Long Distance Love (the complete series) by ML Author's Note: These started out as one story but quickly became a series. Therefore, I've packaged them together as such. The parts: 1. Long Distance Love 2. The Genuine Article 3. Delayed Gratification 4/18/02 Title: Long Distance Love Author: ML Email: msnsc21@aol.com Distribution: Kimpa, always; Enigmatic Dr., yes; anyone else, please ask first (I'll probably say yes). Spoilers: none Rating: NC-17 Classification: PWP. Smut, and nothin' but. Keywords: Mulder/Scully Romance Disclaimer: These characters are not mine, they belong to Chris Carter, TenThirteen, and Fox Broadcasting. I mean no infringement, and I'm making no money. ==== Long Distance Love by ML A week. That was about seven days too long. She lay in bed, thinking about him, about the last time she saw his body, the last time they'd made love. She missed him terribly. After so many years alone, it had only taken a few short weeks for her to become accustomed to having him in her bed. He'd been temporarily assigned to the field office in Boston, helping out with a serial murder case. She'd had to stay in Washington, working on another case. Only a couple of days, he said when they said goodbye at the airport. They barely touched or spoke in public. They'd already said a private goodbye that morning, anyway. She'd wanted to make sure he would miss her. They talked every night, trading news about their respective cases. Last night, he'd gone a little further than that... he told her about a dream he'd had, about her. After they'd said their goodnights and hung up, she'd had to release some of the erotic tension his recounting of the dream had aroused in her. She couldn't wait to hear his voice tonight. When the phone rang, she picked it up and remained silent, letting him speak first. "What are you wearing?" he said in a low, raspy voice that he reserved just for her. Like honey with a little whiskey mixed in. She took a deep breath and looked down at the blue striped flannels she'd put on at bedtime. "I bought a new nightgown. It's silk, teal green." "Is it long or short?" "It's long, with thin straps. The bodice is sheer lace." She heard a sharp intake of breath and she smiled. "I like the feel of the silk against my bare skin. It's a little rough and it warms against me, like someone's hands." "Oh, you knooooow what I like. Anything on underneath it?" She could hear his breathing a little louder and faster now, and hers was a little faster, too. "Just panties. Bikinis, black satin with the same kind of sheer lace in the front. But the elastic around the legs is too tight and it's not comfortable." "Why don't you take them off?" "Okay." She sat up, making sure to rustle the sheets and comforter a little. "I'm standing up now, and I'm pulling the gown up to my waist. I've got it bunched in one hand while I work the panties off with my other hand." She used her phone hand and pulled at the waistband of her flannel pajamas, letting them fall to the floor around her feet. "I'm still holding the gown up. The air is cold on my legs and it makes me shiver. I'm letting the gown fall down again around me. The silk feels good against my skin." Silence from the other end of the phone, except for some rather loud breathing. She prompted him, "What are YOU wearing?" "Uh...boxers. Silk also, but black. That's all." "Take them off." She heard the phone set down on the nightstand and slight rustling noises. "Okay, they're off." "Look at yourself and tell me what you see." She had a grin on her face, imagining his expression. "I see...a manly chest, knobbly knees, and the biggest penis you ever saw in your life." She stifled a giggle. "Is it really? Is it as big as it can get?" "As big as it can get on its own." His voice changed from honey to dark chocolate. "I think it needs a little more assistance from you. Lie down on the bed again." He was trying to take control of this little game. She preferred to see him out of control in these circumstances, but she went along with him. "Okay, I'm lying on the bed. Now what?" "I want you to touch your breasts. Tell me how it feels." She began a slow circular caress of her breast with her free hand. "I can feel the nipple starting to get stiff. I roll it and pinch it a little, and then I lick my fingers and circle it a little. I'd rather have your mouth on it. Now I'm touching the other one, too. They're both erect now, and very sensitive. How's your penis?" A snort from the phone. "Doing very well, thank you. Why don't you slide that gown off now?" She sat up and unbuttoned her pj top. "Okay, I've taken it off." "Are you naked?" "Um hmm." She touched herself briefly between her legs and squirmed a little. He'd better hurry up, or she was going to start without him. "Okay, touch your breasts again. Imagine I'm there, and I'm kissing you. I'm just touching your lips with mine, and then with my tongue. I love to lick your lips. They taste like wine tonight, though sometimes they taste like chocolate. I'm not satisfied with just your lips, though. I have to taste the inside of your mouth..." Scully kept her eyes closed and licked her lips, imagining Mulder. As long as she could hear his voice, she could almost believe he was there...almost. "The inside of your mouth is even more delicious. Your tongue reaches out to play with mine. You make that little sound deep in your throat that I like so much." Scully obliged as best she could, though without his actual presence it wasn't easy. She heard a satisfied grunt over the phone and he continued: "...I'm moving on now, then licking my way down your throat, to your shoulder, then over to your breasts....my mouth is on one nipple while my hand touches the other. I circle your nipple with my tongue, lick it up and down, then start to suckle it. Then my other hand moves between your legs..." Silence. Scully froze, her hand about to perform the action Mulder narrated. "Scully?" His voice went even lower. Scully could hear the effort he made to calm his breathing. "Don't you have anything to say?" Think. Think of Mulder, and what he likes. "I haven't just been lying here, Mulder. I've got my hand on you as you lie alongside me, and I'm stroking you. I start at the base and I draw my finger tips along it to the tip. I tickle the underside a little before sliding my hand down to the base again..." "The base of what, Scully?" Mulder's voice was teasing. He knew she had trouble saying certain words. "Your...cock," she sighed it out in what she hoped was a sexy voice. He chuckled a little breathlessly. "And you're headed where?" "I want to touch your...balls." This was the first time she'd used the vernacular on him. "Yesss..." Mulder's voice was a whispered hiss. "You know where I'm touching you now, don't you?" "Oh, yes," Scully breathed back. "And I'm so...wet for you. My hips are rising up in time with the rhythm of you sucking on my breast, and now I spread my legs a little more to let you in." "My cock, my cock wants to be where my hand is right now. I want to be inside you. But not yet..." "I'm reaching out my hand and grasping it right at the root," she said, starting to slick her finger up and down between her legs. "I run my hand up and down to the tip again, squeezing it every so slightly." His breathing has become as ragged as hers. "I'm touching your clit right now, stroking it with my thumb, getting ready to push my fingers into you. Ver-r-r-r-ry slowly I push one finger, then two fingers, right into you, and sli-i-i-i-de them out slowly. Then I do it again. You feel amazing." She performed the actions on herself that he described. She could barely speak now, and her mouth was dry from panting she was doing. "Mulder," she pleaded. "It's time. Now. Please." "I love it when you beg, Scully," he chuckled, but his breath was short, too. "What do you want?" "You know what I want," she said, impatience coloring her voice. "Do I have to say it?" "Yes, Scully, you do. Tell me what you want..." she could tell he was on the fine edge of control, just as she was. Just where she wanted him. "Well," she said, drawing out the words, "I pull you toward me and wrap my leg over your hip. You're very close to me now. I can feel the heat of your body..." "Oh, Scully," he groaned. She smiled. "And you slide right in. I can feel every inch of you as you move within me..." "I can feel you, too, Scully, and it's even more amazing... you're everything to me..." "Me, too," she whispered, and by unspoken mutual consent, they closed their eyes and rode out their fantasies, just to the sounds of each other's breathing, gasps, and sighs. x-x-x-x "You've been practicing, haven't you, Scully?" Mulder asked a bit later. "I just about came a couple of times from the tone of your voice." "I'm glad you noticed," she said smugly. "When are you coming back?" "Certainly not tonight," he said. "You've worn me out." "Ha ha Mulder, you know what I mean." "Tomorrow," he said. "I'll be back tomorrow. Meet me at the airport?" "Just tell me when," she said. She felt lethargic and strangely content in her empty bed. They lay there and listened to each other breathe for a few minutes. "Hey, Scully?" Mulder asked after a bit. "Um hm?" Scully responded. She loved falling asleep to the sound of his voice, even long distance. "What were you *really* wearing tonight?" She smiled again. "My striped flannels." "The blue ones?" "Yep." "I love those." A pause. "Aren't you going to ask me what I was wearing?" "You mean you weren't wearing black silk boxers?" "Uh uh. Plaid flannels. And a gray tee shirt." She giggled sleepily. "Oh, Mulder, you knooooow what I like." "Sweet dreams, G-Woman." "You too, G-Man." They slept, and dreamt of tomorrow. end. ==== 4/24/02 Title: Long Distance Love II: The Genuine Article Author: ML Email: msnsc21@aol.com Feedback: Yes, please! Distribution: Kimpa, always; Enigmatic Dr., yes; anyone else, please ask first (I'll probably say yes). Spoilers: none Rating: NC-17 Classification: Smut. Mostly. Keywords: Mulder/Scully Romance Summary: There's nothing like the real thing. Disclaimer: These characters are not mine, they belong to Chris Carter, TenThirteen, and Fox Broadcasting. I mean no infringement, and I'm making no money. ==== The Genuine Article by ML How many hours had she and Mulder spent in airports over the years? Scully wondered idly as she entered the concourse. That would be a mathematical puzzle to consider while she waited. Because, of course, the flight was delayed. Mulder was probably fuming wherever he was. Scully was annoyed, too, because she'd forgotten to check for delays before coming to the airport, and now she'd have an hour to kill before Mulder's flight got in. Mulder would be surprised to see her waiting. Scully was not one to waste time hanging around the airport if she didn't need to. In fact, she often factored in even the amount of time baggage claim would take. It was a game to see how close she could gauge her arrival to the plane's arrival, or better yet, to pull up to the curb just as Mulder emerged from the building, luggage in hand. It wasn't a matter of callousness; it was practicality. Mulder was the same way, though he tended to cut it a bit too close when they were headed to the airport for departure. For some reason today it hadn't even occurred to her to call the airline. She knew she had no one to blame but herself, or perhaps her over-eager libido. She'd been imagining her reunion with Mulder since last night when he told her he was coming home. Actually, if she was entirely honest, she'd been imagining it since she saw him off, a week before. She felt vaguely disconcerted by this. Had she really become so dependent on another human being? Silly thought. She and Mulder had become dependent on each other long ago. Intimacy, however, was a new chapter for both of them. Physical intimacy, anyway. Or, as Mulder once said, since they started doing the naked pretzel. Just imagining Mulder saying that made Scully shiver. It surprised Scully how turned on she got hearing his voice, especially when roughened with effort during love-making. But she was discovering now that hearing his voice in almost any context aroused her. Last night they'd attempted phone sex for the first time. It had been a revelatory experience to learn just how much Mulder's voice did to her, even without his physical presence. She wondered if he'd felt the same about her. She smiled briefly, and felt a slight blush on her cheeks. Most of the time she let Mulder do the talking, but last night they'd both done their share. It was getting easier for her to talk to him the way he liked. Mulder was as loquacious in bed as out of it, and she liked listening more than she liked talking. Mulder didn't seem to mind. She tried to make up for it in other ways. Scully had done her best last night, though she'd never imagined having phone sex before Mulder. And yet anything seemed possible, not to mention enjoyable, with Mulder. She still preferred the real thing, and she was pretty sure Mulder did, too, despite his history. x-x-x-x Scully went to the trouble of showing her credentials and going through the metal detector so she could meet Mulder at the gate. Might as well take advantage of my early arrival and surprise him, she thought. She found a coffee kiosk nearby and treated herself, finding a seat where she could keep an eye on the arrival times and indulge in a little people-watching. She looked around at the people passing to and fro, and wondered idly about them. That woman, pulling the suitcase and looking at her watch. Was she going home to someone who loves her, or just going home? The couple over there, both dressed in business attire, carrying their own cases. They were talking about some case or other. Lawyers, it sounded like. Partners? Just colleagues? She looked for signs of something more. They behaved very professionally toward each other, but spoke with the ease of a long time association. No particular spark was apparent to Scully. She watched them all the way out of sight. The man stepped aside to let the woman go on the escalator first, his hand hovering at waist level behind her back, but not touching her. She wished she could see his face. Maybe he cared about her, but she didn't care about him the same way. She wondered what she and Mulder looked like to the outside world, if anyone even noticed anything different about them. Maybe it was just paranoia. Could people see beyond the careful facades they'd erected? It had taken Scully a long time to see what Mulder had taken great pains to hide from the world, and she knew where to look, presumably. No one would ever know what we are to each other by looking at us, she reassured herself. I don't think they would, anyway. Though I really don't know how I hold it together sometimes when I see him. Just seeing his face makes me feel like I'll burst into flame the minute he gets near me. That was the difficulty. She felt so different inside. She felt certain it must show somehow to others, and it worried her constantly. They'd both learned to keep their emotions to themselves over the years. They'd dealt in secrets for so long, it had become second nature to keep them, even from themselves. Learning to be open with each other was both pleasure and pain. She realized that many of her decisions over the years had been made because of her feelings for Mulder. Mulder would say that they couldn't possibly know what made them make the choices they did. He was all about taking chances. He was outcome focused rather than worrying about the path. No use worrying about all that water under the bridge, she told herself. What counts is what you do with the present, not what happened in the past. x-x-x-x Scully had long finished her coffee and was feeling restless when the flight arrival time was finally posted. Only a few more minutes to go. She resisted the impulse to go to the window and see if she could see the plane approaching. She felt nervous, on edge. This was the longest separation they'd had since becoming lovers, and she'd missed him more than she'd anticipated. At last the plane taxied to the jetway. It seemed to take forever for the doors to be connected and for the passengers to begin disembarkation. When they flew together, Mulder always waited for Scully to be ready, and stood in the aisle to let her out before him, even though she usually had the window seat. She imagined him bounding out this time, impatient to see her. She hoped so, anyway. Where was he? It seemed like everyone in the world was on the plane, and they all got off before Mulder. At last, she saw him. His face had a neutral expression, but Scully knew him well enough to tell that he was tired and frustrated. He didn't even look for Scully. He wouldn't expect her to be waiting at the gate. She delayed making herself known to him, enjoying the rare opportunity to observe him. He was dressed in a suit, garment bag slung over his back and another small bag in his other hand. He looked straight ahead, his annoyance at being held up by other passengers only visible by the slight compression of his lips. He had to stop short as the woman in front of him found who she was looking for in the crowd of onlookers and stopped short herself, holding her arms out. He started to swerve around the couple who were now oblivious to the world, but he paused for a few seconds and looked at them. Scully could see something flicker in his eyes before he sidestepped them and continued on his way. He almost walked past Scully but she stepped out of the crowd and said in a low voice, "Mulder." His expression transformed as he saw her. Scully saw a moment of disbelief, and then he broke out into a huge grin. His eyes were the most amazing sight of all. They seemed to be lit from within. And all because of her. Then, just as quickly, the grin disappeared and his public face returned. But his eyes were only for her. "Hey, Scully," he said. "Miss me?" The four words said everything to her. How much he had missed her, how much he loved her, and how much he wished he could show her, right here and now. Scully's own reaction was as she predicted. A wave of heat enveloped her from tip to toe and seemed to center first in her face, and then low in her belly. Her eyes spoke to him the same way. "Welcome home, Mulder," she said softly, and enjoyed the way his eyes brightened even more at her words. "Nothing better to do than hang around in the airport all day, huh Scully?" he teased. "I just happened to be in the neighborhood," she returned in kind. "Need a lift?" "I thought you'd never ask," he said. They turned as one and headed back down the concourse, side by side, shoulders and arms brushing occasionally. It felt more intimate than a kiss to Scully. Get a grip, Dana, she told herself. When they got to the down escalator, Scully said, "Let me take that bag, Mulder. I don't want you to lose your balance." He smiled and complied, and she was rewarded by the feel of his hand at her back, which was what she really wanted. She suspected that Mulder knew it, too. "How was the case?" she asked, trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy and professionalism. "Awful. Boring. Long. Much, much too long," he said. They gained the main floor of the concourse. "Do we need to go to baggage claim?" she asked. He shook his head, and leaned close. For one dizzy moment, Scully was sure he was going to kiss her, right in the middle of this very public place. "I've got everything I need, right here," he whispered, his warm breath a caress. "I can't wait to get you alone." Scully had to fight a blush back, and didn't dare look at Mulder. He'd always leaned over her like that to speak privately to her, but now the things he said were *really* private. When she finally looked up at him, his expression was bland, but there were devils in his eyes. She walked toward the doors. "Let's go, then." She refused to look at him again. His hand once again found its way to her back, protecting her from the swarms of people surrounding them, helping to clear her path. x-x-x-x It seemed to take forever to get out of the airport parking lot, and rush hour traffic was upon them. Scully had handed the keys to Mulder and he drove with silent concentration. He drove straight to Scully's apartment. They hadn't spoken since the airport, and they maintained silence as Scully fumbled with her keys. So. Now they were here, in their own private space. The silence continued, stretched to the point of awkwardness. They looked at each other, both finding it hard to break it, to make the first move. Finally, Scully put Mulder's bag down and turned to the kitchen. "Why don't you go change? What do you feel like for dinner? I'll call something in." But Mulder had already taken his bags and gone back to the bedroom. Scully filled a glass with water and drank it down. She leaned against the counter, eyes closed, unsure of her next move. She felt vaguely disappointed. This was not how she'd imagined their reunion. She'd half expected Mulder to jump her as soon as the door closed on them, and it didn't happen. But then, she'd made no move toward him, either. Why was she being so shy all of a sudden? What was bothering her? Nerves? Dry mouth? Was she suddenly embarrassed about the night before? "Hey, Scully," Mulder's voice came from the bedroom. "Come here a minute." It was the tone of voice he used during investigations when he wanted her. Not the voice she'd hoped for, and yes, expected, to hear. She went, all the same. Mulder was holding a crumpled bag behind his back. She could tell it was from Victoria's Secret and she blushed a little. "I brought you a little something," he said. His voice was shy, but his eyes were dancing with mischief. Scully took the bag he held out. It didn't take a genius to guess what it was. It was the exact color green Scully had imagined when she told Mulder what she was wearing. "I don't know, Mulder," she said slowly. "Looks more like a gift for you than for me. And where are the panties?" He smiled and put his hand in his suit coat pocket. He drew out an impossibly tiny scrap of material, sheer and lacy. "Have you been carrying those around in your pocket all day?" "All day, Scully," he nodded. "Mulder..." she said in an affectionate, exasperated voice. "Just put `em on?" he said in the low, liquid voice she'd been hoping to hear. She took the negligee and the panties and nodded. But before she did anything else, she went to her bureau and took out a pair of black silk boxers. She dangled them in front of Mulder and he grinned. "Be right back," he said. She was standing in the middle of the bedroom when he returned. The gown felt just as she'd described to him the night before, the slight roughness of the silk catching on her smooth skin whenever she moved, the lace of the bodice rubbing against nipples that were already sensitive and yearning for Mulder's touch. Mulder wore only her gift to him. She let her eyes roam up and down his body, taking in everything. His arousal was obvious, even under the boxers, but she looked everywhere but directly at it, finally holding his eyes with hers. "Do you like what you see, Scully?" he asked in a voice that did the same thing to her that the negligee was doing. It was silky and slightly rough, and it made her feel good. She nodded. "But you misled me about one thing, Mulder," she said. He looked a little concerned. "What, Scully?" "You don't have knobby knees." She grinned at his relief. "Well, I didn't want to sound too stuck on myself," he said. "Get over here, Scully." She went, gladly. Mulder put his hands on her shoulders and drew his fingertips down her arms, raising them to link around his neck. He wrapped his arms around her, one hand brushing through her hair, the other low on her back, keeping her as close as he could. His arms felt so good around her. He bent to her mouth and planted one soft kiss after another, pulling her closer to him. This was what she missed most. Mulder's kisses. She could do other things to herself and imagine Mulder was doing them to her, but she couldn't duplicate his kisses. She wouldn't want to try. His lips were so soft, and were just the right size. He seemed to know instinctively how to kiss her. He started with gentle, glancing touches. With her eyes closed, she never knew where she would feel the warm, moist pressure next. He placed kisses on her eyelids, her temples, cheekbones, the tip of her nose and just under her ear. He nuzzled her and tasted her wherever he could reach. He only occasionally visited her lips, and when he did, she pressed against his, only to have him dart away, leaving nothing behind but her desire to have him closer, to give her more. She sighed a little impatiently and pressed her own searching kisses along his throat and chin. He chuckled a little, but she was rewarded by the firm press of his mouth against hers. He was ready to get down to business now. He suckled her lower lip, pulling and releasing it gently, giving it a little nip or a lick for variety. Scully moaned softly, both because he made her feel so good, and because she wanted to encourage him to do more. She captured his lower lip between hers and ran her tongue along the inside of it. She was rewarded by a Mulder moan that went straight to her core. She felt his tongue now, and parted her lips a little more to let her tongue brush along his. Mulder made another noise, deep in his throat, and crushed her even closer to him, their mouths equally urgent, pulling and biting as they each made each other increasingly breathless. His hands drifted over her back to her silk-covered behind, pressing her into him. She could feel the warmth of his naked chest just beyond the lace covering her breasts. She wondered briefly if he liked the feel of lace rubbing over his skin the way she did. She loved the feel of friction, the warmth created between their bodies. Scully moved her arms to wrap around Mulder's waist and let her hands wander to his buttocks, mimicking what he'd done to her. She held him tighter, making up for the long week when the only thing she had to hug was a pillow. There was no substitute for this feeling, either: the hot, hard mass of him, pressed against her belly. She squirmed against him a little, feeling his reaction and hearing his sharp intake of breath. "Does this feel good, Scully?" Mulder was whispering into her neck between kisses. "Do you like what you feel?" He was moving his body against hers slowly, causing more heat, more friction. "Mmmmm," was the only sound Scully could muster. She felt bathed in honey from the inside out. How had she lived so long without this feeling? She kissed his temple, his sideburn, his ear. She kissed anywhere she could reach, wanting him to feel what she felt. A thought entered her head and for once she spoke without internal editing. "You know what feels best to me?" Mulder murmured, "Mm-what?" into her shoulder as he nibbled and suckled his way along her collarbone. "What feels best?" "You," said Scully. "Just you." When the meaning of the words filtered through to Mulder's brain, he paused and looked down at her, smiling a slow, sleepy-eyed smile. "That's what I like best, too, Scully," he said. "You. You, surrounding me. There's no silk that can compare to the feel of you." He captured her mouth again, pressing her lips open with his tongue, one hand still low on her back while the other moved to caress the curve of her waist and then finally to cup her breast, his fingers rubbing slowly over her nipple as she shivered with excitement. "I missed you so much, Scully," he panted into her mouth. "Me, too," she said. She reached for him, her fingers rubbing him through the thin silk of his boxers, alternately stroking and gripping until she could hear his breathing get harsher. "Scully...you've gotta...stop that..." he said. He pulled her hand away and stepped back. They stared at each other, both breathing hard. Without taking his eyes off Scully, Mulder pulled off his boxers and stepped out of them. She drank him in, no longer shy about looking at him fully. She could feel his eyes on her, watching her look at him. He approached Scully again, and gripped her waist, pulling the skirt of the gown up. She raised her arms as he pulled the gown slowly up over her body, allowing the fabric to drag against her sensitized skin. He knelt to peel the panties down her legs. Now it was Mulder's turn to look at her. She stood and watched his face as his eyes swept her body from the crown of her head to her toes and back up again. Their eyes met and held for a long moment. Then Mulder held out his hand and led her to bed. There was no more talk now. Mulder lay beside her and kissed her again, licking her lips first and then the inside of her mouth. Scully could hear his words from the night before. <...you taste like wine, like chocolate...you make that sound...> It took no effort tonight to make the little sounds that Mulder liked to hear. He continued to caress her the way he'd told her he wanted to the night before. He moved from her mouth to her breasts, and took his time sliding his tongue first around one nipple, then the other, sucking each in its turn while his hand stroked down her body, down and down, closer to her center, closer to where she most wanted to feel him... Oh yes, she did. Mulder knew her better than she knew herself, just where and how to touch her...she didn't need to imagine him, he was here. Her body knew the difference, too, and reveled in it. She couldn't control her hips, didn't want to, as Mulder's fingers and hands stroked and touched and tickled... Mulder made her feel amazing. She roused a little from the haze of desire Mulder had woven around her and stroked her hand down his flank. She took him in hand again, tapping and stroking and squeezing gently, feeling how close he was, only wanting to add to his pleasure, not bring it to an end too soon... "Scully..." he breathed, and she heard the need in his voice. "What, Mulder?" She could barely speak herself. "Tell me what you want." "You, Scully," he said. "Only you. Always you." That was all she needed to hear. She moved closer and guided him to where they both most wanted him to be. No matter how great the spell Mulder wove with his voice, it was nothing to what he could do with his body. Scully loved the weight of him pressing her down, the rough brush of his beard against her face, the small noises of effort and satisfaction he made as he moved over her. Everything, even the sound of his breathing, even the sweat dripping off him, made it real. A momentary fear gripped at Scully, that none of this was really happening, that they'd never made love, that she would wake from this lovely dream in her lonely bed... ...but that wasn't true, what was happening now was the truth, it was okay now, he was here, here, here, and he loved her, was loving her, and she didn't have to pretend to feel him because he was here, he was here, he was here... ...both her relief and her release were earth-shattering. When she came back to herself, she felt Mulder's full weight still on her, his face pressed against her neck. He raised his head and looked at her with wonder. "Wow, Scully," he said. "That was...you...I haven't words." He kissed her and rolled to one side, pulling her with him, holding her close. Stop the presses, Scully thought. I've rendered Mulder speechless. She hid her smile as she curled into his embrace. They slept a little. Scully woke to find Mulder propped up on one elbow, watching her sleep. He smiled as she opened her eyes, and she smiled back at him. "Are you okay, Scully? I was a little worried before." "I'm fine, Mulder," and as he groaned, she added hastily, "No, really, I mean it." "You seemed a little, um, strange today at the airport, and I thought...well, I thought maybe what we did last night upset you." "It wasn't that, Mulder. I...I don't know what it was. This was the first time we'd been apart since...for a long time, and it was strange. Like I didn't know how to act anymore." "I think you picked up on it pretty quick, Scully," he said. "Me, I damn near jumped you when I saw you standing there in the airport, looking good enough to eat." She was blushing again, she could tell, but Mulder just chuckled and held her close, stroking her hair. "So you were okay with last night?" he asked softly. "It was a new experience, but it didn't upset me," she said. "I just never did anything like that before, um, in front of anyone." "Believe it or not, I've never had phone sex before, either," Mulder said. "Oh, sure," Scully said. "No, really," he said earnestly. "What I mean is, not with a real person." He kissed her forehead, and trailed down to her cheek and ended at her lips, where he took his time nibbling first the top one, then the bottom one, and leisurely exploring the interior of her mouth. "Not with the woman I love." When he released her, she traced his lips with her finger, and he pulled it into his mouth, circling it with his tongue and sucking on it gently. "How did you know what color gown to get me?" Scully asked. "You can't tell that it's green, can you?" Mulder shook his head, and tried to answer around her finger. "I had to trust the saleswoman to tell me. For all I know, it's fire-engine red." He pulled her hand closer and kissed her fingertips and down to her palm. "Tell you a secret," he said. "If you're a man, all you have to do is stand in the middle of the store and look helpless, and they won't leave you alone. You try it sometime, but in a hardware store. Same thing'll happen." "I believe you, Mulder," she said, closing her eyes to savor the feelings he was invoking. "I like to hear that, Scully," he said. He placed one more kiss on her palm, and said, "Stop changing the subject now. Did you like it?" "Like what?" She played coy. "You mean, just now? Oh yes. Yes. Very, very much." Her response earned her another series of kisses that left them both breathless. They lay with foreheads touching, fingers entwined, and Mulder said, "Did anyone ever tell you what a tease you are, Agent Scully?" "Never, Agent Mulder. I'm all business, all the time," Scully said. "Is that what you call this?" he asked. "Come on, Scully, answer the question." "What was the question again?" Oh, it was fun to tease him. Mulder gestured as if the words would appear in the air between them. "You know, you...me...the phone..." "Oh, that. It was okay." He put on a wounded look. "Just okay?" She smiled at him. "I enjoyed it, but not as much as being with you. There's just no substitute for the real thing, Mulder." He beamed. "Absolutely. You'll get no argument from me." He kissed her. "Accept no substitutes." He kissed her again, a little deeper. "Beware imitations." Another kiss, a little longer. "Buy only the gen-u-ine article." The last kiss was not interrupted by any additional commentary. It was a while before either of them had breath to speak again. Predictably, Mulder spoke first. "So, the next time I have to go away--" "Mul-der --" "Scul-ly, what?" "I don't want to be in that situation again. I don't want to be apart." "I get that, Scully. I don't, either. But if..." She put her finger against his lips again. "Let's just cross that bridge when we get there, Mulder. Wouldn't you rather think about things we can do together than things we can do apart?" Mulder's eyes brightened. "Like what?" "Stick around, G-Man, and you might find out about a lot of things I might like to do." "Ooooh, Scully! Do you take requests?" There was only one way to stop this conversation. Fortunately, Scully knew it. She launched herself onto Mulder and smothered his mouth with her own. And for once, Mulder knew that silence was golden. end. ===== 5/4/02 Title: Long Distance Love III: Delayed Gratification Author: ML Email: msnsc21@aol.com Feedback: Oh, yes! Please? It keeps the muse happy. Distribution: Kimpa, always; Enigmatic Dr., yes; anyone else, please ask first (I'll probably say yes). Spoilers: none Rating: NC-17 Classification: Smut. Mostly. Keywords: Mulder/Scully Romance Summary: The last in the "Long Distance Love" series, told from Mulder's POV. Disclaimer: These characters are not mine, they belong to Chris Carter, TenThirteen, and Fox Broadcasting. I mean no infringement, and I'm making no money. ===== Delayed Gratification by ML I could have driven to DC faster than this. Damn it, I hate waiting in airports. When I think of where I could be, where I will be as soon as this God-forsaken plane gets to its destination... I'm not usually so anxious to return home. I've never really had anything to return to, until recently. Since Scully finally opened her heart to me. Since Scully and I became lovers. God, I love thinking that. This is first time we've been apart for more than a night since we crossed that line. It hasn't been that long, but I guess I've gotten used to having her around. I put my hand in my suit pocket and feel the scrap of silk and lace I put there this morning. It belongs to Scully, though she hasn't seen it yet. Touching it makes me think of our conversation the night before. I can't wait to see her, and to continue the conversation in person. Damn this delay. I've already endeared myself to the counter staff. I know there's nothing they can do, and I don't normally take out my frustration in that way, but I couldn't help myself. I know that by the time I get to the rental car counter and make other arrangements, they'll be calling my flight, but it's still way too long to suit me. Anything that keeps me from getting back to Scully is bad. I find the newsstand and pick up a paper and some seeds, and head for the gate. I'm trying to be hopeful, here. There's always a chance the delay will be shorter than they say. I think about Scully -- as if I hadn't been already -- and what she might be doing right now. She's probably called the airport and found out about the delay, so she's probably still at the office, finishing up her report or something equally responsible. As long as she's not bringing any work home with her. I plan on keeping her fully occupied. I can't believe it now, but *I* was the one who tried to reassure Scully when I found out I was being loaned out to the Boston office for a while. Well, I talk a good story, but having to live it is another thing entirely. Here's the thing. We've been in the field since becoming lovers, and we've done okay. I have to explain, we have certain rules that we go by. No nookie while we're on a case, even when we're off duty for the evening. But even without the extracurricular activities, we're together, just the way we've always been. We eat our meals together, we stay up late discussing the case or whatever, and nothing is any different in that respect. In fact, it's so much the same that sometimes I think I've dreamed Scully and me making love. I'll sit there in her motel room, listening to her state her views on our case, and I'll be overcome by longing to touch her, to see the look in her eyes reserved for me alone. Sometimes she catches me looking at her, and she knows. She never says anything, but she smiles, and then I see what I've been hoping for in her eyes. On those nights, I might try to fudge the rules a bit, but Scully keeps us both honest. The most I can get away with is a goodnight kiss that's just this side of illegal. I can tell that I've almost got her, and really that's enough for me. Just knowing that Scully wants me as much as I want her is enough to get me through the night. Being truly apart, however, is a whole `nother ball game. There are too many miles between us, and though we've talked every night, I can't see her. I need to see her as well as hear her, I've found. So what did I do to survive during our enforced separation? I could have done what I used to do. The TV in my hotel room offered a wide variety of entertainment, including some movies that used to be part of my private collection. They're no longer very appealing. Now that I've had the real thing, filmed fantasy just doesn't cut it. I do, however, have my own little theater of the mind, which has several advantages over the commercially available kind. First and foremost, they all star Scully, and equally wonderful in my book, I'm her co-star. I'd make my nightly call to Scully, we'd talk about our days, and we'd venture timidly into more personal realms. Neither of us are very good at talking about our feelings. I felt like such a jerk, not being able to tell her I loved her over the phone. Some of it is just natural caution, but some of it is that it's hard for me to say it, no matter how strongly I feel it. Scully is just as reticent, but I expect that from her. She doesn't really need to tell me, because she's so good at showing me. But with neither of us being able to see the other, it was different. So, after we said good night to each other, I turned to my private stock of memories and took matters into my own hands, so to speak. It wasn't great, but it was better than nothing. I closed my eyes and thought of Scully. I imagined my mouth on hers, tasting her sweet lips, then going beyond them into the welcoming warmth of her mouth, feeling how her tongue touched mine in greeting. I licked my own lips, imagining Scully's on them. I continued my virtual tour of Scully, kissing my way down her body. I enjoy the taste of her skin, no matter what part. It's different, depending on where I land my lips. Sometimes salty, sometimes sweet, and all good. I imagined her pressing closer to me, and the sighs that escaped as I sampled her. I imagined her lips doing the same to me, touching along my jaw, the side of my throat, in the notch below my Adam's apple, her nose bumping gently against it. I swallowed reflexively, just thinking about it. Her breasts...oh my. When I first start to kiss one, just along its upper slope, I can feel her heart pound, and I feel her skin shudder just the barest bit. Then I close my mouth over her nipple, and feel it harden against my tongue. I imagined her writhing under my mouth, her hands clutching the back of my head as I suckled her. I felt myself harden reciprocally just from the thought of it. It didn't take much more for me to find my release, such as it was. No matter how hard I tried, there was no way to duplicate the way Scully feels to me as I kiss her, as I enter her, as I feel her come apart around me. I wasn't sure if Scully was faring any better than I was. I couldn't bring myself to ask her, and she wasn't saying. After a couple of days, I was in desperate straits. I'd call Scully, and just the sound of her voice was enough to turn me on. It was all I could do to keep my hand from straying to my cock while we talked. I knew it was the most boorish, selfish thing I could do, and I sure didn't want to cut off the call to go take care of business. So one night, I said, "I had a dream last night, Scully." "A dream, or a nightmare?" Scully asked. I could hear the concern in her voice. We've both had our share of nightmares. I hastened to reassure her. "No, just a dream. Wanna hear it?" "No liver-eating mutants or giant alligators?" "Not a one, Scully. No one but you and me." I lowered my voice to almost a whisper. "What were we doing?" She unconsciously lowered her voice, too. I liked that, a lot. "I'll get to that. Let me set the scene a little. We're in this room, a big almost bare room --" "Are we trapped in the room?" Scully asked. I gusted a noisy sigh into the receiver. "Do you want me to tell you the dream, or what?" "Sorry, Mulder," she said, but she didn't sound very sorry. "I was afraid you were going to continue with, `it was a time of dark, dark despair.'" "It's not that kind of dream, Scully," I said patiently. I thought she was teasing me. I hoped she was teasing me. I couldn't always tell. "What kind of dream is it, Mulder?" she asked, and this time I could hear just a tiny bit of laughter in her voice. "Wait and see, Scully. Maybe it's a bedtime story kind of dream." "Does it have a happy ending? Will it help me go to sleep?" What's this? I wasn't quite sure how to interpret this question. I went with the time-honored, answer with another question ploy. "Why? Do you need something to help you sleep?" "Mm hm," she said, still in a low voice. "I need you." Huge, huge admission on Scully's part. I was encouraged to continue. "I need you, too," I said. Somehow Scully saying it first allowed me to say it back, coward that I am. "Maybe this will help a little. Where was I?" "We're trapped in a big, empty room," Scully reminded me. "Scully, I didn't say we were trapped." "You didn't say we weren't either," she pointed out. I decided the only way to get her to listen without interrupting was to cut to the chase. "We're not trapped. We want to be there. And the room isn't entirely empty. In the middle of it, there's a big, big bed." "Oh..." It was a mere breath of sound, and I responded to it like Pavlov's dog. "You wanna know what we're doing?" I asked. Silence. "Scully?" A pause, and then, "Yes." I had her. "We're lying facing each other, and I'm kissing you, Scully." A little sigh escapes over the phone line and I smile. I'm imagining Scully's face, slightly flushed, her lips parted, moist from her licking them... "Wh-what are we wearing?" Scully asked. That's usually my question; she's turned the tables on me. I racked my brain. Nothing, dammit. Then, inspired, I asked, "What do you think I'm wearing, Scully?" "Um...boxers. Silk. Black." Where did that come from? I haven't owned a pair in years. But I remember with a flush of embarrassment and arousal, that Scully saw me in them once. She remembered that? Oh my, oh my... "What am I wearing, Mulder?" she asked. Focus, Mulder, focus. I review and reject any number of ideas in milliseconds. "Well, you had on a silk gown, with thin straps. But I've taken it off you already." "Ohhh..." That breathy little sigh was almost enough to send me off. "And then..." "Yes?" "Then...the dream ends." Dead silence. I thought for a moment she'd hung up, but I waited. I wanted her to speak first. "Mulder." She used her normal tone of voice, and there was a definite edge to it. "That's it?" I stifled a laugh. "Maybe I'll tell you the rest tomorrow night, Scully. Or maybe you'll have something to tell *me.*" "Mul-der..." there is a definite whine to her voice. "Good night, Scully. Sleep well," I said, and hung up. She didn't call back, which is good, because I was...busy for a bit. I suspect that she was, too. I had great hopes that the next night would not be a solo performance, even though I'd still be in Boston, and Scully in DC. I had set the stage, and now I hoped that Scully understood what I intended her to do the next night. I should explain something here. Scully doesn't really like to talk during sex. I'm the chatty one. I've coaxed Scully into talking to me a little bit, asking her questions about what she likes, what she's feeling, but her answers are usually pretty succinct. I can tell that she likes it when I talk to her, though. Oh yeah. I can see the look on her face, her eyes huge and dilated. I don't know if it's just the sound of my voice or what I'm saying. I'm sure I can attribute the look to more than my verbal skills, but I know that it's part of the package for Scully. She tries to reciprocate, she really does. Sometimes her attempts almost make me laugh, except I know that if I laughed, she'd never say another word to me in bed, and maybe not even out of it. Well, I'm not laughing now. What she did for me last night was so amazing I may never look at a phone the same way again. With very little prompting, Scully took my little idea and ran with it. If she ever decided to leave the FBI, she could have a second career as a romance novelist. Or a phone sex operator. Not that I'd ever tell her that. She inspired me enough to make a stop at shopping center on the way to the airport, and pick up a little something to surprise her with. I found a gown that matched what she described, I think, and a pair of panties too. The panties are in my pocket, right now. I finger them and think about the things Scully said the night before, and how they made me feel. I'm so lost in the memory of Scully's sultry voice, saying words I never thought I'd hear from her, that I almost miss the call for my flight. x-x-x-x This has to have been the longest flight in history. We are in a holding pattern for a while, circling the airport. I look out the window and try to see if I can make out Scully's car along the arrivals circle. Silly, I know. At last we're cleared to land and we taxi to the terminal. Everything seems to be moving in slow motion. We start to disembark and I shuffle along the aisle, stopping to pick up my garment bag from the front closet. The attendant was nice enough to allow that, and I hardly had to flash my badge at all. I won't have to wait at the baggage carousel, and I'm grateful. It's too much to hope that Scully will be here already. She's so good about confirming times and getting to the airport on time, not a minute before. Just this once I wish that she'd just be here. I shift my garment bag over my shoulder and try to edge around the crowds of people in the jetway, but no one seems to be in that big a hurry. I almost run into the woman in front of me who stops short and is engulfed in a hug by someone. I can't help it; I gaze at them for a moment, and think what it would be like to have someone waiting for me at the gate. Well, I tell myself, at least you have someone waiting for you. I shoulder my bag again and move on. "Mulder." I hear a familiar voice at my elbow. When I look over, I can't contain my surprise and delight. Scully smiles back at me, and I feel this incredible surge of happiness at the sight of her. I'm this close to dropping everything and sweeping her into my arms. Then better sense prevails and I give her the normal, partnerly greeting that's acceptable for two people who are supposed to be coworkers and nothing else. But we both know the truth, and understand the subtext. I can see it. When Scully takes my carryon from me, I use my free hand to touch her and I'm amazed at my reaction. I wonder if Scully got that same sense of electricity from the feel of my hand on her back? I've taken comfort from this gesture for years, and hope that it's imparted the same to Scully, but now it's different. It's a little weird, and awkward, being in public like this. Maybe it was a bad idea for Scully to pick me up; I'd much rather our reunion be private. I feel thwarted in my desires. I'd like to drop everything and sweep her into my arms. She asks me something about baggage and I lean down close to her and tell her how much I want her. She flushes slightly, and a tiny frown appears on her face, but her eyes are sparking. I back off. Scully gives me the car keys and I'm glad. My plan is to go straight to her apartment. I'm afraid if she drove, she'd drop me off at my place, and I'd have to drive over later, delaying my plans even more, and increasing the awkwardness. The drive seems to take forever, and though we're alone in the car, I can't think of anything to say. Scully seems lost in her own thoughts. She's obviously aware that we're headed to her place, but she makes no comment about it. I begin to wonder if maybe I pushed her too far last night. She's so self-contained, I see it as a challenge to help her lose it. That's a win-win situation, as far as I'm concerned. But it's possible that it was just a bit too much for Scully, even though she seemed willing enough last night. She might have felt differently about it later. I'll have to try and broach the subject before it becomes a bigger deal than it is. We're finally in her apartment, and Scully puts down my bag and turns away from me to put her keys down. I thought I might just pull her into my arms and give her the greeting I'd wanted to give her in the airport, but the set of her shoulders is tense and she doesn't turn back right away. Maybe she doesn't like the idea of me being underfoot so much, either. I have a few things that I keep here, with Scully's permission, though it's not like we live together or anything. She keeps a few things at my place, too, but we seem to spend more time here. I head down the hall to dump my stuff in the bedroom. As I start to take off my jacket, I remember the panties in the pocket...and the Victoria's Secret bag in my carryon. Now there's an ice-breaker if I ever saw one. Presenting Scully with it will tell me what I need to know, in a hurry. I hide the bag behind my back and call her into the bedroom. Scully's reaction is everything I could hope for. She tries to cover it with a teasing comment, but I can tell that I've scored a few points here. And when I pull the panties out of my pocket, I think I've made the winning basket. Nothin' but net. I don't know if she's more turned on by the panties themselves, or by the thought that I've been carrying them around in my pocket all day. It's not the panties per se that do it for me, it's the thought of Scully wearing them, and me taking them off of her. Maybe for her it's the thought of me taking them off her, too. I like that idea a lot. Then Scully pulls the boxers out of her lingerie drawer, and I realize that I've been outscored. As I go into the bathroom to wash up and change into something more comfortable, I'm struck by the strangeness of it. I mean, we've seen each other naked. It's weird that I'm putting clothes on to go make love with Scully, and that she's doing the same for me. It seems like we go about everything in the most complicated way possible. And I'm standing in the bathroom, the black silk of the boxers dragging against my skin in the most erotic way, imagining how good Scully must look in that slinky gown I got her. Why am I doing this, when she's in the next room, waiting for me? Anticipation is making the main event that much more exciting. I'm all for instant gratification, but knowing what's to come is almost as sweet as the reality. My pulse is thrumming, my cock is trying to fight its way out of the boxers, and Scully is in the next room, waiting for me. Waiting for me. But not for long. She's standing in the middle of her bedroom, looking a little shy. The gown fits her like a second skin, the lace of the top part showing off as much as it conceals of her breasts. The skirt smoothes over her waist and hips and flares out just below them, stopping just short of the floor. I could see her toes peeking out from under the hem. She takes my breath away. Then at last, she's in my arms, and I can feel what I've been imagining, dreaming of, all week long. Scully twines her arms around my neck and I press her body close to me. I can feel her through the lace of the gown, and the combined sensation of the slight scratchiness of the lace and her hard little nipples practically sets me aflame. I take a deep breath, and try to concentrate on Scully instead of my reaction to her. I take my time kissing her, getting reacquainted with the feel of her. For a long time, that's all I do. I kiss her beautiful, soft lips, pressing against them and gently sucking on either the top or the bottom one, just once in a while putting my tongue into play. I'm gratified by her soft sighs and the way she nuzzles against me. She's trying to get me to move a little faster, but I'm not giving in. She wriggles against me and it makes me gasp, and I feel her smile against my mouth. Two can play at this game, Scully. I let my hands drift down to her waist, and then to her butt, and pull her tighter against me. At the same time, I kiss her a little more deeply, now allowing my tongue free access to her luscious mouth. Scully matches me, nip for nip, caress for caress. Our kisses get a little sloppy as we grind against each other. I pull away from her mouth to draw breath and nibble along her collarbone and back up to her ear. We've been nearly silent up to this point, except for some breathy moans and gasps. I whisper in her ear, "Do you like what you're feeling?" I take her low humming as a yes. She's kissing me with fervor, but she pauses to ask me a question that I'm barely cognizant of. But it must be rhetorical, because she answers it herself: "What feels best to me is you. Just you." I'm not sure how I answer her in words, or if I even do. I'm too busy showing her how much I liked hearing that by trying to absorb her into my skin. I love her so much, and I missed her so much. I kiss her deeply, and my hand drifts up to her breast at about the same time she reaches between us and decides to shake hands with my cock. I think I see stars for a moment, but fortunately there's no explosion. I cover her hand with mine and gently pull her away before the grand finale starts. I take a deep breath and step out of my boxers. Scully watches me, and I'm awestruck by the hunger in her gaze. She stands, watching, waiting. I pull the gown off over her head, letting the fabric rub against her as I do so. She's trembling by the time I'm done, and it's got nothing to do with being cold. As I thought, the panties look wonderful on Scully, revealing as much as they conceal, but I'm done with them for now. I pull them gently down her legs and put them aside. Scully is a sight to behold, all flushed and trembling, moist lips and huge eyes. I resist the urge to pull her to me again, and lead her to the bed. I think I'm shaking a little too, from exerting self-control as I try to relax myself enough to keep from rolling onto Scully immediately. Part of me thinks, why not? She's ready, you're ready, just go for it. What's the fun in that? Okay, I withdraw the question. It's just that there's fun and then there's *fun*, so why not make it last as long as you can? We've had a week of relative celibacy, and I want to take more than five minutes to end it. The brain is the biggest erogenous zone we've got. "Smart is sexy," Scully said to me once. I happen to agree, and I've got the smartest, sexiest woman in the world in bed with me right now. I have no intention of rushing things. I find her mouth again, and begin to taste her more thoroughly than before. My hand finds her breast, and I fondle it languorously. I begin to kiss my way down her body, listening to Scully's nonverbal communication, gauging what she likes best from the sounds she makes. I fasten my mouth over one breast as my hand finds her sweet spot. Her hips jerk up as I touch her. I'm feeling almost blissed out, suckling first one breast and then the other as my fingers stroke and tickle her below. Scully can't keep still, and she's making all manner of noises that go straight to my groin, which is the only part of my body not completely happy with the way things are at the moment. Then Scully reaches out her hand, and the tables are turned. Advantage to Scully, I think dazedly, and through the fog of lust that's suddenly completely clouded my brain, I think I hear myself begging. Lucky for me, Scully is compassionate. I feel her hand guiding me, and her leg swings over my thigh as I slide into her at last. All conscious thought dissolves into pure sensation. Scully says she loves to hear me talk when we make love, but half the time I don't think I'm aware of what I'm saying. I'm concentrating on what I'm feeling, and whatever comes out must be stream of consciousness. Sex is my truth serum; at least, sex with Scully is. I think about how good she feels, the heat and slickness that surrounds and embraces me. The feel of her hands on my hips or my butt, alternately squeezing and stroking. Her legs, wrapped around mine, holding me close. The smoothness of her skin, the feel of her lips, the sound of her breathing. The way I've grown to recognize the signs that she's on the brink, and how I can now instinctively do exactly what she needs. The way it feels like this could last forever, right up to the moment that we reach the peak and start the exquisite slide back down again. This time, Scully comes so hard and fast I'm taken by surprise. It's like being hit by a tsunami, and the waves carry me right along with her. All I can do is close my eyes and hang on. I can barely speak when I come to. It's all I can do to pry myself off of Scully so she can breathe again. I kiss her, and I feel her lips go slack under mine as she conks out. I'm on the edge of following her, but I keep my eyes open as long as I can, watching her eyelids twitch as she dreams of waking up in my arms. I hope. That smile has got to mean something. I carefully push my arm under the pillow where Scully's head is and pull the covers up over us. I think back over the day, and how it's gone. From anticipation, to gratification, to contemplation. Quite a ride, and one I don't think I'll ever tire of, as long as Scully is a part of it. I kiss her forehead and settle back to rest myself. The evening is young; I'm hoping that I'll have another chance at our mutual gratification tonight. For the moment, caught between waking and sleeping, afterglow and anticipation, I'm content. end. Feedback is very gratifying: msnsc21@aol.com You can find more of my stories at my page, created by Kimpa: http://www.kimpart.com/mlfic.html Check out the rest of Kimpa's site while you're there!