Title: Dividends
Author:  Suzanne Schramm
Email:  sister_suze@yahoo.com
Rating: PG-13 for lascivious thoughts and a little action
Classification:  MSR
Spoilers:  Slight through "Triangle"
Distribution:  Gossamer, please.  Everyone else just let me know so
I can have visitation privileges.
Summary: A late night conversation as Scully takes stock on the
last six years.

Disclaimer:  They're certainly not mine but I would pay money to
see this done on the real thing.

A world of gratitude and thanks go to my beta readers: Dasha,
Rachel and Sharon for their support and guidance.  But especially
to Sharon who (gasp!) actually encouraged me NOT to go for all-out
smut.

Still wanna read it?  I hope you do.  Aw, come on.  It's a short
one, you can squeeze it in.

And finally - For Deborah (I'm a little late with the Mulder POV,
but, hey, Merry Christmas!)

*****
But you can say baby
Baby can I hold you tonight
Maybe if I told you the right words
At the right time
You'd be mine.

   Tracy Chapman

*****

It's nearly midnight and I'm in yet another hotel room watching
'Cheers' on tv.  The jokes are old but they still make me laugh out
loud.  I used to love this show.  No matter what city, what grisly
psychopath Patterson had me out searching for, at least on
Thursdays I was guaranteed a laugh.

There's a knock on the door just as Norm delivers another pithy
one-liner. Still chuckling, I go to answer it.  I'm pretty sure
it's Scully, but she's never come to visit this late before.  I
wonder if she could hear me laughing through the wall.

"I'm sorry officer," I say as I open the door.  "If I promise to
keep the noise down, will you promise not to tell my parents?"

"Hey," she squints up at me from the hallway.  "I was just
wondering what was so funny in here."

As if on cue, the television audience laughs in the background.

"I'm sorry," I apologize for real this time.  "I didn't mean to
wake you."

"You didn't.  I couldn't sleep."

"It's those big piles of manure, " I say, stepping aside so she can
come in.  "They keep me awake, too."

"Actually I think it was that double espresso.  I just feel wired
tonight."

Scully sits on the second bed and gives it a test bounce.

"Firm enough for you?" I ask, and she gives me a look that
increases my heart rate.  Suddenly the reality of the situation
hits me.  It's late, she's wired and we're in the middle of
nowhere.  My normally staid partner is wearing nothing but her
pajamas and a robe.  Parts of me are starting to feel firm enough.

"I think it's the same mattress as in my room."  She gives another
bounce. "I'm sure of it."

"I think we got identical rooms, Scully.  The only thing to
recommend this room is the pleasure of my company."

She gives me half a smile.  "That was why I came over."  Enigmatic
Dr. Scully indeed.

She gets up off the mattress and walks over to the small
refrigerator tucked under the counter by my bed.  Opening the
fridge she surveys the sodas and mini-bottles inside.

"Mulder?  Are you thirsty?" she asks over her shoulder as she leans
down to grab something from inside.

"Sure.  Give me one of whatever you're drinking."

Scully turns and holds out two mini-bottles to me.  "We've got
Bacardi and we've got Crown Royal."

"Do we have Coke?"

"If you want it."

I realize she's not planning on mixing her drink so I shrug.

"Nah, straight up."

Scully gives me a look - half disapproval, half amusement.

I reach across the bed and take the whiskey from her but she's
still holding the rum out, wiggling the bottle a little in
invitation and I notice for the first time that she has two more
bottles in her other hand. Okay, we're drinking doubles.

I've never figured Scully for much of a drinker.  I'm a little
curious as to her reasons for drinking tonight but I don't want to
pry.  If she wants to talk, she'll talk.

She goes back to the second bed, sitting down on the side closest
to my own.  Only three feet of carpet and a night stand separate
us.

The melancholy closing music for "Cheers" is playing as I open the
bottle and take a small sip.  Oh hell, why not.  I take another,
slightly larger drink, enjoying the burn as it slides down.

Scully reaches for the remote and then hesitates, looking over at
me.  "Do you mind?" she asks.

"Surf away," I tell her, setting both bottles on the night stand
and settling back against the headboard.  This should be
interesting, a person's late night television viewing habits say a
lot about them.

Scully flips through a few commercials, a talk show and an action
movie before she stops on an old black and white movie.  I can't
remember the name of it, but the acting is stilted even if the
dialogue is snappy.

Out of the corner of my eye I see Scully set the remote down on the
nightstand.

For several long, comfortable minutes we watch the movie, sipping
at our drinks, neither of us speaking.  I'm only half watching the
picture as I think about why Scully would turn up in my room this
late.  Then it dawns on me.  It's always startling to me to realize
that Scully gets lonely, too.  She seems so independent.  But I
think tonight she just doesn't want to be alone.

"Do I look older to you?" Scully asks.  I turn my head in surprise.
She's propped up on one elbow, looking at me intently.

"What?"

"Do I look older to you?  I found a picture of us the other day. It
must have been taken when we first started working together, my
hair was still long.  And I thought 'my God, we were so young'."

She looks down, her finger tracing the ugly paisley print of the
comforter, so I can't see her eyes but her voice sounded wistful.

"Are you saying I look older, Scully?"

She looks up at me, tilting her head as if thinking about her
answer before replying.  "Not dramatically.  Just generally.  Six
years is a long time, Mulder.  We've been through a lot, haven't
we?"

I sit up straighter, remembering those first few months together
and the wary dance we had done before finally gaining each other's
trust.

At that first meeting I had thought her pretty, in a stuffy,
studious kind of way.  I had silently laughed at the
powers-that-be, thinking they could seduce me with this little
redhead.  You see, when I learned that my partner was going to be a
woman, I had fully expected them to send a Diana.  I was still
licking my wounds at her abrupt departure and probably would have
fallen right into bed with a tall, dark and headstrong woman.  A
fatal combination for me everytime.   Especially if they thought
they were better than me.

The only part of Scully they got right was the headstrong bit.  At
first sight, I had dismissed her outright as love interest
potential. They couldn't have chosen less wisely.  Or so I thought.

And now, all these years later, that little spy is asking me to
compare Scully-Then with Scully-Now.  Two completely different
people.

"Scully," I pause and then answer honestly in a rush of words.
"You're more beautiful to me now than you were all those years
ago."

She smiles and I decide it was worth the risk appearing foolish.

"How much did you drink?" she asks.

I hold up my half-empty mini-bottle.  "Not much."  I look at the
two empty bottles on her side of the nightstand and her eyes follow
my gaze.

"I'm not drunk," she tells me self-righteously.  "I'm just a little
buzzed."

"Of course."

She flops onto her back and gives a soft sigh.

We go back to watching the tv.  The usual commercials for the
insomniacs and losers up this late repeat every ten minutes.

"Have you ever called one of those psychic lines?" Scully asks as
Kenny Kingston assures us that his psychics are not only genuine
but also caring.

"Have you?" I ask.

She giggles softly.  "I almost did once."  She closes her eyes and
shakes her head in self-derision.

I decide to have some fun here.  She seems in a talkative, teasing
mood, something we rarely get to savor.  "I frequently do."

Her eyes open and she gives me an expectant look, waiting for me to
continue.

"You know those amazing leaps of logic people credit me with?"  I
shrug. "Psychics."

Scully smiles and props herself up again.  "They're on your speed
dial, are they?"

"Absolutely."  I tell her seriously.

Her brow wrinkles.  "Am I before or after Dionne on your speed
dial?"

I frown.  "I was hoping it wouldn't come to this... you're number
three."

"Three!  Who's the second one?"

"Scully, the 900-number calls I make are not your business."

She purses her lips, giving me another assessing look.  "You're
depraved, Mulder, but I hope you're not that depraved."

"Oh yeah?  Who else is on your speed dial?"  I move so that I'm
mirroring her position, propped on my elbow, head on my hand.

"You're making the assumption that you're on my speed dial."

"Let me guess - your mother and Frohike."

Scully gives a soft snort.  "You're only right on one of them.  I
don't need my mom on speed dial, she always calls me."

Our eyes meet and I smile at her.  "I bet Frohike loves it when you
call me to talk dirty and punch his number by mistake."

"I only did that once and it was Byers who answered the phone."

"That would explain why he avoids direct eye contact with you."

Scully closes her eyes, avoiding direct eye contact with me.  "God,
Mulder, don't let me say any more.  I'm going to regret this in the
morning."

"Why?"

"I just am.  Don't you ever get drunk and say things you regret?"

"Are you admitting you're drunk?" I tease.

She opens her eyes again.  "No.  No, I, I just meant in general."

"I don't think you've said anything yet tonight I could use against
you later."

Scully lies back again, taking a deep breath and releasing it
slowly.  I can't drag my eyes away from the rise and fall of her
chest.  Lately she's taken to wearing shirts with a lower cut in
front and it's all I can do not to stare sometimes.  I feel like
I've hit puberty a second time and just discovered breasts.

C'mon Scully, I think.  Say something I'd never use against you
later.

"I should go now," she murmurs.

"You're not bothering me," I say, hoping she doesn't mean it.  The
room is going to feel so empty if she leaves.  "The movie's not
over yet.  You leave now and you'll never know how it ends."

"I already know how it ends."  Her voice is growing softer, she's
fading fast.  "Besides I have a tv in my room..."

"And what fun is that?  Watching a late night movie by yourself?"

Her head rolls to look at me and she arches the eyebrow.

"I should know," I continue.  "I watch them alone all the time.
It's much better when someone else is there."

She gives me a drowsy smile.  "I know the kind of movies you watch
alone late at night."

The blood all rushes southward as my mind processes those movies
and her sleep-slurred voice at the same time.

Scully's head is still turned toward me and she closes her eyes.
"Don't let me fall asleep in here."

"If you fall asleep I'll go over to your room to sleep."

One eye opens.  "Would you really?"

I pretend to consider it.  "No, I trust you."

The eye closes.  "Maybe you shouldn't."  It's just above a whisper.

My cock twitches with interest.  "Why?"  I choke out.

"Hmmmm?"

"Why shouldn't I trust you?"

My only answer is the soft soughing of her breathing.  For a few
minutes I watch the tv blankly, all too aware of Scully sleeping in
my room.  I hit the mute button so I can listen to her.

For a fleeting second I tell myself that she's really still awake,
that she's testing me to see what I'd do if she fell asleep in my
room. If we had rooms with a connecting door, maybe I could've
carried her in to her bed.  I smile at the thought of doing it
anyway, picturing someone coming down the hall as I step out of my
room with an unconscious woman in my arms.

Scully takes a deep breath, expelling it slowly and I sit up, my
eyes tracing the familiar lines of her face.

"Scully?" I whisper.

She slumbers on.

I stand up and go turn the tv off.  I pick up her two empty bottles
and my half-gone one and throw them in the garbage.  I put the
bottle of Bacardi back in the fridge.

Across the room I hear Scully shift so I turn to see if she's
waking up. She isn't.  She's turned onto her side, her back to me. 
I walk over to the bed, pulling the comforter across the bed to
cover her.

"Good night, Scully," I whisper, reaching out to tuck a strand of
hair behind her ear.

She shifts again, burrowing a little deeper into the pillow.  I
desperately want to kiss her, just once, on the lips but I don't
think it's fair to do it now.  I settle for the ridge of her
eyebrow, giving her a soft brush of my lips.

In the soft light from the bedside lamp with her face relaxed in
sleep, she looks even younger than that first day.  I stroke over
her cheek lightly with the back of my finger, my heart aching for
all that she's gone through in the intervening years.

"You don't look older to me, Scully." I tell her softly and she
stirs a little, her lips parting as if to speak before she sighs
and opens her eyes halfway.

"Mulder," her voice is scratchy and she blinks a few times.  "Were
you talking to me?"  Her head raises off the pillow a couple of
inches.

I smile at her.  "No.  Go back to sleep."

She turns over, moves to sit up and then hesitates.  I step back
and sit down on my bed, reaching for the light.  Her eyes track me
and I give her a slight nod.

See there, Scully.  It's all right. Stay here.  With me.

For a single wonderful, wordless moment Scully looks right at me,
into me, and I swear I can actually see her soul.  I've had
glimpses before but tonight her defenses are stripped away by sleep
and alcohol.

Then she closes her eyes and lies back down.  I shut off the light
before I have time to react to what I just saw.

Love.  Fear.  Indecision.

My God, I love her.  In so many ways, for so many reasons but until
just a few moments ago I never realized the depth of her feelings
in return.  There are many topics we never discuss, most of them
for good reason.  This is one.

And for a damn good reason.

Fear.

The same fear I just saw in her eyes.  It drives me too.

Fear of the unknown.  Scully scares me.  Never in my life have I
known anyone like her.  She is my savior, my sanity, my one true
friend.  I've given up so much in pursuit of the truth, I don't
want to risk losing her.  Our relationship is already so tangled,
there's no need to throw physical intimacy into the mix.

Until just now I never realized that I scare Scully.  I've always
assumed she put up with me out of a sense of duty, of loyalty and,
yes, even love.  But I never dared hope for more from her.  I never
dared hope she would want more from me.

I lie back on the bed, keeping my breathing deliberately even,
suddenly awkward in her presence.  Despite the fact that I drank
only half that bottle I feel drunk, the room seeming to wheel
around me in the darkness.

I can sense her wary and indecisive on the next bed.  I wonder why
she really came over here tonight.  Did she bring out the alcohol
to lower my defenses - or her own?

Just when I can no longer bear the silence, when I feel I have to
speak, she says my name softly.

"Mulder?"

"Yes?"

She shifts so that she is sitting.  My eyes have adjusted to the
dark and I can see her figure hunched over on the edge of the bed. 
I sit up and reach for the light.

"No, leave it off."  She clears her throat as I snatch my hand away
and sit back.  Waiting.

Scully takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.

"I'm not sure why I, I mean, I didn't come over here to, with this
in mind."

"Okay."  I say it softly, confining myself to those two syllables
since rational thought is leaving me.

Why are you here, Scully?

"It's just that when I saw that picture I started reflecting back.
It's not really that you look older to me Mulder, it's that I
*know* you now.  I have a hard time remembering when you weren't in
my life, who I was before I met you.  It's weird to look back and
see you as a stranger."

"You thought I was pretty strange, didn't you?"

"That hasn't changed."  Her tone is light and I snicker.  "No. What
I meant was..."  she pauses and I hear her swallow.  "I guess I
wasn't really asking if you thought I looked older.  I wanted to
know when things changed, when it happened for you."

"When what happened?"  My heart speeds up.  I'm pretty sure I know
where she's heading with this, I just can't believe she's really
going to do it.  I wish I could turn the light on but I don't want
her to stop.

"When you started trusting me.  When I stopped being a nuisance and
started being your partner.  Can you pinpoint it?"

"Can you?"

"I asked first."

I'm silent, considering.  When did I start to trust her?

"Do you remember when you forced Mossinger to have them release me
from Ellens Air Force Base?  It wasn't then, I was pretty out of
it.  But afterwards, on the plane home, when I realized what you
had done.  That you had put your ass on the line for me.  No one
had been willing to do that for me in a long time."

Even though I can't see it, I know she smiles.

"If I had known that was the first in a long line of Mulder
ditches, I might've asked to be reassigned."

"Really?"

"Sometimes it's best not to know what lies ahead, you know?  I was
so worried about you that time, but it was nothing compared to the
other times you've taken off on your own.  The longer we were
together, the more invested I felt in you, in our partnership."

"So what are the dividends, Scully, if you've been investing for
this long?"

"Dividends?"

"Sure.  What do you get out of this partnership besides
professional accolades and our daily dose of praise from Kersh?"

There's a long silence and I flush, glad now for the cover of
darkness.  That joke fell flat, tough room tonight.

"I get you, don't I?"  Scully's voice sounds choked.  My own throat
tightens and I blink back some tears that came from nowhere.

"Of course."  I can barely squeeze the words out.

Scully stands up and hesitates.

Don't leave.  Don'tleavedon'tleavedon'tleavedon'tleave.

I reach out and my hand brushes hers.  She turns her hand so her
fingers are holding mine and gives my hand a squeeze.

"You get me, Scully.  I don't know why you'd want me, but you do
get me."

I give her hand a small tug, pulling her towards me, my heart in
overdrive.  What if she doesn't mean this like I think she does? 
What if she's just talking friends and I'm talking forever?

But she sits down next to me, still holding my hand.  Her head
leans against my shoulder and she gives a soft sigh.  I put my arm
around her and we sit like that for a few minutes, my left arm
around her, my right hand holding hers, just getting used to being
this close.

I want to ask her when she first started trusting me.  I want to
ask her how much a part of her life she sees me in.  I want to ask
her if she'd believe me now if I said "I love you" or if she would
dismiss me a second time.

Her head feels heavier against my shoulder, she's falling asleep
again.  In my arms.  Scully is falling asleep and I'm holding her. 
I could sit here all night like this but I decided to play 'Press
Your Luck' instead.

"C'mere." I pull her back with me, onto the bed.

"Oh.  I should go."  But she doesn't move to leave, she stays next
to me.

"No.  Stay here."  I don't say the words "with me", "please" or "I
just want to hold you" but I know she hears them anyway.  She lays
against me, her head still on my shoulder.  The hand that was
holding mine is now resting on my chest, the weight of her against
me the single most arousing sensation I've felt in years.  I have
one arm around her and the other moves to stroke her hand
tentatively.

"Mulder?  Would you really have gone to my room to sleep?"  Her
voice is husky with sleep and I tighten my arms around her purely
as a reflex.

Does she want me to?

"No."

"You know when I woke up?  I thought you were leaving."

"I would never leave you Scully."

"Right." She's awake enough to inject some irony into the word.

"Not in the middle of the night." I amend.  "Not when you're
sleeping in my room."

"Then maybe I should start sleeping at your place.  Would you stop
haring off on your own then?"

Can she feel the way my heart rate just increased or is she sleepy
enough that she's not paying attention?  I think she notices
because her fingers curl a little, the slightest caress against my
chest.

"Don't tease, Scully.  It's not nice."

"Who says I'm teasing?"

I gulp and try to think nice thoughts.  Innocent thoughts. Friendly
partnerly thoughts.

"Do you think you'll ever kiss me Mulder?"

Oh my god.

"I'm trying to pick my moment." I tell her.

She smiles against my shoulder.

"Are you implying that this would be a good moment for you?" I ask
as my heart goes still, awaiting her reply.

She pushes against me for leverage, her breast brushing my arm and
I shiver.  Her hand cups my jaw, her thumb brushing the corner of
my mouth before she leans down and kisses me softly.

I can't move.  I can't do anything for the few fleeting seconds as
Scully and I kiss for the first time.  Then, before I can regain
control of my mutinous body, her lips are leaving mine.

No.  No, no, no.  I didn't get a chance to kiss you back.

My hand moves up to her head and I pull her mouth back to mine. She
kisses me again, her lips sliding across mine, inflaming me even
more.  My hand tangles in her hair and I hold her to me, unwilling
to let her go as my mouth opens in invitation under hers.

Scully's mouth opens too and I lay siege to it quickly, before she
can change her mind.  Her tongue strokes past mine, encouraging me
and I can't stop the groan.  It's sensory overload.  She tastes of
rum and toothpaste.  Her fingers have stroked back into my hair and
one of her legs slides over mine.  As she leans more heavily
against me I'm jolted into action, any closer and she's going to
know for sure how desperately I want her.  Without breaking the
kiss I roll her off me, so we're facing each other, buying a few
precious inches between us.

Scully pulls her head back, her breath hot against my cheek.

"Oh brother," she says and then kisses me again.

Oh brother?  I'm starting to think she doesn't mean that as
outright rejection as she kisses me deeply, taking a good inventory
on the orthodontics my parents spent thousands on.

To hell with restraint.  I may never get this chance again.  I want
to know, just once, how it would feel to have her beneath me.  If
I'm lucky, she'll arch up under me and give me a reason to throw
out half my video collection.  The other half I'll keep, naturally.
Some of those movies are classics.

I ease her onto her back as my tongue seeks out the soft velvet
recesses of her cheek.  I must be living right because she does
arch up against me, her hip trapping my cock in sweet pain between
us.

"God, Scully," I gasp, pulling away.  I'm torn between doing the
honorable thing by stopping this now or pleading with her to keep
going.  I settle for kissing her throat.  She tilts her head back,
her arms pulling me closer and I taste the skin behind her ear.

And she laughs at me.

"Mulder," she says, my name drawn out to three syllables because
she's giggling so it's more like "Mul-oh-der".

"Are you ticklish Scully?"

She tries to pull away but I've got her, dead to rights, trapped
beneath me.

"No.  Of course not."

"You are."  I nuzzle behind her ear again and she squirms.

"All these years Scully.  You might have told me and we could have
avoided this."

"Are you saying if I admit I'm ticklish you'll promise never to
tickle me?"

"I promise never to tickle you inadvertently.  But you'll have to
tell me where so I can avoid those spots."

She clears her throat.  "That's it.  Behind my ear."

"Liar.  Where else?"

Scully shifts again and I let out a small gasp when she rubs along
my erection.

"Ticklish Mulder?"

"More like itchy.  You wanna help me scratch it?"

She goes still beneath me.

"Oh God, this is it, isn't it?" her voice has suddenly become small
and uncertain.

I lean back, taking my weight off her.  "Not if you don't want it
to be."

"I hadn't thought this far ahead."

"You planned this?"  I can't believe it.  She thought of this?

"Well, not planned.  I just, I never meant to, I never..." she's
sputtering.

"Scully," I lay back, next to her, and find her hand.  My fingers
lace through hers and I give them a gentle squeeze.  "Could I just
hold you tonight?"

She's quiet, her hand dead weight in mine.  Or you could just
leave.  Or I could.  No sense in letting her room go to waste.
Maybe this was all a bad idea.  Or a bad dream.  Well, her bad
dream.  This is a pretty good dream for me, until just now.

Then she moves, and we're lying just like we were ten minutes ago,
with her head on my shoulder.  Only now she trembles a little when
I put my arms around her to hold her close.  Or maybe that was me
who shivered.  I rest my cheek on the top her head and she nestles
a little closer.

"Behind my knees." she murmurs.

"What?"

"I'm ticklish behind my knees, too.  For future reference."

"Are you planning ahead again Scully?"

"Maybe."

"Behind your knees.  I'll remember that."

After a few minutes her breathing evens out and she relaxes
completely against me.  It's going to take me a long time to fall
asleep tonight.  The weight of her against me, while still
arousing, is now comforting.  I don't want to fall asleep, really,
I want to live in this moment forever.

And, someday soon, I want to kiss her behind her knees.

***

The End


Feedback makes the best kind of Christmas present.  It's quick and
easy, it's inexpensive and it's just what I always wanted.