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Fantasy Island: Awakenings


SUMMARY:  This trilogy was written in response to several requests to give Scully and Marsh a break from the trials and tribulations wrought on their lives by the Conspiracy, the X-files, and past and present dangers. In other words, a vacation. Thanks to Athos, for allowing me the use of his first title for their hideaway, as well as for his unique and invaluable friendship.


*It can't be 8:30 in the morning. I never sleep past six a.m. It doesn't matter what day it is - weekday, weekend, workday, or vacation, I'm always awake at six a.m.*

Scully turned carefully to look at the sleeping woman beside her. Marsh slept soundly, curled up on her side, her face turned on the pillow towards Scully. Her long dark lashes rested gently on her cheeks, and her face was lineless in repose. *It's all because of you. Everything changes when we're together. You make me do things, _ feel _ things, I never thought I could. You make me want things I never imagined*

Scully blushed, remembering Marsh's whispered words of the evening before. *Fantasies*

Had she ever had a fantasy? Had she ever dreamt of something so beyond her experience that she could call it a fantasy? If anyone were capable of moving her to fantasy, it was the woman beside her. Marsh had brought another dimension to her life. She had brought passion, and deep-seated need, and a sense of physical desire so acute it was painful.

Scully carefully slid the light cotton sheet off Marsh's shoulders. With a feather light touch, she traced the muscles in Marsh's chest and arms, stopping immediately when Marsh rolled onto her back with a sigh. As Marsh's breathing became even once again, Scully continued her tactile journey. She brushed the palm of her hand lightly down the smooth planes of Marsh's abdomen, allowing her fingers to rest lightly in the soft dark hair at the base of Marsh's belly. Marsh shifted once again, murmuring slightly at the touch, bringing one knee up reflexively.

Scully leaned up on an elbow, looking up and down the length of Marsh's long sensuous form. She placed her thumb gently on the soft skin high on the inside of Marsh's leg, her fingers fanning lightly over the tendon separating leg from belly. She caught her breath as the muscles trembled under her touch. She inched down on the bed until her face hovered above Marsh's lower abdomen. She breathed deeply, reveling in the myriad of rich scents. There were hints of sandalwood and ivory and something altogether indefinable. There was the underlying tang of Marsh's unique bouquet, drawing her closer, urging her inward, a siren's call.

She wasn't sure if it qualified as a fantasy, but there _ was _ something she had always wanted to do. Her heart hammered at the mere idea of it. She lifted the covers further and moved stealthily lower until she was resting on her elbows between Marsh's legs. She had not yet touched her, other than to press Marsh's raised knee slightly to the side. Now she simply lay gazing at the splendor before her. She was amazed at her own boldness. It wasn't as if as a physician there were any mysteries the body still held for her. But this in fact was a mystery beyond description. The colors of sunset, the perfume of ancient priestesses, the softness of newborn skin - so elegant, so powerful, so undeniably desirable - the essence of woman, her lover.

*I want her so badly my body is aching. I can feel my own wetness dripping down my thighs. She hasn't even kissed me, nor I her. Yet I know the taste of  her lips where all others have faded. She hasn't touched me although I know the feel of her hands as well as my own. I want nothing more than to hold her delicate, fragile, strong self in my hands, between my lips, inside me. I want to drink her, consume her, devour her*

Scully rested her forehead briefly on the cool sheets, the palms of her hands resting possessively yet so reverently on the insides of Marsh's thighs. She lay listening to Marsh breathe - slowly, evenly, reassuringly steady.  She realized that this was what Marsh brought to her life.  Consistency, certainty, the realization that there was someone who loved her regardless of external events.  Not for what she had accomplished, not for the degrees she had earned, or for what she proved, or disproved - none of those things mattered to Marsh.  Scully felt no need to be anything other than what she was, sometimes strong, sometimes uncertain, often stubborn, and always driven.  Marsh seemed to understand those forces which had governed her since childhood, the need to prove her worth through work.  Even when her work kept them apart, Marsh never complained. Her family had never accepted her as unconditionally.  She always felt the need to conform in some why, to meet her father's aspirations for her, to fulfill her mother's dreams for her, to fit her brothers' images of her. Melissa had wanted her to be less rational, more accepting of her emotional  side. Scully had a feeling Missy would have approved of Marsh. Marsh was the only person in her life who never wanted her to be anything other than what she was.  Marsh was the only person who loved her for precisely _who_ she was.

She raised her head, turning slightly to press her lips against the tender space high on the inside of Marsh's thigh. She closed her eyes, absorbing the sensations. Warmth, softness, sweet fragrances. She slowly kissed her way to the tender folds of skin between Marsh's legs, stopping when she felt Marsh twitch.  She waited there, floating somewhere between contentment and desire. *This yearning, this wanting, this undying need - this is love*

Love. A word so easily spoken, an emotion so seemingly universal -  yet a concept so elusive to define. *Why her and no one else? Others have passed through my life, have touched me, have even loved me for a while, in a way. Mulder loves me -- I love him. But I've never wanted him like this -- a hunger beyond words, a thirst beyond description -- * She flicked her tongue over a clear drop of ambrosia clinging to the intricately scalloped, demurely closed slips of flesh guarding hidden treasures within. Marsh murmured, her pelvis shifting slightly.

Scully smiled, enjoying her power. She insinuated her tongue further, parting the delicate folds, releasing a trickle of warmth onto her lips. The scent, the taste was so sudden, and so uniquely Marsh, Scully nearly gave in to the urgent desire to take all of her into her mouth. *No. Slowly. As slow as you can, for as long as you can*

She breathed out softly, watching the swelling begin -- feeling an answering pressure between her own legs. *Ah god -- she is so beautiful* Carefully, she brought both thumbs along either side, pulling Marsh open, exposing the hot, moist, pulsating core to her view. How could mere flesh surpass poetry in it's elegance and simple purity? She almost forgot to breathe.

Reverently, she placed a kiss on the barely visible tip of Marsh's clitoris, and was rewarded with a faint twitch against her lips. She pressed forward slightly, using her mouth to push back the enclosing hood, encircling the swiftly engorging prominence, but not yet touching it with her tongue. Her own clit pounded. Had she ever done anything so bold? The excitement in the still morning air was nearly audible. Her rapidly beating heart echoed the pulse tripping beneath her lips.

She sucked. Gently at first, pull-release, pull-release -- coaxing more blood into the already taut tissues, urging the thick warm fluid to flow faster -- losing herself in the rhythm. Her body awakened to the visceral memory, responding in kind, her arousal matching what she felt in her lover. Marsh groaned and Scully whimpered, eyes tightly closed, all her awareness focused on the messages Marsh's body was sending her. She ran her tongue from the tightly clenched muscles below up over the top of Marsh's fully erect clitoris. Her own clit twitched as Marsh's pelvis lifted into the stroke.

*I've got to touch myself -- if I don't, I'll explode* She placed the flat of her fingers on the base of her clit, massaging it, trying to quiet the rising storm so that she could concentrate on bringing Marsh to the edge. The sharp urgency abated, only to be replaced by a deeper aching pressure. She struggled to ignore the need to stroke herself faster.

Her tongue was circling Marsh's clit now, firmly, brushing the stiff shaft from side to side. Marsh's hand came to her hair, her fingers tangling in the soft locks. Scully sensed her hovering on the brink of awakening as Marsh's body gathered for the impending cataclysm.

* Oh god, oh god -- she's going to come soon. Yess-- let me have it -- oh baby -- you are so incredible--* This was the moment that always tore her reason from her. Marsh was so vulnerable as her control slipped away, trembling helplessly as her nerves and muscles surrendered to the volley of surging impulses streaming through them. *Oh lord, let me love her well enough to deserve this -- *

Scully's fingers moved rapidly between her legs, but she wasn't aware of her own rising need. Marsh's clit began jerking between her lips, and she rocked her whole face into Marsh as she pulled her harder into her mouth.

Marsh grasped at the sheets as she half sat up with a cry. "Oh my god-- you're making me come--"

Scully never stopped her rhythmic strokes, not even when tears of wonder flooded her eyes, not even when the first gripping spasms of her own orgasm tore through her belly. She didn't stop licking her even after Marsh had collapsed back onto the bed and her own legs had stopped trembling. She might have stayed there for hours, no thoughts in her mind, the sense of supreme satisfaction her only emotion -- had Marsh not spoken.

""I cannot believe how loved you make me feel," Marsh whispered brokenly.

"I cannot believe how much I love you," Scully murmured, resting her cheek against the inside of Marsh's thigh.

"I wish I had some way to show you how much I adore you," Marsh continued, pushing up onto her elbows, gazing down into Scully's flushed and somewhat triumphant face.

Scully's eyes, still glazed with passion, sparkled suggestively. "There is."

Marsh reached down to pull Scully up into her arms. "And that might be?" she inquired, her lips parting for their first kiss, thinking of exactly how she was going to make love to her.


Marsh stared at her in amazement. "Come again?"

Scully grinned. "All right. But coffee first."


DISCLAIMERS:The characters of Scully, Mulder, Skinner and others/events introduced on the X-Files are the sole property of Chris Carter etc, and are used here without permission for entertainment, not for profit.



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