Honeymoon By: TBishop27@aol.com Rated: NC-17 Category: MSR,Lurid Fiction(Formerly known as smut) Disclaimer: This Mulder and Scully belong to Xenith. She's letting me borrow them while mine take a much needed rest. Chris would never let his Moose and Squirrel have this much fun. At least not with each other. Feedback: Please, I love to know what you think. Be warned, flames will be forwarded to that dark part of my writer's imagination that roams the night in search of victims. Summary: Umm... What two people do on their honeymoon. Author's Note: This is part of Xenith's Chicken Soup series, which is part of the Abattoir universe. It does not necessarily need to be read in conjunction with the others, but if you're into continuity in a big way, you can find all related fics at the websites listed below. At Xenith's request, I am again attempting to write a sequel worthy to be included in her Abattoir universe. This story directly follows The Wedding From Hell. **If you want more information on the Hotel where Mulder and Scully spent their honeymoon, check out the Web site for The Westin Salishan. I've stayed there many times and it's a wonderful place to relax and enjoy the Oregon coast. http://www.salishan.com/ Xenith's Stories: http://members.xoom.com/merlin717/index.html Other Abattoir stories are at: www.xenith.freeservers.com/abattoir.html My Stories: http://members.xoom.com/arcticfox42/Tbishop.htm or try the mirror site http://tbishop.freeservers.com/ STORY RELATED WEBSITES!!!: See the wedding pictures at: www.xenith.freeservers.com/weddingfromhell.html *** Thanks to David, Shoshana and Shell for beta. To the Mistress of Angst herself,Xenith for all her help and inspiration. To Spygirl, Mistress of the Stars, for the astrological consult that persuaded Xenith to let me play with her Scully this way. And to Webmistress Grasshopper for keeping up the archive. HONEYMOON "It's raining, Mulder." Scully crosses her arms over her chest and gives me a look somewhere between a pout and a frown. "It's always raining, Scully, this is Oregon." The steady drizzle has been with us since touchdown at PDX, and even the promise of a rental car upgrade hasn't mollified my wife's sour mood. Wife. God, I still can't get used to that. Scully is my wife. As in 'till death do us part,' which incidentally is what almost happened just hours after we took those vows. Better to not relive the wedding from hell. I force myself to think about our destination instead. The Westin Salishan, Gleneden Beach, Oregon. I've never been there, but the travel agent assured me it's a very romantic hideaway for newlyweds. The 'hideaway' part was especially appealing after our most recent adventure. She also promised me this place would be free of champagne glass Jacuzzis, heart shaped bathtubs, and round beds with mirrors on the ceiling. I just couldn't do that to Scully. I want this to be a vacation she'll never forget, and not because it's one more horrible chapter in the nightmare of our lives. Not many people would venture to the Oregon coast at the end of December. It's cold, it's wet, and you really don't want to be out in that icy wind. Of course, who want's to go out? This is our honeymoon after all. Deluxe accommodations, a view of the ocean, and five star room service is all that's required in my book. For sentimental reasons I chose Oregon to mark the beginning of our new life together. It being the place where our partnership really began. I'm not sure Scully is necessarily as sentimental as I am. She kept shoving cruise brochures in my face when I was planning this little escape. She had to be kidding. I've seen 'Titanic'... I can only imagine what fate would befall the Spookys if they were to step foot on a luxury cruise ship. Besides, I haven't gotten over that trip to the Bermuda Triangle yet. And I don't mind the rain. Actually, I've heard the Oregon coast is famous for its winter storms. We'll be snuggling up in front of the fire and watching the waves break over the rocky shore as we sip Northwest Pinot Noir and make honeymoon memories that will have us both smiling for years to come. "Mulder, how much further is it to the hotel?" She's so impatient. "What's the matter, honey? Can't wait?" I offer her a devilish grin. "I can pull the car over for a quickie if you'd like. It's not the 'Stang, but the back-seat looks roomy enough." She blushes. "No thank you. I can wait, HONEY. I'm just curious to see the destination you've chosen for our getaway. So far, Mulder, I have to tell you, I'm not terribly impressed." "You didn't like Portland, Scully? The city of roses? We'll have to come back in the spring when the sun comes out and the rose gardens are in full bloom." She sighs. "Couldn't we have gone somewhere tropical? Hawaii is nice this time of year." "You know how you burn. I'm not spending my honeymoon smelling Noxema and hearing you hiss every time I touch you." We haven't had many cases in sunny locales, but I quickly learned that this fair skinned woman has no business soaking up rays. She gives me her patient look. The one that tells me I'd better quit while I'm ahead. "It's not much further, Scully. Maybe another ten miles or so. Try to enjoy the scenery." ----------------------------------------------------- My husband is the most brilliant man that ever lived! This place is fabulous! Nestled into the fir and pine covered Oregon hillside, row upon row of wonderful bungalow lodges. Ours is a honeymoon suite of course. We have a sleeping loft with a very comfortable king-sized bed complete with feather pillows, and a few steps below that is a living room with a fireplace, sofa and love seat, and a large coffee table. There's a balcony with a spectacular view of the bay, Salishan spit and Pacific Ocean beyond. And the way these rooms are arranged, each one is completely private from the next. It gives the illusion that we are totally isolated. Just me and Mulder, alone in our private paradise. The paneled walls have a nice selection of local art, and the air is scented with sandalwood. They must pipe it in though the ventilation. An inviting basket of fresh fruits and Northwest delicacies awaited us upon our arrival, along with a bottle of champagne and two lovely etched flutes. There is a note attached. Welcome to the Mulders' from the staff of The Westin Salishan. They've thought of everything. The fireplace is even ready to light. Mulder immediately takes it to task, and soon we are enjoying the crackle of a roaring blaze. I could get used to this. These accommodations are nothing like the dives we have to stay in when the Bureau is footing the bill. This place is first class all the way. It's so cozy and relaxing, I don't even mind the rain outside anymore. Sighing, I settle in on the sofa, tucking my stocking feet up underneath me while I watch Mulder deftly divest the champagne bottle of its cork. It concedes with a loud pop, and Mulder grins at his conquest. He fills the flutes and sits down beside me, handing me a glass. Before we sip he offers a toast. "To my wife, whose incredible beauty is only matched by her courage and intellect." "Laying it on pretty thick there, aren't you, Mulder?" I tell him, smiling over the rim of my glass, the jumping bubbles from the champagne tickling my nose. "Well, I'm hoping to get lucky. I figure a little shameless flattery can't hurt." He takes a long drink, and I watch his Adam's apple move up and down as he swallows. My eyes worry a minute over the new scar on the side of his neck. I promised myself I wouldn't think about what nearly happened. The fact that I almost lost my husband on our wedding day. This is a time to celebrate. I force myself not to dwell over past miseries. He looks so handsome in his navy V-neck sweater and faded Calvin Kleins. We've been married for almost two weeks and I still can't believe he's really mine. Our eyes meet and the connection is charged with a live current of sexual energy that has me wanting him and unable to think of anything else. By the way he suddenly shifts in his seat, I can tell those snug fitting jeans just got a little tighter. "You want to try out the bed, Mulder?" One of the advantages of being his wife, I can make these suggestions without the slightest bit of my Catholic guilt getting in the way. I'm taken completely by surprise with his reply. "Not just yet, Scully." My eyebrows ask the question. "I just want to unwind a little first. I promise we'll get to the bed." He did marry a doctor. I have to ask. "Are you feeling all right?" It hasn't been that long since he was discharged from the hospital. He was so stubborn about leaving all his pain meds at home. "I'm fine, Scully." A satisfied grin plays on his face at this mockery. Bastard! Okay, it was a long flight, and he did drive all the way from Portland to the coast, almost a two and a half hour trip... in the rain. I guess a little champagne and snuggling to ease his tension isn't such a bad idea. ----------------------------------------------------- Scully is chomping at the bit. I want her too, but I think I'll make her wait just a little longer... I like seeing how worked up she gets. And I know what champagne does to her. Nothing like a bit of bubbly to make Scully's libido an inhibition free zone. She'll be a wild seductress before we get to the bottom of the bottle. Somewhere into her third glass, Scully starts grinning, and looking me over like I was covered in chocolate sauce. Hmm... Maybe we could try that later. I respond to her lustful stare with one of my own. Well, I think I've made her wait just about long enough. But when I move to kiss her she pulls back. "What?" I ask. There is mischief dancing in her blue eyes and it's erotic as hell. "Mulderrr..." she purrs, and my cock twitches in response to her sultry timbre. "I want to give you your wedding present now." Hell, she can do anything she wants when she uses that voice. Maybe the fire wasn't such a good idea after all... Jesus, it's hot in here. "So what's my present?" "It's something very personal, Mulder. Something I wouldn't share with anybody but you. It's a secret about myself... a fantasy." Did I just whimper? The way she says 'fantasy' sends a shiver right through me. "For years I've had this secret desire, Mulder. This reverie that used to occupy my lonely nights. I would lay in bed and dream... envision that I was the star of one of those videos you like to watch so much." I think my heart just stopped. "I imagined myself one of those women you find so fascinating. I can do the things they can do you know." "Oh, God, Scully, I know you can." The tip of one perfect fingernail traces over my lips, then she brings it back to her own mouth and sucks it seductively. Her tongue teases me, making love to that delicate finger, while I draw upon crystal clear memories of the magic she's worked in the past. "Have you ever imagined me like that? One of the stars of those triple X videos you watch? When I was in college, my premed schedule wouldn't allow for me to be in the theater classes, but I always attended the performances, and I always had dreams of being an actress." "You, Scully? An actress?" I consider this a minute. She does an English accent that isn't half bad... And she does a damn fine job of pretending she's fine when she's anything but. Still, it's difficult to see her as anything but the levelheaded scientist I've come to know and love. "That surprises you, does it?" "Well, yeah, it does, actually. I would have never guessed this about you. Thank you, Scully, thank you for sharing your secret with me." "There's more." Drinking down what's left in her glass, she frowns at the empty champagne bottle. "Dare I ask?" Laughing a bad girl laugh, she hops up from the couch. I'm about to follow, when she says, "Wait here." I wouldn't dream of not obeying her. She disappears only briefly around the corner by the closet. I hear the zip of a suitcase. "Close your eyes," she calls out to me a few minutes later. Without the use of my sight, I am more acutely aware of the delicate spicy scent of her perfume as she approaches and stands before me. There is something more to her redolence that drives my need to a throbbing ache. The unique bouquet of her arousal makes my hunger for her almost unbearable. "Okay, Mulder. You can open your eyes now." I do, and what's waiting for me makes me suddenly believe there's a God. Scully, my beautiful wife, adorned in what can only be described as lingerie designed by the devil himself. Sheer black lace clings to her curvaceous figure in the form of a teddy. Scully is a hot commodity regardless, but wrapped up in finery like this... damn! My eyes wander over her well toned body, stopping only when I see that she is holding something in her hand. Jesus Christ! A video camera. Scully hands it to me with a little uncertainty in her eyes. "I was thinking we could make that honeymoon video." Okay, I'll admit it, my wife has just shocked the hell out of me. She can't really be serious, can she? "Scully... really?" I choke out the words. "You want to help me act out my fantasy, don't you?" Now I know it's too hot in this room because I'm starting to sweat. When I made that joke to her while we were on undercover assignment out in California, I never imagined she would take me seriously. Hell, I never imagined we'd really be married someday. This is incredible. Scully wants to play porn star. She then proceeds to climb up on the coffee table and sit in a very suggestive pose. "You be the director, Mulder. I'll be the ingenue." Holy shit! Breathe. I have to remember to breathe. Who IS this woman? Champagne makes Scully less reserved, a little daring at times, but I've never seen her react like this before. "Mulder, are you blushing?" Am I? Oh, God! "A little, Scully... I guess, I mean... wow! Jeez, I would have never expected this." Her smile fades. "Does it make you uncomfortable?" "No! No, not at all, Scully. Really, this is great. I was just a little surprised... God, you look sexy." My brief moment of shyness is quickly forgotten when I notice the way Scully's nipples are calling out to me through that frilly threadwork. "So? You going to call action, Mr. Director, or is this just a rehearsal?" After a bit of nervous laughter, I decide to play along. "Hang on, sweetheart, while I get this shot set up." Okay, how does this damn camera work? My fumbling produces a giggle from my little screen star wanna be. "It's the big red button on the handle," she smirks. Already she's got this wife role down pat. A halfhearted glare is my reply. "Okay, Action!" I tell her not quite sure what to expect. The show she puts on is by far better than any triple X feature I've ever forgotten to return to the video store. She doesn't seem the least bit shy about performing for the camera. The way she's touching herself and moaning, I'm not sure how long it will be before I can't stand it anymore and have to fuck her. Her hands wander over the delicate lacework of her alluring lingerie, finding those rosebud pink nipples and giving them a squeeze. One hand continues to caress her breasts, while the other makes a leisurely journey down her flat belly and still farther to the beckoning V between her legs. She slips two fingers beneath the fancy fabric, and her head falls back with the pleasure of her touch. Amazed, I watch through the lens of the camera as she begins to indulge herself. Her legs open wider as she loses herself in the enjoyment she expertly provides. So enraptured in her exhibition, I have forgotten the purpose of camera as recording device. For me it has become a means for exploring her magnificent form. I let the camera pan up and down her body, capturing the image of my wife's erotic spirit. Before long she is writhing before me, laying across the table in those fuck me high heels of hers and that diaphanous lace. I'm sure that at this point the sound of my own heavy breathing and pounding heart is drowning her quiet mews and soft moans. When she brings herself off, her back arches up from the table, her cry of ecstasy fills the room, and I nearly drop the camera on the floor. That's it for me! I'm through playing voyeur. It's time to become part of this action feature. ----------------------------------------------------- The force and intensity with which my husband jumps me, severs the table legs with a crack, and we both go crashing to the floor. Although 170 pounds of Mulder landing atop my 104 pound frame is not the most pleasant experience I've ever had, I'm shaking with silent laughter as he's cursing his luck. He pushes his weight up on his hands and knees and looks down at me with concern. "Scully, honey, I'm sorry! Jesus, are you all right?" I wipe tears from my eyes and try to catch my breath. Maybe he did knock the wind out of me a little. All I can offer him at this time is a nod. "Shit! You're not all right." He struggles to his feet amongst the debris of the table and effortlessly lifts me up in his arms. I'm still fighting to regain my lost air, as he reaches for the phone to call for help. It's all I can do to grab his hand to stop him. "I... I'm... okay. I'm fine," I stammer. He looks doubtful, but puts the phone back on the receiver at my insistence. "Are you sure?" After a few deep breaths, I answer him. "Just got the wind knocked out of me... really, I'm fine." My smile brings relief to his face. His head drops onto my shoulder, and he releases a bit of laughter himself. "I'm sorry, Scully, I guess my enthusiasm got the better of me. It's your fault though, G-woman. If you weren't so damn arousing, I would have been able to control myself." "I like you out of control, Mulder. Don't ever hold back your passion with me." He moves to kiss me, and when I stop him his frustrated expression is precious. "The camera. I want to record us making love." There's no way I'm going to be a one woman show. I want my husband on this honeymoon video too. There's a look of uncertainty in his eyes, but he retrieves the camera from the sofa where he dropped it in his earlier excitement. He's shaking his head when he returns to the bed. "The damn thing was still running." "Oh, Mulder, do you think you got us breaking the table?" He shrugs. "We'll look at it later." He sets the camera on the ledge of the halfwall that separates the loft from the rest of the room. A moment later he joins me on the bed, carefully this time, taking me in his arms. As he kisses me, I help him wrestle out of his clothes. His hands roam over my body and he quickly divests me of my provocative sleepwear, preferring the feel of bare flesh beneath his fingers. When I try to kick off the shoes, he stops me. "Leave them on. Those stilts you wear have always made me crazy, Scully. I want to fuck you while you're wearing them." The demanding tone with which he says it, has me quivering in anticipation. I indulge his fantasy. There is no time wasted on foreplay. I'm already so hot and wet and ready for him that any more preamble would only be torturous. His steely length enters me with a single thrust, and I cry out as Mulder groans his approval. This is not a tender lovemaking session. We are both far too worked up to linger over gentle caresses and tender kissing. We devour each other, tongues dueling as our bodies couple with feverish zeal. Mulder brings my knees up over his shoulders, entering me so deeply I am clawing at the bedcovers in my helplessness and my rapture. Positioned like this, with him pounding into me, I feel the pulling burning tension as I build toward another climax. The feeling is so fierce and consuming, I pray to God Mulder doesn't come before I do. I want this so bad. "Scully..." I know it's a warning. I know that he's close. Damn it, I want this so bad... I need this so much... I... I... "Ooooh... God! God! God! Yesssss." I am soaring through heaven and upon hearing my impassioned cries, Mulder finds his own release. His body stills over mine and he spills his seed in me. Though I will never tell him this, there is always an element of sadness to our lovemaking for me. That moment when he gives what could have been life, except that my barren body offers no hope of conception. Even if I were to carry his child in my womb, it could never be a child of our own union. There was some question in my mind as to the viability of the ova Mulder so gallantly stole back for me. I had them tested, and my fears were confirmed. All the eggs were unusable. Mulder promised we'd find a way to have a family when we're ready to. Sometimes I wish I didn't know so much about medicine. The truth is, the odds are stacked against us. And even if we did manage a successful IVF with a donor egg, we'd never know what that green eyed-baby with the medium-size nose might have looked like. My heart aches for what will never be. Mulder's sex-darkened eyes search mine intently. He allows me to relax my position, to lie beneath his protective embrace. He's studying me, no doubt trying to figure out what has caused this brief moment of melancholy after such a vigorous and enjoyable encounter. I feel guilty for not telling him, but I will not have him sharing my grief each time we make love. I force a smile that he returns tentatively. "You don't look happy. Was I that bad?" Is he kidding? I shake my head. "It's nothing. I'm fine." "Your my wife now, Scully, are you ever going to stop playing that game with me and just tell me what's bothering you when I ask?" "We'll talk about it another time." "Why not now?" "I don't want to, Mulder..." The look in his eyes tells me I've hurt him with my refusal. Damn it! Why can't this man ever accept that all feelings are not meant to be shared? With a sigh, I relent and confess my suffering. Better to expose my heart than to have him think I don't trust him. "I was just thinking about the fact that we will never be able to have those uberscully-mulders." He kisses me and slowly draws away, laying beside me only briefly on the bed. I never should have said anything. This was not the right time. I knew I should have kept it to myself. Mulder gets up from the bed and makes the brief journey to the video camera, shutting it off. Then he hobbles on unsteady legs into the dressing area and I hear him turn on the faucet. He returns and offers me a drink of water, which I gladly accept. "Scully..." he begins as he sits down on the bed beside me. "There is something I haven't told you about. With the wedding and all... and then the disaster at the reception... the time never seemed to be right to discuss it." "What?" I don't like the concern that haunts his eyes. "Just before the wedding, I received an unusual gift from the man who claims to be my father. It was a note regarding the whereabouts of what he promises are the remaining ova that were taken from you when you were abducted." My heart rate increases as he continues his story. "I checked out the infertility center where the eggs were being stored. It was just as he said. I had them transferred to a safe location and tested for viability, and to confirm that they were indeed yours and weren't genetically altered. Everything checked out, Scully." This news excites and terrifies me simultaneously. "Why would he do this? Why would he want to offer us this hope? It doesn't make sense to take something away and then give it back... I hope he doesn't think we're going to believe him capable of remorse. It's got to be another deception to fit his own secret agenda." "That's what I thought too. But everything tested out okay. He even offered the name of a top infertility specialist to help with the IVF when we're ready." "I don't think that would be such a good idea." It'll be a cold day in hell before I'll let one of CGB's doctors ever touch me again. "I agree. I don't trust him either. I just thought you should know, Scully. If we're willing to take the risk... there's a chance we might be able to have that green-eyed baby with the medium-sized nose." "Why would he do this? Did he offer you any explanation at all?" "A lame one." "Give." "He wants grandchildren. Says he's an old man and he wants to see the future before he dies." "If that's all he's waiting around for, maybe we shouldn't put off having children." Mulder laughs at my wisecrack, but we shouldn't be joking. This man who is somehow connected to all the bad things in our lives, may have given us the one thing we both want so desperately, a chance to have children of our own. God help me, I'm even willing to consider it. ----------------------------------------------------- The mood has lightened considerably after our earlier conversation. For the moment we've put off any further discussion of CGB's wedding gift. Scully and I both agreed that with all that had happened in our lives over the past year, we should take some time to settle and get comfortable with our marriage and enjoy being a couple before we rush into trying to start a family. And I for one am all for enjoying being a couple. If I didn't know differently, I'd swear Scully had been a Girl Scout as a child. The woman is always equipped for the job. No detail of preparation escapes her organized mind. As I sit on the sofa staring with a certain amount of pride at the splintered remains of the coffee table, my wife produces the necessary cables to connect the camera up to the hotel's in room VCR. In no time at all we are watching our homemade porn video. Let me just say this, my wife is unfuckingbelievably hot! As we sit holding each other and watching her stellar performance, I feel my erection coming to full mast again. Scully seems mesmerized watching herself on the television. We've slipped on the thick terry robes provided by the hotel, and I stoked the fire with a fresh supply of wood. I am thoroughly enjoying the show, even teasing Scully that perhaps she should consider leaving the FBI and becoming an erotic film star. "There's big money in it, Scully," I tell her. "You could be the next Celebrity Skin centerfold babe. Think how proud I'll be to have my wife's name up there in lights with the likes of superstars like Alicia Monet, Alicia Rio, Amber Lynn, Ginger Lynn..." "Mulder, if anyone EVER sees this video except you and I, I will personally make myself a widow before you can offer an explanation as to what ever possessed you to betray my trust." "Do you want me to destroy it?" Please say no. "Not just yet. But promise me it's for our eyes only." "Of course, I wouldn't share this with anyone." As I finish speaking, the action on the TV shifts and the picture is suddenly sideways but still focused on the scene on the coffee table. A second later I come into view and land atop Scully, bring the table crashing down. We both laugh hysterically at the comedy of it. "Okay, maybe I should share this scene. I think we stand a chance on that 'America's Funniest Home Videos' show." "Don't you dare!" she warns with a grin. "I think we should at least send Ted a copy," I tease her. My comment wins me an elbow to the ribs. "Ouch!" I laugh. "Okay, okay... don't hurt me, Scully." She laughs again. "Ted was only able to take out a rickety old maple bed frame, Mulder. I'll be damned if you didn't break through a solid oak coffee table. Guess that proves I married the right man." I can't hide my grin of self-satisfaction. "Don't you ever forget it either, G-woman." "Believe me, Mulder, this is one time I will NEVER forget." ~END~ *** Author's End Note: Okay, remember that this Mulder and Scully are Xenith's not mine. She wanted CGB to give them this special wedding gift, so I asked for permission to be the one to deliver the news to Scully and exorcise my babyfic demons on her Moose and Squirrel instead of mine. I'm ashamed to admit it was kinda fun. (Shh! Don't tell her I said that.) Anyway, she deserves full credit for this interesting plot device. You'll have to pester her if you want to see those uberscully-mulders come to life. Life is too short to drink bad wine.