#but Agent Beck is brighter than Seven

[amyreads]

BODY DOUBLE CRUMBS? If you have? no pressure or anything I'm just excited for it too!

"Ignore [them]. Agent Beck is still bitter that [they] got dumped."

"That's not the case at all."

"Really? So you're not mad Sawyer would rather be on the run, accused of murder, and now exist in a stranger's body than come to you for help?"

"...it has nothing to do with our relationship, though."

"Judging by the flushing of your cheeks and the dilation of your pupils, you are lying."

"CAI, lower your honesty parameters. Please."

Amy are you doing another exes route?? except that the ex isn't MC at all just the person in their head that dumped them?

Yes. Yes, I am.

[frangipanidownunder]

As you wish

A slightly not safe for work fic for @leiascully‘s XF writing challenge: 2017.

There were New Year’s resolutions and then there were ridiculous pronouncements that were so far from being deliverable that even Fox Mulder’s altruistic willingness to believe in the amazing, the extraterrestrial, the wondrous and the romantic, was sorely tested.

           “I swear to you, Mulder, that 2017 will be the year.”

           He stroked a lazy circle with his fingers on the small of her back, bare where her top had separated from her panties in the night. It was still his spot, he was drawn to it as surely as a bee to nectar. His fingers brushed the elastic and he let his thumb linger under the band. She turned towards him and her lips spread into a lazy Saturday morning smile.

           “Scully, we’ve been doing this for almost ten years and there is no way that you are ever going to be able to master the art.” His thumb dipped lower, hooking her underwear down as his hand caressed her ass, still perfect to him, despite her protestations that age and gravity were enemies too great to vanquish, despite her 10km jog each morning.

           “You dare doubt me?” She rolled over and trapped his hand. He squeezed her cheek, enjoying its fleshy give. She giggled and lifted her pelvis up, trying to extract his hand. “Mulder, don’t start something you’re not prepared to finish.”

           He nuzzled his mouth to her neck, nipping and kissing. “I’m always prepared to finish what I start, Scully. You should know that by now.”

           Her arm extended towards to her bedside cabinet and she picked up her watch. “Well, you’ve got exactly, seven minutes to show me just how tenacious you are, or we might just miss our flight.” She pulled him closer and slipped her hand inside his boxers, caressing him with her expert touch.

           “That’s probably five minutes longer than I need.”

 After the trial, the break-out, the desperation of life on the run and the FBI’s begrudging forgiveness, they started a new tradition – a Christmas/New Year break. Somewhere warm. The holiday was a concerted effort to escape from fear, of the past and the future, that festered in the darkest corners of their lives; from guilt, over the fates of William, Emily, Melissa, Samantha, that nested in their hearts and souls. It was a temporary solution to the darkness that continued to shadow their lives.

During Mulder’s illness, and despite their separation, they still took their trip. Mulder woke each day during those times, with a lighter heart and a brighter outlook. Medically, Scully knew the effects of fresh air, sunshine and a change of pace were proven restoratives. Emotionally, her own heart pieced itself back together, albeit only for a few weeks, as her Mulder, her old Mulder, shone through. And now, since their return to the FBI, and their re-commitment to each other, the tradition would continue.

Their cabin over the water was glorious. It had a sunken living area, an outdoor shower room that looked over their private pool and barbecue deck. The bed was four-poster. The local seafood was delicious. The sun was warm without being uncomfortable. Scully’s skin freckled and Mulder teased her. Mulder’s skin darkened, bringing out a devilish gleam in his eyes.

“This is how I like my Mulder,” she said, propped up on her elbows on a sun lounger as he fed her mango. The sticky juice dripped down her chest.

“And this is how I like my Scully,” he replied, licking the trail between her breasts, enclosed in a bikini, a delicate shade of green. “Sweet and salty. My favourite combination.”

She sighed and let his tongue work its magic.

“The pros of a private cabin can never be underestimated.” He pulled the strings of her bikini bottom apart.

“The pros of a detailed knowledge of female anatomy can never be underestimated.” She just about managed to get the words out.

 Mulder rolled his shoulders, raising his arms above his head, linking his hands and pushing them back. He lunged right then left, his tanned leg muscles flexing. His back was sheen with sweat. Scully admired him a moment longer before picking up her bucket and spade and joining him.

           “Mulder, warming up to build a sandcastle is a little excessive.”

           He turned and looked down at her, winking. “Have you ever thought that your lack of physical preparation is the very reason why you have never won this contest?”

           She snorted. “It didn’t occur to me for a number of years that this was even a contest, Mulder. Your competitive nature has given you the edge. You probably spend days planning your design.”

           “Try months, Scully.” His eyes flashed and he shot her a wicked grin, before picking up his bag of tools. “Are you ready?”

           Her bright orange plastic spade and bucket set looked feeble and she shook her head. “No. But let’s get it over with.”

 Mulder dug, shaped, surveyed, scratched his chin and hunkered down. Scully flipped buckets, placed shells, trod on her own turrets and giggled.

           “Why do I get the impression that you aren’t taking this seriously, Agent Scully?”

           “Why do I get the impression that you’re taking this too seriously, Agent Mulder?”

 They stood back from their efforts and swiped their brows. Mulder’s Transylvanian castle, complete with gothic moat and bridge and bats carved into the tallest tower took up a fair amount of space. It dwarfed Scully’s smaller, traditional Scottish castle with lake and folly.

           “Size isn’t everything,” she said, wiping beads of sweat from her upper lip and offering him a slow smile.

           “You just keep telling yourself that, Scully.”

           “Who’s the judge this year?”

           “The young man who cleans the pool is coming by any minute now. And please don’t cry when he makes his decision.”

           She poked out her tongue. “You’re such a pig.”

 The man wandered around both designs and laughed. Scully was sure he thought they were just another pair of privileged, crazy Americans.

           Mulder leant towards her ear. “I think he’s laughing at your tiny castle, Scully.”

           She jabbed him in the ribs. “I think he’s on to you and your giant ego. He probably thinks you’re overcompensating for something.”

           She giggled as Mulder frowned.

 The man walked back towards them. “They are very good. I like them both.”

           “You have to make a decision. There can only be one winner.” Mulder clasped his hands together and puffed out his chest.

Scully enjoyed the moment, but only for the aesthetics. “Are you getting worried, Agent Mulder?”

           “Only for your pride and integrity, Agent Scully.”

           The man went back for a final look and clapped his hands together. “I have chosen.”

           Mulder grinned. Scully sighed.

           “I like this one.” He pointed to Scully’s Scottish castle.

           Scully grinned. Mulder sighed.

 Scully turned on the shower and let the warm spray soak her. She smiled out at the deck where Mulder was prodding fish on the barbecue, his buttocks flexing with each movement.

           “Next year I vote for a non-private cabin, Mulder.”

           He turned to her revealing his full, naked glory. “You’re willing to share this view?”

           She grabbed a towel and moved towards him, hot and heady already. “Hmm, maybe not. Don’t stop, the salad hasn’t been dressed yet.”

           He frowned. “So bossy.”

           “You love it.”

           “I’ve always loved your assertive side. I can’t believe I didn’t think about this before.”

           “Think about what?”

           “Letting you win so that you could order me about. It’s a huge turn-on.”

           She let her eyes shift southwards. “I can see that. But you didn’t let me win.”

           He put down the tongs and gathered her up in an embrace, pushing her towel away. “I did too. I wanted to be at your beck and call for a change. Ten years of you serving me gets a little old.”

           “I won fair and square, Mulder. Don’t deny it.”

           He nuzzled her neck. “Tell me what you want me to do, Scully. I’m yours all night.”

           She shivered. “You’re always mine, all night, Mulder. How is this even a prize?”

           He suckled a nipple. “Are you complaining, Scully?”

           She was silent for a while. “Not yet.”

           “Shall we eat first?” His tongue laved her breast.

           “You can enjoy an appetizer, I’m not overly hungry yet.”

           He picked her up and carried her to the bed. “As you wish.”