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Games: Playoffs


SUMMARY: Scully proves that two can play, no matter the stakes.


"So -- Scully -- you want us to walk you to your car?" Mulder asked. He couldn't believe he hadn't won one single game of pool. It had been fun watching the two of them playing though. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but they looked so damn -- good -- moving around each other at the table, brushing against each other, just barely touching, as they leaned, and sighted, and stroked. Stalking the shots, looking up and laughing into each other's eyes at a good one, or a spectacular miss.

It was like they were dancing -- but of course, that was just his imagination. Probably from watching too many girl on girl movies at the All Night Sexiplex. Except he couldn't recall any of the women in them looking half as exciting together as these two did -- and they weren't even _doing_ anything! Boy, he really needed to release some natural humors if he was starting to think about Scully that way.

"Uh -- Scully?" he asked again. The two of them were slightly ahead of him as they hit the sidewalk, their bodies blending where their shoulders and thighs touched as they walked. For a second he thought the air shimmered around them. Must be the cold. "Your car?"

"That's okay, Mulder -- I'm not going home yet," Scully said over her shoulder, her eyes never leaving the other woman's face. "Am I?" she added quietly.

"I hope not," came the husky reply. "Could I tempt you with coffee or cognac?"

"You could tempt me with a lot of things, but coffee sounds like a place to start," Scully responded. Her body was still singing, and her hands itched to slide under that teeshirt and over the firm rise of breasts that had pressed fleetingly against her all night. "What about him?" she indicated with a slight nod. She didn't really want to compete with Mulder if that's the way things were.

"He's welcome to coffee, but that's it," the blonde replied softly.

"Then you really are just _Mulder's friend_."

"Mmm -- and some people call me Brett."

"Most people call me Scully. But you can call me Dana."

Brett turned to Mulder. "How about something to drink at my place, Mulder?"

His heart did a little dance, and a few other parts started to join in. "Oh yeah -- sounds great --" Really, really, really great.

Fortunately said parts had quieted down by the time they reached Brett's apartment and he realized all _three_ of them were having coffee. But she had a wide screen TV and the game was still on, so he soon forgot about his recent uplifting expectations.

"Can I help?" Scully asked, following after the long, lean length of sinuous muscle and golden hair and blue eyes that seemed to have completely stolen her senses. At least some of them -- others were still very much in attendance. She couldn't remember the last time she had been so turned on, and at the moment she had absolutely no desire to question it. And she certainly wasn't going to let things end with her coming in her pants from a little fondling. Two could play that game, and pay backs _should_ be hell.

Brett turned abruptly as she entered the kitchen and Scully collided with her, their breasts and bellies and thighs meeting. "Ohh-" Brett sighed, pulse soaring. "I think so."

Scully didn't move for a second as a brush fire raged through her body. Every cell began to simmer, but she wasn't ready for the flames just yet. The wanting was too sweet. She pressed closer, feeling Brett's nipples harden against her, then stepped around her into the kitchen. "Coffee pot?" she inquired, her voice thick.

"Counter," Brett choked, trying to steady her breathing.

Scully was pleased to see Brett's hands were shaking as she poured water into the coffemaker. Scully leaned against the blonde's side, reaching around her for the coffee filters stacked at the back of the long tiled counter. "Are we making enough for seconds?" She pressed her hips into the taut thigh.

Brett grasped the edge of the counter as her clit twitched in her jeans. "Fuck, no," she gasped. "One cup and he goes."

Scully rocked a little against her, enjoying the slow build of tension between her legs. Her first orgasm made waiting for the next one easier. Brett's pelvis jerked into the counter.

"Careful --" Scully breathed into her ear, "those edges can be hell."

"Unhhh--" Brett mumbled, closing her eyes against the surge of blood pushing into her already swollen clitoris. "I'm in a little trouble here."

Scully licked the side of her neck. "You ain't seen trouble yet." She stepped back at the sound of approaching footsteps.

"Hey!" Mulder called, turning the corner. "Have you got chips or anything?" He stopped and stared. Scully had the strangest smile on her face, like she had a secret. And Brett looked like she had just finished running a marathon. Her neck and upper chest were flushed, and he was sure there were little beads of sweat on her forehead. God, she was hot looking. In fact she looked _hot_. "You need me to open a few windows or something?" he asked as spied a bag of sun-toasted veggie bits on the top of the fridge.

Scully swallowed a retort as Brett slid one hand between her legs from behind. Scully clamped her thighs involuntarily, squeezing down on the delicious contact. "Mmphh -- NO! It's fine." She edged away an inch. "We'll be right out."

"Okay," he threw over his shoulder as he headed happily back to the game, his mouth stuffed with chips.

Scully collapsed back against Brett's chest. "Move that hand or lose it."

Brett laughed, leaning around to kiss her. Scully turned in her arms, raising her head, meeting her lips. First kisses were always a question mark -- would it be too rough, too tentative, too empty. It wasn't. It was right. It was soft, but firm, a brush of lips followed by a gently exploring tongue. Scully parted her lips, let her tongue meet Brett's, and they tumbled and fell into one another's mouths for a moment.

Scully drew back and Brett moaned in protest. Her hands slid from Scully's waist toward her breasts.

Scully caught them in an iron grip, twisting away as Brett's fingers flickered over her nipples. "Guest --" she hissed as the touch streaked through her. "Go play hostess."

"Argghhh--" Brett groaned, but dutifully arranged mugs and accessories on a tray and carried them into the living room. Mulder had settled into a large leather recliner, leaving the couch for Brett and Scully to share. They each took an end, facing each other.

"Are you cold?" Brett asked Scully as she handed her a steaming cup.

"Mmm -- a little," Scully replied, admiring the way Brett's cotton tee pulled tight across her chest. No bra. And beautiful breasts. Oh god. She set the cup down on the floor.

Brett made a move to get up. "I can start a fire."

"No --" Scully said, catching her arm. She indicated the afghan tossed over the back. "Just throw that over us." She pulled her legs up onto the sofa, and as soon as Brett spread the cover over them, Scully settled her feet in Brett's lap. When Brett pulled one leg up to get comfortable, Scully immediately moved her foot into Brett's crotch.

"Unnh-" Brett muttered in surprise. The bottom of Scully's stocking clad foot rested squarely over her clit.

"Yeah, I know," Mulder agreed, his eyes never leaving the screen. "Lousy pass rush."

Brett looked askance at Scully, who merely lifted an eyebrow while beginning to move her foot in slow circles over the tightly stretched denim between Brett's legs.

Brett's hand clenched into a fist where it lay on the colorful covers. Her hips rose to meet the tantalizing pressure. She turned hooded eyes to Scully's, the plea in them clear. "Don't," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I -- can't -- take --it-"

Scully glanced at Mulder, who was angled away from them, leaning back in the recliner. Smiling a little wider, Scully licked her lips and ran her hand slowly over the sheer silk blouse she wore, letting her fingers linger on the prominence of her hardened nipple. She pinched it, her hips jerking slightly at the intense pleasure.

Brett watched Scully excite herself as the rhythmic motion on her groin brought most of her blood flow into her pelvis. She certainly wasn't getting much to her brain because she was at the point where she didn't care who was in the room, she wanted to come so bad.

"Fuck-" she grunted as Scully's toe curled into the base of her clit. Her eyes rolled for a second and she had to bite her lip to still the moans that threatened to erupt.

"Hey!" Mulder exclaimed. "That's our guy! It was a great fake!"

"Right, Mulder," Scully agreed. The heat from Brett's crotch was palpable against her foot. She could tell from Brett's shallow breathing and the rapid thrusts of her hips under the cover that she was losing control.

"Help me," Scully whispered, echoing Brett's offer from the pool hall.

Brett's eyes widened for a second as her addled brain deciphered the message, then she slipped her hand under the afghan and under Scully's foot. She picked up Scully's rhythm with her fingers, working her clit through the wet fabric of her jeans.

Scully's lips parted in anticipation as she watched Brett's face. She felt Brett's hand moving furiously as she touched herself.

Brett was fighting to focus on Scully as her orgasm began to build. She braced her leg on the floor and arched her back into the cushions as the pulsations in her pelvis began to overflow into her belly and down her spine. Her teeth clenched audibly as the first wave pounded her, and she closed her eyes tightly against the relentless spasms.

Scully had to struggle not to shout in triumph as she watched her coming. God she was beautiful, and for those few scant seconds, Scully owned her.

"Oh fuck," Brett gasped involuntarily. She was trying to regain control but it was clear she was still coming. Her body twitched with each lingering contraction.

"I'll say," Mulder snorted in disgust, slamming the recliner into the upright position. "What a time to fumble." He looked over at the two women on the couch.

Maybe watching the game hadn't been a very good idea. Scully had that glazed look she got when she was totally bored by one of his stories, and Brett looked like she was about to collapse from exhaustion. Oh oh. Might be another rain delay heading his way.

"Uh, you two want to watch the post-game show?" he suggested tentatively.

"NO," Scully fairly shouted. She cleared her throat, took a deep breath. "You know what, Mulder? It's late. Why don't we call it a night? I'll just give Brett a hand clearing up in the kitchen, but you don't have to stay."

"Sure. Okay. I'll see you tomorrow then." Damn. He felt like he just lost a spot in the playoffs. Oh well -- there was always the wild card slot.

Scully smiled fondly as she watched him trudge out the door. Then she glanced over at Brett. "Have you had enough of the pre-game show?"

Brett stood up and held out her hand. "I think the big game's about to start."


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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