Disclaimer: The X Files and its characters belong to Chris Carter, 1013 and Fox, none of whom would ever pen something like this. Though they can try if they want to. [Please guys?] No infringement intended. Summary: One hotel room, two FBI Agents...and it's a hell of a hot night besides. Author's note: Smut, probably owing some of its life to the recent Southern California heat wave. So, if you're opposed to smut for whatever reason, the delete key is right over there. I'd hit it for you, but my mouse doesn't work. ;) _____________________ Hot and Sticky by Megan Reilly eponine@prodigy.net August 2, 1997 ______________________ It had to be a hundred degrees, even in the shade. Or maybe a thousand, Scully thought, peeling her hair from where it was sticking to the back of her neck. She looked again through the glass doors of the motel lobby at Mulder, who appeared to be bartering with the hotel manager, and she wondered why she'd elected to remain in the car. She kept thinking she should go in and see what was taking so long, but that would require going outside. Besides, he had to be finished soon. He'd been in there an eternity already. Finally, he emerged and rejoined her in the car. Mulder gave her a double take when he sat down and started the engine. "Scully, are you all right?" "No one ever told you not to leave your dog in a hot car?" she sighed. He flashed her a cold grin that bordered on mean. "What are you trying to say, Scully, that you're a bitch?" He said it as sweet as anything. "You might not want to go there, Mulder, considering I've been in the heat," she returned. "Well, I have some bad news for you." "What kind of bad news?" she asked, matching his irritated tone. "There's some kind of convention in town and they didn't hold our reservation." "Mulder, the nearest town with a motel is a hundred and fifty miles away! They have to find room for us." "That's what I told them." It was all he said. "And?" she demanded. He dropped a key into her hand. "One room," he told her, throwing the car into gear to drive around to the back side of the motel where the room was located. "I'd sleep in the barn, as long as it has air conditioning," Scully vowed. ,,, "It's not working. There's no air coming out of it at all," Mulder announced from his position crouched down next to the wall air conditioning unit. Scully merely closed her eyes and sagged against the wall behind him. A moment later, she pulled herself out of it. She'd dealt with mutants, killers, and the big hairy spiders Mulder was too scared of to kill. She could deal with this. She straightened her spine and opened her eyes, walking over to the window that was next to the door. She threw it open, peering out in the darkness. Other than the humidity in the room rising another fifty percent, to a total of close to a million, opening the window accomplished nothing. "You'd think it would cool off now that it's been dark a few hours," Scully said, continuing to look outside as though an answer was waiting for her out there. "Third floor. Heat rises," added Mulder. "Yeah, well, it's not the heat, it's the humidity." So long as they were trading cliches... "Bet you believe in global warming now," Mulder said chirpily. "I never doubted that one," she assured him. "And now I have all of the proof I need." Her clothes were weighing on her as though they were soaking wet, sticking uncomfortably to her skin. The look on Mulder's face turned to one of faint compassion. "It's not too late to make the trek over to the next town, you know," he offered. "It's eleven thirty," she told him. "It would take more than two hours. And two hours back here for our meeting in the morning. We'll just have to stick it out." They looked at each other, equally unhappy. "You might be more comfortable if you took some of those clothes off," Mulder suggested, eyeing her suit jacket, blouse, skirt and pantyhose. Only Scully would be wilting with heat and remain fully and properly dressed. "I intend to take them all off, Mulder," she informed him. His eyes only widened slightly. The slant to his eyebrow was jaded. "All these years, I never knew you were sleeping in the nude on the other side of the wall." "I mean, I have first dibs on the shower," she said, smiling briefly. "It's yours," he conceded. "I may never come back out," she cautioned him, going into the bathroom and shutting the door firmly. Digging through her bag in privacy, she began to regret her choices in packing. The nightgown she'd brought along was rather ragged, and it was short. Well, shorter than she would have preferred in close quarters with Mulder, anyway. The pajamas would have been too warm anyway, she told herself pratically, although she couldn't shake her slight discomfort at appearing in so little clothing. "Mulder, this isn't a very nice hotel," she told him when she came back out of the bathroom. The shower water had not only been tepid, it had been an intriguing shade of reddish brown. "I'm sure that's why they still had one room available," Mulder told her, his eyes skimming briefly over her nightshirt and her wet hair. "We need to discuss the sleeping arrangements." They'd noticed immediately that there was only one bed, but they'd also agreed that one of them could sleep in the chair. Mulder had gallantly offered to take it and Scully hadn't argued on the ground of womens' lib or anything else. She'd return the concession in some other way, probably many times. She always let him drive, didn't she? "What about the chair plan?" she asked him. "This isn't a very nice hotel," he echoed her words. Her shoulders sagged. "Bugs?" He nodded. "I checked the bed and it looks all right." "Thank god for small miracles," she muttered. "Your turn for the shower." "How bad was it? You don't look happy. Or cooler." "It was pretty bad," she said. "Then I'll wait for the morning," he told her, beginning to undress. Scully turned around and walked to the window, staring out into the still hot night. Mulder always did that, started peeling off clothes in front of her as though she wasn't there, or she was some kind of sexless creature. She closed her eyes for a moment, allowing herself to realize how tired she was. It wasn't as though she'd never seen him naked. But maybe it was good he didn't think of her that way, considering they were going to be sharing a bed tonight. If only she could think of him as just another body. If she wasn't conscious of her bare legs hanging out from beneath the nightshirt. Maybe it would be better if he thought more of her, considering they were going to be sharing a bed tonight. But no, she shelved the thought quickly. It was best for their partnership to remain platonic. Sex would complicate things. "Penny for your thoughts." Mulder had crept up on her and she jumped. "It's too hot," she said, which was what she had been thinking. It was too hot to get close to another body, no matter how well toned or belonging to Mulder it was. She slipped away from him and stole a look. He was still wearing his t-shirt and slacks. Traditional, she thought with a quirky smile. Mulder had to be the only man on earth who hadn't abandoned t-shirts after Clark Gable in "It Happened One Night." And he also didn't have any pajamas, she'd put money on that fact. "It Happened One Night"? She was in more trouble than she thought. At least they'd had two beds in that one, hadn't they? She shot Mulder a look and caught him watching her. She looked away quickly and barely managed to stifle a yawn. "I'm exhausted," she told him, walking over to the bed. He walked around the other side. "Which side do you want?" he asked her, looking down at the narrow bed with its ratty blanket. "I usually have my bed to myself, so it doesn't matter." Why did she suddenly regret those words? Mulder nodded and drew back the sheet. Scully did the same on her side, sliding in and moving as close to the edge of the mattress as she could. She pulled the sheet up around her ears, the way she did at home, and closed her eyes tightly. She resisted all urges to reach behind her and check the sheet to make sure she was covered. She'd never realized her nightgown's tendency to ride up around her waist. She felt the mattress sink beneath Mulder's weight. She felt him stretch out. He turned out the light and the room went dark. She could hear him breathing. "Good night, Scully." His voice was soft, and his tone was one she'd never heard him use before. It made her feel warm inside. But she was already warm enough, thanks. "Night, Mulder." She settled deeper into the pillow, unable to find a comfortable position. She should have asked for the other side of the bed, she realized. She liked to lie on her side, the one that would have left her facing Mulder. So she lay there on her back, feeling tense with the knowledge that he was just inches away from her. She tried to slow and deepen her breathing so she would go to sleep but she couldn't. She was too tense. It was too hot. She felt Mulder shift and heard his body moving against the bottom sheet. He'd left his portion of the top sheet bunched down at the end of the bed. He sighed. It was much too hot. "How can you stand to sleep with that sheet over you, Scully?" he asked, whispering. He knew she wasn't asleep. "I'm okay," she mumbled, muffled by that same sheet. She was broiling. The feel of crisp, cool, clean motel sheets was like home to her. Their roughness and their sterile smell set her at ease. This time, they'd worked no charm whatsoever. Two seconds after she lay down, she'd begun to sweat. Her nightgown already was disgustingly saturated and the sheets felt damp and gross. Silence again. Her unfamiliar position was pinching a nerve in her upper back and turning her arm to pins and needles. But she didn't want to shift in case Mulder was still awake. Or asleep, for that matter. She didn't want to disturb him. Scully couldn't believe how self conscious this was making her. I need to start sleeping around and get used to this, she thought. Mulder kept moving around in the bed. Too hot, she figured. He'd probably created his own pool of sweat to lie in. They were going to be dehydrated in the morning. She moved her arm and allowed the blood to flow back down into her fingers, flexing them against the sheet. She felt as though she were lying inside an oven. Her wet hair was plastered to her neck. The shower had done no good at all. She was already beginning to feel the frustration of not being able to sleep. Finally, she tossed off the sheet. If her ass started hanging out of her nightgown, Mulder could take pictures and she wouldn't care as long as she got to sleep. Everything was quiet for a little while. She felt marginally cooler without the sheet. Mulder gave up and stopped moving around. Scully began to relax, listening to his breath and becoming comfortable with his nearness. "I can't stand this anymore, Scully!" Mulder said suddenly, sitting up. "Stand what?" she groaned. He didn't answer but got off the bed. Was he moving to that other hotel? Did he expect her to get up and go with him? She turned her head to look at him, cracking her eyes open. He was pulling his trousers off. God, he has a nice ass, she thought, taking a nice long look at its firm outline beneath the thin cotton of his shorts. "What was that sigh for, Scully?" Mulder asked, catching her. "It's hot," she said, not for the first time. He turned to get back in the bed. "Leaving the t-shirt?" she asked him. "Would you prefer I took it off?" he asked her. "No, but you might." She turned her head away again and closed her eyes. She heard him pull the damp shirt off and felt the breeze it created as it sailed past her onto the floor on the other side of the room. "Do that again," she said. "What? Undress?" Mulder sounded amused. "No, create a breeze." "Go to sleep, Scully," he told her, getting back into bed next to her. She closed her eyes. The heat must have been lulling because she did as he said. ,,, "Mulder." The soft volume of the mumbled word drew her out of sleep. Scully opened her eyes, searching for the source of the sound before she realized she'd woken herself with her own speech. That hardly ever happened to her. She closed her eyes and prepared to go back to sleep. "What?" Mulder's voice was just as soft. "Nothing, go back to sleep," she whispered, squeezing her eyes more tightly closed. "Who would have thought you talked in your sleep, Scully?" he asked playfully. He leaned over her and his fingers brushed her skin as he smoothed her tangled hair away from her forehead. "I don't," she told him. "Then what was that? You were asleep, Scully." Her name sounded like an intimate nickname when he said it that way. "It's only happened one or two times. And it always wakes me up." "What were you dreaming about?" "I don't remember." It was the truth. The dream had evaporated the moment she broke through into wakefulness. "Aren't you warm in that nightgown?" he asked her. "Yes, but I'm not going to take it off." "Why not?" His fingers were moving tickilishly against her back now and it made her heart race. She couldn't think of an answer that she could actually say aloud to him. Because I...because you...because...because... No answers beyond the obvious. She wasn't going to lie uncovered in the bed next to him. "Go to sleep, Mulder." "It's too hot to sleep." He sounded like a child. But he wasn't, was he, he was a gorgeously full grown man with a childlike sense of wonder. "Try." And she sounded like his mother. Mother is good, she thought, mother is safe. "And then I wouldn't get to watch your face." She sat up in bed then and looked at him sharply. "You are not watching me sleep, Mulder!" "Try and stop me." His smile was tempting. She lay back down, pressing her face into the icky pillow and drawing the sheet up over her head. It was stifling and she thought she was going to suffocate. But she wouldn't be embarrassed. Scully concentrated on breathing so she could go to sleep again. "It was some dream you were having," Mulder said just as sleep began to overtake her. She jolted awake at the sound of his voice. "You're doing this on purpose," she said. He couldn't sleep, so she couldn't either, because he needed her for company. She refused to move or to give in further to his game. Her eyes remained closed and she went back to trying to sleep. A moment later, she felt the edge of the sheet being lifted. "You must be broiling in here," Mulder said. She didn't reply, but he still drew the sheet back from over her, freeing her from her ovenlike cocoon. She continued trying to sleep, pressing her face closer into the pillow. "You'd feel better without the nightgown," he wheedled. "Mulder, go to sleep!" "I'm only thinking of your comfort." She groaned in frustration and ignored him. He was going to drive her crazy. She was going to have to kill him. That was the only answer. She sighed and tried to block her physical discomfort and tried to sleep. Mulder rolled over to spoon up against her. "God, Mulder, it's too hot for this!" she cried, springing away from him. She gave him a glare and he looked sorry, so she lay back down, teetering against the edge of the mattress. She hoped she didn't fall out of bed. Maybe it would be cooler on the floor? But who knew what lived in the carpet... His fingers trailed down her back, like hot prongs. "Mulder, stop touching me!" she yelled at him. His touch withdrew. But she just waited, knowing it was only a matter of time. Sure enough, about five minutes later, he lay his palm flat against the side of her leg, near the knee. "Mulder!" she sat up in bed this time and glared at him. "Your skin is cooler than mine. Feel." He placed his hand against her cheek. "You are warm, Mulder, but we both are." "You're closer to the window." "It's not like there's a breeze." "Still." "Do you want to switch?" she demanded. She'd grant him anything at this point, so long as she could just go to sleep in peace. Even if that meant sleeping in the side of the bed he'd gotten all heated up. "No," Mulder replied mildly. "Okay then." She lay back down, determined to ignore him and sleep. He tugged on her nightgown and she gritted her teeth, refusing to move. "Aren't you hot?" he asked again. "Yes, Mulder, I am," she said, angrily, sitting up in the bed very quickly. Before she allowed herself to think about it, she stripped the nightgown over her head and threw it on the floor. She did feel slightly cooler now that her bare body was entirely exposed to the humid night air. Stubbornly, she met Mulder's eyes. That was a mistake. They'd turned dark and he was looking at her hungrily. Her breath started coming faster before she even realized it and she couldn't break their eye contact. She was definitely not sleepy any more. He sprawled against her and she didn't complain about having his hot, sticky skin against hers because his tongue was already halfway down her throat. In fact, she returned his kiss just as desperately, pressing herself even more closely against him. Had Mulder been hard before, or was this all a sudden reaction? She didn't suppose it really mattered. He pushed her down on the bed, not breaking their kiss. His hips ground against hers and she moaned a little. His fingers brushed the sides of her breasts, instantly turning her nipples hard. She shifted underneath his weight, opening her legs against his body pressed against her. Their breathing was ragged when they broke the kiss to stare at each other again, both of them amazed by the suddenness and near savagery of this encounter. Scully knew she should push him off her and scold him, tell him it was too hot for this and she was too tired so leave her alone already. But that look...his body pressed daringly against hers through the double layer of their cotton underwear...she couldn't say anything. She could just hold his eyes and put her arms around her and open her legs a little wider to encourage him. He shifted back, away from her, as his hands found her panties on her hips. The look in his eyes changed as he prepared to slide them down and off. He was asking her permission. After all of this...god, Mulder was clueless sometimes. She gave in and said it. If she wasn't so hot and aroused and needing him, the words would have made her laugh before she ever got them out. But she found that she meant them. "Take me, Mulder. Do it, do it hard, make me scream." "You are specific, aren't you?" he chuckled and she had to smile self-consciously. "No, I like it," he assured her. "I like it a lot." "Good," she said. He yanked her panties down and she gasped as he touched her. His fingers were almost rough as they pressed against her and she practically writhed on the bed. "Mulder -" It was a question and a demand. "That wasn't a scream," he said, taunting her. She fought back the waves of desire and pleasure that were pounding through her body and opened her eyes. Concentrating, she reached for him. Her hand faltered as he changed the way he was stroking her, but only for a second. She tried to pull his shorts down, but missed. Straining her muscles in time with his touches, she managed to wrap her legs around his where he was kneeling in front of her. "Mulder -" she whimpered, feeling the orgasm beginning inside of her and lingering just out of reach. She couldn't breathe; she felt like she was swimming in a hot, humid sea and drowning in it. His fingers slipped inside and pressed, hard. She came. Her eyes opened a few moments later when the world seemed solid again and she met his gaze. He smiled down at her gently. "Hey." There was an odd quirk to his mouth. She thought she saw something as soft as love in his eyes. "Mulder, I -" she said, sounding embarrassed. She felt embarrassed. She didn't know why. He'd watched her. He'd done it all, and gained nothing... "That was fun," he said softly. Nothing *yet*, she corrected herself. "Did I scream?" she asked, unable to remember. She thought she remembered hearing sound coming out of her mouth, but there had been far too many other demands for her attention at that moment. "Just a little," he told her. "Do you usually?" She half-laughed and shook her head, feeling strangely vulnerable, lying here with him kneeling over her, looking at her. "We'll try again," he told her. She raised herself up a bit and this time she managed to pull his shorts all the way down. She let out a slow breath as she looked at him. He sighed when she touched him. She moved to stroke him again, to do for him what he'd done for her, but he made a "no" sound in the back of his throat even as his head went back with pleasure. "Together," he told her, capturing her wrists and pulling her hands away from him. He pressed them into the bed above her head, holding her captive. He gave her a look, asking her if she would behave and she raised an innocent eyebrow at him. "Are you ready?" he asked her, sliding one finger into her, feeling how wet he'd already made her. "I want you inside me," she told him. "Good, 'cause that's where I want to be," he informed her and then he slid inside. She gasped, a funny little hiccup of surprise at how big...how completely...how good he felt. His hands caressed her thighs as he drew them up around his hips, changing the angle at which he was driving into her. It was pure, sweet agony. She wished there was something more she could do, but matching and countering his thrusts with her hips was about the best she could manage. It seemed to be enough because Mulder was getting close to coming. His control was slipping as the sensations pulled him back into his own mind and body. He moved against her a little awkwardly, a little too hard, a little too...but it was perfect. It was him and they belonged together. Her body seemed to open to his when he came. His final thrust went deep but she pressed against it, sending extra shudders though his body as he groaned. Moaning, she jerked her hips again and joined him. His body was hot and heavy lying against hers, but she didn't care. She could feel his breath in her own body as his chest rose and pressed against hers. He still lay between her thighs and she could still feel her nerve endings throbbing. She didn't want to move. He lifted his head and smiled at her. She smiled back, feeling boneless and content. He sighed and stroked her hair. One of his legs bent and covered both of hers as he shifted his weight off of her. His arm lay possessively against her chest and his lips caressed the corner of her mouth. "Mulder -" What was she going to say? Were there even words? He snuffled softly and she realized he'd found sleep at last. Men, she thought, but it was an endearment. She knew she wouldn't be getting any more sleep, but she wasn't going to begrudge him the rest as he had her. She lay still and watched him sleep. She began to see the appeal in it. He was a beautiful man. Sweet. Maybe he would wake with her name on his lips. Maybe then she would bother him into waking up. After all, look how well it had turned out when he'd refused to let her sleep. She smiled to herself. She smoothed his hair with a gentle hand and he made a soft sleepy sound. It was still a long time until morning. And tomorrow night was bound to be just as hot. the end. Comment appreciated: eponine@prodigy.net