Title: Interminabilis Vitae (1 of 1)
Author: Diana Battis (All4Mulder@aol.com)
Distribution: OK for Gossamer, Xemplary and Spookys. Anywhere else, just ask. 
I usually say yes.  
Classification: MSR S, Angst 
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Yes. That's it -- just yes.
Summary: Nothing lasts forever.
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Never have, never will. Damn it!
Author's Comments: Kristy -- Thanks for making me feel this is as important 
as your paper. I owe you big time, and for more than just the beta.
Music may be the food of love, but I live for feedback! E-mail me -- 
All4Mulder@aol.com
http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Vault/4090/TheXFilesFic.html

********

The gossamer strands of the spider's web covered the top of the shrub. It 
shone in the early morning light, the droplets of dew making it shimmer as 
though it were covered in diamonds. It was an unexpected thing of beauty, and 
she was captivated by its perfection.

Scully stood at the window examining the web, watching as the sun touched 
more surely on its surface. The fine drops were disappearing, the heat of the 
morning claiming them, destroying their brilliance. Somehow it seemed fitting 
that she should be a witness to their destruction. She attempted to smile at 
the thought, but this twist of the lips made a mockery of real smiles. 

Good thing it's Saturday, she thought soberly. Sleep had been long in coming 
to her last night, and she'd wakened early to lie there, unrested, troubled 
by the thoughts that were still swirling uncontrollably through her mind. She 
finally rose just before dawn, pulling on his discarded shirt and creeping 
silently out of the room to await daybreak. And now it was here.

She watched for a while, the perfection of the morning filling her with a 
sense of wonder. She'd never really noticed before just how beautiful it was. 
The sky was tinted in tones of pink and orange, colors that should have 
clashed but only made it more spectacular. The sunlight slowly chased away 
the shadows of the night, illuminating the world with stark clarity. If only 
all shadows could be banished so easily. . .With shaking fingers, she pulled 
the curtains closed, shutting out the daylight that now seemed to mock her.

Sighing, she walked quietly to the bedroom. She stopped in the doorway to 
look at Mulder. His presence, so brazenly masculine, should have seemed out 
of place in her home, but it didn't. It was where he belonged.

He lay on his back, sprawled among the bedclothes, legs splayed and arms 
clutching a pillow. The sheet barely covered him, exposing the lightly tanned 
skin covering his muscular frame. She let her gaze run slowly over his form, 
from the broad shoulders and chest down to his impossibly large feet poking 
from under the edge of the twisted covers. As though aware of her scrutiny, 
he shifted restlessly, and she held her breath until his movements ceased. 

She loved to watch him this way, to see his body relaxed and his face minus 
the lines of strain. He retained an air of boyish innocence in sleep that was 
so very endearing, and looking at him, she felt her mood lighten a little.

She loved him so much. More than she'd ever admitted to herself. Funny how 
circumstances can force you to acknowledge these things, she reflected. No 
use pretending this was just another relationship. It wasn't, for her at 
least. Bittersweet memories flooded her mind, and she closed her eyes against 
the tears that threatened. This was forever, no matter how long that may be. 
. .

Moving to the bed, she sank to its surface, pausing only to strip off the 
shirt she had borrowed. Despite the promised warmth of the day, the morning 
air chilled her bare flesh, and she shivered slightly. Slowly, so as not to 
wake him, she removed the pillow from Mulder's arms and insinuated herself in 
its stead. 

The heat of his body provided an appealing contrast to the cool sheets, and 
she sighed in contentment as his arms pulled her closer to him. She rested 
her cheek against his chest, loving the feel of him, warm, comforting, and 
alive. And aroused, she mused, as she felt his erection pressing into her. 
She smiled then, a real smile that lit up her face and chased the shadowy 
gray from her eyes, leaving them a clear and brilliant blue.

Lifting her head, she looked at him. His mouth was slightly parted, and his 
cheeks were darkened by early morning beard. She stroked down his face, the 
stubble prickling against her fingertips, before sliding them across his 
bottom lip. Shifting, she replaced her fingers with her mouth. . .

********

He awakened gradually, feeling the light kiss that feathered across his mouth 
and down his chin and neck. He sighed as the soft brush of hands slid across 
his chest, pulling away the soft cotton sheet that shielded him from their 
touch. They flicked lightly over his nipples, tangling in the smattering of 
hair before sliding slowly over his torso. Their movement was deliberate, 
calculated to tantalize and arouse.

Laying there, he passively accepted her caresses as he floated in that 
peaceful region between sleep and total awareness. Lips fast followed the 
trail set by hands, circling over him, and his muscles contracted under their 
ministrations.

He felt her fingers scratch through the dark hair arrowing down to his groin, 
skirting around his erection, arousing him more by their lack of contact. His 
hips rose involuntarily, and a soft sigh escaped his lips.

"Oh, you like that, do you?" He heard the smile in her voice, knew that if he 
opened his eyes he would see her lips slightly curved, their full lushness an 
invitation. But he resolutely kept his eyes shut, choosing to stay in that 
twilight state between sleep and consciousness, giving control to her. 

He trusted her.

The bed shifted slightly, and he felt her slender weight settle over his 
knees as her hand encircled his cock. Agile fingers scraped lightly across 
the underside of the shaft, reaching the tip and slipping softly over its 
ultra-sensitive surface to gather the drops of moisture collected there. 
Stroking over the hot skin, she carefully teased him. He felt the 
electricity, an erotically charged current flowing through him as all his 
energies centered on the engorged flesh.

He cried out then, needing her, aroused nearly to the brink of pain. 
Frustration battled with lethargy, his hold on the hazy stage between sleep 
and wakefulness at a tenuous point. 

Cradling him in her hand, the mattress dipped beneath him as she shifted her 
position. Then the tight wetness of her enclosed him, slowly, slowly, the 
pleasure racking through him as she sank down on him to the root. Velvet heat 
caressed him, sweetly surrounding him with her lushness.

Oh, god, she was good. Knew just how to move, when to move, which buttons to 
push. And this was good, better than anything. Better than a Knicks 
championship, a home cooked meal, twelve-year-old scotch.

Opening his eyes, he looked at her, saw her arched above him, her skin 
glowing with an unearthly light. She never looked so beautiful, he thought. 
It almost hurt to look at her. Beautiful, and his, and he would kill anyone 
who would dare try to come between them.

He finally moved, reaching up to span her waist, lifting her off him and 
flipping her onto her back. Rising over her, he paused for a second, probing. 
. .and then he thrust into her. Her face twisted in pleasure and she moaned 
his name as her head rolled on the pillow, begging him for more with every 
little breath. 

Legs encircled him and her hips rose and fell, matching his rhythm perfectly 
as he stroked deeper, harder, faster. There was no easy familiarity about 
this joining. It seemed desperate somehow, more urgent than before. 
Demanding. But still good, oh Christ, yes!

With a low groan he let go, releasing into her, feeling her answering 
contractions. He filled her body in a rush of pleasure so intense he thought 
he'd lose his mind. Incredible, she was incredible. . .

And finally, he kissed her. Soft and easy, their mouths pressed gently 
together as the frantic remnants of passion faded. This was so perfect. 
Something he'd never expected and would never take for granted. She was so 
sweet. He sighed as her lips moved against his throat, murmuring low words he 
couldn't hear but nevertheless understood.

Pushing up on his elbow he examined her at length, taking pleasure in this 
simple act. She lay there, looking limp and sated, an expression he was sure 
mirrored his own. His lips brushed across each eye, smiling at the little 
moue of pleasure she made. Rolling over, he cradled her body against him.
 
She nuzzled her face into his chest, her fingers threading through the sparse 
curls there. He smiled into her hair, pleased when he felt her body relax 
into sleep. 

Pulling the sheet over them, he held her tighter, his hands moving over the 
smooth skin of her back as one thought flowed steadily through his mind -- 
she loves me.

No longer tired, he contentedly watched over her as she slept.

********

The smell of coffee filled the room, its aroma cutting through the layers of 
sleep. She lay there, savoring the feeling of total contentment that always 
followed making love with Mulder. This sense of fulfillment was new to her, 
something she couldn't take for granted.

She found herself regretting the time they'd spent denying their feelings, 
but she shook those thoughts away. Life could be unforgiving and time too 
brief to squander it on regrets.

Her eyes flickered open slowly, and she was momentarily surprised by the deep 
shadows in the room. Shit! What time is it? She wondered, panicking. Her 
glance sought the bedside clock. Ten-thirty. Early, thank God. Plenty of time 
to do what she had to and still be back before she was missed. . .

She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, wincing as her 
muscles protested. Standing, she reached for her robe, shrugging into it. Her 
hands were trembling, and she gripped the edges of the robe tightly willing 
them to stop, before tying the cord snugly about her small waist. It wouldn't 
do for Mulder to see that, she thought. It would provoke questions, and she 
didn't want that, not yet. Time enough for questions later. . .

She took a few deep, cleansing breaths. I can do this, she reasoned. Catching 
sight of herself in the mirror, she noticed the unnatural paleness of her 
face. It intensified the dark circles under her eyes. Damn it, I can't go out 
looking like this!

Borrowing an old trick of her mother's, she lightly pinched her cheeks, 
bringing some much-needed color into them. Brushing her hair behind her ears 
she gave her reflection one last look. Better. Not perfect, but less likely 
to arouse suspicion. . .

The blue silk robe clung to her body, the fabric swaying as she walked out of 
the room in search of Mulder. She found him standing in the middle of the 
living room. He held a mug of coffee, carefully sipping the fragrant brew as 
he juggled the newspaper and a pair of shoes. His hair was damp, yet no 
amount of water could control its early morning wildness. He was dressed for 
running, in a ragged tee shirt and shorts, looking impossibly handsome 
despite his outlandish attire.

She could feel her lip start to quiver, and she bit it. Hard.

"Morning, sunshine," he murmured, his eyes lighting up at the sight of her.

"Good morning." She smiled at him, watching as he set the newspaper and mug 
on the coffee table before dropping his lanky frame on to the couch. "You're 
a little late starting, aren't you?" She crossed her arms, using the pose to 
hide her trembling.

Mulder's mouth twisted into his familiar grin. "Yeah, I am. I was. . 
.sidetracked earlier." His eyes met hers, the sleepy look an almost tangible 
caress. The color she felt heating her cheeks now had nothing to do with 
artifice, and she heard him laugh as he noticed the blush. 

"You didn't seem to mind being *sidetracked*, Mulder. In fact, I somehow got 
the impression you liked it very much. But, if you prefer, I'll promise not 
to *bother* you so early in the morning. I know how important your running 
is," she teased, as she settled herself beside him.

Thrusting his feet into the shoes, he braced one foot against the coffee 
table, his fingers nimbly tying the laces. "Oh, I didn't say I minded it. Uh, 
in fact, Scully, it's important for a runner to warm up before he starts."

"Here, let me." She reached out for him, and he swung his body around, 
placing his other foot in her lap. Her hands were trembling again, she 
noticed abstractedly. No matter, her body frequently reacted to him that way. 
Nothing to worry about. But she kept her eyes focused on her hands, afraid to 
meet his eyes. Afraid of what he might see. . .

She tied his shoe, then ran her fingers over his ankle, up his leg to his 
thigh. The muscle was warm and firm beneath her hand. Lightly stroking the 
hair-roughened skin, she felt him shiver beneath her fingers and heard his 
sharp intake of breath. 

"Um, I think I've warmed up. Actually, I'm about to overheat, Scully." Now it 
was his turn to flush, his cheeks tinged with red and a fine sheen of 
perspiration glistening on his brow. He gently pulled his foot from her 
grasp, then turned to sit forward, both feet braced on the floor.

She reached out to pat his knee, allowing herself one last touch. His hand 
grabbed hers, holding it firmly within his grasp as he brought it to his 
mouth. He turned it, palm up, and placed a hard kiss in its center, pressing 
her fingers closed over it.

"I owe you, Scully. Consider this a down payment." He dropped her hand back 
into her lap, then stood, stretched lightly, and grabbed his keys off the 
table before setting out.

Now that he was gone, she found it easier to breathe. The past twenty-four 
hours had been so difficult. Several times she'd almost told him. . .but she 
didn't. Instead, she'd worked hard to keep things normal, to put up that 
stoic Scully front for Mulder's sake. And now that the decision had been 
made, it was important to follow through. It wouldn't do to have him suspect 
anything, at least, not until she knew something tangible.

She rested her head against the back of the couch, closing her eyes. Life is 
funny, she reflected. I needed him so much two years ago, needed his strength 
and support and wouldn't admit how much. Now I have it, unconditionally, and 
I can't tell him. . .

Her sigh echoed in the silence. We've known each other for over six years. 
All that time we could have been together. Not that it matters now. We can't 
change the past. Besides, no one really knows how much time they have, do 
they?

Do they?

Maybe she did. Maybe she'd be measuring her life again in days, instead of 
years. Maybe. . . Involuntarily, her hand reached up to touch her left breast.

Yesterday morning, she'd found a lump. . .

*******

End

Diana Battis
Feedback is appreciated -- All4Mulder@aol.com