TITLE: More than a Lifetime AUTHOR: Moon EMAIL: MdmSpooky@aol.com CATEGORY: S, R KEYWORDS: MSR RATING: R, for description of sexual contact SPOILERS: None DISTRIBUTION: Do not forward to ATXC or Gossamer, I'll do that myself. Anywhere else is fine, but please let me know where it's going! DISCLAIMER: Mulder and Scully are, unfortunately, not mine. They belong to the great and powerful Chris Carter, his almighty production company, 1013, and FOX. The lyrics, which are the inspiration for this story, are also not mine...they are the property of Pink Floyd. No infringement is intended. FEEDBACK: Yes, please! Praise is happily accepted at MdmSpooky@aol.com, criticism is....considered. SUMMARY: No plot, no X-File, no point.....just sex. More Than a Lifetime, by Moon I am running. My legs and arms pump furiously, my heart bounces with every jolting step and lodges in my throat, choking me. A quick glance over my shoulder reveals nothing of the unseen monster pursuing me, but I have the distinct sense that it is gaining. Looking back again, I become disoriented and begin to spin out of control. I fall---down, down, for what seems like hours. I cry as I am falling, sure that death awaits me at the bottom of....what? I have forgotten how I got myself into this predicament; did I stumble into a well? Slip off the edge of some unfathomably deep chasm? I almost laugh when I realize that I am hurlting to my demise and all the while my brain is working---analyzing, trying to figure out how and why, even when the reasons no longer matter. I do not feel my body hit, but I am suddenly aware of something soft beneath me. I struggle to sit up, and the something groans. "Oof! Scully, get off of me!" It is Mulder. "Mulder, why am I on top of you?" I ask incredulously. "Hell if I know! You must have been sleepwalking and fallen over something." He sniffs arrogantly. "I was having a perfectly lovely dream when you landed on me." I look around and realize I am in his apartment. I start to ask him what I am doing here, when he sits up suddenly and bounces me into the floor. "Ow!" "Sorry," he says sheepishly, and gives me one of those 'What else would you expect from me?' grins that so effectively disintegrate even my strongest resolve to be angry with him. I sigh and pick myself up, and shove his feet out of the way to sit beside him on the couch. "Something was chasing me." I shudder at the memory. "Giant bloodsucking worms? Satanic cats?" he teases, smiling to let me know he is kidding. He looks concerned when the terror I can feel lodged in my eyes doesn't disappear. "Scully, it was just a dream," he says more gently. "No, it...it..." I stutter. "It was chasing me, and then I fell, and I kept falling and falling and....and I guess I landed on your couch....but I don't know how..." I stop, and realize I am crying. "Scully," he says, and I hear the worry in his voice. "Sshh...It's ok, it's fine," he whispers, smoothing away the fear as his strong hands brush the tears from my cheeks. The tension begins to drip out of my knotted muscles, and his arms around me slacken slightly, but he does not let go. He holds me close and whispers into my hair, soothing me. As the icy horror begins to melt from my heart, his words become less nonsense, and I strain to hear above the sound of his heart. "I will always be here. I will always look out from behind these eyes. It's only a lifetime. It's only a lifetime, Scully." His voice has become melodic; he is singing to me. I look up with the question in my eyes. "Pink Floyd," he says softly. I smile, and settle back into his arms, feeling the warmth of his body creep under my skin. Gradually the heat begins to tingle, first in my hands and arms, then spreading throughout my body, until I am pulsing with his electricity. We both pull back slightly and gaze into each others eyes. I feel him trembling, mirroring the shivers running through my own nerves. His hand on my back tightens; his other hand lingers on my cheekbone. He touches my hair, tugging gently on the tangled strands. He looks at me as though for the first time, and I am sure that he sees the same expression of wonder on my face. He is beautiful. He is exquisite. "Scully," he intones huskily. I trace his lips with my forefinger, silencing him. His lips part slightly and the tip of my finger slips inside his mouth. He tastes me, tentatively at first, then nibbling, scraping the nail with his teeth. I draw his mouth close to mine and pull my finger away from his hungry tongue. My own tongue darts out and drops wet kisses on his cheeks, forehead, eyes. I lick his lips as though they were my own, and he groans against my mouth. Our lips brush, ever so slightly, barely noticable except for the fire I take from his mouth when I move my head away. He stares at me, unreadable as always, and I fear I have gone too far. His fingers trace indistinguishable patterns across the small of my back; his other hand is still tangled in my hair. His face is immobile, almost thoughtful as he gazes at me. I hold my breath and wait. Without warning, his lips are on mine, devouring me. Caught by surprise, I let out a starled gasp, but he does not relent. Now I am kissing him back, urgently; we are swallowing each other whole. I tumble backward into the softness of his couch, pulling him heavily with me. We giggle, mouth to mouth, tongues tangling within our ecstatic laughter. Clothes and inhibitions disappear like magic, until nothing stands between us but life---only if our breathing ceased could we be more perfectly intwined. He enters me smoothly, as though he belongs there, ensconsed inside me. We find our rhythm and move together within it, in an erotic dance worthy of the first creators. With each thrust he rocks me backward, closer and closer to the edge. I scream his name in that perfect coupling of pleasure and pain, and then I am falling again, but this time he is with me, his body locked with mine as he explodes inside me. ***** My eyes fly open as I sit straight up, alone, in my bed. I gasp for breath and cry out for him between the sobs racking my body. I wrap my arms around myself, attempting to abate the shudders that have invaded my bones. Gradually I calm myself and lean back into my pillows. I close my eyes and slow my breathing, knowing that my efforts are futile. Knowing, from experience. Remembering. Knowing that sleep will not find me again tonight. Finis. "I have always been here I have always looked out from behind these eyes. It feels like more than a lifetime Feels like more than a lifetime. Sometimes I get tired of the waiting Sometimes I get tired of being in here Is this the way that it's always been? Could it ever have been different? Do you ever get tired of the waiting? Do you ever get tired of being in there? Well, don't worry, Nobody lives forever Nobody lives forever. **Instrumental** I will always be here I will always look out from behind these eyes It's only a lifetime It's only a lifetime It's only a lifetime." "A New Machine" parts I and II From "A Momentary Lapse of Reason" Pink Floyd ~~~Moon https://members.tripod.com/~Ms_Spooky/index.html