Date sent: Sun, 23 Nov 1997 03:30:08 -0500 (EST) From: RaValliano@aol.com Subject: new story Title: Three Months Author: Rachel Anton Rating: NC-17 for adult subject matter, language and sex Category: S, R, V Keywords: Mulder-angst, MSR, M/O Summary: A story about self-doubt and desperation Spoilers: Slight Redux 2 Disclaimer: Don't own em, don't sue me! Thanks. E-Mail: Did I mention I'd love feedback!!! My e-mail is RaValliano@aol.com Author's note: I'd like to give a special thanks to Karen and Amy who gave me the courage to post this strange little story. You ladies are the best! "Damn traffic!" Mulder pounded his fists on the steering wheel in frustration. It seemed as if he'd been on the same stretch of road for hours now. He wondered when, if ever this day of misery would finally end. *Three months* The thought popped, unwelcome, into his head again. *It's been three goddamn months*. Snow was beginning to fall only making the traffic problem worse. The winter was in full gear. It was February already. Almost Scully's birthday again. Three months had passed. Three months since Scully's cancer had miraculously and mysteriously gone into remission. And four months since Fox Mulder had made a promise to himself. A promise he'd been sure he would have the guts to keep. He had come so close today. So close his heart clenched when he thought of it now. They had been bickering, debating the scientific valididty of his latest pet project, and she'd leaned against the file cabinet. She'd shaken her head and looked at him in utter disbelief. She looked so strong, so vibrant, so brilliant, so Scully. Thinking about it now turned him on all over again. He'd experienced a moment of utter clarity. She was there. She was back. His rock, his Scully, completely herself again. He had seen her like a vision in that moment. A vision of perfection, everything he had ever wanted and needed in one beautiful package with a bright red bow on top. *HONK* Mulder was jerked back into the present by the blaring sounds coming from behind him. He looked ahead and realized he was about 100 feet behind the line of traffic. He accelerated a moment only to end up at a dead stop again. "Happy now asshole?" he growled at the businessman in the car to his rear. "Fucking people!" 6 o'clock and it was dark already. Mulder hated the winter. He hated the cold, hated the constant darkness, hated driving home from work in the snow. He'd left early today to avoid the incoming blizzard but it hadn't been soon enough. Scully had left hours before him. She was probably safe at home bundled in her comforter drinking hot chocolate or something. Mulder smiled at his little image and wished he were there to share her warmth. He'd come so close today. He'd stopped arguing with her and just stared, overcome by the feelings gripping him. She'd raised a quizzical eyebrow and asked him what he was gaping at. The words were there. He'd felt them building in his stomach, struggling their way up his body, pushing through the layers of self-hatred, guilt, fear. They'd pushed and prodded and almost made it through the final layer. Something had stopped them though. Something in him that wouldn't let go. There was a part of him that refused to take Dana Scully down from the pedestal he'd so carefully placed her on years ago. To bring her down to his level, to let her be a person who could love him, who he could touch the way he wanted too would ruin her. She would be equal to him thus utterly worthless. Mulder couldn't bear to do that to her. He refused to tarnish her, endanger her with his love. With words that he'd promised himself he'd say if she ever got better. Words which he was becoming certain would never work their way out of his mouth. Simple words really. So he'd told himself when he'd made the promise. Probably nothing she doesn't already know, he'd reasoned. He knew his actions reflected his feelings. There was nothing ambiguous in the way he'd fought for her life with every fiber of his being. Nothing to be misconstrued in the way he'd looked at her, the way he'd held her when they thought the end was near. No mystery in the utter joy on his face and endless embrace they'd shared when she told him her disease had gone into remission. She had to know. So why was it so hard to say the words? Because then, he knew, he'd have to deal with the probability of her saying them back to him. He'd have to handle a situation in which she might actually be deluded enough to want him as much as he wanted her. She might actually think he deserved her and tempt him into her arms. God knew it wouldn't take much. And then he'd have to explain to her why he could never make her happy. How making love to him could only bring her excessive pain and suffering in the long run. How he ultimately destroyed everything he loved, ruined everyone that loved him back, and then he'd have to lose her. Not just as a potential lover but also as his partner, his friend, his only real family, his entire life. After he'd chickened out the snow had started to fall. Scully had regarded him peculiarly and shelved the case until tomorrow. Then she'd left. He hadn't even been able to walk her out because he'd been sporting an embarrassingly noticeable hard-on. He'd hidden under the desk until she was gone. Amazing how a simple look from her reduced him to a pathetically horny adolescent. It left him in awe of her and utter disgust of himself. His perverted desires were one thing when dealt with in the privacy of his own home but subjecting Scully to them, the though made him sick to his stomach. Unfortunately since the whole surveillace thing had happened in his apartment Mulder felt a little weird about letting off steam there. Especially since most of his sessions ended with him crying his partner's name. He never knew who might be watching. He'd been strangely paranoid about it for awhile and hadn't masturbated in quite a long time. The result was even more frustration than usual and the damn thing kept popping up at inopportune moments. *BEEP* Like now for instance. Mulder grumbled angrily and exited the highway. He knew a shortcut to his apartment. It was through a bad neighborhood but it made little difference to him. The prospect of getting carjacked was more appealing at the moment than sitting in the gridlock any longer. He needed to get home and soon. Fuck whoever might be watching. Mulder was ready to jerk-off in the lobby of the J. Edgar Hoover building. He just hoped his fantasies weren't too sick. Sometimes he was embarassed to look Scully in the face in the morning after the way he thought about her at night. XXX Chrystal was cold. And angry. Her skirt was too short for the temperature and her vinyl boots weren't doing much to protect her feet. It was a horrendous night and as she paced the sidewalk and watched the hours pass by she wondered what the hell she was doing out here. The streets were deserted. She was never going to get any business on a night like this. But dammit she needed the money. If someone didn't come along soon, she didn't know what she'd do. She pulled her light cotton jacket tighter around her small frame. At 5'2 and 110 pounds she didn't have much natural insulation from the cold. *Damn that kevin* she thought, not for the first time tonight. He'd promised her a full lineup for the night. No street work he'd said. I've got it all set up he'd told her. Then the new girl had come along and stolen Chrystal's easy night. Now little miss perfect was being chauffered from hotel to hotel while Chrystal froze her ass off and cursed the day she'd come to DC. She checked her reflection absently in the liquor store window. At Kevin's suggestion she'd recently died her bob a vibrant shade of red. It matched her pale complexion well and was more of an attention getter than her natural dishwater blonde shade. She brushed it behind her ears and sighed. It didn't much matter how she looked tonight. Noone was around to notice. She turned from the window in time to see a black car race past. Tinted windows. She couldn't see inside. It was going too fast for this weather. Chrystal wondered if the driver had a deathwish or was just stupid. She jumped when she heard screeching tires. The car had stopped short about a half-mile past her and soon began heading backwards in her direction. Chrystal was a little frightened but more than that she was hopeful. Could be a potential customer. The car pulled up next to her and stopped. The passenger side window rolled down and a man's voice called to her "Need a ride?" She walked a little closer to the car and peered inside. Hello. He was actually cute! Maybe this night wouldn't be such a disaster after all. "It'll cost you." She said in what she hoped was a coy, suggestive tone. He stared at her with an intensity Chrystal had never experienced before. He looked like a lunatic. Maybe this wasn't such a great idea. "I realize that. Get in." His voice was firm but not really forceful. Chrystal sensed that he woudn't hurt her. He was probably nuts but not dangerous. She had learned because of her profession to make snap judgments of people. How safe they were, if they would turn violent on her. She had to know for her own safety and she considered herself a pretty good judge of character. She got in the car. The man rolled up her window and started driving. She took a good look at him and realized just how attractive he actually was. he had a good body and a beautiful face. Incredible lips, soulful eyes. He was clean and well dressed. He smelled good. His car was nice and probably cost an arm and a leg. Chrystal couldn't for the life of her figure out why he would require her services. Maybe it was his personality. He was silent as they drove through her neighborhood and he kept steeling looks at her, shaking his head and sighing. He was making her uncomfortable. Maybe he did that to all women and that was why he needed her. After about 5 minutes of odd looks and complete silence Chrystal finally blurted out "What are you gaping at?" This had a completely unexpected effect on the man. He started laughing. It was a strange laugh. Not one of mirth but of disbelief and...something else, maybe bitterness. "Unbe-fucking-lievable. How old are you?" Chrystal tensed at the question. The last person to ask her that had turned out to be an undercover cop. He'd said he wanted to help her. The 2 days she'd spent in jail hadn't been of much assistance to her. Maybe that was this guy's story. Another frigging undercover cop. That wasn't her general impression though. "How old do you want me to be?" she asked looking at him with a slightly arched eyebrow. "Christ." He shook his head and looked back at the road. "Thirty-five." "Huh?" Chrystal hadn't expected an answer to that question. She'd asked it to avoid answering his. "You're thirty-five. Your birthday's next week." Whoa. This was getting really weird. Even for Chrystal who'd certainly dealt with her share of weirdos. "Um OK. Sure it is mister." She wasn't gonna be the one to tell him she'd just turned 18 last month. Maybe he needed to feel like he was dealing with someone his own age. Maybe knowing how young she was would make him feel like a dirty old man. Who knew his reaons. And who cared really as long as he paid her. "So where are we goin'?" she asked. "My apartment." "No I don't do that. it's gotta be a hotel." Chrystal wasn't an idiot. Going to the guy's apartment was just asking for trouble. The man nodded seeming to understand immediately. "Safer for you that way I guess." She sighed, relieved. "So I guess you should be telling me where we're going then." "Turn left at the next light and go down about three blocks. There's a place I go to a lot." The man did as she told him and soon they were at the Goodnight Motel. He told her to wait in the car while he got a room. Alone in his car Chrystal looked curiously at her surroundings. Cell phone in the glove box, fast food wrappers on the floor beneath her feet, a gym bag in the backseat. Seemed normal enough. Probably just a bored businessman or something. Probably had a wife and kids waiting at home for him. That didn't seem right either though. What was his story? For some reason Chrystal was starting to really want to know. He came back to the car with a set of keys. "I got it for the whole night. I hope that's OK." Nope definately not married. "That'll cost you extra." He shrugged seeming not to care. He didn't seem to care about money at all. He hadn't asked about her rates even once. That was usually the first question. They went to the room and the man sat down in the only chair available. He crossed his hands over his chest and stared openly at Chrystal who was standing near the bed waiting for him to join her. "So um...what do you want me to do?" He seemed to be waiting for something. Maybe for her to start. "Don't say anything else. You voice is wrong. And take off those ridiculous clothes." Her voice? Chrystal had never had any complaints about it before but whatever. She didn't have to talk. Take off the clothes. At least that part made sense. She began to unbutton her blouse in a slow seductive striptease. "Don't bother with that. Just get them off. Leave on your underwear though. If you've got any that is." Chrystal did as asked removing blouse, jacket and skirt. She was left standing in a matching black bra and panties, garter stockings and her thighhigh vinyl boots. The man shook his head still not pleased. "No stockings. And definately not those boots. Jesus Christ." Strange. The boots were usually a big favorite. Lots of guys wanted her to keep them on while they did it. She shrugged and pulled off boots and stockings. He looked vaguely satisfied but still made no move for her. "What now?" she asked. "What's your name?" "What's yours?" "Mine doesn't matter. What's yours?" "Chrystal." The man scowled and shook his head. "Not anymore. Tonight it's Scully. Now keep your mouth shut and get over here." She moved slowly towards him wondering who or what Scully was. She stood in front of him and he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist and buried his head in her stomach. She was startled by the affectionate gesture and returned it by lightly stroking his hair. He began placing featherlight kisses across her middle and she found herself suprisingly turned on a little. He pulled her closer to him and whispered to her "Sit on my lap". She did and he cradled her small body in his arms. He kissed her neck and stroked her thighs. She moved her bottom against him and felt the hardness of his body pressing into her. His lips trailed up her ears sucking and biting, growing more insistant. He made a move to kiss her lips but she held up her hand and shook her head. The man nodded. "Right I've seen Pretty Woman." Chrystal hadn't and wonderd what the hell he was talking about. He stood, lifting her with him and carried her to tthe bed. He placed her down and lay beside her. "Take off my clothes." She straddled him and pulled off his jacket tossing it to the floor. Looking down at him she noticed something she'd missed. A holster...a gun! Startled and frightened she jumped off him. "What?" he asked confused. Then he looked down and realized. He removed the holster and gun and placed them on the bedside table. "Relax, I'm an FBI agent." That did not make Chrystal feel even the slightest bit better. An FBI agent??? What the hell had she gotten herself into? Was this some kind of sting operation or something? Jesus Christ! "Calm down. I'm not going to arrest you. I'd have to arrest myself too and I don't feel like spending the night in jail." She searched his face for a sign that he was lying. He seemed sincere. Besides, if he was going to arrest her it probably would have happened already. She climbed back on him and began unbuttoning his shirt. She pulled it from his body and sucked lightly on one of his nipples. He moaned and she increased the pressure. Her hands drifted down and unbuckled his belt. He kicked off his shoes and socks and she pulled his pants off. He lay under her in gray boxers, his erection pressing hotly against her panty covered center and she realized she was indeed very aroused. How had that happened? He flipped her onto her back and lay on top of her, grinding his hips into her. she bit back a moan knowing he didn't want to hear her voice. He kissed and licked his way down her neck and chest, stopping to remove her bra and caress her breasts with his tongue. He looped his fingers under her panties and pulled them off. She wondered how long it would be now before he was inside her. Probably a matter of seconds. She reached for the jacket next to her and pulled a condom out of the pocket. She handed it to him and he put it next to the bed. "Later." he said. Later? Did later mean never? If he refused to wear one she was going to have to stop his. Then she felt his mouth on her and realized what he was talking about. He was going to go down on her first. "You don't need to do that." she told him in as quiet a voice as possible. She was starting to get worried. She didn't want to come. Not with a customer. He lifted his head from her. "I told you not to say anything. And I do need to. It's an important part of it." His tongue darted out and stroked her clit and she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out. He was good at it. Dammit. She tried to think of something else. Anything to keep from feeling what he was doing to her. She thought of the fat slob she'd been with the night before. She thought of seeing her best friend bleeding to death on the street last year. She thought of her mother hitting her with a frying pan. She thought of the most unpleasant things her mind could conjure up and managed to avoid a real orgasm. After an acceptable amount of time she faked one, bucking against him and trembling convincingly. He positioned himself over her and reached for the condom. "I know that was fake but thanks for humoring me." he told her as he slipped the rubber over what Chrystal realized was an enormous cock. She tried not to stare at it but it was truly one of the biggest she'd ever seen. She wondered again why in the world this guy was having trouble getting laid. He slipped inside her with a sigh and rested his head against her shoulder. He thrust into her slowly and kissed her neck tenderly. She felt something wet trail down her ear and realized with alarm, this man was crying. She didn't know what to do about it. She'd never been in a situation like this before. "I love you Scully" he whispered reverently in her ear. This was weird. This was too weird. It was starting to give Chrystal the creeps. She was beginning to think she'd have been better off with some sleazy lout who wanted her to spank him and put him in diapers that with this guy. But she was getting paid. That was the botom line. And that's what she tried to focus on as he increased his pace and began moaning against her neck. "I love you so much." Oh God. Was she supposed to tell her she loved him too? Or that Scully loved him? This was not something she was prepared for. He was still crying and moaning and slamming into her harder and harder. Maybe he needed comfort. She ran her hands gently over his back and through his hair trying to calm him down. He lifted his head and tried to kiss her again. She turned her face away and he cried even harder. She felt bad. She wanted to kiss him. Which was all the more reason not to. This strange sad man was breaking her heart. A heart she wasn't supposed to have. "God Scully I need you. I'd die without you." No one had ever said words like that to Chrystal before. Of course he wasn't really saying them to her. He was saying them to Scully, whoever and wherever he or she was. He raised up to his knees and lifted her backside with him. His thrusts were becoming almost painful but still felt good to Chrystal. She looked up into his tear streaked face twisted into a grimace of physical pleasure and emotional pain and she wanted to cry herself. She could tell he was close but was wating for her. Fear gripped her as she felt another orgasm building. She decided to end it before it went to far. She tightened her vaginal muscles around him and cried out. He thrust into her 3 quick times calling out despereatly to his "ScullyScullyScully" and collapsed on top of her. After a few moments he he moved off her and rolled onto his back. Chrystal was now starting to really worry. He'd gotten the room for the whole night. How many more times would he want to do that? She didn't think she could deal with even once more. She sat up and turned to him. "Look I know I said I'd stay the whole night but I just remembered I have another appointment I kinda have to get to." she stammered looking for an excuse to get the hell out of there. He nodded blankly. "I kinda figured you'd say that." She stood and started to gather her clothing and get dressed feeling sadder and more lonely than she'd felt in a long time. The man just lay in bed staring at the ceiling. She almost felt guilty having to bring it up but there was still an important matter to be dealt with. "Um mister..about my um..." "Get my wallet out of my jacket pocket. Take all the cash that's there OK." Chrystal retrieved the wallet and eyed the wad of money it held. "Are you sure? This is much more than..." "Just take it. Don't worry about it." She wasn't about to argue. With this stash she could actually call a cab and go home tonight. She wouldn't have to work tomorrow either. Probably not even the day after that. She stuffed the cash into her pocket and was about to give him his wallet when she noticed something, A photograph. It was the only one in the group of clear plastic inserts. It was a woman. A woman with red hair and blue eyes. A woman that looked, Chrystal realized, almost exactly like her. Or at least what she would probably look like in about 10 years if she kept dying her hair. Except that this woman had a seriousness about her. A depth and intelligence Chrystal could never imagine herself possesing. She held the picture up. "My God this is her isn't it?" The man nodded once and looked away sadly. She couldn't help but think *I wish it was me.* She wondered if this woman had any idea how the man before her felt. What had happened between them that caused him to go to Chrystal instead of her? Had she hurt him? Had he hurt her? Was she dead? She decided to take a risk and give him what instinct told her was some much needed advice. "You should tell her. She probably wouldn't make you pay." He winced and she immediately regretted her words. "What are you the hooker-shrink? Just get lost OK?" Chrystal shrugged. What did she care if this guy was ever happy. She'd gotten her money right? Still as she wandered out into the biting cold and falling snow she couldn't help but feel sorry for the man she was leaving behind. XXX Mulder was alone. The girl had finally left and he was alone in a sleazy motel in a sleazy neighborhood, all his cash gone. How had he ended up here? How had he managed to turn a pretty bad day into one of the worst of his entire life? What had he been thinking? Had he honestly though sleeping with that girl, that child, that prostitute would make him feel better? Had he expected to get satisfaction from acting out his fantasies on a little girl? Jesus fucking Christ was he fucked up. What the hell was wrong with him. The worst thing was that she'd felt sorry for him. He'd read the pity in her eyes. That poor lost pathetic girl, so obviously in need of help herself had pitied him. She'd even tried to give him advice. Bill Scully's words came back to him. Sorry son of a bitch. If he only knew. A ringing sound from his jacket pocket interrupted his musings. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and flipped it open. "Mulder." "Mulder, it's me." Shit. Fuck. "Hey Scully. What's up?" "Mulder I just tried to call your apartment and there was no answer. You're not still driving home are you?" She sounded worried about him. She was worried. Christ. "No I'm home Scully. I um.. I unplugged the phone. I wanted to get some sleep." "Oh, I'm sorry. Did I wake you?" "No, no. I don't mind hearing from you Scully. I just didn't want to deal with anyone else." "OK well, I'll let you go then. I'll see you tomorrow. If we're not all snowed in by then that is." No Scully. Don't go. Don't leave me here. Please. "Um yeah. See you tomorrow." *Click* she was gone. He was alone again. Alone with the memory of what he'd done permanantly etched in his brain. The sins he'd committed gainst Scully's trust, her honor. The way he'd defiled her, violated her. The way he'd used that poor young girl. He knew now that there was no way he could keep his promise. No way he could expose her to his sickness. Certainly no way he could ever dream of being worthy of her. Filled with a nauseating amount of self-loathing he dragged himself to the bathroom and emptied the contents of his stomach into the toilet. Three months and counting. So, what did you think? Like it? Hate it? Please let me know! It's my first. RaValliano@aol.com