TITLE: Adrenaline Brush AUTHOR: Ducky FEEDBACK: My name is Jodie, but you can call me Ducky. It lends but an ounce of intrigue to my otherwise inanimate identity. CLASSIFICATION: MSR RATING: NC-17 SPOILERS: None except a TINY reference to 'Deep Throat.
ARCHIVE: Do whatever you want. Just ask me first and make sure you include my name and all that crap.
DISCLAIMER: These characters are not mine, they belong to some kind of global conspiracy, you know that. AUTHOR'S NOTES: This story was originally about Scully moving to another apartment and Mulder helping her move. I changed my mind and decided to base the story on a particular scene from 'Shirley Valentine'. It was much more fun! If you've seen the film, you'll know which scene I'm on about! I'd like to say thanks to Carpet for the ideas and encouragement. I know you only do it because you want to read the smut!
SUMMARY: Mulder helps Scully to decorate her apartment, but they find something more interesting to do with the paint . . .

nocturnal emissions:
http/ Brush" By Ducky.

Scully grunted as she dragged the television set across her living room floor. She was decorating, and right now she was in the process of moving some pieces of furniture into her bedroom so that they were out of the way. She had decided to leave the sofa where it was and just cover it with a sheet.

Though she was pretty strong for a woman, she couldn't lift the TV. Giving up, Scully rose from her squatting position on the floor. She circled it, eyeing it as if it were her prey. She didn't want to try pushing it in case it fell over.

She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and wiped her forehead with the sleeve of the old denim shirt she was wearing. Walking backwards, she nearly tripped over the three cans of paint that were on the floor behind her.

There was a knock at the door. Scully muttered, "It's about time," under her breath and made her way across the room and opened the front door.

Mulder was standing there wearing an old grey T-shirt and a pair of faded jeans. He also had on a worn out pair of sneakers. He stood with his arms folded across his broad chest and a paint roller in his right hand.

"Hey, Scully," Mulder smiled at her. "Ready to rock and roll?"

"Come on in, Mulder," she stepped to one side and he entered her apartment. "Uh, could you give me a hand moving the TV? It's kind of heavy."

"Yeah, sure. Where do you want it?"

"In the bedroom, please,"

Mulder raised an eyebrow at her, sarcastically. "Are we still talking about the TV?"

She grinned and shook her head. "Yes, Mulder," she said with mock intolerance. "We are still talking about the TV."

Scully's eyes followed him as he squatted down to pick up the television set. Mulder wrapped his arms around it and bent his fingers around the bottom. Scully watched the veins in his biceps throb as he lifted the heavy object off the floor. The sleeves of his T-shirt stretched to accommodate the flexing of his muscles. Unaware that her mouth was hanging open, Scully continued to observe Mulder's back and shoulder blades twist and adjust to the weight of her television. She was in awe.

"Uh, Scully?" Mulder groaned. "Little help?"

She snapped out of her trance. "Sorry Mulder, do you need a hand?"

"No, it's all right, but could you open the door for me?"

Scully practically ran over to her bedroom and opened the door as wide as it would go. She got out of his way and he staggered past her and into her room.

"Just put it on the bed, thanks, Mulder," Her eyes never left his tight ass while he bent over slightly and gently placed the TV on Scully's bed. She watched his muscles relax and he slowly rose to a standing position.

"Shall I help you bring the rest of the stuff in?" Mulder sounded slightly breathless.

"Mmm, yeah, thanks."

"Okay," he smiled and walked past her into the living room. Scully couldn't resist smelling him as his walked by. That little exercise had made him sweat a bit.

Scully tried to get a grip on herself. She had never intended for the day to end up as an ogle-fest. She just needed a bit of help painting her living room. That's all. And the only person she could think of just happened to be an incredibly sexy member of the male species, also of the heterosexual persuasion, with a fantastic body that she had absolutely no intention of sleeping with.

"Uh, Scully? Are you still with us?" Mulder poked his head around the door.

"Yeah, I'm coming, Mulder."

"Come on, Scully. Get that nice little ass of yours in here and help me lift this damn coffee table," Then he disappeared. Scully smiled to herself and rolled her eyes.

She walked into the living room where Mulder was already trying to work out how they were going to do this. Scully could almost see the cogs turning inside his cute little head. She tilted her head to the right and watched his forehead twitch. It always did that when he was really concentrating.

"Hey, Scully, this thing isn't gonna fit through that door,"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it's too wide. It won't fit. We're going to have to turn it on its side." He looked up at her and grinned. "Are you ready to get physical, Agent Scully?"

Scully returned the smile and raised her eyebrows once. "Always."

Together, they lifted the coffee table up onto its side and they carried it through the door to Scully's bedroom. After that, they began to move any other items of furniture that remained.

Scully couldn't help but watch the way Mulder's T-shirt clung to his chest and stomach as he started to sweat. She could see a dark patch beginning to appear between his pectorals. His hair was clinging to his forehead.

To take her mind off him temporarily, Scully offered to make them both some coffee before they started painting.

"Mmm, that'd be great," Mulder sighed. "Do you want me to start putting these newspapers down?"

"Oh, thanks, Mulder," Scully disappeared into the kitchen to make the coffee. What was the matter with her? She'd never got this worked up over Mulder before. She knew he was good looking, and she had seen his body more times than she could count. The tension in that room was unbearable.

"Sugar?" She called to Mulder.

"Yes, Honey?"

Scully laughed quietly to herself. She loved it when Mulder flirted with her like that. It didn't mean anything, of course. But still, all those comments about 'her nice little ass' and what she might get up to if she were stoned. They drove her crazy.

"Do you want sugar?" she repeated.

"Uh, no thanks, I've got to watch my figure,"

Again she smiled at his flirtatious nature. She stirred the coffee and carried the two mugs into the living room. She stopped in her tracks.

Mulder was bending over, straightening out the newspapers on the floor. His pert ass was in Scully's direct line of vision. She seemed to stand there forever, just enjoying the view.

He slowly got up and turned around. Scully's eyes quickly left their spot and she looked up at his face. She smiled uneasily and looked down at the mugs of coffee in her hands.

"Oh, lovely," he walked towards her. "Which one's mine?"

Shit. Scully couldn't remember. He didn't take sugar, did he? Which one did she put sugar in? The left or the right? She took a chance and held up her right hand to him. He smiled and took the hot mug from her. As he did so, their fingers grazed each other. Scully shivered as they made contact.

Mulder took a sip of the drink. The steam from the coffee outlined his beautiful facial features. He frowned.

"Uh, I think you've given me the wrong one,"

Shit. "Oh, sorry, Mulder, they must have got mixed up,"

"It's okay," he chuckled and handed back the mug when Scully passed him the other one. Again, their fingers touched briefly. He raised the mug to his lips. As he swallowed, Scully watched his neck.

"Beautiful," Mulder smiled and winked at her. "Thanks," He turned away and tended to the newspapers again.

Scully looked at the mug that he had handed back to her. Lifting it up, she placed her mouth on the spot where his lips had been. She didn't even take sugar in her coffee. But one mouthful of caffeine and sugar in her system was enough to bring her back to reality.

When they had finished their coffee, the two of them opened up a tin of paint each and started to pour it into the trays for the rollers.

"Tell me, Scully, why are you painting your apartment yellow?"

"It's not yellow, Mulder," Scully consulted the label on the paint tin. "It's 'siesta sun' on the walls and 'jaffa cake' above the picture rail and on the ceiling." She gave him that look that told him not to argue with her. "I don't know, I just thought it would brighten the place up a bit."

"Oh," Mulder looked up. "Okay then, tell me this: how the hell is little Dana 'Five Foot' Scully going to reach the ceiling?"

"Funny," She shot him a sideways glance. "Are we going to get started or not?"

Mulder went into the bedroom to get the ladder that Scully had borrowed from the guy next door. Scully made a start on the wall.

She took the roller in her hand and rolled it in the tray of paint. The cream paint that was there previously had already been stripped off the day before. Scully extended her arm and rolled the sponge cylinder along the wall.

"No, no, Scully, you're doing it wrong," Mulder put the ladder down and suddenly appeared behind her. "You're supposed to do it up and down, not side to side."

"Oh, okay," she could feel his breath on her neck as he drew nearer.

"Let me show you," placing one hand on her hip, he reached up with his free hand and closed it around hers, locking his fingers around it. He guided her arm, and together they moved the roller up and down the wall. Scully could feel his fingers gently stroking hers. She could hear his voice booming in her ear, though he was only whispering.

"You're not pressing hard enough," the emphasis on the word 'hard' sent a shiver running through Scully's entire body. Mulder's lips gently grazed her ear as he continued to speak. "Up and down, up and down, just like that." His hand slid up and squeezed her waist. "A little harder . . . that's it."

Scully was scared at how close they were. Maybe not scared, more tense. But she also felt wildly aroused. He was massaging her waist ever so slightly, caressing it, kneading her flesh with his fingers. Her ear was burning from the heat of Mulder's breath.

"That's it, keep going," he squeezed her hand. Mulder took a step closer to her. Scully felt his heart beating against her shoulder blade. She could also feel his erection pressing lightly into the small of her back. She gasped.

"I'll get the other roller," he said quickly, and left her. Scully swore she felt him stroke her ass as he went. She exhaled quickly and wiped her forehead, which had now gathered several beads of sweat. Scully could hear Mulder behind her. The newspapers crunched beneath his feet.

What the hell just happened? She must've imagined it. No, she definitely felt 'it'.

"Uh, Scully?"

She turned around. "Yeah?"

"Should I make a start on the ceiling?" He pointed to the tin of 'jaffa cake'. "I mean, seeing as you can't reach it . . ."

Though she didn't like him making fun of her height, or lack thereof, she laughed at him. "Go ahead, Mulder. Knock yourself out."

Mulder took his tray of paint and a roller, and placed them on the top of the ladder. Peeling off his T-shirt, he slowly climbed the steps until he could reach the ceiling. When he was about halfway up the ladder, he began to paint.

Scully could not keep her eyes off him. He was so graceful. He took a task as mundane as painting, and turned it into a beautiful display of masculinity and elegance. Scully observed the muscles in his arms as they tightened when he coated the roller with paint. She watched his arms and upper body stretch as he reached up and wheeled the roller along her ceiling, and glide back and forward. Scully was captivated by the expression of childlike excitement on his face, the glimmer in his eye, and the slight smile on his lips.

Mulder brought his arm down to gather more paint onto his roller. Scully gazed at his torso and the way his incredibly toned stomach rippled as he bent slightly, only to return to the elongated statue of beauty moments after. He had wonderful pecs and incredible abs.

The window was open to allow the paint fumes to escape. A gentle breeze came through the open window and blew the net curtain to the side, causing the sun to burst into the room. Light bounced off Mulder's exposed upper body. The sun shone on him as if he were a god. In Scully's eyes, he was.

All of a sudden, Mulder seemed to be conscience of the fact that Scully was watching him. He froze. Slowly, he lifted his head and looked at her. Their eyes met across the bare room. Scully jumped. Unbeknownst to her, the paint roller dangling at her side had spread 'siesta sun' over her thigh.

Mulder's face suddenly acquired a look of concern.

"Scully?" He took a step down. "Are you okay?"

"Uh . . . yeah, I . . ."

"Hey," Mulder jumped off the ladder and went up to her. He put his hand on her shoulder. "Scully, is everything all right?"

Scully nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine," That was a lie. "I just, uh . . . felt a little dizzy there for a second," That was true.

"Hmm," Mulder looked confused. "Maybe it's the paint fumes." He reached up and felt her forehead with the back of his hand. Now he looked concerned. "You're pretty hot, are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes, Mulder, I told you. I'm fine," she jerked her head away from his touch.

"Well," he didn't sound convinced. "Perhaps you just need a bit of fresh air. I'll open the window a little wider for you, okay?"

She quickly nodded and looked down at her feet, avoiding his piercing eyes. Scully watched his shadow move away from her across the newspaper-covered floor. She spun around and returned to her task.

Neither of them spoke for about two hours. Scully had put the radio on shortly after her little gaping session, so the two of them more or less worked in silence, with a bit of background music.

Scully was beginning to relax now. The embarrassment was over. She was even starting to enjoy herself. It had been a while since she had decorated. She remembered how she used to love helping her father when he painted or wallpapered her bedroom.

She was sitting on the floor with her legs crossed, painting around the door-frame with a small brush. Her back was sore, and her arms were beginning to ache.

Finally, she finished. Scully checked the tin of paint on the floor beside her. There was still more than half left.

She looked up at Mulder, who was just finishing off painting the far wall. He was standing on the ladder, painting the part of the wall where Scully couldn't reach. He had dots of yellow paint over his back. She wondered if he knew.

Mulder covered the last of the bare wall and stepped off the ladder to admire his work. Scully got up off the floor and joined him. She took the brush with her.

"Not bad, Mulder," she nodded in approval.

He folded his arms. "Mmm, not bad at all,"

"But you missed a bit."

Mulder looked at her and narrowed his eyes. "What?" He scanned the wall with his eyes. "Where?"

"There," Scully reached up with the brush and painted the end of his nose. He gasped and shook his head in surprise. Scully threw her head back and laughed loudly.

"Ooh, you little . . ." Mulder still had the roller in his hand, and he swept it across Scully's forehead.

"Ah, no, don't!" She shrieked as he gave her another lick with the roller. Scully got him back by slapping the side of his face with her brush.

"Right, that's it!" Mulder coated the palm of his hand in paint. "Come here!" He lunged forward and slapped Scully's ass when she turned to run.

"Mul . . . look what you've . . ." Scully struggled to see the yellow handprint Mulder had made on her the seat of her jeans. "I can't believe you did that!" She was still laughing. "Right, you're gonna get it now, you bastard!"

Mulder was laughing uncontrollably now. He didn't see Scully grab the big brush and dip it in the tin of paint. Mulder looked up just in time to see her arm jerk towards him. A spatter of paint came flying and hit him on the shoulder. He picked up the smaller brush that Scully had dropped and plunged it into the tray of paint he had been using. Scully screamed as he flicked paint at her.

They chased each other around the room. Scully ran underneath the ladder and Mulder followed, still launching splashes of paint in her direction. Occasionally, Scully would turn around and give Mulder another splatter. Together, they laughed, screamed, and cursed.

Scully was running out of paint. She had used up the last of the tin already. She decided to throw the paint as hard as she could. She raised the brush above her head, ready to bring it down. All of a sudden, Mulder leapt at her and threw his own brush to the floor.

"Nooooo!" Scully screamed as Mulder grabbed her brush. He tried to pry her fingers off the handle. Scully shouted various childish expressions such as, "It's mine!" and, "Get your own!"

Mulder somehow managed to get behind her and was holding onto her brush from behind. Trying to get the brush away from him, Scully squirmed in his grip. She tried to wriggle out from between his powerful arms. As she bent over, she felt his erection again, this time, pressed into her left ass cheek. She froze.

Taking advantage of her lapse in concentration, Mulder snatched the brush from her and laughed triumphantly. Scully immediately spun around and tried to win it back. She grabbed his big hands and tried to pull them off.

To her surprise, Mulder began pushing her backwards. She lost her balance and Mulder wrestled her to the floor. He straddled her and continued to paint her face.

Scully writhed beneath him, avoiding the brush. She felt the wetness of the brush moving downwards, towards the open neck of her shirt. She raised her hand, involuntarily, and flicked the brush out of his hand. It flew across the room.

Mulder suddenly grabbed her wrists and pinned both her arms above her head. They were both laughing still, but they were out of breath. Panting, the two of them looked into each other's eyes.

Scully saw Mulder's smile fade, and his eyes darken. His eyebrows narrowed and his breathing slowed. Sweat glistened on his cheeks and forehead, his hair was matted. He looked incredible.

Slowly, he drew nearer. His parted lips descended onto her mouth. She opened her mouth slightly in response. He tilted his head to the right. Their lips locked in a gentle, but passionate kiss. It seemed to last forever.

Mulder broke the kiss and lifted his head. Scully opened her eyes, unaware that they had even been closed. He loosened his hold on her wrists, but he didn't let go.

"Scully, I . . ." he trailed off. "I think . . . we should . . ." again, he lost his words.

"Get cleaned up," Scully finished his sentence for him.

"Yeah, get cleaned up,"

"Okay," she whispered. They stayed there awhile, just looking at each other. Scully filled the awkward silence. "Do you want to have a shower here, or . . .?"

"No, it's all right, I'll go home," he said quickly. His face had gone red. "Well, I had better . . ." Mulder released her hands and stood up. Scully got up and picked up his shirt from where he had tossed it on the couch. She held it out to him.

"Here's your shirt," She said quietly.

"Thanks," As he took it from her, he grabbed her hand by accident. There was another awkward silence, which Mulder filled with a brief "Goodbye," and left.

Scully sighed heavily, frustrated. This was all her fault. She had invited him over, she had lusted after his body, and she had started the stupid paint fight, which had led to this. Why couldn't she have just asked the ugly guy next door, the one who she borrowed the ladder from?

Feeling guilty, embarrassed, confused, and aroused, all at once, she headed for the shower. She put her clothes into the laundry basket and went into the bathroom.

After a couple of minutes in the shower, Scully thought she heard a noise. It seemed to come from outside the room. She listened.


Scully shrugged her shoulders and turned back to the shower, bowing her head to allow the hot water to trickle down her back.

Again, Scully felt as though something was in the apartment with her. She heard another noise and whirled around. Through the steamed-up glass of the shower compartment, she saw a figure enter the bathroom. She stood still as the figure opened the glass door and climbed into the shower with her.

Scully almost collapsed as Mulder wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into a burning kiss. She held onto his head as his tongue plunged into her open mouth.

His hand left her waist and made its way between her legs. Mulder's other hand turned her body to the side and he pushed her up against the glass. He separated her cleft with his fingers and slipped one into her vagina.

Scully threw her head back against his shoulder. Mulder's left hand slid up her body and began to fondle her nipples. He lowered his head and kissed her neck and shoulders. Scully slowly bucked her hips in time with his hand as two more of his fingers joined the first.

Reaching behind her, Scully grabbed Mulder's head and pressed her mouth to his. The taste of coffee still lingered on his tongue.

His fingers speeded up and his thumb circled her clitoris. Scully didn't know whether to push forward into his hand, or to press herself backward into his groin. Mulder didn't give her a chance to decide.

He suddenly seized her hips and twisted her around so she was facing him. In one fluent action, he lifted her up and pressed her back up against the glass wall of her shower.

Scully wrapped her legs around his waist and squeezed him hard. She locked her arms around his neck and silently urged him on. There was no time for words.

Mulder's grip relaxed a little and he let Scully slide down onto his huge cock at her own pace. She gasped as he entered her. Mulder closed his eyes and moaned softly. He waited until he was all the way in before he began to move.

The veins in Scully's body pulsated vigorously. Her heart pounded in her ears. The pace matched that of Mulder's hips, grinding into her. He kissed her neck again, his teeth gently scraping across her flesh.

Scully's hand moved to the back of Mulder's head, and she ran her fingers through his wet hair. She cried out.

"Mulder, I love you!"

"I love you too, Scully," Mulder moaned into her neck. It was the first time either of them had spoken since he left her apartment.

Mulder brought his hands up and cupped her breasts. He gently squeezed them together and stroked her nipples with his thumbs. Still thrusting into her, he lifted her up higher, sliding her further up the glass. He pressed into Scully, slipping her up and down the full length of his penis.

The intensity was increasing rapidly. Scully's orgasm was approaching at a phenomenal speed. She grabbed Mulder's shoulders and slammed her hips into him as hard as she could. He responded by driving into her with all his might.

Suddenly, Scully gave in and collapsed in a state of total ecstasy. She screamed as Mulder burst inside her with his jet of hot liquid. His hands slid down and he held her under her ass to keep her from falling. She gripped his body tightly, waiting for her pulse to begin to slow down to a healthy rate.

Mulder ran his tongue along her collarbone and up her neck. He nuzzled his face into the side of her head.

"Love you, Mulder," Scully whispered.

"Mmm, I love you too," He replied. "Sorry if I was a bit rough,"

She chuckled quietly. "It's okay,"

"Scully?" Mulder said softly. "Can I ask you something?"

She felt a little concerned at his tone of voice. He sounded serious. "Sure, what is it?"

He lowered his voice to a whisper. "What colour shall we paint your bedroom?"

The End

(24th August 2000)