Scully's Californication

Crossover: X-Files MSR and Californication

Set in or around the fifth season of The X-files, which makes Mulder about 36. Scully is 32. Also set in the fourth season of Californication, Moody having just cracked 50. Thanks to the magic of artistic license, both stories are happening at the same time … an X-File in itself. Slight artistic license also applies to characters and timelines of events in both shows. Don't think about it too much … just enjoy.

It wasn't too often that Scully had a juicy case and was waiting for Mulder to drift into the office … but this morning was different. Scully squirmed nervously in her chair as she flipped through the paperwork in the crisp new file. A mostly-finished coffee sat in a cup beside her.

She heard footsteps.

Mulder opened the door and distractedly motioned to flip the light switch, but realized it was already on. He looked up in surprise to see Scully sitting at his desk.

"Scully," he said, glancing at his Omega watch. "What the hell are you doing here so early? I thought I was the only one who had no life and came down to the basement this early in the morning."

Scully scowled a little. "Actually, I do have a life, Mulder, and I'd like to think you have one too. Anyway, I came in early because I have something I thought you'd like to see right away … a new X-File."

Mulder stared at her with an upturned eyebrow. "An X-File, Scully? You? Really?"

"Really, Mulder," said Scully, with an exasperated sigh.

"Well, then, lay it on me, G-woman. Are we going out chasing guys who can squeeze under doors, or babies with horns, or … dare I dream it and say it … little grey men?"

"No, nothing like that, Mulder, but I think you'll find this one interesting nonetheless."

Scully turned on the overhead projector and dimmed the lights. An image flashed on the screen of a voluptuous young woman in a tiny green bikini."

Mulder gave Scully his best WTF? look.

"I thought that would get your attention. It gets better, Mulder," Scully deadpanned.

"Whooooo … I'm not sure how it could," his eyes glued to the overhead, "but please … do go on."

"This young woman has gone missing without a trace. She's 19, and was staying with her father's ex-girlfriend, which seems a little odd in itself, I know. When the girl didn't come downstairs for breakfast, the ex went upstairs and found the door locked from the inside. She knocked but there was no answer. She found a key, opened the door and the girl wasn't there. The window was also locked."

"Ah, come on, Scully. A teenage girl? Who looks like that? She probably just staged the whole thing to sneak out and get her furrow plowed."

Scully sneered, thinking for a moment that just maybe all men really were pigs. She decided to let the comment slide.

"Yeah, whatever, but look at this."

The next slide showed a burn in the carpet, but not just any burn. It looked like the carpet had been eaten away and a frothy green goo surrounded the edges.

Mulder looked at her knowingly, his mouth hanging open.

"The substance on the carpet … it … it isn't … alien … is it Scully?"

"Well, the lab doesn't know what to make of it, but I suspect you and I have seen it before." The next slide showed the sheets spotted with blood. "I'm having the blood analyzed right now too."

Scully turned off the overhead and flipped on the lights. Mulder was always telling her where they were going, but this time it was her turn.

"The girl's been missing for three days and, because of the unusual circumstances, the local authorities have asked for our assistance. Pack your bags, Mulder, we're going to California to check this out. Venice Beach to be exact. We take off at noon."

"I'll be sure to pack some swim trunks and sunscreen," he said, as jumped exuberantly up and began to leave the office. He went out the doorway but poked his head back around.

"Uhhhh … you have a little green bikini by any chance, Scully?" Mulder grinned mischievously and bolted for the elevator.


Mulder awoke just as the plane touched down at LAX. Despite his lanky form, as a frequent traveler, Mulder had gotten used to sleeping in the cramped quarters of an airline seat. Although the airline seat was a better fit for her petite body, Scully had never been able to nod off in an airplane and envied Mulder's lengthy nap.

They disembarked and Mulder retrieved the luggage while Scully picked up the rental car. The agents buckled up and headed for Venice Beach. It was only about 3 p.m. L.A. time, but the agents had to re-set their watches from Washington's 6 p.m. She'd had a few snacks on the flight, but Scully's stomach was rumbling.

Mulder and Scully pulled up in front of a modern style cement and wood house on McKinley Avenue. They approached the front door in silence and rang the bell. It was answered by an early-40-something woman with long blond hair.

"Yes, how can I help you?" the woman asked curtly. The agents flashed their identification.

"We're with the FBI, ma'am," said Scully. "Are you Karen van der Beek?"

"Yes, I am. I suppose you're here about Mia. Come in," she said quietly.

Mulder allowed Scully across the doorstep first, placing his hand on the small of her back briefly. He was immediately struck by the home's graceful architectural simplicity. He wasn't much on décor, but he knew a few things about architecture and this house was obviously very well thought out. Scully didn't appear to notice a thing about the architecture, but followed the woman into the kitchen. She noticed a man in the shadows of the living room. He was watching her, leaning back against the walls with his arms crossed.

Karen stopped in the kitchen and faced the agents.

"Well, I didn't think I'd have the FBI in my home, but under the circumstances I can see why you're here. I've been feeling just sick since Mia disappeared. Her father … my ex-fiance in fact … is in Australia on business and Mia was staying with me and my daughter Becca. He was notified, but he's having trouble getting connecting flights back. I'm sure he must be worried sick too." Karen bit her lower lip and brought a Kleenex out of her pocket to dab a tear from her eye.

Out of the living room came the man from the shadows. He wrapped his arms around the sobbing woman and whispered something into her ear. "Thanks, Hank," she said. "You can be very sweet, you know."

The man slowly let Karen go and turned to the agents.

Scully's jaw dropped. Mulder remained expressionless.

"So," Mulder questioned, "has this Mia ever gone missing before?"

"Well," said the man, "Mia isn't exactly someone you might describe as a homebody. By the way, I don't think we've been properly introduced."

"Mulder … special agent Fox Mulder. And this is special agent Dana Scully."

"Moody … Hank Moody … general all-around immature dickhead," he smirked.

Mulder's eyes narrowed. There was something about this guy. He already wanted to shove his head against the wall. Several seconds of silence followed.

Scully, her eyes still glued to Moody, picked up the ball, although her voice seemed a bit shaky.

"Mr. Moody, what did you mean when you said Mia wasn't a homebody?"

Moody hesitated and gave Scully a very quick once-over with his eyes, stopping momentarily at her cleavage before speaking. Scully noticed, but she hoped no-one else did. The home was nicely air-conditioned, but she felt herself perspiring.

"Mia." Moody smiled slightly, slowly shaking his head from side to side. "Mia is not your average 19-year-old. She's brilliant, she's free-willed, drop-dead gorgeous, uninhibited … I guess some might call her a wildcat. She's left home more times than anyone can count, but she's always showed up a day or two later… hung-over, strung out or just plain exhausted. Regardless, she's an exceptional young woman and we fear this time something might have really gone wrong. Everyone wants her home safe … and soon. You think you can help us, Agent Scully?"

"I … I mean we … are sure going to try, Mr. Moody."

"Hank," Moody said gently. "I need you to call me Hank."

"Hank," Scully returned quietly.

Mulder looked at his partner, his jaw set, and back to Moody. "Can we see the room where the girl was staying, Mr. Moody?" said Mulder, putting just a little more emphasis on the "mister" than on the other words in his query.

"Knock yourself out. Up the stairs; first door on the left."

"Thanks," glared Mulder, turning for the stairs and running up two at a time.

As Mulder searched upstairs, Scully began further questioning of Karen and Hank. They told her a little more about Mia, themselves (apparently they were a former couple but were now "just friends"), how Mia was acting before the disappearance and a few other tidbits. Scully made a mental note that she didn't believe the "just friends" line at all.

And no matter what, she couldn't stop herself from staring. She didn't know why Mulder didn't see it … or Karen for that matter … it was so incredibly obvious.

Hank wanted to go outside for a smoke, so Scully went with him to the sidewalk in front of the house. He pulled out a pack of Kamel Reds and extended them to Scully.

"Oh, thank you, but I don't smoke," said Scully.

"You mean you don't smoke tobacco," Hank said calmly, lighting up and drawing in a long drag while staring into Scully's blue eyes. He did that 'look up and down' thing again, a little more lingering this time, and Scully felt a flush in her cheeks. She felt the smoke hit her face. She never liked when people smoked around her, but Hank made it look … "oh admit to yourself, Scully, he's just about the sexiest goddamn thing you've ever seen," she mused.

"Miss Scully, there are a few things I'd like to tell you, but I didn't want to say them in front of Karen," he said. He handed her a simple card with his name, address and telephone number. "If you drop by my place around nine tonight, I can share a few things with you."

"I'd be happy to do that, Mr. Moody … uh, I mean Hank," she said, fumbling the card. His fingers caught it before it fell and placed it in her hand. Scully could have sworn he caressed her palm gently as he pulled away, but brushed it off as her fevered imagination working overtime.

Mulder burst out of the house, noticing Scully and Moody on the sidewalk. He grimaced. "I don't know what it is, but don't trust that son of a bitch," he whispered under his breath.

Mulder didn't even look at Moody, but turned toward Scully. "Karen tells me they have extensive files on Mia at the local cop shop, so let's check into the hotel, then I'm going down to the station. I might be there half the night, Scully. That okay with you?"

"Sure, Mulder, I might be able to do some investigating on my own too," she said coolly, then turned to Hank. "It was nice to meet you Mr. Moody. I'm sure you'll be pivotal in my investigation." Mulder was scrutinizing Moody.

Hank grinned widely, which made Mulder want to kick him in the nuts. "Let's go, Scully. The sun's going to set soon and I wanna find this hotel in the light," he said, getting behind the wheel. Entering the car and fastening her seatbelt, she looked up at Hank. He was no longer grinning, but made a slight nodding movement. Scully turned away quickly.


It was several minutes before Scully spoke, but she soon wished she hadn't said anything.

"Mulder?."

"Yeah, Scully."

"Please tell me you saw what I saw."

"What, the fabulous architecture, the slimy green glop on the carpet that looked like toilet cleaner, or that asshole Moody?"

Scully sat in silence for a moment. "No, Mulder, none of that, although I'll have to take your word on the architecture and the green glop. I meant Moody. Mulder, I'm astonished. He could have been your twin brother. It's like he's your double."

Mulder glanced incredulously at Scully. "Are you completely nuts? I look nothing like that jerk. He's a geezer; he's got to be 50! He's scruffy, he's crude, he's starting to get a beer gut and his nose is way too big for his face," Mulder ranted. "You need to get your eyes checked, G-woman," he said, shaking his head. "Besides that, did you smell the guy? He must smoke as much as Cancer Man."

Scully was stunned. She couldn't believe he didn't see the uncanny resemblance. And why the hell was he ranting like that?

"One more thing, Scully. I really didn't like the way he looked at you. I'm not sure what it is, but that guy just rubs me the wrong way. I don't trust him." Mulder hesitated. "And I don't want you to have anything more to do with him on this case."

Scully felt the small hairs on the back of her neck perk up. She slowly turned to Mulder. "You what?" she growled. "Are you telling me what I can and cannot do and who I can and cannot see, Mulder? I'm a professional agent and a grown woman. I also think I'm a pretty good judge of character. After all, about five minutes into our working relationship, I knew you were going to be damned difficult to deal with from time to time. I guess I can count this as one of those times."

Scully gave him a stony stare. She saw Mulder grip the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turned red and clench so hard she could see his jawbone protruding. They drove in silence the next few blocks to the hotel.

Mulder exited the car and spent several minutes in the hotel office checking in and picking up the keys to their rooms. He came back to the car and the agents unloaded their luggage.

"Scully, I'm taking the car to the cop shop. I took a sample of that green goo and I'm going to have it re-analyzed. Just so you know, I'm not convinced it's what we thought it was. As I said, I could be a while, so I'll drop by and see you tomorrow morning ... probably pretty early"

His voice grew softer. He looked into the deepening blue of the evening Californian sky and sighed deeply. "Scully, I really am sorry if I upset you a few minutes ago. Maybe I can be a little over-protective of you sometimes." He stared at the pavement. "Really, I don't know what I'd do without you. Well, and as far as trust goes, you know my motto … trust no-one … except you. I always trust you, Scully." He paused for a moment again and looked up at her. "You're my one in six billion."

Scully walked around the car to Mulder and embraced him. He had no idea what he did to her when he spoke this way. She felt a familiar whole-body flush as his hands wandered gently across her back and he rubbed his face in her hair. They continued to hug and press their bodies together longer than most friends or agents might deem appropriate.

Scully felt the depths of her belly grow warm. She felt a squirming in Mulder's torso and wondered if he was feeling the same physical sensation. But this was not the time to go there, she sensed. Regardless, she wasn't about to let this opportunity slide without seeking a smidgen of additional affection. She planted her hands on both sides of his face and drew him down to place a lingering kiss his on forehead. Scully ached to aim that kiss six inches lower, as she had so many times in the past, but wasn't certain how Mulder would react. She swiftly let go and stepped back. Feeling her nipples harden, she covered them by crossing her arms.

Scully observed Mulder's usually pale cheeks had turned pink. "Well, Scully, I'd better get going," he stammered. "Have yourself a good evening. Try to relax a little, okay?" he said, getting into the rental car. "I'll try," said Scully. She waved goodbye and began to hoist all the luggage into her room. She was craving a long, steamy bath … and a pizza … not necessarily in that order.

It was 8:30 p.m. Scully had ordered pizza to be delivered to her room, devoured most of it, and taken a lengthy bath. She dressed casually for the Californian weather in a pair of lightweight navy slacks and a cream coloured T-shirt with a low scoop neck. She was going to Moody's despite Mulder's misgivings. "And there's nothing wrong with it," she said out loud to herself, "I'm going there as a professional investigating a case."

"Yeah, right," whispered the little devil she imagined perched on her left shoulder. "What looks like Mulder, but isn't Mulder, but you could pretend is Mulder?"

"Shut up," she said aloud, as the cab pull up in front of her room.


She gave the cabby the address on the card and enjoyed the short drive through L.A. She tipped the driver well and asked how late his company ran. "All night, lady," was the answer.

Scully strolled up the front walk, drew in a deep breath and knocked on the door. When the door opened, it took her a moment to let the breath out. Moody was dressed in a tight black T-shirt and dark denim jeans. He'd obviously just showered, as his hair was still a bit wet … it looked like he'd towel dried but hadn't combed it. His hair had that perfect mussed-up look she'd seen on Mulder just once or twice. Moody was also barefoot.

"Hi. Please enter, Agent Scully. I was hoping would come to see me tonight."

"Well, you said you had some things to share with me," said Scully.

"I do indeed," he said, heading toward the kitchen, "and this is the first one." Moody picked up a bottle of Scotch. "Will you have a drink with me?"

Scully examined the bottle. "Well, Hank, I'm usually more of a white wine woman, but I see that is a 12-year-old single malt Scotch. My dad taught me a good deal about Scotch and this brand was one of his favourites."

"Well, great then. You want it neat, with ice, soda?"

"I know this is an abomination to a true Scotch drinker, but I'd actually like a couple of ice cubes and a splash of really cold water if you have it."

"Miss Scully, you can have it and should have it any way you want it," said Moody, grabbing some ice cubes and pouring a generous amount of Glenlivet into a tumbler. "I believe we all need to enjoy things just the way we like them, not the way anyone else says we should," he continued, retrieving a bottle of water from the fridge and topping off the glass with it.

"Enjoy," he said, handing Scully the glass. She followed him to a large leather sofa in the living room and they sat. Moody put his bare feet on the coffee table and took a long drink of his Scotch. Scully took a small sip … excellent, a perfect mix … and then indulged in a good quaff. She was aware of music playing in the background … something by The Doors. It had been a while since she had tasted Scotch and somehow The Doors seemed a good accompaniment. She took another good drink.

"So, Hank," said Scully, holding onto her glass, "what is it you wanted to share with me … other than the Scotch, that is?" she queried, raising her glass and taking a sip of the smooth amber liquid.

Hank gazed at her with a small closed-lip smile. "Well, what I didn't want to say around Karen is what a truly naughty little girl her 'almost-stepdaughter' has been. I was collaborating on a book with a well-known rock star recently and I found Mia and him in a … uh … let's just say it was a compromising position."

He placed his Scotch on the coffee table and stretched out with his arms behind his head. "And when I found them, all she could do was laugh at me and say they had been in that position several times … umm … and many other positions, I'm sure. I just want you to know that I'm not convinced by the silly locked-door thing and the disappearance. I simply have the feeling she's out there getting her furrow plowed."

Scully was taking another sip of her Scotch while Moody was talking and suddenly started choking. The Scotch spilled down her chin, onto her shirt and splashed onto her pants. "Hey, hey," said Moody, putting his arm around her and rubbing her back. "I'm sorry if that was my fault. I didn't mean to sound like a pig; I was just giving my incredibly well-informed opinion."

Scully tried to regain her composure. "Oh, no, it was just me, but could you please get me a damp cloth for my shirt?" Moody went to the kitchen, pulled a cloth out of the drawer and brought it back warm and damp. "Here, let me help," he said, gently wiping under her neck and along the line of her T-shirt at the top of her chest. Scully looked down and was momentarily mesmerized by his moving hand. She watched a drop of the Scotch rolling down into her cleavage. Scully took the cloth from Moody's hand, said "thank you" very quietly and proceeded to dab across her T-shirt. She felt her nipples harden at her own touch, but didn't bother to conceal them like she had a couple of hours earlier.

Moody had moved back to his side of the sofa, watching intently. "You okay, Scully?"

"Oh, please, call me Dana," she said distractedly, dabbing here and there, "only one person calls me Scully."

"No, I think I'll call you Scully, just Scully."

Scully stared at the coffee table as she set down the cloth. She looked at Moody could have sworn he was leering at her. "I must be imagining that," she reasoned. He picked up her glass, went to the kitchen and brought back another drink …prepared perfectly once again.

"You seem a little wound up, Scully. I'm sure I've told you all I need to about Mia. There's not much more I can share about her. Maybe you need to relax a little."

"Funny, that's exactly what Mulder said to me earlier tonight," said Scully, sipping at the fresh drink.

"That Mulder's a clever man. A bit slow, maybe … but clever."

Scully gave him a quizzical look, but let the comment slide.

"Scully, I think I have just the thing to help you relax," said Moody, getting up and walking over to a wooden desk. He opened a drawer and took out a tin box, which he brought back to the coffee table. "Now, I wouldn't normally open this box in front of a federal agent, but I sense you are a woman who is very much in need, Scully."

Scully drew in a small breath of surprise as Moody opened the tin and revealed a half dozen joints lying atop a bag of weed.

"So, federal-woman, you gonna bust me or join me?" he grinned.

Scully tried her best to swallow a smile. It had certainly been a while. When she was at Quantico, one of her classmates had scored some great weed from the crime seizure compound. That was the last time. She and Jack Willis, her instructor at Quantico, had scored big time on a couple of occasions and spent more than a few nights listening to Pink Floyd and ravaging each other's bodies until the sun came up.

She'd never dared told Mulder, but she had also enjoyed a fair bit of the stuff at parties during medical school. Those were some pretty wild parties. Maybe it was the bit of a buzz from the Scotch, but Scully was gaping at and craving one of those joints. But … she'd have a bit of fun with this Moody fellow first. After all, how dare he plunk down a tin of weed in front of a federal agent.

She narrowed her eyes, put on her best FBI face and looked straight at Moody. "Hank, I don't believe the audacity of what you've just done," Scully barked. "You know I'm legally obliged to arrest you. I don't think you leave me much choice," she said sternly. Moody's eyes flew wide in surprise. She paused for a moment. "I'm going to have to join you," she said harshly. Scully began to smile as the look of panic left Moody's face and was replaced by a laugh.

Moody pulled out a neatly rolled joint and lit up, handing it over to Scully. She took it between her dainty fingertips and pulled in a long drag, closing her eyes and holding it in as long as possible before blowing the smoke out slowly. She opened her eyes and found Moody gawping at her. "I'm impressed," he said, taking back the joint, "you do that like a real pro."

Scully grinned. "Let's just say that I had a little … practice … in college."

"Yeah, college is a great place to practice, all right," said Moody, sucking in some more smoke and handing the joint back to Scully. I do some teaching at the local college and I see kids 'practicing' all the time."

The pair sat listening to Jim Morrison sing Riders on the Storm, its haunting effects of thunder and rain in the background. They passed the joint back and forth a few times. Scully and Moody talked about music. Hank said he was heavily into classic rock, while Scully told him of her fondness for jazz. The first joint didn't last long, so Moody lit up another one from the tin. Scully was starting to feel so relaxed. She wasn't sure if she should tell Moody, but she mused that this was actually more relaxed than she'd felt in years. She tried to imagine Mulder smoking a joint … but just couldn't picture it.

"So you're a teacher as well as a writer," Scully remarked, hoisting the Scotch in one hand and the joint in the other. She stretched out her legs and rested her tiny feet on the coffee table. "Tell me about what you've written."

"That's easy. Not much," said Moody, edging closer to Scully and taking the joint. He took a long toke and passed it back to Scully before continuing. "I've written a few books … South of Heaven, Seasons in the Abyss, my biggest hit, God Hates Us All … a gem if I do say so myself … which was turned into a piece-of-shit movie."

Scully bolted upright for a moment. "Crazy Little Thing Called Love? Is that you? Oh my god, I thought something about your name sounded familiar and now I've put it all together."

"So, you've seen it?" Moody grimaced. "What did you think?"

"Well, ah, I haven't actually seen it. My work takes so much of my time, I don't go to many movies. But I do hang around in airports a lot." Moody raised an eyebrow, which made Scully chuckle and smack him on the shoulder. "No, nothing like what you might be thinking. What I meant was, I'm forced to wait around for flights constantly and I'm always looking for something to do. I usually end up at the magazine rack. I can often get most of what I want out the magazines without ever having to pay for them. Anyway, I read an article about that movie in People or something and I guess they mentioned how the movie was created from a book by a guy called Moody … I remember thinking Moody was kinda a funny name," she said, finishing the last shard of the joint. Scully tried to control herself, but couldn't stifle a giggle.

"Yeah, well it's an appropriate name. I can't imagine a moodier son of a bitch than me. Half the time I can't get a fucking word out of my brain and through my fingertips. Just to keep going, I've sunk as low as writing a shitty blog for Hell-A Magazine, which is a total piece of Internet crap. I was feeling really horrible about my career for a while. Although, I must say I had some success recently."

"Another novel?" asked Scully, draining her Scotch and setting down the glass.

"Huh. Not exactly. Let's just say I provided the content for a saucy little story and another author decided to … collaborate with me. Turned out to be a big hit … might be a best seller, actually."

"Wow, that's great," Scully enthused. "What's it called?"

Moody grimaced and for a moment Scully thought he looked a bit sick, which was confusing. It was even more confusing when he smiled the next second, leaned in close to her and whispered, "You know about ghost-writing, don't you? You can't tell who you've ghost-written for. It's like your job in the FBI … all cloak and dagger, right?" Moody moved even closer and brought his lips to her ear. "Actually, Scully, I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you."

Scully thought that was the funniest thing she'd ever heard. She collapsed into Moody in a fit of uncontrollable laughter. Moody started laughing like a buffoon and wrapped his arms around the giddy agent, tickling her ribs. His lips discovered her neck and he began to nibble on a particularly delicious spot. Scully was still giggling, but then started moaning … and then giggling again. She was squirming and twisting in his arms. He reacted by holding her even tighter. She ended up sideways on his lap. Moody moved his lips down her neck and started to place a series of tiny kisses along her collarbone.

Scully wasn't giggling anymore. The only sound coming out of her was a long, constant moan. She wrapped her arms around Moody's neck, which allowed him to move lower, kissing and licking the skin at the top of her T-shirt's low scoop front. He slowed his actions and looked up at Scully. She was a classic vision of sensuality, thought Moody, her head thrown back and eyes closed.

"You want this, Scully, don't you? You want more of this?"

Scully opened her eyes. "I can't think of anything I would want more. I'm sure I'm high and a little drunk, but I'd want this even if I wasn't."

Moody took that as permission to raise himself up and crush his lips to Scully's. Scully reciprocated by opening her mouth and sucking his tongue into her mouth. They kissed passionately as their hands explored each other's body. As Scully's hand started wandering along his thigh, Moody pulled back slightly, breaking their kiss.

"You've been wanting this for years, haven't you, Scully? You've been fanaticizing about me at work, at home and during all those long flight hours when I sat close beside you."

Scully knew she was confused by alcohol, drugs and desire, but gave Moody a bemused look. "What do you mean? How could I have fanaticized about you for years, Hank? We've just met."

Moody stroked Scully's hair and smiled gently. "I know, Scully. I'm a writer, remember? I study human behaviour and I knew as soon as I saw the two of you. And I know exactly what you saw in me. He could be my younger brother. Karen is too freaked out about Mia. And he sure as hell didn't want to see it." Moody paused. "But you did."

Scully sat in stunned silence, looking deeply into those perfect hazel eyes. They were outlined by more crinkles, but they were so much like his eyes. She ran her fingers through his dark hair … it felt like his hair. And he knew! She wasn't sure what to say, but wasn't about to deny it.

"It's okay, Scully. I don't mind. In fact, I find it extraordinarily sexy … and a little kinky. Nothing wrong with kinky! Do you want me to make love to you, Scully?"

Scully's heart raced. The room was spinning. Her breath was short and a persistent ache was growing between her legs. She crushed her body into his.

"Of course that's what I want, Hank."

Moody pulled back a little once again and pushed Scully away at the shoulders. Scully looked perplexed.

"Scully, I'll give you whatever you want, but there's just one catch." He slowly shook his head from side to side. "You can't call me Hank."

Scully cocked her head to one side. "You want me to call you Moody?"

"No, not that." Moody drew himself close to her face. "You know what you want to call me. You know the name you want to cry out in a crazy fit of passion."

Scully gasped. Moody licked his bottom lip seductively and leaned in a little. "Say it." Scully was silent. "Say it, Scully. Ask me to make love to you … but don't use my name."

Scully knew Moody was playing with her, but it was a game that was impossible to resist. She

swallowed hard and closed her eyes. "Oh my god, yes. I do want you to make love to me. I've wanted it for years. Will you please make love to me? Will you please make love to me … Mulder?"

"All you had to do was ask Scully. I've been waiting for you to ask for years," he said, diving into her mouth again. Their kisses were deep and fervent, leaving them both gasping. They tugged each other's T-shirts up over their heads and threw them to the floor. Scully lay back on the couch. Moody was up on his knees, straddling her. He slowly unbuttoned her pants and unzipped them, revealing white cotton underwear that matched her white cotton bra. He smiled while looking at her. "Nice, very nice. Simple and classy." He ran his hands across her breasts, feeling the erect nipples beneath.

He leaned down to kiss her, his left hand buried in her hair and his right hand sliding under her body. He quickly found the back of her bra and opened the claps one-handed. Moody swiftly pulled the bra forward and off as he lifted himself up again.

Scully had never met a man who was so deft at brassiere removal. "I'm very impressed," she tittered. "Lots of practice," he said, before dipping down to suck on her left nipple. Scully started groaning as he switched back and forth, nibbling and sucking on her breasts. She reached down between his legs and rubbed his hardness through the denims, eliciting moans on his part.

As he kissed and licked, Moody pushed down on Scully's slacks. He kissed his way down to her navel before rising up to pull off her pants and underwear. Suddenly he was ogling.

"What is it? Is something wrong?" Scully asked self-consciously.

"Wrong? Oh my god, no, nothing's wrong," he said. "It's your bush. It's your beautiful red bush. Oh, Scully, do you have any idea what a red bush does to a guy? I'm so happy you don't shave this," he remarked, stroking her pubic hair gently. "Oh, Scully, I really want to feel this on my face." He looked her right in the eye. "Ask me; ask me to do it. You know what to say," he dared.

Scully gulped. She hesitated, but wanted this badly and knew he wouldn't do unless she asked the way he wanted … the way she had habitually fanaticized.

"Okay. Yes. Please. Please bury your face in my bush, Mulder. Please go down on me. I want to feel your breath and your lips and your tongue on me. Please … oh please, Mulder."

He didn't need to be asked again. Moody knelt on the rug by the couch and pulled one of Scully's legs over his shoulder to open her up more. He parted the hair with his thumbs and noticed her vulva was a very dark pink and glistening with moisture. Moody slowly rubbed his entire face over her bush and placed tiny kisses everywhere his lips touched. His nose grazed her clit and Scully twitched, a sharp gasp coming from her throat.

Spreading her labia wide, he began to explore with his tongue, moving swiftly over all the slick, soft surfaces of her tissues. Her hips started gyrating this way and that. He experimented sticking his tongue in and out of her opening. She was starting to pant and was moaning loudly. Her hands tangled in his hair and she pushed his head into her mound.

"Oh, this is so good. Oh, you have no idea. Please don't stop. Please don't stop, Mulder!"

Moody grinned as he continued to attack her womanhood. He started flicking her clit with the tip of his tongue and Scully's moan turned into a throaty growl. He continued for a moment, but sensed she was close. He stopped. Scully whined loudly. Moody laughed.

"Scully. What do you want? Do you want to cum like this or do you want a piece of me?" he taunted.

Scully threw back her head. "Oh, yes. Yes, I want to feel you on top of me and inside me. I want to cum with my arms and legs wrapped around you."

"Like I said, Scully, all you had to do was ask," he said bluntly. Moody stood up and gazed at the woman stretched out on his couch. Her ivory skin was flushed in all the right places. He seldom saw such perfectly white skin in California. Most of the women were tanned beyond all reason … either from hours in the sun or having spent hundreds of dollars in the tanning booth. Scully's skin reminded him of the women back in New York. He was incredibly turned on.

Scully watched intently as Moody unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, pushing them down and using his bare feet to free himself of the denim. He wasn't wearing any underwear. She tried not to stare but was unable to take her eyes off his massive erection. "This might hurt," she thought, grinning in spite of herself.

Moody reached into the tin on the coffee table, set the remaining joints aside and pulled out a condom from under the bag of weed. He opened it and slid it onto himself. He gave his shaft one slow stroke upward and threw his head back as he felt pre-cum lube the inside of the condom.

"Are you ready, Scully?" he asked. She bit her lower lip and nodded her head. He lowered himself onto her and began kissing her face. Scully felt his cock pressing against her thigh. She thrust upward, pushing her clit against his belly.

Moody felt down between her legs, gathered her wetness on his fingers and rubbed it on all over his cock. "Hold your legs together, Scully," he whispered in her ear. She complied. He took the slippery cock in his hand and shoved it between her closed legs, and pushed it up tight against her pussy.

"Squeeze your legs tight, Scully," he panted. Moody began to move slowly, the entire length of his shaft rubbing against her centre with each thrust up and down. Scully had never had it quite this way before. Most guys had wanted her legs spread wide open. This was novel … and marvelous! She could feel the head of his penis rubbing teasing her opening, but not quite entering.

He kept up this action for several minutes, meeting the rhythm of her thrusting hips. He was continually placing small kisses on her neck and nuzzling his nose in her hair. Her head was buzzing and her level of arousal was peaking. She was also aware of his growing hardness and increased respiration.

"Scully," he asked, "how are you doing? Because I'm pretty close. I'm trying to hold on for you, so you have to let me know whether to stop or not."

"No. Please don't stop. I'm so close. But please, I really need you in me. I want to cum with you in me. I want to feel you spurt in me."

Moody stopped moving entirely. Scully let out a high-pitched whine. He placed a hand on her right cheek and looked her in the eye. "Ask nice," he commanded. "Ask the way I told you."

Scully sucked in her lips. It was now or never. She closed her eyes tight.

"Oh, for crying out loud, fuck me," she shouted. "Fuck me, Mulder. I want you to fuck me, Mulder. Fuck me so hard I'll never forget it," she cried.

She parted her legs and felt him enter her swiftly and fully. He filled her passage completely and hammered into her relentlessly, slamming into her clit with each thrust. Within moments, Scully saw lights and colours flashing behind her closed eyelids. "Mulder," she screamed. "Oh my god, Mulder." The world exploded as she spasmed over and over, the orgasm causing her entire body to convulse upward. She was aware of him pressing hard into her as the sensations flowed upward and outward from her core. The quivering in her body started to subside, but aftershocks where still hitting her.

She finally opened her eyes. He was perched over her and had obviously been watching her face as she came. His mouth was open and his hot breath came out in short bursts. He reached down and stroked her clit with his thumb as grabbed hold of his cock. Very slowly, he withdrew and yanked off the condom. Looking down, he placed his penis on her bush and gave it a few swift tugs. He groaned loudly and his body convulsed sharply as he watched the cum spurt out onto the top of her red bush. He rubbed the head of his cock into the cum, making a sticky mess of her silky red hair.

Moody gazed into Scully's eyes, which looked up at him with confusion. He leaned in and kissed her softly. He rose up and stretched over to the coffee table for the wet cloth he had given Scully earlier. It was a little cold and Scully gasped a little when it touched her skin, but Moody cleaned her up gently. He tossed the much-used cloth back onto the table.

Moody slid down onto the edge of the couch and pulled Scully atop him, her back resting against the back of the sofa. He wrapped his arms around her and stroked her head, which came to rest on his chest. They lay in silence for a while as their breathing slowed. Scully stroked Moody's chest languidly. She still felt a pleasant buzz from the joints they had smoked.


"Hank?"

"Yes, Dana?"

"I don't understand. That was all fantastic … mind-blowing in fact … but you didn't cum inside of me. I asked you to the way you wanted. Didn't you want to?" she asked, gazing up at him.

Moody stared at the ceiling for a minute before he answered. "You have no idea how much I wanted to."

Scully didn't understand and gave him a questioning look. "I really wanted to," he repeated, nodding his head. "But if you look inside your heart, you'll see that it's not exactly what you wanted. You didn't want me to cum inside of you. You wanted him."

Moody took his eyes off the ceiling and looked at Scully again, smiling gently. "Dana, if I had cum inside of you, it might have fulfilled a certain fantasy just a wee bit too much. What I've done is left you wanting just a little bit more than what you got. And you know exactly what you have to do to play out that end of the fantasy. It has to be with him."

It was Scully's turn to stare at the ceiling. "But, Hank, I don't know how Mulder truly feels about me. I've caught him gazing at me on occasion. We hug. We kiss each other's foreheads. He's a big tease. But I'm not sure if he really wants me the way I want him."

Moody gently pulled her face toward him. "Are you crazy, woman?" Scully gave him that questioning look again. "Dana, he is mad about you. He wants you bad!" Scully raised her brows and tried to speak, but nothing came out. Moody continued. "When you two came to the house, I thought you were really hot, so I checked you out. You couldn't have seen it with him standing behind you, but Mulder gave me a look like he wanted to kick me in the nuts. And later when he came out of the house and saw us on the sidewalk, I thought he was going to pull out his gun and blow me away."

Scully smirked a little. "I'll admit something to you Scully. I've seen my share of jealous boyfriends and husbands in my time, but the look of distrust and hatred Mulder gave me today made my blood run cold." Moody punctuated his words individually by tapping a finger on Scully's chest. "He. Is. In. Love. With. You."

Scully felt something in her chest start to swell and a lump form in her throat. Could what Hank was saying be true, she wondered. Had she been holding back needlessly? If Hank had really seen that level of vehemence in Mulder, it must have meant something. Scully had an idea why Karen had called Moody sweet. Sure, she had been an easy mark tonight, but he also helped her realize just how much she wanted from her partner. She looked up at Moody.

"Hank? How can I really know? I don't want to ruin things between Mulder and I. How can I really know if he feels the way you think he does?"

Moody gave her a wicked grin. "Dana, you are so incredibly sexy. Honestly, you wouldn't have to do much. One of those forehead kisses that moves south. Your lips on his ear. A risqué observation about the way he looks. A hand placed on a thigh. Any of those actions … Mulder would melt."

"I've told you I make a habit of studying human nature. And I can tell you this for certain. Mulder is a man and he's a man who has most certainly fantasized about you. You just need to make one small move and he'd be putty in your hands." Moody kissed her forehead. "I guarantee it."

Scully pulled herself up and gave Moody a lengthy kiss. She felt truly happy in his arms, but also sensed it was time to move on. She wasn't sure how to approach it, however. Suddenly, she felt a hot, sharp smack on her ass.

"Ow!" she screamed, looking at Moody in shock and surprise.

"Well, Miss Scully, don't you think it is about time you were moving on? I think you've learned everything you're going to learn tonight," Moody chuckled. "There's something I want you to have, though," he said, reaching over to the coffee table. He passed Scully a handful of joints. "I sense Mulder is a guy who needs to relax … a lot. These might help. Wrap them in that Scotch-soaked T-shirt and stuff it into the middle of your suitcase. That should throw off the airport hounds … I doubt they'd suspect a fine upstanding FBI agent such as yourself anyway."

Moody gently pushed Scully off of him. They stood. He held her and kissed the top of her head. "Go get em, G-woman," he said softly.

Moody pulled on his jeans as Scully dressed. She was about to speak, but Moody put a finger to her lips and shook his head. Scully picked up her cellphone and called the cab company. She told the man on the other end she'd be waiting outside. Without looking back, Scully left Moody's house and stepped out into the warm Californian night to await her taxi.


Scully's phone rang on the nightstand. She barely opened her eyes, but picked it up. "Scully," she said automatically.

"Scully, I'm sorry to wake you. I know it's early, but I wanted to tell you I've wrapped things up."

"Mulder?" she said, sitting up in the hotel bed and gazing at the bedside clock. It said 6 a.m. "Where are you?"

"I'm at the local cop shop. I've been here all night, but what a friggin waste. That girl Mia? They just pulled her in an hour ago. Seems she took something of a field trip with a local rock band. She's in a holding cell right now. She's been puking her guts up pretty much since she came in."

"But Mulder, what about the locked door and the blood on the sheets."

Mulder laughed briefly. "Scully, from what I've been able to gather, she was in her room with some guy. They were making out when … ahhhh … Mother Nature decided to visit the young lady. They were also burning some sort of dope on a spoon and the cops here think that's what the green goop was on the carpet. It's still being analyzed in the lab.

"Anyway, she snuck out with this guy, but not before locking the door from the outside, which initially made it look weird to the cops. It's pretty open and shut, Scully. I'll be here for just a little while longer, but then I'm coming back to the hotel to clean up. I've already booked us on a noon flight back to D.C. Some Californian beach vacation, huh Scully?"

"Uh, yeah. Sorry I dragged you out here for nothing, Mulder."

There was momentary silence on the phone. "Ah, Scully, that's all right. Any field trip with you is a good field trip. See you soon."

Scully heard Mulder's phone click off and she collapsed back onto the bed.

Scully heard a knock on her hotel room door. She had a pretty good idea who it was.

"Scully, do you have my luggage?" Mulder asked as she opened the door.

"Yeah, I do, Mulder, so how about you just get cleaned up here." Mulder nodded. He opened his suitcase and took out some fresh clothes. He was looking forward to a hot shower.

"I won't be long, Scully. Just relax and we'll get on our way soon," he said, heading for the bathroom.

Scully lay on the bed, listening to the water run. He'd left the bathroom door open and she could hear him moving about in the shower. She listened to the squeak of the faucet as he turned it off. Each sound seemed magnified to her. Mulder walked out of the bathroom wearing slacks, but no shirt, scrubbing his head with a towel. Scully summoned up her courage.

"Mulder," she said, propping herself up on an elbow on the bed. "Have you ever thought about just towel drying your hair and not combing it? I've only seen you that way a couple of times, but it's a really sexy look on you."

Mulder stopped in his tracks and stared at Scully, stretched out on the bed. "Uhhh … I guess I could do that. You don't think I'd look too mussed up?"

"No. I think you'd look wonderfully mussed up, actually." Scully gazed at him seductively, trying to be as obvious as possible about checking out his body.

Mulder remained frozen where he stood for a moment and didn't speak. He returned to the bathroom and finished dressing, coming back out with his hair wonderfully mussed up. He zipped up his suitcase and told Scully he was ready to go. As they went through the doorway of the hotel, Scully placed her hand on Mulder's back and let it slide down just below his beltline. Mulder froze in place yet again. Scully didn't move her hand. They looked at each other, but neither spoke for a moment. Scully broke the silence.

"I missed you last night," Scully said quietly. "There was something I wanted to ask you, but I guess it'll have to wait now until we get back to D.C."

"What did you want to ask me?"

Scully smiled coyly. "Some things are worth waiting for," was all she said, before withdrawing her hand and walking to the car.

The agents packed up their luggage drove to LAX.


Mulder and Scully sat in twin seats on the airplane, awaiting take-off. Scully squirmed in the cramped airline quarters.

"Mulder, I don't know what it is. You can fall asleep at the drop of a hat on these flights, but I just can never do it. I'm going to end up exhausted by the time we get home."

Mulder slowly wrapped his arm around Scully. "Well, Scully, I think what you need to do is relax. You need to feel safe and secure." He pulled her closer. "If there's anything I can do to help, just ask."

Scully looked directly up at Mulder. She reached out a small hand and rested it on his knee for a moment. Seconds later, she began to stroke her hand ever-so-slowly up and down the inside of his thigh. The corners of her lips were upturned slightly as she looked into those dark hazel eyes. Scully felt Mulder' arm stretch around her further and a hand gently stroking the the side of her breast. Mulder turned his face into her hair, inhaling deeply, and his lips grazed her ear. They both shuddered a little.

Scully spoke softly. "Really, Mulder? All I have to do is ask?"

Oblivious to the other passengers, Mulder stroked Scully's cheek with his long fingers. He leaned in and pressed his lips to her forehead. Scully lifted her head a little and their lips met, brushing softly and gently. Mulder pulled his mouth back slightly but touched foreheads with her, gazing into her blue eyes.

"Really, Scully. All you have to do is ask."

Scully smiled. "I'll keep that in mind when we get back to D.C."

Mulder wrapped his arms around her as Scully rested her head on his chest. She felt the gravity of the plane's take-off pushing her into Mulder's chest. Scully couldn't remember the last time she felt so completely relaxed. Within minutes, both agents were sound asleep and heading for home.

The End.