Disclaimer:  Mulder and Scully aren't mine.  But, they occasionally 
inhabit this little romantic universe of mine.

Category: SRA, MSR
Rating: *NC-17* (everyone knows that means our heroes get 
horizontal; sexual situations between consenting adults) 
Spoilers: Momento Mori and after 
Archive: Gossamer, ATXC, X-Files Fan Fic List. Others ask me. 
Feedback: Hell yeah!
 
Author's Note:  This situation is rated a 9.7 on a scale of 1 - 10,
with 10 equaling a yeah, right like this would happen.  See, I leave 
a little leeway there. ;-) 

"Subconscious Bond"
By Lisa 
(haven599@msn.com)

"I see the light and the heat
in your eyes
oh, I want to be that complete
I want to touch the light,
the heat I see in your eyes
in your eyes       in your eyes"
                                            ---Peter Gabriel

   I was getting worried now.  The dreams . . . no, nightmares had
been going on for weeks now.  I didn't understand them. But, I 
needed to make sense of them.  I wanted to.  I was afraid for us.  
Why?  Recurring dreams should mean something - an unresolved issue,
an answer to a question that is unavailable in the conscious mind.  If 
that's correct, then I must be suffering from pain because I'm crying
in this dream.  So is Mulder. 

   I looked through one of Mulder's books about dreams.  It didn't tell
me much except the history of them and various examples of their 
significance.  The book went on to describe paranormal, prophetic, 
and shared dreams.  I glanced over those sections, but what really
caught my attention was the information about dreams predicting
health, in particular an omen of evil that would befall the dreamer.
Was my health threatened again?  Mulder's?  Wait.  I can't believe
I'm thinking all of these things.  It could sound like a one of our 
cases and  I'm *not* going to look in the X-Files for my answer.  

   I can't tell Mulder, either.  What could I say to him?  I'm having 
recurring dreams about you, Mulder.  What do you think that means?
He'd probably give me some theory on why I was dreaming about him.
It would lead to a discussion of  recurring dreams and how they are more
common than I think in the general population.  Hell, he'd have charts, 
tables, and graphs to further prove his point.  The damn projector might
make an appearance in his little diatribe.  Ok, maybe I'm being a 
little too hard on him, but I can't tell my partner about these 
dreams.  It would be too embarrassing, besides they don't happen every
night.  But, when they do, it scares me out of a sound sleep. 

   I am on a bed with Mulder, holding him tightly to my chest.  
He is crying.  The more I hold him, the more upset he becomes.  I am 
unable to console him and tears begin to run down my face into his 
hair.  I can't stop them, somehow this is cathartic for me as well. 
I need it.  I want it. I fear it.  I'll just have to deal with this 
until the nightmares stop.

********

   One night in a motel room I awaken to the faint sound of crying.  
I instantly realize it's Mulder and walk over to the connecting door 
to our rooms.  It's unlocked, as always.  I go right over to his bed
and sit down on the edge.  I can barely see him curled up in the 
middle of the king size bed.  I reach for him, cradling him against
my chest.  He doesn't seem to resist and moves into my arms.  I then
start to wonder if this is my dream.  Maybe I'm still asleep in the 
next room and this is just a more vivid encounter that my mind 
decided to conjure up tonight.  I only have a moment to ponder that
thought before I hear Mulder's sobbing become more desperate and 
needy.  My name comes out on a choked sob and I tighten my grip on
his body.  My tears start to come.  It's like I'm acting out the 
script that has been playing in my mind.  Perpetual encores.  I hold 
him for a long time; I'm not sure because I must have fallen asleep 
since I'm lying down on the pillow and Mulder's arms are around my
waist; his head beneath my breasts. It's not that uncomfortable and 
I close my eyes again, only to feel Mulder's lips on mine a few 
moments later.
   
   "Mulder, it's me."  I can't believe I just said that right now. Here.
   "I know, Scully.  I usually know the women I'm kissing, especially 
in bed." 
   Oh God. I feel him breathe that sentence into my ear. His voice 
sounds serious, yet somewhat teasing, too. 
   I return the kiss if only to know how he tastes.  It's good. He's 
good.  The kiss changes now and becomes more needy.  I try and find
my breath as his mouth makes love to mine. He releases me and his
mouth moves lower.  The roughness of his beard scrapes against my
cheek, my neck.  I get lost in the wonderful sensation of it, if 
only for a moment.  
   "Mulder . . . wait." I say, scooting up on the bed. 
   "What Scully?"
   "What are we doing?"  I ask. I can't believe we're having this
conversation, let alone in the dark.
   "I can tell you what I was doing."
   "Mulder, I know what we . . . I can't . . ." I was at a loss of 
what to say to him.
   "I'm sorry.  I'll stop.  I don't want to do something to make you
 uncomfortable or regret." he explained.
   I couldn't believe he said that.  All this time - he should know
 me better than that.  I wasn't uncomfortable.  It was nice. Very nice.  
"I wouldn't regret anything we do, Mulder.  It was just unexpected.
I don't know about you, but I was enjoying myself.  Now, where
did we leave off . . ."
   There was a long pause before I heard him speak.  "Right about 
here."  His lips came back to my neck.
     Mulder began unbuttoning the buttons on my nightgown and his 
lips worked their way down to the tops of my breasts.  This action
really connected in my brain.  We were really doing this.  It was 
going to happen.  I clutched at his hair and arched my body up to 
his mouth.
   His hand moves down my body groping for the edge of my nightgown,
finding it and pulling it up around the tops of my thighs.
   It wouldn't take him long to discover that I wasn't wearing any 
panties.  His hand worked its way to my inner thighs, caressing the 
sensitive skin.  Mulder's fingertips danced closer and closer to me. 
I responded by spreading my legs father apart.
   I could only gasp and moan at what his fingers were doing to me.  
He used the sounds that I made to guide him on what was the 
right spot, the perfect pressure for me. Where I was most sensitive.
   My nightgown was bunched up around my waist now. I can't think;
I can only feel.  I wanted to take this nightgown off and press my 
body into his.  Feel nothing but his skin on mine.  Mulder rubbed a 
very sensitive spot and I cried out, my moans the only sound in the 
darkened room.   

   "Scully . . ." he whispered into my hair a few minutes later.  "I 
need to ask you something."  
   Right, like I could answer him right now.  Not a coherent one,
anyway.  He placed a kiss just above my eyebrow before continuing.
"I want to turn on the light.  I need to see you when we make love."
   I wanted that, too.  "Yes."  I breathed.
   I heard him reach over me and switch on the bedside lamp.  I 
blinked a couple of times before my eyes adjusted.  As I sat up on
the bed, Mulder was looking right into my eyes.  I had a pretty 
good idea of what he saw.  My nightgown was unbuttoned, exposing
a generous amount of cleavage, a lock on hair had fallen over my 
right eye.  I felt flushed and probably was from the orgasm Mulder 
had just given me.  
   His eyes were darkened with desire.  Desire for me.  Finally, he
lifted the nightgown up and off of me.  I reached for his t-shirt and
helped pull it over his head, skimming my nails down his chest and 
over his nipples.  Seeing a look of pleasure in his eyes.  I placed 
kisses on his chest before he pulled me underneath his body.  
   Mulder's arms wrapped around me anchoring my body to his. The 
other hand was stroking my cheek softly.  My heart was beating so 
fast.  I didn't know if it was the anticipation of him making love to 
me or the look in his eyes.  He brushed some hair away from my face
as he gazed intently into my eyes.
   "Mulder . . ."
   His mouth came down on mine hungrily.  I didn't expect it to be 
so roughly, but returned this kiss just the same and laced my fingers
into his hair.  No time was wasted as he took my nipple into his mouth
swirling his tongue around one and then the other.  The feeling was 
incredible and I greedily pressed myself closer to his mouth wanting 
more.  His name was like a chant that I repeated over and over again. 
Reaching down for the waistband of his boxers, I anxiously tried to
get them out of our way.  It wasn't working that well.
   "Mulder, you're still wearing . . ."
   "Just a second." He left me briefly and I already missed the warmth
of his body on top of mine.  I was so aroused and ready for him to be
inside me. 
   Mulder pushed his finger gently inside me again before guiding 
himself into me.  One last push and we were finally together.  I saw 
trust, acceptance and passion reflected in his eyes.  I knew he would
see the same in mine.  Looking for final acceptance that this was what
I wanted.  He slowly began to move inside me.  But, it was too slow.  
   "More,"  I begged.
   My request was answered as his body moved at a faster speed. I met
him every step of the way before it became too much for me and I felt 
my body tightening around him as I came, his name a whispered prayer
formed on my lips.  I closed my eyes as the aftershocks washed over me.
   Mulder collapsed on top of me. I held him until our bodies began to 
return back to normal, placing kisses wherever I could reach. He 
rolled off of me and I nestled in the curve of his body.  After a 
while, I remembered what drew me into his room in the first place.

   "Mulder, why were you so upset earlier?  What's wrong?" 
   He didn't respond immediately and I looked up at him.  "Tell me."
I urged, lacing my fingers through his.  
   He looked into my eyes before beginning.  "I had a dream . . .kept
having the same dream that you told me your . . . cancer came back 
and said the doctors couldn't do anything for you.  It was inevitable
you were going to . . . to die in a few months. I . . . I couldn't 
. . ."  he stopped, his voice was filled with tears as if it was 
really going to happen.
   I squeezed his hand tighter.  "It was a nightmare.  I'm right 
here."  Oh my God.  It was like mine.  The same thing.
   "Scully?  What?"  Mulder asked desperately, seeing a look of 
surprise on my face.
   "I had a similar recurring dream, Mulder.  I was comforting you.
it was just like what I did when I first came in.  I . . . We both . . ."
   "It was a shared dream, Scully."  he stated.
   I smiled at him.  "Do you think it's an X-File, Agent Mulder?"
I teased.  
   "No."  his tone became serious. "An X-File is unexplained. This 
just shows how much we're connected to each other, Scully. We
even comfort and protect each other in our nightmares.  Two people
can't be much closer than that."    
   The tears were pooling in my eyes now.  I shifted my body on
top of his.  A tear ran down my cheek and fell on his chest.  I 
kissed it off before laying my head down on his body.  Silence 
passed for a few minutes as each of us were absorbing the effect
of his words.  I felt him stroking my hair as I listened to his heart
beating.
   "Scully . . . are you asleep?" 
   "Hmm. . .no.  Are you tired?"  I ask.
   "A little.  We could get some sleep if you want or . . ." Mulder 
half smiled instead of finishing that sentence.
   I returned the smile.  "Or . . . sounds good to me."

END

End Note:  The excerpt at the beginning is from Peter Gabriel's
"In Your Eyes."  I thought it fit nicely into this little piece and 
could also exemplify their overall relationship.  I encourage you 
to read the complete lyrics to decide for yourself. - L.