=======

Category:  Slash/NC-17
Archive:  Nowhere, thank you
Disclaimer:  They aren't mine, they'd have much more fun if they were.  This
is for the Marquise De Lean, who gives me so much pleasure with her stories
and her fun, and is a mirror of "Swimming Lessons," from Mulder's pov.

The Deep End

by KassXF
(kassxf@aol.com)
========

It was another lovely day of arguing with Scully.   I don't know why I do it.
I know she's got this strictly rational viewpoint, aside from the weird diets
she follows religiously, and applies it rigorously.  She's made science her
God, when she's not in the throes of religious revival, and even thinking that
reveals my innate assholery.

But I was tired and stressed and when that happens, I go swimming.  Hard laps
usually work out my frustration and leave me feeling a little cooler-headed.

I always swim at the end of the day, when the dedicated body worshippers have
gone.  Not many people here at that time.  Once in a while, I run into Skinner
here, but we don't exactly chat.  Especially if he's chewed my ass
that day.

I don't usually chat with anybody, beyond a nod of acknowledgement.  I don't
do chatty exercise.  I don't want spotters and I want to clean out my head.

So I was surprised, when I came out to the pool and saw Pendrell bobbing in
the water.  

Well, not bobbing, but doggedly swimming.  Like he hadn't done much of it.  It
reminded me of a buddy in high school who used to tell me that for him,
swimming was staying alive in the water, he couldn't understand why I liked it
so much.

I never explained to him that when I was swimming, I became someone else,
someone sleek and graceful and clean of all past sins, not the kid who'd lost
his sister because he hadn't taken good enough care of her while their parents
were gone.

At first, seeing Pendrell, I have to admit I was annoyed, I wanted the pool to
myself.  But I could see his face as I got closer, focused and dogged and
determined and somehow, I knew he'd had the same kind of rotten day I'd
had.

Can't kick the guy when he's down.  I liked Pendrell anyway, even if I ragged
on him about his obvious crush on my partner.  He was not only a nice guy, he
was one helluva forensics scientist, he'd helped us so much and so often, and
as far as I could tell, for nothing but a rare smile from Scully.

Nice guy.  

He swam clumsily up to the edge and looked up at me.  Startled, dismayed.

"Nice form there, Agent Pendrell," I told him, and then wished I hadn't. Dove
in to hide my own embarrassment over ragging him.

Two laps, the water streaming by, I wasn't a land creature any more, but
mutating.  A selkie, that was it, and another lap.  Washing away my smart
assery.

Came up for air and smiled at Pendrell.  Damn, water in my ear, and he was
still looking dismayed.  "You know, I used to able to do that without getting
an earful of water."  Shaking my head to one side, tapping the side of it.
God, that dulled sound, that slosh, I always hated that.  Selkies didn't get
water in their ears, dammit.

Pendrell nodded, then shook his head, wincing.  "Oh, don't do that, there's a
much easier, and safer, way to do it."

I felt my eyebrows rise. "There is?"

Another wince and nod.  "A drop or two of hot tap water in the canal.  Breaks
the pressure and you can just tilt the water out."

I'd never heard that.  Not even from my swimming coach.  "Are you serious?"

"Yes."  For no reason I could see, he blushed.  "Scientific fact."

Science again.  I managed a grin.  "Well, who am I to argue with science?" I
didn't even want to *talk* about science, and pushed off to start another lap,
not really meaning to be rude.  Stopped when I realized he was still back at
the edge.  "Hey, come on, water's fine."

He got redder.  "I was, uh... just..."

I wondered if the other field agents gave him a hard time and felt a little
guilty.  ""Oh, come on, a couple of laps."

He sighed, shrugged.  "Sure." Still looking low.

We reached the opposite wall, turned and finished the lap.  I got out and
stood on the ledge, looked at him working hard and realized that he'd probably
come here like me, to be alone, to be done with the crap.  He stopped, stood
and wiped at his eyes.  "Hey, I'm sorry," I told him quietly.  "You wanted to
swim alone didn't you?"

He stared at me for a moment.  "No, no, I'm just ... just... " He paused,
baffled.

"Just?" I asked, helpfully.

Pendrell took a deep breath.  "I just wish Agent Edwards was here so I could
hold him under until he burbles "uncle." He scowled and climbed onto the ledge
next to me.

Bingo, I'd been right.  "Ah.  Working off some frustration."  Nodded
sympathetically.  "I feel your pain.  If it wasn't for frustration I'd
probably be in much worse shape."

Pendrell chuckled outright.  "Yeah."  Patted his stomach.  "As you can see,
I'm content more often than not."

"Not really."  I eyed him.  He was in pretty good shape for one of the lab
guys.  Really good shape.  A lot of hair, which I frankly felt a little
envious about.  Pretty macho for a little guy.  Nice compact shape, muscled,
but not buff.  "You're in better shape than Hollis." 

His expression changed and he stopped blushing.  "Hollis is retiring in two
weeks!" Indignantly. 

I nearly cracked up.  He'd forgotten to be uncomfortable with me.  "Okay,
*Much* better shape than Hollis.  All right?"

A long look, a shrug, but he finally laughed.  "All right." 

I pushed off again from the ledge, rolled over on my back and floated  lazily.
Thinking about Pendrell's obvious frustration.  Edwards was a fuck-off, he'd
messed up more than he'd done right since he'd been there.

"So, what did Edwards do?"

His expression went cross again. "It's what Edwards doesn't do."  Hotly.  And
then he told me what Edwards didn't do.  

He was sloppy, inconsiderate, rude, lazy.  Crappy to his co-workers, leaving
work undone or botched, a son of a bitch to his long-suffering wife.  Pendrell
finished up wishing a transfer on Edwards.  "Before I do something stupid,
like stick a spore culture in his lunch.

"Could improve him, " I suggested, but I'm not sure he heard me.  I wondered
if he had anyone he could talk to about things.  Wistfully realized that I
didn't, either.  

And then, all of a sudden, he stopped, flushed again. "I'm sorry, Agent
Mulder," he said. "I shouldn't
have..."

I don't know why, but I didn't want him to close up again.  "Edwards is an
ass," I told him, without acknowledging the apology.  "Did you know that he
nearly fucked up one of my cases?"

Pendrell looked shocked.  "No kidding, he did?"

I nodded solemnly.  "Luckily, I found another lab tech to straighten it out
and I was able to finish the job, bring the perp in."

His brows drew together as if he were trying to remember.  "Who?" 

He really was self-deprecating. I took a short dive under and came up next to
the ladder, a little embarrassed myself.  Climbed it, and stopped. Looked back
at him.  "You."   I looked back as I got to the deck and grabbed my towel.
Smiled a little at his astonishment.  "So, thanks for the advice," pointing to
my  ear.  "And thanks for the good work.  You saved the day, Agent Pendrell.
Probably a couple of lives along with it."

I felt good to see the pleasure in his face.  Felt guilty that I hadn't said
it before.  He was a nice guy.  We ran him ragged, Scully never gave him the
time of day, and I ragged on him.  I wasn't going to any more. 

Smiled and walked back to the locker room, feeling cleaner and better than I
had in days.


After a couple of weeks of running into each other regularly, we switched  to
early morning swims.  Nobody there, and I had a great time.  I'm pretty
isolated in the Bureau, and mostly, mostly, I don't mind.  But I liked
 Pendrell and I wasn't just doing it because I felt for him, I got a lot  out
of our talks, he wasn't as close minded as Scully is, at least when  she's
talking to me.  He gave me a few new slants on things, and I'd get  into the
office feeling a lot clearer of head and ready to go, made some points with
Scully, too.
 
 And he stopped being quite so....diffident, I guess I'd say.  More
comfortable with me.  Which was a good feeling.  We'd rag each other gently,
and I suggested a few things to clean up his stroke.
 
 "It's *nearly* perfect," I'd tell him, eyeing him critically.  "Just a  leee-
tle bit less
 lower leg and..."
 
 "A lot.  You mean a lot."
 
 I'd shake my head.  "No, no, no.  A little.  When I say a little, I mean a
little."
 
 "I'm kicking half the water out of the pool.  Just say 'a lot.'  All right?
Just say it."  He was sure he was totally worthless at swimming, among other
things. He was confident in the lab, but not so confident elsewhere.
 
 "No, if it's too much you won't get it either.  You  have to trust me."
 
 I'd demonstrate for him, but he'd watch me with that Scully look in his eyes.
And finally, one morning, I gave up.  "You know," I told him, somewhat darkly,
"All you scientists get that same look when you don't believe me."  
 
 He blinked.  "All of -us- scientists?"
 
 I sighed, realized how unfair that was to him.  "Well, since you and Scully
are the only scientists I know, I'll
 change that to both."  A slight scowl.  "But the look *is* the same."
 
 He flushed.  "I'm sorry, I really am."
 
 Abruptly, my throat was too tight.  I couldn't answer.
 
 He swam over, nudged me.
 
 I blinked hard, wondering what the hell was wrong with me that I was so stung
by his skepticism.  Still couldn't answer him.
 
 He nudged me again, this time a bit harder.  "Come on," with one of those
hopeful smiles that always got to me.
 
 It almost made me smile, but that lump was still in my throat, I looked away.
 
 Another nudge coupled with an innocent look. "Come on, Coach.  How am I ever
going to be ready for the big meet if you won't help me out here?"  
 
 The lump eased.  I rolled my eyes dramatically.  Managed a smile again.  He
was one helluva guy.  "Okay," banishing more negative emotions.  "But  instead
of leg kicks, I think the next lesson is How To Save Yourself From Drowning."
 
 He grinned and took the bait.  "Okay, Coach.  How do I save myself from
drowning?"
 
 I could feel my mouth curve, but this smile was feral.  "Beats the hell out
of me," I growled and dunked him.
   
 He came up gasping for air and laughing.  

I let him dunk me back, just because, and then turned the tables.  Like a
couple of kids playing, and nothing had felt so much fun, so relaxed, since
before my sister was taken.
 
 I came up for air, laughing, and dunked him again, turn and turn about two
more times, both of us laughing like crazy.  The last time, I was afraid I was
laughing too hard to catch my breath, rose up and gasped, still laughing my
ass off.   "Enough, uncle, uncle.."
 
 He was laughing hard enough I was afraid he was going to go unde, her was
doing the worst job of treading water in front of me.  "Uncle," he agreed and
suddenly shocked the hell out of me.
 
 He pushed the hair from my forehead, cupped my cheek and beamed at me.  Big,
wide smile, eyes brimful of delight.  
 
 I knew it was meant as an innocent gesture.  I didn't take it as anything
else.  But it surprised me.  It's been years since anyone has touched me like
that, just out of affection.  Just because they liked me, because they felt
good with me.
 
 Even Scully hasn't done that for a long, long time.
 
 It felt.....it felt good enough that I wanted to throw my arms around him and
hug him back, lift him out of the water and dunk him again, just to ease the
delight in my gut.
 
 And then, he got this horrified look on his face like he shouldn't have done
it.  My heart damn near broke.
 
 I knew what it was.  I was Spooky Mulder.  You weren't supposed to touch
Spooky Mulder.  Guys aren't supposed to touch each other anyway, unless it's a
slap on the back, or a punch on the shoulder.
 
 I tried to reassure him with my expression, but the pain of that withdrawal
made my stomach ache.  Finally hit upon what to do, reached out and ruffled
his wet hair.  Already curling from the water.  Maybe a little more
affectionately than was kosher, but his relief was apparent. Finally.
 
 I took a short dive under to escape that, surfaced by the ladder.  I climbed
out and managed not to look at him.  Dried my face and hung the towel over my
shoulders.  "See you tomorrow at work, Mark Spitz.  I have a whole bag of
goodies just waiting for your expert opinion."
 
 "Yeah.  Sure.  No problem." Faint voice.  "See you tomorrow."
 
 I padded into the locker room, my throat too tight again.  Stood under the
shower for a long time, and if the water on my face wasn't just water, nobody,
least of all me, knew.
 

 It took most of the next day to get up the nerve to take the evidence bag
down to the lab.  God knows why.  Maybe I was afraid he'd be able to see
through me.
 
 He took the evidence bags without blinking.  He was good at that, finding
that detachment to keep from feeling the vctim's pain, yet still maintaining
enough involvement to work fast and hard, to prevent someone else from facing
the same fate.  
 
 I stuck my hands in my pockets, unwilling to leave.  See, there was this
grand Anniversary closing of this......well, I kept turning it over in my
mind.
 
 Got a bright eyed glance and a raised eyebrow.  Rocked back on my heels, but
suddenly, my mouth was dry and my brain refused to produce the simple words. 
 
 He flushed, but took pity on me.  "Any special instructions?" Pointing to the
bag.
 
 I quickly shook my head. "Oh, no.  The usual." Hesitated. "Whatever the
'usual' is."
 
 He grinned at that, suddenly more comfortable.  "Well, first I get my Magic
Eight Ball out," with mock-seriousness.  "And then my divining rod..."
 
 I grimaced, feeling like a fool.  "Har, har."  But he hadn't been a bastard
about it, he'd been teasing me, and I studied him, just....just enjoying it.
 
 He glanced up and turned red again.  Coughed.  And I started to think that
maybe I wasn't out of my mind after all.
 
 "Will there be anything else, Agent Mulder?" he asked, crisply and
professionally.
 
 I nearly chickened out again.  Maybe I *was* out of my mind.   "No,"  I
hesitated again.  "Except..."
 
 The word hung there.
 
 He frowned a little, but it was concentration, not irritation.  "Except?"
 
 "Except," I agreed, "Except that Godzilla is invading a small town in
Virginia this evening and I wondered if you'd care to join me in viewing it.
It's a purely scientific expedition, of course."
 
 Pendrell peered up at me skeptically.  "Godzilla?" he repeated, sounded just
as confused as I felt.  "*The* Godzilla?  You know, Mulder..."
 
 I felt better, help up a hand and grinned.  "The world's last drive-in
theater is closing next week and it happens to be in a small town not too far
from here.  I was going anyway, and I thought you might get a kick out of the
place.  It's showing all the movies it showed the first week it opened in,
what 1959? '61?"
 
 He brightened.  "Oh. Yeah. Yeah, sure. That sounds like fun."
 
 This stupid grin appeared under my nose.  I couldn't help myself, nor could I
stop it.  "Great, great, I'll stop down here at seven-thirty. First showing is
at nine."
 
 He nodded.  I thought he looked pleased, turned to leave, feeling vastly
better.  Something made me turn back to look at him, to smile.   "And be sure
to remind me to stop and get the drinks and popcorn on the way there.
 Or it'll be a real no-frills sort of date."
 
 He laughed.  "Got it."
 
 So, back I went, closing the door behind me.  I couldn't get rid of the
foolish grin, and even Scully asked me what was going on.  I don't remember
what I told her, but it must have been unremarkable enough that she let me get
by.


 At first, everything was okay.  I mean, sure, I was a little nervous, and
probably talked too much on the way there, but we stopped and got popcorn and
sodas and other munchies.  It kind of broke the ice, ragging each other about
our favorite junk food, and that made things easier once we got there.
 
 Mothra was first.  It was a scream....we talked pretty animatedly through the
first part of it, real MST3K stuff, and then settled back.  At intermission,
we both went into the concession stand and got hotdogs and nachos.  Typical
drive in fare.
 
 I'm surprised we didn't get food poisoning, but it went down and stayed down
and even tasted like what I remember as a kid.
 
 And then, in the middle of Godzilla, the sound went out.
 
 I thumped the sound box, but no go.  Finally turned to Pendrell and shrugged
helplessly.  "I guess we know why this place is closing."
 
 Pendrell chuckled, then nodded at the looming screen where Godzilla continued
to cavort.  "Well, it's not for lack of good seats."  
 
 We looked at the screen at the same time.  It was true.  You could certainly
see well, no problem watching Godzilla terrorize Tokyo.
 
 But I became aware of the faint scent of whatever cologne or shampoo Pendrell
had worn.  And remembered him touching me.  And my mouth went dry as I
realized what the fuck I was feeling.
 
 Not just friendship.  Not just buddies.  
 
 But that was a part of it.  A lot of it.  Desire had just entered the
equation, though, and it was scaring me to death.
 
 He was pretty young, I knew that.  And he was shy.  And he liked me.  I
didn't want to risk that.  Didn't want to risk that affection that I'd seen
the day he'd touched my cheek.
 
 I was so nervous, I started babbling as I dug into the popcorn again.  I
heard the popcorn bag rustle.  "You know, I remember coming here, in the
seventies, with my family.  Some awful Disney dreck was always on the
 menu, when I wanted to see "Don't Look In The Basement."  Couldn't though,
because of my sister.  She was about half my age."
 
 I glanced at him.  He had looked over, those eyes so wide.   I swear, I could
smell his skin...
 
 I took a hasty sip of my drink.  "We'd get to sit up front, Sam and I,
fighting who'd get to sit behind the wheel.  My parents sitting in the back,
silent, never even yelling at us as we fought.  Even when we got louder than
the movie itself.  They ... just didn't seem to notice."
 
 Godzilla turned toward the sea.  
 
 "After ... after..."  After what?  After Sam was taken.  It was hard to say
the words.  Godzilla wasn't doing so hot.  A stumble.  A near fall, but he
trodded onward. " ... after a while I refused to go anymore.  Until I started
dating.  God, was it that long ago I was dating?  I guess it was."
Remembering summer nights, fifteen years old, dry mouth, shaking hands and
kisses that were still innocent.  Drowning my guilt in the back seat of my
friend Jake's car.  I saw him nod out of the corner of my eye.  Babbled
onward.  "It was so great back then.  I hate to say it, it's the worst cliche
in the book, but God it was good.  The car would be filled with this ... this
 electricity you couldn't quite define.  I was never sure how far I'd get, or
what would happen, but it seemed like anything could happen."  Christ. Like
right now.  I was already half-hard, the air was hard to drag into my lungs.
I wondered what he'd do if I touched him.   "The whole thing was amazing.
This warm body in the seat next to you, willingly trapped there with you, in
this cocoon of leather and cushions, with warm air blowing over you in the
winter, or fresh air in the summer, and you'd feel so alone and safe.  The
outside world would literally disappear, and after a while you'd want them so
badly, you'd be ready to promise them anything if they'd just let you touch
them.  Kiss them."
 
 I saw him nod again.  Couldn't stop myself...... "It wasn't even about
fucking them, no, it was all about just being there with this other person,
wrapping yourselves up within them and wanting them, but at the same being
unable to have them.  Only being able to reach certain spots, as you kissed
them."  God, it was hot in here.  The windows were starting to fog up, I could
swear they were.  Or maybe my vision was just blurred.
 
 "Only being able to slide a hand so far up their shirt, or between their
legs, through their jeans, kissing the whole time, barely able to come up for
air.  You'd be drowning in kisses and frustration and it would be better than
anything you'd dreamed of."
 
 I brushed my hand against the leather of the seat, wishing it was his skin.
I was losing my mind and I couldn't shut up.  "And it would get so hot, the
windows would fog and steam and you'd feel even safer, more daring.  You still
couldn't get anywhere, but you'd both be wild by now, almost coming in your
pants, but still ... still you'd be so far off. 
 
 Insanity.  I touched his leg lightly, feeling the fabric of his trousers.
"Sometimes you'd make it to the back seat, or you'd get inventive, and get
your mouth around something besides their lips.  But, you'd miss them, miss
the sweetness, and so it would start again."
 
 I really had lost my mind, I shifted my hand up his thigh, knowing what I was
going to do, hating myself, needing him so badly.  To touch him.....
 
 God, he leaned forward slightly, face turned up.  And I lost it completely, I
kissed him.  Long and sweet and slow and he didn't pull back or flinch, he let
me kiss him, my tongue just barely tasting him, I didn't want to scare the
hell out of him. But his mouth was so luscious.
 
 And he moaned, tried to pull me closer.
 
 I somehow adjusted the car seat, pulled him into my arms, hell, I practically
put my tongue down his throat. 
 
 And hell if it wasn't like being a kid again, both of us so frantic we could
hardly bear to pull away from each other.  Oh, God, it felt so good, I was so
hard, I was afraid that rubbing against him would be the end of
 me.....
 
 It was paradise and I was selfish enough that the bumps and thwacks made no
impression even when I whacked my funny bone on the steering wheel.  I could
feel the heat of his skin through his clothes, I could fee how hard he was for
me.....
 
 I wanted him naked, I wanted to plunder him, but I was afraid, it seemed like
being allowed this much was a gift I couldn't turn down.....
 
 But I licked and nipped and kissed every place I could reach.
 
 Until the lights went out.

 It took several more minutes for me to realize that the drive in had gone
dark.  And when I did, I jerked back, almost panting, stone hard in my
trousers and my lips felt puffy from kissing, chafed from his beard stubble.
Hot.  My nipples felt  almost....oversensitive, trapped under expensive
cotton.
 
 My balls were going to hurt later.  If I didn't do something about it.  But
I'd have to do it myself, I could see his face, just a pale smudge in  the
darkness.  I could hear him gasping, and as my eyes adjusted, I saw  how puffy
his mouth was, how dazed he looked.
 
 Christ, it was like child molestation.  I touched him, touched his cheek,
nearly moaned out loud.  I'd gotten half his buttons underone, I could see
where his undershirt was rucked up and throbbed hard, just looking at it. I
could see his arousal, tenting those expensive trousers......and wanted to
dive down and open them, free him, Jesus, and devour him.
 
 But I couldn't, Christ, I couldn't.  So I said what is inarguably the
stupidest thing on record. "Well..." 
 
 "Well..." he replied.  Still short of breath. 
 
 "Godzilla, is... over,"   I told him, pointing at the black screen.  
 
 "Yeah, it's... over."
 
 I couldn't figure out what had happened to my car keys.  I couldn't figure
out what had happened to my mind.  Or my ethics.  I patted myself jacket for
the car keys.  "Guess, we should go before, um..."   Before I ravished
 him completely, popped those buttons and draped myself over that compact,
naked body.
 
 "Yes.  Before, uh..."  he agreed. 
 
 I began  to feel around for the car keys on the seat.   No go.  Christ,
where were they?  I patted the seat down, reached down on either side,  leaned
down to see if I'd dropped them on the car floor. Heard him make a
 frustrated noise and watched as he bent over to search the car floor.  "Damn
it."
 
 He tried to help me search, looked down on the passenger side of the car, no
luck.  And then suddenly, I heard a jingle, glanced over to find him holding
the keys out to me. 
 
 They were still warm. "Thanks," I muttered and put them in the ignition. 
 
 The engine turned over on the first try.   Thank God.  I wouldn't be stuck
here dying to undress him, afraid of hurting him or scaring him.
 
 So why did it hurt to pull out onto the highway?  Damned if I knew.  I looked
over at him, scared to death.  Trying to check his frame of mind. Had I ruined
our friendship?  "Great way to watch a movie, huh?" 
 
 He nodded, looking dazed. Somewhat desperately.  "Yeah.  It was
an...experience, all right."
 
 Too ambiguous.  I wasn't sure how he felt.  And I felt sick.  "Yeah, it was.
" 
 
 We didn't exchange another word the rest of the way home and I let him get
out without touching him again.
 
 Managed a smile, a wave.  So sick at heart. 
 
 It didn't stop me from taking care of business at home, lying on the couch,
eyes closed, my hand wrapped firmly around myself and imagining I was touching
him, licking him.  Ashamed, and so aroused.
  
========

 I wasn't sure how to act the next morning.  Except to avoid the lab.
 
 To my relief, Scully went out to Quantico and failed to notice the hickey on
the side of my neck before leaving.  It also meant I could pursue the hint of
a case on my own.....
 
 Which led me down paths I'd rather not go into, but led to my having an
unpleasant collision with a moving vehicle.  
 
 That night.  Long day.  
 
 I kept thinking about Pendrell.  It was nuts.  He was a kid.  I was old and
cynical.  He was innocent.  I was so grey that you could almost not see me in
the dark.  But there was something about him that made me hope
 again.  Made me think that anything was possible.  Sitting stakeout and
thinking about him did more than just arouse me.  In between hot images of
pouncing on him, I found myself daydreaming about having breakfast
 together, straightening his tie, hearing him rag on mine.....
 
 Which was ridiculous.  Let's face it, I'm not the most lovable human being.
Even Scully's gotten to the point where she tolerates me instead of actually
liking me or being fond of me.
 
 There was something about Pendrell, though.  Something....something amazing.
It made me forget I was jaded and cynical and had no heart.
 
 I did have a heart.  And it was misbehaving badly.
 
 For one moment, I nearly considering whacking off, but that was just
remembering the feel of him underneath me while we wrestled and necked in my
car.
 
 I wished he was there.
 
 And then the perp showed up and I jerked my brain back up above my waist and
ended up dancing a tango with his SUV.
 
 Well, I had to go to the lab.  Of course.
 
 Against all my better judgement.  And then he was, working late, the only one
left.  Pendrell.  Brian.  
 
 "Hey."  I said it softly.  Forgetting that I was beat to shit.
 
 He whirled around, startled, and I could have kicked myself for startling
him.  His jaw dropped for a moment as he stared at me, but then he lifted his
chin, going into professional mode.  Checking me for injuries.  I wanted to
fall on my knees at his feet and rest my face on him.  "What happened?  Do you
need medical attention?"
 
 I shook his head.  Laughed weakly, more or less.  "No, no.  It looks a lot
worse than it
 is.  I just danced with the wrong side of a perp's SUV."
 
 Stubborn look.  "In that case, you should be in the emergency room." 
 
 I shook my head.  "No.  This is the only emergency room I need right now,"  I
told him and handed him the vial filled with what I'd gotten from the crime
scene.  Missing people, no bodies, but if this was blood, and the
 right type.....wham.  We had him.  "I need this analyzed.  Now.  Please. It's
important, more important than I can explain."
 
 He hesitated, frowning at me.  Finally gave in, sighing.  "Okay," going back
behind his desk and pulling out a bunch of slides and trays, "But after this
is done, I'm taking a look at those bruises.  No arguments."
 
 I smiled carefully, winced at the split in my lip, and nodded.  "No
arguments."
 
 It took an hour.  It was the right type. Now I just needed the DNA testing,
and damned if Pendrell didn't get all the paperwork filled out for me.  A
saint, I'm telling you.  
 
 Then, while I beamed at the paperwork, he grabbed my arm and dragged me
toward a supply room.  He seemed to know where everything was, but he also
seemed to think my injuries were far worse than they were.  I had to chuckle
as he gathered things up and dropped half of them on the floor, so damned
serious.
 
 "In college, I was a volunteer paramedic," he told me softly, opening
packets.  "I had dreams of medical school, but got lucky, Professor Finch
steered me in the direction of forensics.  But I still know enough about minor
injuries."  Stern look, but I kept my mouth shut.  Just smiled at him.  Let
him do his work.
 
 But I could smell his skin, just the faintest tang of the day's sweat, fading
cologne, the shampoo he'd used in the morning on his hair, and the acrid smell
of the alcohol he was using to clean my scrapes.  I couldn't stand it, all my
daydreams came back to life with attendant fireworks and before I knew it, I
brushed my fingertips over his cheekbone.  My hand was shaking a little, I
touched his chin.  Bastard that I am, I even touched his lower lip.
 
 He went tense.  "We probably shouldn't."   Unhappy look, a gasp.  "I mean
right here or, I mean..."
 
 I shook my head.  So damned tired, and sad and wanting him so much.  "No, we
probably shouldn't," I answered, leaning in and brushing his lips against
mine.  God, he even tasted good.  I drew back a little, examined his face.
Terror and desire, just as clear as mine felt.  "But I can't resist."
 
 This time, he kissed me back.  Oh, Christ, it was good, he felt so good
against me, his mouth as hungry as mine, his arms around me, careful of my
bruises.  Oh, God, he tasted good.  His fingers threaded through my hair,
keeping me close, and I was as hard as a rock, just from kissing him, from
smelling him, from wanting him.   "Brian," I whispered, greatly daring,
"Brian, Brian, Brian," and stroked my tongue into his mouth.
 
 We held each other up, I don't know how.  He started to babble, god, it set
me on fire, how much he wanted me, how crazy I was making him, did I know what
I was doing to him, and I stroked my palm up his thigh, half
 afraid to do more, just kissing him harder and hungrier.
 
 He seemed to want to slide down, I held on to him, although the idea of his
mouth on me was enough to induce semi-consciousness.   I was glad I was
wearing jeans, because I could feel myself leaking, dripping with desire--and
who says only women get wet--I rubbed my palm against the swollen shape under
the zipper of his trousers, and let me tell you, for a compact guy, Brian
Pendrell had been graced with quite a gift in terms of
 his personal endowment.
 
 And suddenly, cold sanity struck.  I stopped teasing him, held him. Rocking
him against my chest.  "Shhhhh," I whispered, wanting him so badly I could
scream.  "I know, I know, you taste so good, Brian, but not here. It can be so
much better if we do this somewhere else.  And a helluva lot safer, too."
 
 I heard him curse softly under my breath, but he nodded.  
 
 No matter what Hoover may or may not have done, carrying on a sexual
rendezvous in a supply room wasn't the most discreet behavior.  We could both
get fired, suspended, the whole nine yards.
 
 Besides, I was feeling romantic.  
 
 Pendrell sighed.  "Okay."  Whispered.
 
 Dinner.  Candelight.  Make the first time with him something really special.
My cooking would spoil it, but hell, there was always deli stuff.  Something
good.  And some wine.  I cupped his cheek.  "Tomorrow." A promise.  I leaned
in and kissed his cheek gently.  "Tomorrow."
 
 That gave him time to back out if he wanted to.  But looking into his eyes, I
felt a wave of exhilaration--I didn't think he'd want to.
 
 "Tomorrow," he sighed, picked up a bandaid and put in carefully over one of
the bigger scrapes on my knucks.  Considered it for a moment, and then drew my
hand to his lips to kiss it.  
 
 I nearly fell down.  Nearly whimpered.  Oh, God, I thought, you're finally
getting lucky, you bastard, don't screw this one up.
 
 Kissed him again, as gently as I could.  And left before I did something
more.

 Scully was still at Quantico the next day.  Which left me free to pursue the
man I thought responsible for the disappearances of several young women.
Contrary to popular opinion, I'm not always chasing aliens, and I was mad as
hell that VCS hadn't pursued the hell out of this one.  So I staked him out
again.....
 
 Different car, I took one out from the Bureau car pool, wore a baseball cap.
 
 He came out, got in his SUV and I followed.  And followed.  And followed.
Down to Richmond's warehouse district.
 
 I started getting a little nervous around four, when he hadn't re-emerged. I
wished I had a warrant, I'd be in that warehouse faster than Skinner could
scowl.  When he hadn't re-emerged by six, I got antsy and nervous, not the
least of which was my plan to see Pendrell.  This was starting to make me
nervous AND piss me off.
 
 So I got out of the car, crept up to the warehouse.  Scary bastard, warrant
or no warrant, I checked, saw him moving around a room, just the top of his
head and his forehead.  Waited outside, surreptitiously calling a contact on
the Richmond PD.  He was supposed to get me a warrant and get some backup down
there.
 
 But it took too long, he came out and I knew he was going after someone. That
he was going to take someone.  So, I took him on......
 
 Big mistake.  Rule number one:  no matter what your hand to hand instructor
at Quantico tells you, going up against two-twentyfive and 6' 4" is about as
effective as me throwing a punch at Skinner.  I ended up in a headlock that
time.  I ended up getting dragged by the fucker's vehicle, trying to get a
bead on his midsection and hanging on for dear life.
 
 My cellphone fell out of my pocket somewhere in there and got run over.
Wyatt, my contact, found it right after they got me unhooked from the door,
right after narrowly missing me in the unmarked police car, as I was swinging
wide on the rear driver's side door.
 
 Don't ask.
 
 It wasn't pretty.
 
 Wyatt insisted on taking me to the emergency room, even though I kept telling
him I was fine, and never let me alone long enough to use a telephone.  I
started feeling sicker and sicker as the clock ticked, and besides that, I was
in fucking Richmond, which wasn't exactly around the corner from the Hoover.
By the time I got done giving my statement to a really pissed off Chief of
Detectives, it was the wee small hours of the morning.  I got in that damned
pool car and drove back to DC.  Not even hurrying.
 
 Hell, despite my best intentions, I'd stood him up.  The best thing I could
hope for was that he'd let me apologize.  Once in the city, I stopped and
tried to call him at home.  No answer.
 
 I wouldn't have answered me, either, but I suddenly thought, he might be at
the gym.  Just a thought, like an intuition.
 
 And he was in the pool.  Swimming doggedly--swimming with a stroke that was
nearly perfect.  
 
 God, my throat hurt watching him.  He swam and turned smoothly, that was two,
swam four more laps.  Steadily.  Damned good for a kid who had been barely
surviving in the water when we started meeting.  My throat definitely hurt.
But I could still apologize, no matter how badly I'd fucked it up.
 
 He came to a stop and looked up, shaking his head and wiping a hand over his
eyes.   Saw me.  
 
 His expression went.....still.  Kind of closed off, I thought.
 
 "Nice form there, Bri," I whispered.  Coughed to clear my throat. Cowardice
wasn't the way to handle it, I told myself.  Blinked hard.
 
 I crouched down, but I couldn't meet those blue eyes.  I was afraid to meet
them.  He was so close, I wanted to reach out and touch him, but I didn't
deserve that.  He deserved better.  "It appears that I have," I began
hoarsely, "a really skewed sense of perspective.  When I'm feeling good,
feeling lucky, I sort of figure I'd be able to take down a few perps, a few
conspiracies and still get home in time for a much happier reality.  That's my
real tragedy.  My eternal optimism."
 
 I still didn't dare look at him.  But I pulled out the mangled remains of my
cell phone.   Held it up, still looking just over his shoulder, when I  wasn't
looking at what was left of my phone. "I tried," and my damned  voice cracked
slightly, "I did.  But, it was D.U.T."
 
 "D.U.T.?"  Gentle voice, not angry.  
 
 God, he deserved to be angry.  Don't be nice to me, I thought, please don't
be nice to me, I'd lose it right here.  "Dead Under the Tire, it went downhill
from there."  Hoarsely.  And then I finally met his gaze.
 
 Such blue eyes.  And who would know that blue eyes could be so warm, so kind?
I couldn't help staring at him, drinking him in.  You nearly made it, I told
myself unhappily, but your goddamned obsessiveness fucked it over again.  He
didn't say anything out loud and neither did I.  Finally, I got up, careful of
my hip and other assorted bashed places.  Managed a smile of sorts.  "I'm
serious though.  Your stroke has improved.  It's as good as any I've seen."  
  
 He blinked at me.  "Well," quietly, "I have a great Coach.  If it wasn't for
him, I'd still be floundering around, feeling like a fool every minute."  He
looked up at me, wide eyes.   "And if he'd be willing to stick around, even if
just for today, I think that would make me very happy."
 
 It was like a punch in the gut. Only much more pleasant.  I stared at him in
disbelief.  Happy disbelief, if that makes sense.  "Are you sure?" I breathed.
 
 "Yeah, I'm sure.  At least I think I'm sure." he  smiled, shrugged, but kept
smiling.  "I mean, I probably shouldn't, but you  know the saying."
 
 I felt thick headed and slow.  "No, what saying?"
 
 "Sometimes, you just can't resist." He suddenly dove under the water.
Surfaced by the ladder and pulled himself out.  I was still staring stupidly
at him.  He grabbed his towel, glanced around and came over, took
 hold of my hand and squeezed it.  "I'll be by my car in ten minutes," he
whispered, "It's Saturday, and I think I need a day off.  How about you?"
 
 I nodded.  Completely and gloriously dazed.  "I definitely need a day off."
 
 "Good." Crisp voice.  "See you in ten."  And then an unmistakable warning
look.  
 
 He....was incredible, giving me another chance.  I felt my mouth curve,
wanted to shout at the top of my lungs, which is another thing probably not
done here.  "Yes, definitely.  In ten."
 

The drive back to Pendrell's apartment took twenty minutes.   I was so tired,
I was useless, I didn't do anything but look at him.  He took my hand halfway
there and gave me one of those boyish, incandescent smiles, laced our fingers
together. 

I was sure I was dreaming.  I didn't dare move, frankly, because I was afraid
he'd remember that he had every right to be totally pissed off at me.  Either
for trying to seduce him or standing him up, and it's a measure of how tired I
was that I couldn't decide which was more likely.

I swear, he nearly dragged me out of the car.  Tugged me into the elevator and
kissed me.   I wanted to drop to my knees and.....well, never mind.  We had
our arms around each other until it hit his floor.  And then, he all but
dragged me down the hallway, unlocked his door, yanked me through and slammed
it behind me.  Plastered me up against the wall, leaned up tall and kissed me
again.  And again.  And again.

Nothing is better than a man who knows what he wants. 

Well, yes there is.  A man who will forgive you.  Wow.

I was still dazed enough I don't remember how we made it to the shower.  Not
that I'm complaining, mind you, I got a lot of kisses on the way.  I think.
And he helped me undress, which was good, and then undressed himself, which
was better.  

I was right about his having been gifted by God.  Heh.

And God, that man knew how to kiss, knew how to.....hell if I know how to
describe it.  Lots of little kisses and soap and lather and more kisses.  God,
the water was hot, he was hot, hotter, hottest.  I was drowning in his mouth,
drinking him in, and it was perfect, so sweet, so strong, and I wanted to eat
him up.  I'm taller than him, but somehow, everything seemed to fit just
perfectly.

He was so hard and perfect, pressed against me, I couldn't stop kissing him, I
moaned into his mouth and whimpered when he pulled away.  But he dropped to
his knees in front of me and my knees were wobbling so badly I had to lean
back.   Oh, Christ, I nearly fell when he took me into his mouth, deep and hot
and incredible, and I knew there was no way I was going to make it for very
long.  His hand cupped my balls, gently caressing them, and I felt like he'd
swallowed me whole and I tried to warn him, but he wasn't having any of it, he
kept working me and I simply exploded, crying out low.

And then, when he released me, I fell to my knees and devoured his mouth,
tasting myself, arms wrapped around him and holding him close.  I slid my hand
down his belly and closed my fingers around him, groaned into his mouth. He
gasped and I stroked him, stroked him hard and ruthlessly, nipped at his mouth
and jaw, trying to watch his face.  

Ecstasy is beautiful.  

He came for me, crying out, and then leaned against me.  The water was turning
cool, I managed somehow to get to my feet, bruises or not, and helped him up.
Stepped out of the shower stall and wrapped a towel around him, not an easy
thing to do since he was trying to do the same to me.  God, so sweet.

So perfect.  

And if I hadn't been fucking exhausted, I'd have jumped him.  But he wasn't
having any of it, he led me back into the bedroom, I swear, tucked me in like
a kid and let me wrap myself around him.  He smelled and tasted so damn good,
but I was gone before he pulled the blankets over us.

I woke later.  The sun was slanting under the blinds, it was obviously late
afternoon, and he was still in my arms.  Still smelled good enough to eat, and
I nibbled, nuzzled the back of his neck, stroked his thigh.  Just learning
what he felt like to touch.  His belly, his hip, although his ass was pressed
up against me and I was hard against him, pressed into the cleft.  It didn't
seem fair, somehow, that I was hard and he wasn't, so I reached between his
thighs, just....just exploring him.

He was playing possum, he pounced on me.  Never was a man more happy to be
pounced on, either.

He kissed me greedily, and God, that turned me on, feeling that he needed as
much as I did.  I had to laugh, he's a thorough little bugger, he started an
exploration of his own, things we hadn't taken time for in the shower or
anywhere else.  God, what he did to my nipples, I thought I was on fire, and
who would have known that I could count the inside of my elbow or the inside
of my thigh were erogenous zones?  He moved all over me, finding places I
hadn't known existed.  Scientific focus and experimentation, but there wasn't
a damned thing detached about it.

He was like a kid in a candy store and I was the candy.   Only thing was, he
was driving me insane.  So I turned the tables on him.  "Enough, it's your
turn."

He blinked up at me.  "Yes sir."  Very small smile.

So it was his turn to moan and wriggle and beg, and I tasted every goddamned
inch of him.   Learned him.  Found out what made him whimper, what made him
chuckle, what made him beg.  So goddamned hot, and he was mine.  

I hoped.

I managed to keep my eyes on his face, watching him, while I swallowed him
down and sucked him hard and fast.  God, the feel of him in my mouth and
throat, the taste of him.  I wanted it to be good for him, I wanted to be so
good to him.   He arched and moaned and put his fingers in my hair, tugged
gently.  And when he came, he nearly screamed, a gasping sort of sound.

And then I gentled my mouth, careful with him.  Moved up to cradle him in my
arms, to watch him recover, to come back from the edge of passion.  He smiled
slowly and his eyes focused on me.  I blushed.  Kissed him and ran my fingers
through his hair.  The sunlight touched it--not just one color of red, but all
colors.  Reddish blond, red, light brown, even a kind of gilt color, and I
told him what I saw, marveling at it.  I moved back over him again, finding
small childhood scars, hungry to know him, asking him and not minding if he
laughed at me.  I kissed freckles, stitching them together with my lips.

He was languid for me, lazy, accepting this worship and I forgot to be
selfconscious, just ate him up, loving it.  And then, oh, Christ, he came back
to life and he'd learned a lot of whatever he needed, no hesitation and he
made love to me like I was going to vanish if he didn't.

Long and slow and hot and I thought the top of my head was going to come off.

We didn't even bother to take a shower after that, just curled around each
other, too boneless from satisfaction to move out of the bed.  I slept
dreamlessly, no insomnia, no dreams, just the occasional surfacing to a
consciousness of his shape and heft in my arms.

God, I think it must have been around eleven when I woke.  Long hard week for
both of us, I guess.   I rolled over to watch him sleep for a while, just
enjoying the sight of him.  Finally, reluctantly, I got out of bed and made it
to the bathroom, took a quick shower.  Gathered up my scattered clothes and
put them on, found my shoes.  

Planning in my head.  I wanted to give him some space, not scare him off.  But
I wanted him.  And I didn't just want him for one day, or just in bed.

Sitting down on the bed, I put my hand on his shoulders, shook him very
gently.  

"I've got to get back to question my perp," I told him softly, "I really have
to go."

I could see it in his eyes, the kind of hurt that meant he didn't understand
what I meant.  He coughed, leaning up on one elbow, a bad and endearing case
of bed hair, and his eyes puffy from sleep.  I wanted to scoop him back up and
fuck booking the bastard we'd arrested last night.  

But I couldn't.

My chest hurt.  I leaned down and kissed his forehead gently.  "Tonight," I
whispered, bending down to kiss his forehead.  "Tonight, if you'd like to join
me,  I have something I'd like to show you."

He nodded again. "What?"he asked, hopeful voice.

I nibbled on his ear, wanting him.  Wanting him so goddamned much.  "The
backstroke," I whispered and shivered at the thought.  "I think you're ready
for it.  And then you can practice again later with me.  After dinner. I have
a waterbed, you know."

He gasped, I laughed and got up to leave, seeing those blue eyes so wide and
stunned.  God, I couldn't resist, I kissed him again, hard.

"I hope you wanted to learn how the deep end works," I told him seriously.
Because I'd already fallen into it.  Smiled at him and left before my heart
could fuck over my job.

I just hoped he'd be there tonight.  Candelight.  Good food.  And Brian.

=======

fini