Games: Winner Takes All
SUMMARY: Scully meets Mulder's new friend -- and begins a journey where the rules change as quickly as the scenery.
It was after their third date that Mulder began to wonder why he couldn't score. She seemed to like him enough -- they had a great time talking about football, and the Nicks. She could argue point spreads better than any of the geeks at work. And she looked so sexy with her baseball cap turned around backwards, leaning her arms on the bar, poking his shoulder for emphasis when she explained to him why his picks were off. She could keep up with him drink for drink too, and when they wended their way home, arms around each other's waist, singing the National Anthem, he was sure they were bonding. Maybe that's when he should have made his move, but he ended up just hugging her. He had tried to get his hand on her breast but the leather of her authentic bomber jacket was just too stiff. And last night had been the clincher. She'd said, _Hey Fox, let's check it out_, when they passed the marquis announcing _Invasion of the Body Snatches_. He'd looked at her quickly in amazement, and caught the tail end of that fleeting grin that always looked like there was a secret behind it. He'd had an overwhelming urge to -- punch her on the arm? No wonder he couldn't score.
"What's the matter, Fox?" she asked him kindly, laying a hand on his sleeve. Her bare arms were sleekly muscled, with just a hint of softness tempering the sculpted edges.
"Um -- I don't know. Just tired I guess. I've got a little headache." He felt like a failure. And damn, he liked the way she looked with her Hard Rock teeshirt tucked into those faded jeans -- and the boots were a perfect accessory. He recalled it was her impressive biceps that had first caught his eye at the gym, and before he knew it they were spotting for each other like old gym buddies. So he'd asked her out. Well, maybe catching a bite at the bar before the big game wasn't every woman's idea of a romantic evening, but she seemed to agree readily enough. And she'd seemed to like coming back with him.
Her blue eyes clouded with concern. "Maybe we should go somewhere else. It's pretty loud in here."
His heart leapt. This was it. She was going to ask him back to her place. Oh, YES. The moment was close at hand. He could imagine peeling her jeans down those long toned thighs, pressing his face to her flat, smooth abdomen, running his hands over her small firm breasts. Putting his lips on -- Oh yes, yes, yes.
"What did you have in mind?" he asked coyly. As if he didn't know.
"How's your pool game? There's a really nice parlor just a few blocks away." She pushed a strand of blond hair behind one ear, in that unconsciously seductive way she had. She tilted her head to peer at him, her wide full lips parted invitingly.
*Nine ball as foreplay?* He did admit to a certain thrill at the thought of taking her on. He liked a little competition to quicken his appetite.
"Okay, sure," he replied. *I can wait a little longer for the big touchdown*
"Good," she smiled. She started to rise when, suddenly, she became totally still. Her eyes fixed on a point across the room, and Mulder swore she stopped breathing. A faint blush stole over her neck and chest where the vee of her shirt exposed the lightly tanned skin. Right at that little hollow where he longed to put his lips. Her pulse hammered visibly there, as if she'd been running.
"We've got company," she murmured in a stunned tone as a voice at his ear announced crisply, "You left without taking this, Mulder."
He looked up into his partner's snapping blue eyes. She was waving a sealed manilla envelope under his nose. "Your half of the expense report -- remember? Due tomorrow? The half that _I_ am not going to do?" She placed it smartly on the table in front of him. He grinned winningly.
It was then that Scully became aware of a warmth on her cheek, and looked over the table into a pair of aqua eyes that glowed like laser beams. For a moment she was caught, fixed in the highbeams on a deserted, darkened road. Unable to move, and not wanting too, even as the eighteen-wheeler bore down upon her. She meant to form words as the leonine presence rose gracefully from the chair, but no sound emanated from her tightly constricted throat. She had a sense of coiled power, poised to strike, swiftly, decisively, lethally. She should flee, but her legs were rooted to the floor.
Suddenly, a dazzling smile brought out the sun, and she was released from the spell. The night receded, but the heat remained.
"Hi. I'm Mulder's friend."
"Hi. I'm Mulder's partner."
Mulder watched them shake hands. He shivered and wondered why, because he was sweating. They leaned toward each other slightly, blue eyes locked, arms meeting in an unspoken challenge. He cleared his throat when it began to look like they might be mind-melding.
"Uh, Scully, we were just about to go shoot some pool." She hated pool. Not that he minded her company, but he didn't want her to feel left out. Especially when the two of them left to do the wild thing.
"Great," Scully responded, a smile reluctantly playing on her lips in answer to the insolent grin lifting the corner of the blonde's beautiful mouth. "Sounds like fun. Let's go."
Mulder stared as the two of them turned toward the door, and nearly overturned the glasses on the table in his haste to follow. On the short walk to the pool hall he had the pleasure of listening to them get acquainted, while he tried to add pertinent information about himself. He was glad they liked each other though. He could tell they did, from the way they walked with their shoulders just touching, and their heads bent close, and their hands occasionally brushing. He liked listening to their laughter too -- a light low murmur of shared recognition. This was good -- Scully was breaking the ice -- this was definitely good.
An hour later he was certain of it. There was something in the air all right. They'd commandeered a table in the rear, and were playing winners. So far the lithe blonde hadn't lost a game. And it was Scully's turn to play her again. Mulder watched with a familiar tingling in his groin as the taller woman leaned over his smaller partner from behind, helping her sight the ball. He knew Scully wasn't much of a pool player, but he never remembered her needing instruction before. Just the same, he enjoyed the opportunity to study his date's ass. It was firm and nicely rounded, packed into the slightly tight blue denim. Yeah, he could see himself pressed up against that butt, his hands sliding around the front, working the zipper down, reaching in to find her wet with wanting him. Wouldn't be much longer.
Scully pressed back as she drew on the cue stick, and gasped slightly at the responding surge against her ass. She could feel the whole length of the other woman's thigh almost between her own, and the unmistakable swell of breasts against her shoulder where they leaned forward together. She looked down to see the long-fingered hand lightly grasping her wrist, lining up the shot, and her skin burned where their flesh met. The slow fire that had been smoldering since their first touch began to simmer. She tried to sight the angle, and realized her vision was hazy. "Can't quite get my bearings," she admitted, her voice low and husky.
"Mmm -- I know what you mean," a warm whisper breathed into her ear. "I'm a little at sea myself." She shifted slightly, her hand dropping to Scully's waist, brushing lightly over the edge of hip bone, her fingers coming to rest just in the angle of Scully's abdomen and thigh. "Does that help at all?"
Scully felt a little light-headed. She hadn't had anything to drink, had she? She drew away from the painfully pleasant touch on her leg, only to find her pelvis rubbing on the edge of the table. Her clit came to full attention. "Oh," she murmured as she grew full and wet. "I'm afraid I'm going to blow this shot."
Soft laughter, a quick caress of fingers along her arm. "I don't think so. And if you do -- we can always start again." The hand on her thigh pressed closer into the heat between her legs, drawing lightly on the fabric of her slacks, the motion intensifying the building pressure.
Scully tried to focus. She slid the stick rhythmically through the circle of her fingers and palm a few times, gaging just the right force. The smooth surface was slick, and her fingertips tingled.
"That's perfect -- just stroke it -- stroke it gently -- yes, just -- like -- that," came the soft instruction. The fingers were moving dangerously close now. Just one touch away from ignition.
Scully felt the other woman tremble slightly, heard the quickening of her breath. Scully closed her eyes as her legs shook, threatening her balance. Spiraling sensation erupted unbidden in her belly. Her hips undulated subtlely in tight thrusts in the cramped space. "I'm going to lose it completely," she admitted desperately.
"Let me help."
Arms came around her from both sides, enfolding her in heat and muscle. A cheek brushed her own, soft, damp with light sweet sweat. A pleasant weight on her back, pushing her forward, increased the friction between the curve of rail and her pelvis. Her body tensed as her clit road over the rounded edge of the table.
"Now," the woman murmured, her lips barely brushing the corner of Scully's mouth. "Take your shot -- let it go."
Scully bit her lips as ripples of fire streaked down her legs and tore through her chest. Her arms thrust within the circle of the woman's embrace, and as she heard the crack of ball on ball, she let the blazing heat ride through her. She whimpered once, softly, so only her companion could hear.
"Oh -- nice shot, Scully!" Mulder applauded from his seat on the stool along the wall. They didn't seem to hear him.
"Mmm --" the woman murmured, straightening slowly, staying between the still shaking redhead and Mulder. "Very, very nice indeed."
Scully turned, her eyes cloudy, and raked the blonde from head to toe with a smoldering gaze. She didn't miss the rapid rise and fall of her chest, or the flush on her face or the slightly parted lips swollen in arousal. She pushed the cue stick forward, the handle brushing the taller woman's fly, resting for a fleeting second in the damp triangle between her thighs. She smiled slightly at the sharp intake of breath, and the flickering need in her eyes.
"Your shot. And remember -- winner takes all."
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.