TITLE: For The Trees AUTHOR: Brynna EMAIL: ingos_grrl@hotmail.com DISTRIBUTION STATEMENT: Anywhere. Just leave my info on it. I wouldn’t mind a note, so I can visit . . . FEEDBACK: *nodding enthusiastically* SPOILERS: nothing intentional RATING: NC-17 (really mild tho) CLASSIFICATION: V/MSR SUMMARY: A nice trip to the forest. Really, I mean that. Disclaimer: Mother Nature owns us, not the other way around. Creativity owns the creator. I’m just doing as my masters & mistresses command. Thanks: to Brandon, Louise, Paulette & Robbie for beta-duties. Authors Notes: Author + Camping + weeks of writers block = this. I have to admit; my time with Mulder has made me . . . averse to camping. And his dragging me to see The Blair Witch Project last week hasn’t helped matters. Let’s face it - forests don’t like us. So what on earth persuaded me to agree to come along on an actual camping trip with my partner, I just don’t know. We’ve never really spent out-of-office, off-work time together until recently, because, well . . . we spend so much time side by side during business hours, I think neither of us has ever wanted to push it. But when Mulder gets an idea in his head, and gets that little boy look in his eyes, I have a very hard time saying no. So when he sat himself down next to me and asked me to join him on an ‘adventure’ I hadn’t even processed the request before the ‘yes Mulder’ was out of my mouth. Damn those puppy dog eyes of his. Those eyes, soulful, haunted, pained and passionate, have talked me, against my better judgment, into many things. And currently, they have convinced me to follow my partner to locations unknown, away from our nice little campsite complete with two-room tent, firepit and picnic table; and deeper into the lush, green forest that surrounds and dwarfs us. The almost deafening sound of rushing water greets my ears, and I stop short at the crest of a hill along the small trail we’ve been following. Below us, in the bottom of a steep gully, lies a fast-running river. The water is crystal clear near the edges, allowing a view of the rocks under the surface. Toward the middle, it turns white as it pounds over the boulders, some of which no doubt have been sitting in place for as long as time can remember. Under the swirls of white, the water turns a beautiful shade of ice blue. Mineral deposits. The river is glacier-fed. My breath catches, and I stay in one place, taking in my surroundings. Finally, I feel a hand on my arm, and I turn to follow Mulder down the steep trail to the water’s edge. I no longer care about the stinging nettle and poison ivy growing around us, or the mosquitoes biting at my arms below the sleeves of my t-shirt. As we make our way through downed trees and over moss-covered rocks, a gentle breeze stirs, dusting the area around us with a light covering of needles from a pine tree, dead, but beautiful in its own way. The air swirls again, and in the sun, the needles look like snow. Mulder smiles at me, and I don’t hesitate to return it with one of my own. Sitting on a log, my back resting against a rock, the rush of water obliterating any other noise, I suddenly feel at peace. The cool breeze turns warm for just a moment, and I wonder if this is what it feels like to be truly wrapped up inside of life itself. Mulder is investigating some of the shallow pools created by the river. The sun shines down, glinting through the moss-covered tree branches, and bounces off his hair, creating a halo above him. For just a moment, I see the child he was, and find myself blinking back sudden stinging tears. I still don’t quite know the purpose of this trip, but I no longer care if I ever find out. This one brief glimpse of a carefree Mulder has made it all worthwhile -- and I suddenly know how a birdwatcher must feel when given the rare privilege of seeing a whooping crane in the wild Mulder looks up at me again, and for a moment I’m staggered by the sheer happiness in his eyes. If I wanted to, I could pretend that all the pain he’s endured in his life was gone. Or even simply forgotten. But I know better - he’s just pushed it back enough to hide it under other things, for now. The sun is going down, and I know we’ll have to head back soon. Glancing from my partner’s face up towards the sky, I raise an eyebrow slightly. His head shakes, and he begins to slowly, carefully make his way toward me. As he sits next to me, he casts his gaze out onto the water, watching its hypnotic dance over submerged boulders. I find myself transfixed, staring at the changing patterns of the leaves in the setting sun, and I can’t help but jump slightly as he draws me back to him, tucking a wildflower behind my ear. Giving him a sheepish smile, I start to turn away again. He stills my entire being, however, by reaching down, taking my left hand in his right, and lifting it to place a kiss to my ring finger. Twining our fingers together, he gives me a soft, almost shy smile, and looks back to the water. I watch him for a moment longer, before following his gaze, watching the same spot in the rapidly flowing river at our feet. The forest around us is still, yet alive. My eyes slowly close, allowing the feeling of Mulder’s hand on mine and the sounds of the water to invade my senses, letting the belief that we are the only two people in the world take up residence. At this moment, we are. Mulder tugs softly on my hand, drawing me back to him once again. We don’t speak. Not that we could hear each other if we did. I start to wonder when exactly we both reached this comfort level. The thought doesn’t actually have time to fully process, before I’m pulled from all thinking entirely by Mulder’s lips, gently sweeping over mine in a touch as light as the breeze that continues to play around us. He pulls back from me quickly, and eyes my face with a scrutiny that almost makes me squirm. I meet his eyes with a strong, steady look, and nod once. He grins, and nods back as we lean toward each other, our mouths meeting. I can’t tell if what I’m hearing is the water rushing by, or the blood coursing through my veins. My free hand moves, clutching at his waist. Not letting my hand go he tangles his other in my hair at the base of my skull. I didn’t know it was possible for a single touch to say so much, but his mouth moving, over and with mine, his fingers caressing my scalp, my hair, tell me things he’s never really said, never had to say. Because I know, now. This touch tells me, without a doubt, that he loves me. My body responds to this information, my mouth opening under his, allowing his tongue to go from tracking my lower lip to slipping inside, meeting mine. It’s dark now, and getting chilly, but I honestly don’t feel it. I can’t quite hear them, but I know the night creatures are beginning to stir around us. The moss-covered log vibrates slightly against the rush of water. The entire forest seems to be swelling, merging and energizing around our kiss. And our bodies are following suit. Mine is melting, liquefying, seeming to rush like the river below us. His, strong and firm, is as grounding as the trees that loom protectively above us. Pulling away from me for a moment, he removes both jacket and shirt, spreading them on the wood behind me. The glow of the moon, rising through the branches, lights his form as he almost delicately lays me back on the makeshift bed he created with a little help from Mother Nature. His eyes ask a single, silent question, and at my nod, he stops asking. We’ve always had incredible non-verbal communication, we’re just putting it to a whole new use. Slowly, he inches the thin material of my shirt up, contrasting the cooling air with the heat of his touch. There is no further hesitation on his part, or on mine, as he moves to bare my breasts to his hungry touch. My shirt is removed entirely and laid under my head. Mulder is taking more care with me than anyone has ever taken before. I knew this moment was inevitable, but I never expected it to be so tender. It’s been building so long, I thought for sure we’d just . . . explode one day. Perhaps it’s our location. The forest seems to be driving us forward, yet creating an almost languid environment for this to happen in. Somewhere in the course of my processing this thought, Mulder removes the rest of our clothing. Looking up at him, taking in his heated gaze, I suddenly am seeing myself though his eyes. I am laid out, passive, as if on a sacrificial altar, my body throbbing in time with the deep-resonating hum of the earth. He devours me with his eyes, taking me before he touches me. His hands finally float toward my body, the pale moonlight casting eerie shadows over us both, guiding him. When he finally touches me again, my mouth opens in a silent cry. The pulsing of natural energies around me, added to the force of his emotions flowing thought his fingertips straight into my soul via my flesh, almost causes me to climax right there. Lifting my head with a small amount of energy I don’t really have, I caress his body with my eyes. He’s ready. I’m ready. And I can’t take the simple torment of his touch without feeling him inside me any longer. I place my hands against his, stilling his touch to my breasts. I don’t speak, don’t even move, simply glance down to his hardness, and back to his eyes. He understands. Moving, he centers over me. Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howls, the sound traveling down the gully just over the water. Clouds cross the full moon, casting us into complete darkness. And he thrusts, entering me, filling me, then stopping. This leaves me momentarily breathless. This feeling . . . I’ve wanted it; waited for it, and now that it’s finally here - this is heaven, right here. I release his hands, allowing him free access to my body once again, and draw his head down, releasing the passions I’ve locked away for so many years. He meets me, kiss for kiss, touch for touch, thrust for thrust. We continue this primal, ancient ritual, once again bathed in moonlight, the world of the forest around us moving in unison to our moans and motions. His hand lowers between us, to touch my clit. I know he wants me to finish first, ever the gentleman. I don’t want that, however. I need us to come together. Knowing it will send him over, I stop his hand, and replace his fingers with my own, touching myself in time with his movements inside me. I can’t keep my eyes open as sensations wash over me, his hips moving against mine, driving my fingers harder against myself with each thrust. The water and the full moon ignite something inside me, and throwing my head back, I let out a deep, primal scream that is instantly swallowed up by the river, an orgasm that seems to send everything around me crashing together into the wave of pleasure sweeping over me. Mulder’s head falls to my shoulder, and he bites down, thrusting gracelessly. His teeth draw blood, which he licks at as he tenses and thrashes inside and on top of me. My slowly receding orgasm is inflamed once more at the thought of his life force entering me, as mine enters him. We are truly, irrevocably connected now. His movements slow, and his head turns slightly. He kisses my ear softly, and rests his head against my chest for a few moments. Taking advantage of the fact that I can reach the top of his head, I kiss his hair, and nuzzle my nose against him. Another breeze moves over us, this time it’s cold. Mulder’s head lifts and we both nod, slowly untangling from each other. He picks up our clothes, and reaches for me, tucking my body against his. His head lowers, to kiss me once more, before we head back to camp. Neither of us voice the words that I know are waiting to be said. It doesn’t need to be right now. We have all the time in the world for that. Starting now.