Disclaimer: Nope, these characters aren't mine.

Category: SRA
Classification: MSR
Rating: R
Spoilers: Don't think so.
Archive: Gossamer. Spookys. Others ask me.
Feedback: Knock yourself out.
Summary: Communication is the best gift.
Thanks to: Shannon and Sara Lynn for the clarification.

"Comfort Zone" (1/1)
by Lisa
(haven599@msn.com)


Mulder's apartment
9:07 p.m.


 I slide my key into the lock and it turns easily.  It's been over
a week since I've seen him, the longest time we've been apart since
becoming lovers about two months ago.

 I didn't realize it would be this hard to be separated.

 I shut the door quietly behind me and creep inside. It's dark. He
must be asleep.  I came straight from the airport, so I set my suitcase
down in the foyer.

 "Scully?"  His gravelly voice comes from the couch a second
after my bag hits the floor. Why am I not surprised? "Is that you?"

 "How many other people have a key to your apartment?" I ask, a
smile spreading slowly across my face. I can barely make out his
shape sitting in the middle of the couch. Perhaps my eyes have not
yet adjusted to the dimmer surroundings.

 "Come here," he asks.

 I walk over and start to sit on the cushion next to him, but he
grabs my waist and pulls me onto his lap.  "Mulder!"

 "How many days has it been, Scully?" he whispers.

 His voice sounds just like that when we make love and my body
reacts immediately.  "I . . . I think seven or eight." I answer.

 "No. Eight days." His arms come around my waist, holding me
in place. "Eight days too long, Scully."

 I nod.  "Yes, it was," I say softly.

 He brushes some hair behind my ear. "We talked on the phone
every night," I remind him.

 "It wasn't enough," he tells me.

      I know it wasn't.  We were split up.  I was sent to the
Chicago field office to help with a murder investigation. Mulder
was assisting a team that had identified a possible terrorist
threatening to blow up several courthouses in the D.C. area.

 "I had to imagine what you were wearing," Mulder says. "Except
for that one time when I asked."

 "And I told you," I remind him.

 "But it didn't go any further.  You didn't volunteer any other
information that was useful."  He unbuttons my blazer and slides it
off my shoulders.

 "I couldn't do that," I tell him, enjoying the feeling of his hands
rubbing my shoulders and up and down my arms.

 "Do what, Scully?"

 "Phone sex," I reply.  I'm glad he can't see me blushing. "It's
just that I've never done anything like that before and I don't
know if I could."

 "Scully, it doesn't matter.  Forget I even mentioned it."

 "Mulder, wait . . ."

 I'm unable to finish my sentence before he begins to unbutton
my blouse and takes it off, tossing it over the side of the couch.

 The cold air hits my naked skin and I shiver involuntarily.

 "Cold?" he asks.

 "No, I'm fine."

 "You don't look fine," he says.  "You look a bit uncomfortable."

 "Why would I be uncomfortable?" I squirm a little against his
body, trying to feel more in control, but his arms hold me steady.

 "Is it the darkness or the position?" Mulder asks.

 "Excuse me?" The question catches me off guard.  "I'm not afraid
of the dark.  We've been working in the dark for a better part of
our time together."

 "We do our best work in the dark, don't we?"

 I know there's a slight smile on his face as he says that, even
though I can't see it. "Literally or figuratively?"

 "Wait, get up for a second," he asks.

 "What?" I reply.  "Mulder, what are you doing?" I get off of his
lap and he slides the zipper down of my skirt and struggles
to get it off my body. I help him slide it down to the floor. Mulder
pulls me back onto his lap. Now I'm almost undressed.

 "Mulder, why are you asking me to do this?" I don't understand
what's gotten in to him tonight.  This is probably something he
saw on one of his videotapes and now he wants me to act it out for
him. My knees are pressed down into the couch and I can feel his
erection pressed against my body.

 "Mulder, let go of me," I tell him. "*Now.*"

 He lets go of me quickly.  "Scully, what's wrong?"

 I stand beside the couch, bracing my hand on its arm, thinking
how I'm going to tell Mulder this.

    Mulder says my name again quietly and reaches for my hand. I
pull it away, saying: "I don't want to make love with you on the
couch." I state firmly.  "I had a boyfriend in college and he had
a couch similar to the one you have.  He didn't have a bedroom and
we'd always have sex on that couch. I grew to hate it, among other
things about him and his life.  I feel more comfortable in the
bedroom."  I try not to let the tears fall, but it's too late.
"Perhaps one day I could be more adventurous."

 Mulder stands up and takes me in his arms.  I feel embarrassed
that I told him all that.  He doesn't want to know about my
ex-lovers. "I'm not mad at you, Mulder." I say softly, wiping
the tears away.

  He lets me go, but takes my hand in his. "Scully, we weren't
going to make love on the couch." he tells me. "I'd never ask you to
do something you were uncomfortable with.  I'm glad you told me."

 "But I should be stronger now.  That was a long time ago. All
I was doing was sitting on your lap," I say weakly.

 "Do you want to try it again?" Mulder asks me.

 "I don't know," I reply.

 Mulder sits back down on the couch and holds his arms out to me.
I slowly ease down onto his lap. I feel a lot better knowing
nothing has to happen unless I want it to.

 "Are you okay?" he asks.

 I nod. "This relationship is new to us, Mulder."

 "I know," he agrees. "If you don't like anything I'm doing, just
tell me, okay.  I'll change it, but don't be afraid to tell me."
He caress my back softly with his hands.

 "I wish I was a bit more open to try new things.  The phone sex.
Other places besides the bedroom." I admit to him.

 "I'll do anything I can to help," he says.

 "I bet you will." A slight smile spreads over my face.

 "Scully, I think you're out of your comfort zone," he tells me.

 "Mulder, I'm not in the mood for a psychoanalysis tonight, okay,"
I sigh against his body.

 "Your comfort zone," he reiterates. "It's a change in a person's
life, usually something big and initially hard to deal with, but
will make the person stronger. You know, people are resistant to
change."

 "Umm-hmm, they are."

  Mulder pushes the strap of my bra off my shoulder and places a
gentle kiss there.  His other hand travels up my leg to the inside of
my thigh.

 "Mulder . . ."

 "What?" He lowers the other strap of my bra and presses his lips
against the swell of my breast coming out of the satiny cup.

 I lace my fingers through the hair at the back of his head and
somehow manage to say: "Then I've been out of my comfort zone for
the past seven years."

 He kisses me passionately and we both have to catch our breath
for a moment.  "Do you want to move this into the bedroom?"

 "Yes," I reply breathlessly.

 "Hold on," he tells me, wrapping his arms around me as he stands
up in one fluid motion from the couch.

 "I have been, Mulder. For the past few years now."  I hope he
sees the smile on my face and the love reflected in my eyes for only
him.

 My comfort zone is Mulder.

****
END (1/1)

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