one of the better moments, sadly enough.

Some kind of asinine weather completed his travels, slowing down flying speed and landing possibilities, circling for 45 minutes before hitting the tarmac fast and bumpy, an enlightening nightmare for everyone in the plane but Mulder, who was sandwiched so solidly between Linebacker A and Linebacker B that he never moved an inch, forward or to the side. Wanting to kiss the ground when he finally stepped off the concourse, he hefted his backpack instead and headed to baggage claim.

We will not talk about the incidents at baggage claim except to say that ‘motherfucker’ was repeated silently in his head a multitude of times.

Car, street, traffic, home!

Only to see his tux still hanging on the closet door where he’d left it a week ago as a reminder that he had a party to go to.

The only thing that made him not want to die about this impending shindig was Scully … Scully in a fancy dress … Scully in a fancy dress drinking fancy liquor and eating fancy food and he’d better get in gear or else she’d be looking all fancy but be pissed as hell inside because he’d left here there unprotected from all those people she really didn’t want to spend her Friday night with.

Although they were Smithsonian uppities so she’d have plenty of conversation fodder but no one to rescue her when she got that look on her face he knew only too well.

Regardless, he hurried, showered, shaved, spritzed and shimmied until he looked like a million bucks and some change, finally pulling up to the National Museum of Natural History fashionable late.

&&&&&&&&&&&

She’d had better weeks … but in the grand scheme, she hadn’t been shot at so in the end, it wasn’t a terrible seven days by any means.

Then again, when Ritter had shot her, she’d at least gotten to sleep in.

She’d been up and out the door every morning at 5am, coming home after midnight, hating with a full on passion anyone and everyone who wasn’t Skinner. The paperwork nightmare had avalanched, Mulder not there to offer an answer to her questioned where involving this witness testimony or that scrap of receipt that the entire case hinged on. She couldn’t bother him, knowing he’d just say, “um, maybe behind that thing that related to the other thing or in that drawer,” and send her on a wild goose chase with the thing she needed being neither in the drawer nor behind the other thing but in fact, still in his coat pocket.

Plus, if she called him, he’d go off his game. He’d be thinking about the case she was asking about instead of the serial nightmare he was trying to imprison until the end of time plus another month just for fun.

So, she left him alone.

Mind you, they had talked everyday since he left but usually only after hours, discussing useless things and nonsense, Scully doing her best to quiet his mind so he could get some sleep, think about the questions he needed to answer and the problems, inherent, that came with those answers. She could feel him, across the country, calm, relax, begin to drift off with slow words and slower breaths, eventually telling him a quiet goodnight and an even quieter sleep well.

But now, knowing he’d be landing in 37 minutes, she, for reasons undwellable in that sliver of time, took a little extra care with her makeup, her hair, twisting that escaped curl into an oddly perfect position, knowing he’d move it when it began catching on her eyelashes while she talked to him, tuck it back, linger a moment, turn red when he realized what he was doing, linger another second then remove himself to a safe distance, drink, talk, return to the beginning of their recycled game.

She held the fantasy for .4 seconds then moved to find her shoes.

&&&&&&&&&

Standing across the room, she saw him come in, do the standard ‘stop and scan’, hope to zone in on his partner, catch the subtle red-hair, pale skin amongst taller, irritatingly grouped men in black.

Men in black.

He was a man in black tonight.

He was amused.

‘Cause … you know … men in black.

Wow, he really needed a nap or a drink, whichever came first.

But on Scully’s end, she saw him unable to find her, turn the wrong direction, head polar opposite to what she figured correctly as the food tables. When he couldn’t find her, he always headed to the next best spot, knowing she’d show up eventually, given he knew her stomach just as well as she did. About to head his way, she wasn’t paying close enough attention and the accosting took her by surprise, finding her suddenly surrounded by four gangly employees whom she had worked with many times and were, from what she could comprehend given her mind was still on Mulder, asking her if she’d like a tour of the archives downstairs.

The boys were nice, polite but slightly overenthusiastic about all things insect, vertebrate, legged and winged and taking into account how much they had helped her and Mulder over the years, she felt a tugging obligation to follow, listen, offer interest in all the proper places when she really wanted a rum and coke and to talk to Mulder.

But she was some kind of decent human being so she gave her tour guides almost an hour before she begged off, claiming starvation and need to circulate for the good of the FBI, her boss, the world in general.

They were just happy they got to show off for her.

&&&&&&&&&

It was indeed a fancy dress and by the time it sidled up beside him, he had seen it, cataloged it, burned it into his memory for all eternity. The partner wearing it wasn’t bad herself, a smile creeping across his face slowly but surely as she walked towards him, scooting in beside as opposed to across the table like normal partners would.

He was very glad they weren’t normal partners.

“So, where have you been hiding?”

“Kidnapped by McMaster, Philips, Squeegie and Tom.”

Sliding his drink into her waiting hand, “you need this more than I do.”

Grateful for the share, she drank, then, “they showed me the archive … downstairs.”

“Downstairs? Sounds ominous. You should have let me tag along.” Shifting his head down towards her, “any of them work up the nerve to ask for a date yet?”

“Squeegie took a deep breath and said ‘Agent Scully’ but then stopped, started sweating and proceeded to lecture for 20 minutes on Acherontia Atropos. It’s the closest he’s gotten so far.” Finishing off the last swallow of his slightly watered-down drink, she looked at him critically, “we should go get some more of those.”

With a grin, “you go grab some food, I’ll get the drinks and meet you back here in two minutes.”

“Deal.” Tugging at his jacket, “leave this here so people know the table’s claimed. I don’t need anymore irritating small talk tonight. I’ve done enough.”

Removing the coat, “back in a flash.” Flash indeed, minute forty-five to be precise, beating his partner by two minutes, able to watch her return with several heaping plates of nibbling nonsense, balanced alone by some act of God, given the height of her heels and the alcohol just beginning to tease her system. He knew it, could see that shine in her eyes and wanting to smile wider than he already was, he held it in, instead reaching out to take a plate, “I beat you back.”

“I had to fight for the last meatballs for you. Hopefully I didn’t leave a bruise on Dennison.”

He honestly, for half a second, wondered if she was serious but then she waved a toothpicked piece of meat under his nose and he didn’t care anymore. Taking it, devouring it, proceeding through three more, he finally slowed, “how’s your drink?”

“Empty. Thanks for bringing me two.”

“Just don’t slam this one or I’ll be pouring you into bed later.”

And he watched her fumble her salami encircled cream-cheese attempt at filling food, nearly dropping it to the table before she recovered with a stutter, “I’ll … I’ve never … I do not slam drinks, Mulder.”

“Okay, little Miss empty glass.”

Hardly in a spot to deny it, given the empty glass in front of her, she shrugged those well-defined, muscle-sculpted shoulders to throw him off his own game a little then nudged him with her foot, “did I tell you you clean up pretty well?”

“You’re not looking too bad yourself.”

“Not too bad?”

Leaning over, leaning in, leaning down, “give me a little while and there’s a really good chance I’ll be telling you that you are the most beautiful person in this room, probably DC and possibly the world.”

That was a nice shot of warmth through her system and trying to keep her voice even, “little while?”

“Need some more liquid courage. Give me 20 minutes, tops.”

“I think you said it just fine without the liquor or the time limit.”

Warming himself, he returned to the plates, fully ready to eat his way through the pile of cheese, “just help me eat some of this, would you?”

With a smile, she did.

&&&&&&&&&&&

Skinner found them shortly after, then several others they’d worked with on occasion, both happily and irritatingly but Benson took the cake, berating Mulder, belittleing Scully and, in the ultimate gesture of asshole-ness, grabbing her ass.

No one saw the ass-grabbing but they definitely saw Scully’s wrist grab, arm twist, drop that fucker to the ground before she broke his shoulder move a moment later. Leaving him in a whimpering pile of crumple suit and tears, she calmly returned to her drink, fourth now by Mulder’s count, third by hers but who cared given he had never been so proud, feeling the need to cheer, to clap, then kick Benson neatly into next week.

Once Benson had been removed and things had returned to stifling party norm, Mulder came back in close as he had earlier, whispering in the general direction of her ear, “I know just what you need.”

Still feeling phantom hand on real ass, she didn’t care what the hell he might have been implying with that loaded statement, she just knew she was going to follow him and she might as well not beat around the bush, so, with a nod, pointing towards the sea of empty glasses in front of her, “I’ll be needing one of those to go.”

“I don’t think they have lids and straws.”

Already moving from the table, “well, we’ll figure something out.” The moment she moved, she winced, “but regardless, I need out of these damn shoes.”

Not giving a rip about the rest of the ballroom, he took her hand, “I will get you out of those damn shoes as soon as I can.”

&&&&&&&&&

He definitely got her out of the damn shoes but not her clothes, as had crossed his mind at some point after the third Rum and Coke. Instead, she was standing, barefoot, in a calf-length, deep-blue dress, hair falling from that girly twist she’d done, debating the best aim for her last throw.

“Hey, Scully?”

“Yeah?”

“If you hit the 100, I’ll buy you a piece of pizza.”

“Get out your wallet.”

And buy he did, a whole pie actually, half for her, half for him and she treated to the pitchers of beer, “I love that this place has Skee-bal and $2 pitchers after 11.”

“Told you I knew just what you needed.”

Eyes twinkling at him over the edge of her glass, she took a long drink before, “it’ll do in a pinch.”

Well, geez.

He really didn’t need to hear that while she wore that dress with those painted toes exposed and up beside him on the booth, bottoms of her feet dirty, smooth legs …

“Ready for another game?”

Tapping his thigh with those same painted toes, “games are good but my feet are getting cold and I’ve been up since 5 this morning. I’d also really like to get out of this dress and into something in a nice purple plaid flannel.”

“Wool socks perhaps?”

Scrunching toes, she nodded, “yes, please.”

Soon in his car, he debated taking her back to the museum to get hers but seeing her falling asleep in the seat beside him, he nudged her arm, leaning in closer, not wanting to startle too much, “hey, why don’t I take you home and we’ll get your car in the morning?”

Barely registering words, English, surroundings, she burrowed into her coat, mumbling something he needed her to repeat, her lips practically touching his ear, “your place.”

“Scully?”

Suddenly awake, understanding her words and his, she sat up, shook her head, “um, sorry. Actually, if you just want to take me to my car, I’ll be fine to drive home.”

Not really sure what had twisted the gravity between them in the last four seconds, “I … I don’t … are you sure? A minute ago you were practically asleep.”

Embarrassment flooding over the last six hours of back and forth between them, she gave him a passing glance and refocused out the window again, “I’ll be fine.”

Slippery slope, uneven ground, unexplored territory, he put the car in drive, worried and just the slightest bit completely pissed off, “okay.”

&&&&&&&&&&

Dropping her off at her car, she called good-night over her shoulder, then, shutting the door, left him even more irritated and before he could decide to be a complete ass, she drove off without so much as a wave out the window.

He chewed on this for a few minutes, then, given time and talent for going off the deep end, he aimed the car in her direction, driving to her apartment automatically, pulling up and noticing, to his surprise, her sitting on the stoop in front of the main door. Not the warmest of nights, his irritation with her cooled with the temperature as he approached her, settled beside her, put his arm around her shoulder, pulling her against him, “what’s wrong with us?”

“Nothing … everything …” leaning in closer, “it’s too early for this conversation and I’m too tired to curb any revelatory confessions.” Moving to stand, “go home, Mulder. Thank you for shoeless Skee-bal and cheap beer but I need to go inside and get some sleep.”

“Why didn’t you go inside when you got home?”

“Because I knew you’d be coming and I didn’t want to have to deal with you at my own door.”

Irritation was beginning to simmer yet again, “deal with me? What about my having to deal with you? I ask you if you want me to bring you home and you freak out, jump out of the car, pretend you’re awake enough to drive? I just wanted to bring you home so you didn’t fall asleep and die trying to be all independent!”

“Both I and the neighbors would appreciate you not yelling anymore, thank you very much.”

Still looking up at her, he boiled over, “I am not yelling! Fuck,” realizing he might not have been yelling but he was indeed louder than a midnight dark street warranted, “I just wanted to make sure you got home all right.”

Giving him a long look from above, contemplating his tired countenance, she shut her eyes, debating the universe as a whole as it applied to her relationship with Mulder, “I got home fine but I’m not sure you will so come inside. I’ve got semi-warm socks and old sweatpants that have seen better decades and I stole from you three years ago anyway and you can have back in you really want.”

“I’m fine.”

Collaring him, she tugged back slightly, “don’t try to ‘I’m fine’ the queen of ‘I’m fining’ … would you just come inside?”

She could see the wheels churning then slowly grinding to a halt before, “why do we make things so hard?”

Now she ruffled through his hair before giving his skull a good squeeze, “easy is not in our nature.”

As he stood, “you’re telling me.”

&&&&&&&&&

Inside the door, closed and locked, bolted and braced against the outside world, she discarded her shoes, dropping her several inches lower, further from him, but unmoving otherwise, head tilted up to see him, “sleep or drink?”

“Liquor or water?”

“Water, Mulder, definitely water. The last thing we need to pour on the nightmare of us is alcohol.”

“We are not a nightmare, Scully. We are just an exhausted mess. There’s a difference.”

Half wishing water wasn’t the correct choice, “it’s a blurry difference at best.”

Pulling her towards him, he kissed her forehead, “if it were an hour earlier, I’d have demanded the liquor but now, I’d just like the socks and sweatpants, please.”

Scully took his hand, pulling him towards the bedroom, “this way.” Inner sanctum bedroom swathed in shadow, she dug up aforementioned clothing by feel alone, handing him pants, t-shirt and socks, “I threw in your Barney Rubble shirt for good measure.”

And they stood, statued, in the dark, handful of clothes between them until, in a hushed voice, edge of sleep sharp, “do you sleep in my clothes?”

Silent but steady, she walked backwards, dug under her pillow and without pretense, pulled a shirt over her head, groped herself for a moment, undid a zipper and a clasp, dress dropping to her feet. Stepping out of it, she returned in front of him, “yes.”

He studied his beloved rag of washed out cotton Big Bird shirt as it sloped over breast and hung to mid- thigh, “do you think about me when you’re falling asleep?”

She nodded.

“Do you dream about me after you have?”

Another nod.

She would hear him thinking fractured, speed of light thoughts but she waited, wondering which direction things would go, until, “I would like to say something but I’m not going to get it right but I’ll try so just … wait until I’m done, okay?”

Third nod made his heart pound.

But he managed words, “I have never seen you more beautiful than right now, wearing my shirt, naked underneath.” He bit his lip, stumbling over the word naked, “and I’d like to, in the future, come to the conclusion that this isn’t as hard as we make it out to be and the only thing wrong with us is the logic of two illogical idiots.”

Scully invaded his space enough to tug at the bottom of his dress shirt, unbuttoning quickly from waist to neck, “help me get your pajamas on and we can crawl into that bed behind me and sleep until we wake up. After that, we can talk but right now, Mulder, sleep.”

He let her drop his shirt to the floor and pull Barney Rubble over his head, smooth material over chest while Mulder undid buckle and belt, pants exchanged swiftly for sweat, dark socks for gray, “left side or right?”

“Left for now but I can’t guarantee I won’t end up in the middle.”

“Fair enough.” Once hunkered down, buried and burrowed, “Scully?”

“Yeah.”

Through layers of comforter and sheet, he found her face, eyes closing fast, finally moving to shift that section of hair from her eyelashes so he could see her clearly, “in the car, why did you say you wanted to go to my place?”

Before she could shut herself up, “because you have that nice, warm water bed and I was cold.” When he just lay there staring at her, she whispered another ‘g’night’ and drifted off, leaving him to wonder just where she would have made him sleep.