From: "Susanne Barringer" Date: Fri, 25 Sep 1998 20:09:05 -0400 Subject: Voices in the Mind (1/1) by S. Barringer **NC-17** TITLE: Voices in the Mind (1/1) AUTHOR: Susanne Barringer EMAIL: sbarringer@usa.net ARCHIVE: Already sent to Gossamer. Anywhere else okay with these headers attached. CLASSIFICATION: SRH KEYWORDS: MSR RATING: NC-17 for sexual language SPOILERS: small ones for Fight the Future SUMMARY: Mulder seeks help for the voices in his head. DISCLAIMER: These characters belong to Chris Carter, 1013, and Fox. No money is being made off my use of them; no infringement intended. It is SO much fun to mess with Mulder's head! *********** Voices in the Mind by Susanne Barringer The voice zoomed across the office, cutting through the tortuous intensity of endless paperwork. Mulder jabbed the point of his pen into his hand, hard, to remind himself of reality. "What?" Just in case Scully had actually said what Mulder was sure he'd just heard her say even though he knew she didn't, he looked up at her and into her eyes. Her face was serious, business-like, normal. Definitely not the face of a woman who had just said those magic words. Mulder stabbed his pen into his hand again. "I said, I want to leave by six." It was his imagination at it again. Mulder was sick of his imagination and its evil tricks. This had been happening for weeks now. He was going crazy. He'd been hearing things. Things Scully would definitely not be saying. Things he'd sell his soul to hear her say. In comparison with the other proposals he'd heard her utter recently in his warped hallucinatory state of being, this one was mild. Maybe it was time to see a therapist. A good one. An occasional misunderstood statement--okay. But this continual voice in his head, Scully's voice, telling him things she wanted him to do to her or, on a good day, things she wanted to do to him, was really far beyond normal. Mulder was well aware of that. He just wasn't sure what to do about it. It was one thing to fantasize about Scully saying sexual things to him. It was quite another to actually hear them plain as day. "Mulder?" Scully's voice, normal this time, snapped Mulder out of his thoughts. "What?" "Did you hear what I said? I intend to get out of here by six o'clock. That means if you don't quit daydreaming over there, you'll be here all night finishing up." You have no idea, Mulder thought. "Yeah, okay Scully. Sorry. I'm just not with it today." "Mulder, you haven't been 'with it' for days now. What's going on? Are you okay?" "I'm fine." Scully simply nodded and went back to her paperwork. She was right. He needed to concentrate and get this stuff done so that they could both go home. It was Friday, and Mulder could really use a relaxing weekend away from Scully to try and get his head straight. He put in a good five minutes of serious work. Then: "GODDAMN IT!" Mulder jumped out of his chair and threw the papers he was working on across the room. It took a second before he realized he had yelled it out loud. "Mulder, what the hell is wrong with you? All I said was 'thank you' to let you know I appreciated you getting back to work. You didn't have to yell at me. What the hell is your problem?" Scully was pissed, and rightly so. The problem was, Mulder couldn't explain himself. What could he say? "I'm sorry, Scully. Really. I just need to get out of here. Can't we just finish this up on Monday? I need some air." He headed for the door feeling like he was going to be sick. "Sure, Mulder." Scully's face registered true concern and Mulder felt bad for leaving her so suddenly, but he really was beginning to doubt his sanity. There was no logical reason for Scully's voice inside his head. No logical reason at all. *********** Mulder found himself in the living room of Martha Michaels, a psychologist and an old friend of his. Actually, old friend was stretching it a bit. They had been classmates at Oxford and members of the same research group, but not much more than that. After driving all over the DC area trying to get himself sane as Scully's voice taunted him with promises the real Scully would never keep, he had called Martha in a fit of desperation. He needed help and he needed it immediately. Finding a therapist at 4:30 on a Friday afternoon was more or less impossible and no way would he ever see one of the Bureau counselors about THIS problem. He came across Martha's number in his address book, although they hadn't been in contact much in the last few years beyond annual Christmas cards. She lived in DC and she was home when he called. In Mulder's mind, that made her qualified. There in Martha's living room, Mulder spilled his guts about Scully for the first time ever to anyone. He told her the whole story, about the voices in his head, about all he and Scully had been through, about how his heart had shattered when he thought she was leaving the X-Files, and how they had come millimeters away from sharing a kiss. Martha listened intently, asked a few questions, but mostly let Mulder release all the emotion and pent-up feelings that had brought him to this point of seeking help. Finally, Mulder stopped, surprised at how easily he had opened up to this woman he hadn't seen in years. At that moment he realized how much he had truly needed to talk about it with someone. Martha played friend more than therapist which allowed Mulder to be more honest than he might have been under other circumstances. He didn't really have any friends besides Scully. "So, you don't think Scully has been sending you messages?" Martha asked. "No, I don't. Scully is a professional, always. She would never resort to flirting or playing games." "That's not what I meant. Don't you think that you might be unconsciously picking up on signals she's sending you, perhaps also unconsciously, and then processing them in a way that your conscious mind can understand?" Logical, Mulder thought, but not likely in this case. "Really, I think if Scully were sending me messages, even sexual signals, they wouldn't quite be *those* kind of messages." "Perhaps you underestimate your partner," Martha challenged. "I would never underestimate Scully." "What I mean is, maybe you underestimate her sexuality, her sexual needs." "She's my partner for God's sake! I can't think about her sexual needs!" Mulder realized that sounded rather ridiculous, but he knew Martha would get the point. "Yes, but she's also a woman. A woman who, I'm sure, is very sexual, full of desires and needs." "I think I'm better off not thinking about her that way," Mulder grumbled. "Are you advocating that I get physically involved with my partner?" "No, not at all," explained Martha. "I'm advocating that you quit denying your attraction to her, the sexual tension between you, the fact that you do perceive of her in a sexual way despite your assertions to the contrary." Mulder glared at Martha. "This is not healthy, Martha. This is not good at all." "You're mistaken, Mulder. This is the healthiest thing you can do. You've got to quit repressing all your feelings and desires. It's going to drive you insane. It's going to kill you." "Yeah, but Scully would kill me faster if she knew I thought of her that way." "You're underestimating her again, Mulder. Give her a chance. It's quite possible that these messages you're receiving from her are real, are her real thoughts, even if you assume she would never think of you quite so explicitly or be quite so forward. You're definitely picking up something from her. I don't believe for a minute this is entirely your imagination." "Well, thanks. I appreciate that. Although I'm not sure that's better or worse than this being entirely my own self-delusion." "Better," replied Martha, "and a lot less lonely." Mulder smiled. Here, in this context, Martha's words seemed reassuring and oh so simple. But in reality, bringing up this issue with Scully, broaching the subject--well, that thought was mind-blowing. It wouldn't be easy, Mulder knew, but it might come down to either that or his sanity. Would Scully understand that? Would she understand that he would only do it because he had no other recourse? Only when his feelings for her threatened to destroy him from the inside out? "She'll understand," assured Martha as if she had read his mind. "If all you've told me about her is true, I have no doubt that she will understand more than you think." ************** Instead of going home, Mulder stopped at Scully's. He knew she was worried about him, and he wanted to make sure she knew he was okay. He also knew that Martha was right, that the only way the voice in his head would go away was if he faced up to the fact that he and Scully had things to talk about. Martha had given him hope to grasp onto. To wait any longer would lessen his grip on that hope, and on his sanity. Scully answered the door with a concerned look. "Mulder, what's wrong?" "Hi, Scully. I need to talk to you." Scully motioned him in and Mulder headed immediately to her sofa. He knew any hesitation on his part would allow him too much time to think. Scully sat next to him and looked worried, panicked almost. Mulder felt like he ought to set her mind at ease, but that would be misleading. This was going to upset her, no two ways about it. "Mulder, would you please tell me what's going on? I've been so worried about you. You haven't been yourself lately. I want to know what's wrong." Half relieved at her interest and half terrified, Mulder replied, "That's why I'm here Scully. I've been having some, well, problems. This afternoon, I went to see a friend of mine, a psychologist. Martha helped me straighten out my head, but she made me see that I need to tell you what's going on, even though I don't want to." Mulder wasn't sure he was making sense, but he was doing the best that he could. This wasn't going to be easy. "You can tell me anything, Mulder. You know that. Don't you?" "I do, Scully, but this is different. Please remember that I'm only telling you because I have to. I'm losing my mind." Scully took Mulder's hand to reassure him, but it didn't help much. His nerves were strung taut and his mind was flying over the possible ways to approach this. Or to get out of it. Having come this far, however, Mulder decided he couldn't afford to quit. His sanity might depend on it. "I've been hearing voices," Mulder finally announced sheepishly. "Again?" Mulder looked up to see Scully smiling. "I'm sorry, Mulder. Go on." "This voice has been telling me things, things that I know aren't true or real, but I can't seem to shake it." "What kinds of things?" "Things. About you." "I'm not sure what you mean, Mulder." Mulder took a deep breath. "This voice, in my head, tells me that, uh, well, that you, uh, that you want to, um . . . be with me." Scully quirked a questioning eyebrow. Mulder decided to spit it out. "That you want to make love with me." Scully's mouth dropped open and her face turned bright red. Mulder wasn't sure what to do so he just sat there. Scully's mouth opened and closed a few times, like her brain wasn't quite connected to it. Finally, she found something to say. "What voice told you this?" Mulder figured there wasn't much else to lose. "Yours." Scully's mouth hung open again and, even though Mulder didn't think it possible, her face became redder. "I know it's nuts, Scully, and it's even crazier for me to tell you, but I feel like if I don't that I'm going to go seriously insane. I mean, this voice just comes to me across the office or in the car or in the lab or wherever and it says these things, things that are really, well, sexy, and I thought I was totally nuts but then Martha told me that maybe it wasn't all in my imagination and that there was probably a reason these voices were coming to me now and not before, and that I wouldn't be able to get rid of them until I had faced what was really going on and, unfortunately, that includes you so I have to face that too so that we, you and I, together, can maybe figure out exactly what's happening between us so I can stop these damn voices from ruining everything between us and we can find some semblance of normalcy again." Mulder had a feeling he was going on a bit much, but suddenly he felt incredibly nervous. Scully was just looking at him, and that was exactly what made him so incredibly nervous. She didn't say anything. Feeling like the silence between them was the equivalent of a death knell, Mulder felt the urge to fill it. "I'm really sorry, Scully, I mean really, and I would never have said anything if it wasn't absolutely necessary but I felt like if I didn't I would end up ruining ev--" "Mulder!" Scully cut him off. Mulder wasn't sure if that was good or bad. "Just be quiet for a second." Mulder did as told. Scully paused, then continued. "What does my voice say to you, exactly?" "You know. Things." "What kind of things?" "Geez, Scully, please don't make me tell you. They're just things I see no need to repeat. Trust me." "Tell me, Mulder. You started this, now finish it." Mulder stared at her. She really had no idea what she was asking. But he could tell by the look on her face she wouldn't settle for anything but the truth. "It says things. Sort of sexual things." "Like what, Mulder?" Mulder wondered where the hell the ringing phone or knock at the door were when you really needed them. He looked away, out the window, at the wall, anywhere but at Scully who, he could feel quite clearly, continued to look at him as he spoke. "It says things like I want to, um, fuck you and I want to, uh, well, you know," Mulder cleared his throat several times, "uh, do certain sexual things. Specific sexual things. Stuff like that. But more, um, explicit I guess." Mulder's voice cracked toward the end, his nerves finally getting the best of him. This was worse than any nightmare. He still didn't look at Scully. He was pretty sure she'd still be blushing. He certainly was. He was also thinking that maybe his insanity would have been the better route to have taken here. "And what makes you think the voice is mistaken?" Well, that was certainly not something Mulder had thought about. His head snapped back to look at Scully. Her gaze was steady and he knew she had not once looked away from him. She wasn't uncomfortable, angry or shocked. She seemed, in fact, remarkably calm about the whole thing. "Uh, I don't know. It's a voice inside my head. How could it be real?" "It doesn't have to be real to be right." Mulder wasn't sure what to do with that. "What are you saying, Scully?" "I'm saying that the voice you hear may not necessarily be wrong about . . . things." "But it may not necessarily be right either?" Mulder felt like they were talking in circles and that was not helping this incredibly uncomfortable situation. Scully stopped the circling, brought it to a screeching halt in fact. "I do want to make love to you, Mulder." Mulder's heart stood still. Did Scully say that? Or was it Scully's voice that said that? He really had no idea, so he asked his usual question. "What?" "You heard me, Mulder. I said, I want to make love with you. That was me talking. Me. Not the voice in your head, not the voice in my head. I, Dana Katherine Scully, want to fuck you like there's no tomorrow." Mulder's heart hit the ceiling, along with his cock which grew so hard so fast that he swooned and nearly fell off the couch. This was unreal. This was insane! This was way more insane than the voices in his head. "Oh," said Mulder finally, not able to come up with anything more appropriate. Scully looked at him. Mulder felt truly at a loss as to what to do. He had been so worried about the voices that he hadn't much thought about what he'd do if the voice ever became real. "Now, Mulder. Before I take it back." Mulder didn't need to be told again. *********** Perhaps Martha was right and Mulder had, after all, underestimated Scully. She certainly didn't hold back in any way, and Mulder was quite impressed, in fact, with what essentially amounted to her total and complete sexual domination of him. Mulder wondered why he hadn't noticed this side of Scully before. The side that shoved him up against the wall so hard it knocked the wind out of him. The side that ripped off his shirt so forcefully buttons flew clear across the room. The side that pushed him to his knees to give her what she most wanted and needed. All the things he had heard Scully say to him in his head were now said to him from Scully's own lips. And more. He had no idea Scully could talk that way, not that he minded in the least. She begged him and screamed the words loud enough to wake the whole neighborhood. And, in the end, she went after him in a frenzy, not letting him catch his breath until she had completely and utterly exhausted herself. And him. Yes, he had definitely underestimated her. This was not at all what he expected of making love with Scully. He had always imagined it, at least when he allowed himself to, as something sort of idyllic, pure, romantic, something that transcended everything else in their world. What he had not envisioned was Scully on top of him, riding him hard and deep on the living room floor, screaming his name at the top of her lungs and demanding things of him that drove him absolutely insane with desire. And, he had definitely not imagined that she would really say the things her voice in his head had said, begging him to make her come over and over again, telling him how much she loved him inside of her, pleading to have him in her mouth, and pretty much everything else imaginable. It was, quite literally, like something out of one of his porn movies. Fiction turned to life. In a big way. Really, it was all rather overwhelming and unreal, and much, much better than the voices in his head. Scully unleashed was certainly a sight to behold. He had had no idea. Afterward, Scully had immediately fallen asleep, from sheer exhaustion he guessed. Since he couldn't move due to the fact that every muscle in his body pounded and he had at least a dozen new bruises, the two of them just lay there on the living room floor amidst the scattered shreds of their clothing and the pieces of the coffee table which had broken when Scully shoved him onto it in order to get better access to him. Not even that had stopped her. The woman was insatiable to say the least. It would take him the whole weekend just to recover. He watched her sleep, the deep rising and falling of her chest signaling him that she would not awaken for a good long time. Asleep she was so peaceful, serene, calm, normal, not the woman who had just fucked him within an inch of his life. The transformation was unbelievable. Mulder finally drifted off to a light sleep, awakening when Scully shifted in his arms. He was aware of her sitting up. "Mulder?" He opened his eyes to see her leaning over him, her hair falling in a cascade around her face. "Yeah?" "Are you okay, Mulder?" Mulder laughed even though it made his ribs hurt. Actually, it made his whole body hurt. "I hurt all over, Scully, but I'm fine. More than fine. You?" "I'm fine, Mulder. I just thought maybe I went a little overboard." "A little?" He grinned at her so she would know he wasn't serious, and he was surprised to see her blush. It seemed such a contradiction to the aggressive, sexual beast that had attacked him just hours earlier. "Sorry about that. I just really wanted you. It's been building a long time, hasn't it?" "Yeah, you could say that. Don't apologize, Scully. It was fabulous. You were just so . . . not what I expected." Scully threw back her head and laughed. "Are you always like that?" Mulder asked. Scully looked down at him and smiled sincerely, and he saw so much in it. "With you, I think I will be." Mulder felt his breath rush out of him. "Oh God. You'll kill me." Scully reached down and stroked his cheek affectionately. "You'll get used to it," she teased and Mulder thought nothing in the world compared to Scully's real voice saying things to him, anything. "God, Scully, you're one hell of a woman." "Believe it or not Mulder, that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me." She kissed him lightly on the lips which, not surprisingly, hurt as much as the rest of his body. "Come to bed, Mulder. You need a good night's sleep." Mulder sat and up and let Scully pull him to his feet. "I thought maybe you'd woken me for more," he cracked. "Later," she said, taking his hand and leading him to the bedroom. "Sleep now. I want you rested!" Mulder laughed and pulled Scully onto the bed with him, curling up next to her and wrapping his arms around her. "Thank God you hear voices, Mulder," she murmured as she drifted off to sleep. Yes, he thought, for once in his life, the voices were right. END _____________ Feedback? sbarringer@usa.net All of my fanfic can be found on my webpage: http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Dreamworld/2442