Disclaimer: Nope, these characters aren't mine. Category: VA Classification: Mulder/other, Mulder/Scully UST Rating: NC-17 Spoilers: Timeline for this piece is late fifth to early sixth season Archive: Gossamer. Spookys. Others ask me. Feedback: Knock yourself out. Summary: Mulder indulgences his fantasies in an unusual way. Thanks to: Louise, Sara Lynn, and Shannon for their help. Author's Note: This is a series of vignettes that should be read in a certain order. The stories in the Intimate Deception universe include, in order: Fantasy, Betrayal, Disclosure and Reality. "Intimate Deception: Fantasy" by Lisa (haven599@msn.com) It was her picture that started it. I sat there staring at the computer screen, fascinated, for a long time. Imagining. Wondering. I went back to that site many times. The image tormented me to the point of distraction. I guess I became addicted, because soon the picture wasn't enough. I tried to tell myself that the photo was manipulated or enhanced. And it probably was. That still didn't satisfy me. I remained curious. Especially since with one phone call I could be sure. It turned out to be true. She looked exactly like Scully. Well, a more made up version of Scully. One with darker, more severe eye make-up and hair that had been softly curled. A petite red-head. Except this one didn't second guess me. In fact, she did exactly what *I* wanted her to do. Of course, the money didn't hurt either. I expected her to say no. In fact, I prepared myself for that answer. See, I hired Kelly to become Scully. Or at least the version of Scully I didn't see and couldn't have - the sexy and desirable woman. I told her how I wanted her to dress. Business suits, no less. Well, that was the couple of times we went out to dinner. Most of the time was spent at my apartment where she was wearing considerably less clothing. I even gave her extra money to buy silk lingerie. Victoria's Secret. Expensive stuff, but classy. The kind of lingerie I thought Scully would wear. I'm not sleeping with her. Maybe I should be. It might be easier. But the guilt would consume me. She strips for me. I can imagine it's Scully and not Kelly. I can get into the fantasy so much that I see Scully and not Kelly in front of me. A couple drinks don't hurt, either. Kelly wants to dance for me, but I won't let her. I can't imagine Scully in any circumstance dancing. Perhaps I should humor her and let her do it once. She's trying hard to fit into my fucked up world, with what little information I'm telling her about Scully and myself. Money is a powerful motivator. So is sex. It would probably be much healthier for everyone if I just talked to a therapist about this. I can't. I know everything is supposed to be kept confidential, but I don't trust a complete stranger. At least not with my feelings for Scully. Those are too personal. I only trust one person. Ironically, that's the one person I can't talk to. But what would I say? In one breath, I'd be discussing a case with her and in the next telling her I want her so bad I can't stand it. I often wonder about the kind of men Scully has been with. I vaguely remember Jack Willis. She was young then, so that could have been the reason for the relationship. But Ed Jerse. She just met him and . . . well, that was because she was mad at me. It was out of desperation. Desperation. Jesus. I should be the one to talk. If Scully ever found out . . . Kelly should be here any time now. I haven't seen her in almost a week. Scully and I have been busy. I get up to refresh my drink and before I can sit down, there is a knock at the door. Specifically, three short knocks. That's how I know it's her. I hurry to open the door and she struts right inside my apartment, looking as beautiful as always. She is already starting to take her clothes off, anticipating what I want. I return to my seat, watching her performance with rapt attention. Wishing terribly it was Scully doing this for me, taking off her clothing piece by piece until I couldn't take it anymore. But it's not and she won't. Kelly finishes her performance and simply stands looking at me for a moment, wearing a emerald green silk bra and panties. Her mouth opens and closes as if she's trying to speak, and finally she blurts out, "Why don't you just tell her?" I stiffen and drop my gaze to the drink in my hand. "You don't understand," I replied. "It's complicated." Kelly comes over to me, sitting on the arm of the chair. "That's what you keep saying. Do I really look that much like her?" "You look more like her than her sister did." I take another swallow of the vodka-laced orange juice, feeling it burn all the way down. She takes the glass out of my hand and sets it on the table. "I know what you need." She knelt down in front of me, undoing my pants. "Kelly, you don't have to . . ." I begin, but she already has my cock in her mouth. And I already have the vision of Scully in her underwear in my mind. The combination is enough to make me come. By the time I recover, she's already getting dressed. At least this time she earned her money. Kelly leaves without saying anything else. I start to say something, but think better of it. I was about to tell her that I didn't want her to give me a blow job again. I felt too guilty thinking about Scully and how she would react to this woman -- her sexual substitute. Kelly's trying her best to satisfy me while playing by my rules. Besides, she's beginning to ask me more questions about the woman she's supposed to become when she steps over the threshold of my apartment. I have no answers for her. Hell, I have no answers for myself. I guess everything's going to stay the same. It's easier this way. *** END Like what you read? Come to Lisa's Haven: http://shannono.simplenet.com/haven/