DISCLAIMER: Mulder and Scully do not belong to me, alas;
they are the creative and intellectual (smart is sexy)
property of Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen Productions, the Fox
Network, and the talented Gillian Anderson and David
Duchovny.  No infringement is intended.

This is a LOVERS story, which means it takes place after the
events of my 12 DEGREES OF SEPARATION series.  Rated a very
strong R for sexual situations and language.  Most
definitely a Mulder/Scully romance.  You have been warned.


LOVERS:  "Rub a Dub Dub"
by Anne Haynes
AHaynes33@aol.com


O how your fingers drowse me,
Your breath falls around me like dew, 
your pulse lulls the tympans of my ears, 
I feel immerged from head to foot,
Delicious, enough.
                             - Walt Whitman

*  *  *  *  *

Dana Scully turned off the water and dipped her fingers into
the tub, testing the temperature of the bath.  Hot enough to
make her skin tingle, but not so hot that it burned.  She
took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the steamy scent
of the bubble bath.

Perfect, she thought.  Just perfect.

She glanced at her watch as she left the bathroom and went
to check on the progress of the chicken breasts she was
roasting in the oven.  Almost 6:30--Kelvin Thacker's warning
call had come fifteen minutes ago, which meant Mulder should
be walking through the door any minute--

As if on cue, the front door opened and her husband walked
in, already peeling off his suit jacket.  "Hey."  He gave
her a weary smile.

She took his coat and folded it over her arm, then reached
up to loosen the knot in his tie.  "I hear you had a rough
afternoon."

"Kelvin's been tattling again?"  He bent and kissed her, his
mouth moving lazily across hers.

"Yup."  She pulled his tie loose from his collar.  "Said the
other agents wouldn't play nice with you."

He kissed her again, hard and long, until her stomach
muscles bunched and quivered.  She gently extricated herself
from his embrace, lest she forget her plans for the evening
and just throw him down right there on the living room
floor.

She unbuttoned the top couple of buttons of his shirt. 
"Lucky for you, you're married to a doctor.  I know how to
cure what ails you...."

His eyebrows lifted.  "Hmmm...trying to forget that you're a
pathologist...."

She finished unbuttoning his shirt, untucking the tails from
his trousers.  She slipped it off and added it to the jacket
draped over her arm.  "Kelvin said you DID find the key
piece of evidence to crack the case."  She put the discarded
clothing over the back of the couch.  "My hero."

"Which the other guys just LOVED."  Mulder grimaced,
shrugging off his rumpled white undershirt.  He tossed the
t-shirt onto the sofa and reached for Scully.

She dodged him, softening her rebuff with a little smile. 
"Mulder, you need a bath."

He sniffed a couple of times.  "I didn't forget my
deodorant..."

"Trust me, Mulder.  You NEED a bath."  She caught the
waistband of his pants, hooking her fingers beneath his belt
and tugging him with her toward the bathroom.  A quizzical
half-frown creased his forehead, but he went willingly
enough.

She stopped in the doorway of the bathroom, stepping aside
so he could see the big clawfoot tub, full of steaming water
and fragrant bubbles.  The pink box of Mr. Bubble sat on the
shelf by the sink, the big bubble face smiling at them.  She
glanced up at Mulder, wondering if he'd think a bubble bath
was as good an idea as she thought it was.

He looked down at her, his expression somewhere between
bemused and intrigued.  "We're going to take a bath
together?"

"Not exactly."  Scully unfastened his belt and pulled it
from the loops of his trousers.  "I'm going to give YOU a
bath."

Intrigue eclipsed bemusement.  "Really?"

She unfastened his suit pants and slid them down his trim
hips, taking his blue silk boxer shorts along for the
ride.  Seeing that her idea was already having the desired 
effect on her husband, she hid a smile. 

Oh, Mulder, just you wait....

He stepped into the tub.  "What do you want me to do, just
sit?"

He sounded like an eager kid, she thought.  Ready to play.   
She slipped her watch off her wrist and put it safely on 
the sink stand, then picked up the large bath sponge on 
the shelf above the tub.  "Just sit."

He lowered himself into the tub.  Despite its roominess, he
still didn't quite fit, elbows hanging over the sides and
knees poking up like twin islands in the bubbles.  "You sure
we couldn't just make this a quick shower and--"

"Mulder, 'quick' is not in our vocabulary tonight."

He quirked one eyebrow, a smile flirting with his lips.  For
a second, Scully thought about breaking her own rule for the
night and dragging him, wet and soapy, into the bedroom with
her right now.  But she was nothing if not self-disciplined.
All good things were worth the wait.

She squeezed a small dollop of sea-scent bath gel onto the
sponge and worked it into a fine lather.  With gentle
circular strokes she began to wash his back and shoulders. 
"You're so tense," she murmured, tracing the hard, knotted
muscles in his shoulders with slick, soapy fingers.  "You
shouldn't let those idiots get to you."

"I know.  I guess I just missed having you there to protect
me.  You and your lethal eyebrows."

She bit back a chuckle.  "I wish I'd been there, too."

"How'd the classes go?"  Mulder sank a little deeper into
the suds.

She sighed, directing her breath toward his ear and smiling
behind his back when he squirmed a little.  "Boring."  

For the past couple of days she'd had to take over a block
of pathology classes at the F.B.I. Academy at Quantico after
one of the instructors had to have an emergency
appendectomy.  The X-Files division was between cases so the
timing wasn't too bad.  But it was the first time since
their marriage four months earlier that she and Mulder had
worked apart for any length of time.

"I missed you," she added in a faint whisper that stirred
the fine hairs at the back of his neck.

"Pendrell missed you," he returned, glancing over his
shoulder, a teasing light in his eyes.

This time she did chuckle a little.  "Alan's over that now,
Mulder."

Mulder scooped up a handful of lather and let it drip
between his fingers.  "Nobody gets over falling for Dana
Scully."  

Once again, her resolve almost failed her.  Mulder wasn't
the most verbally expressive man she knew when it came to
emotions.  Sweet talk like this was rare and heady.

Stay focused, Scully.  Miles to go before you sleep....

Lifting Mulder's arm over his head, she slowly ran the soapy
sponge from his hand down to his armpit, lathering his skin 
until it was white with foam.  His gaze locked with hers,
his hazel eyes darkening.  The intensity of his regard
threatened to play havoc with her respiration, but she was
powerless to look away.  Even as moist heat began to build
and pool in her core, she forced herself to continue her
ministrations, her hands moving over his arms, shoulders and
chest with deliberate care. 

His breathing was rapid and shallow by the time she decided
to check the progress of her plan.  She ran the sponge
across his chest, then reached for the little tube of bath
gel precariously perched on the edge of the tub.  Hiding a
smile, she "accidently" knocked the dispenser somewhere in
the vicinity of his lap. He reached for it, but she caught
his hand.  "I'll get it."  She rolled up the sleeve of the
Patriots jersey she wore and reached into the water.

Her fingers brushed the tube of bath gel, but she ignored
it, sliding her hand into her husband's lap.  Her fingers
brushed the object of her quest and she bit back another
smile at the involuntary whoosh of air that escaped his
lungs.  Glad to know not EVERY part of his body's relaxed,
she thought.  She let her fingers play lightly over his
flesh, gauging his reaction by the rapid bobbing of his
Adam's apple.  "Can't quite find the bath gel," she
murmured, feigning apology.

"No hurry," Mulder assured her, his voice a little strained.

She teased him a few seconds more, then located the gel
dispenser and withdrew it from the water.  Mulder released
another long sigh.

She squirted more gel onto the sponge and lathered his
right knee where it poked up from the water. "Did you know
that in some parts of the Orient, it's customary for women
to give men baths?"

"I've always been fascinated by Oriental traditions."

She washed his other knee.  "Nothing sexual about it, of
course."

"Really."  He made a skeptical face.

"Didn't you ever read SAYONARA?"

"No, but I did see EMMANUELLE IN BANGKOK."

She frowned, pretending to consider his words.  "Don't think
I've seen that." 

"Want me to tell you about it?"  His eyes had a distinctly
devilish glint.

"Maybe later."  Coyly, she retreated toward the end of the 
tub, reaching into the water to lift his right foot.  Working 
the sponge lightly over his toes with one hand, she gently 
rubbed his instep with the thumb of her other hand, watching 
him from beneath her lowered eyelashes to see if her seduction
was having as powerful an effect on him as it was on her.

He closed his eyes, an expression of mingled pain and
pleasure darting over his face. He caught his lower lip
between his teeth, and it was all Scully could do to keep
from diving headfirst into the tub with him.

Worth the wait, worth the wait, worth the wait.  Scully
repeated the words to herself like a silent mantra as she
slowly worked her way up his legs, kneading his muscles and
stroking his flesh.  Bending forward over the edge of the
tub, she ran the sponge down between his legs, caressing his
inner thighs.  He made a low, strangled sound that rippled
straight from her ears to her loins.

She lingered there for a moment, drawing lazy circles over
his upper legs with the sponge, her movements intentionally
slow and (hopefully) maddening.  Mulder's hand tightened
around the edge of the tub, his knuckles brushing the
underside of her breast as she bent over him.  She couldn't
suppress the tiniest of smiles.

Then the smile became a gasp of surprise when Mulder's hands
shot out, grabbed her beneath her arm and dragged her
into the tub.

"Mulder!"

He settled her on his lap, his wet, soapy hands urging her
thighs apart so that she straddled him.  His hazel eyes were
deceptively drowsy-looking, but she could tell by their
twinkle that he was very much awake.  "Scully, your shirt is
wet.  Did you know your shirt is wet?  You could catch a
cold!"  He slipped his hands beneath her shirt and peeled it
upwards, baring her silk and lace bra.  She lifted her arms
and let him pull the shirt over her head. 

"Better?" she asked, placidly stroking his chest with the
sponge she'd somehow managed not to drop.

"And look...."  He scooped up a handful of water and bubbles
and dribbled it down her front, drenching her brassiere. 
"Scully, your bra is wet, too.  Can't let you sit around in
a wet bra."

Her stifled chuckle turned into a soft gasp as he slipped
his hands beneath the lacy cups of her bra and lightly
rasped his palms against her nipples.  He slid his hands
slowly around to her back and unfastened the clasps.  With 
a tug he removed the bra and tossed it across the bathroom 
to join the Patriots jersey lying in a wad against the wall.

"I hope you know you'll be picking up those clothes." She
tried to sound stern, even as he took the sponge from
her nerveless fingers and began to lather her breasts.

"You're such a neat freak, Scully," he murmured, pulling her
more firmly in his lap.  

She felt his arousal through the thin, wet fabric of the
cotton boxer shorts she wore.  Suddenly her decision not to
wear any panties under the borrowed Calvins seemed like a
stroke of genius.  She rocked her hips slightly and was
rewarded by a low, involuntary groan from deep in her
husband's chest.

He stroked down the length of her back until his fingers met
the waistband of the boxers.  "Oh, these are REALLY wet. 
Gotta go."  He tugged the boxers down over her hips.

"Good thing they're your Calvins and not the black silk," she
murmured.  "Do you have any idea what water does to silk?"  
She scooted back, letting him pull the pants down over her
legs and feet.  

He wrung the boxers out and tossed them into the growing 
pile of discarded clothing.  "Now, where were we?"

She eluded his grasp, sliding back in the tub until her spine
was painfully pressed against the water spigot.  She drew
his feet into her lap and started to massage the ball of his
right foot.

"Scully, you're too far away...."

She ran her fingers down the length of his foot and circled
his ankles, her touch feather light.  When she spoke, her
voice was low and raspy.  "I'm right here, Mulder.  Can't
you feel me touching you?"  

She felt the shudder go through him, vibrating the water
around her.  Her own body leapt in sympathetic response.  

"Scully..." 

She worked her way up his shins, lightly caressing his knees
and the undersides of his knees, sliding her fingers up the
soft insides of his thighs, stroking, kneading, brushing.  
She felt his muscles bunch and jerk under her hands and 
barely suppressed a smile of deep feminine satisfaction.

I'm doing this to him, she thought, reveling in the
eagerness of his body beneath her fingers.  She felt a surge
of power fill her, a sense of invincibility.

She stroked his hips, her fingers gliding lightly up and
down.  He watched her, eyes wide and dark with the
effort it cost him to remain still and let her play out the
game.

You'll thank me, she thought, moving her hands over his flat
belly and along his rib cage.  She loved the feel of him 
beneath her fingers, the hard and the soft of him, the 
smooth texture of his skin, the crispness of his chest hair.  
She loved the smell of him, the warm male muskiness that even 
the faint perfume of the bath couldn't completely mask.  And 
she loved the way he wanted her, the way his whole body coiled,
craving her, longing for what she could give him.

She straddled his thighs again and slid forward, stopping just
short of her eventual goal.

He released a soft, explosive sigh.  "Scully--"

She splayed her fingers across his chest, stroking his 
nipples with the palms of her hands.

"Scully!"  He grabbed her hands and held them away from him.
The swift, sudden movement shocked her into utter stillness.

He loosened his grip.  "Scully...please...."  A look of tortured
pleading captured his face.  "Please...."

She slid her hands into his, twining their fingers.  As she
bent forward to claim his mouth with her own, she scooted
her hips forward until she was flush against him.  He let go
of her hands and grasped her hips, shifting her into a
better position.  With a soft, guttural exhalation, he
rocked his hips upward and filled her in one powerful
stroke.

He tried to hold out.  She felt him straining to wait for 
her, to deny his body what she'd just spent a half an hour
promising him.  She rocked her hips in counterpoint,
knowing that he liked when she worked in opposition.  It had
defined their partnership for years, and now it added
exquisite intensity to their sexual relationship.  They
often made love in pure harmony, just as they often worked
together in harmony--but sometimes...sometimes a little
tension was a very good thing....

"Scully...I can't--"  He slanted his mouth over hers,
drawing her lower lip into his mouth and sucking lightly.  
The sensation sparked along her nerve endings and she 
clutched his shoulders, extending the rolling motion of her 
hips, knowing he was close--so close--wanting this for him,
wanting it so much more than she wanted her own release.  
She focused her entire being on his body, the little 
tell-tale signs that he was nearing his climax--the way his
respiration quickened and roughened until he was breathing 
in soft, keening gasps, the way his shoulder muscles 
tightened beneath her fingers.

Then, with one swift upward surge, he clutched her to him,
burying his face in her neck, his long, low groan rumbling
against her flesh.  She held him, stroking his hair,
whispering his name in a litany of love and joy.  The
thrumming of her unfulfilled body seemed as much a source 
of pleasure as release would have been.  She didn't know 
how to explain that; she knew only that it was.

They held each other for a long time, not moving, not
speaking.  Mulder stirred first, lifting his head to kiss
her again.  "I'm sorry," he murmured against her lips.

"For what?"

He met her gaze, his eyes tender and a little sad.  "Because
I don't like to cross the finish line alone."

She chuckled softly.  "I was with you in spirit."

He laughed, a rare, wonderful belly laugh that made her
heart soar.  "God, what did I ever do in my life to
deserve you?"

"Beats me," she murmured, nuzzling his chin.

"Yet you're still here."

She nodded.  "Go figure."

He shifted slightly, reaching around her back and retrieving
the bath gel that had miraculously maintained its precarious
position on the edge of the tub.  He grabbed the sponge
floating near her elbow and squirted a dollop of bath gel
into its center.  His eyes locking with hers, he fumbled the
little dispenser of gel.  It fell somewhere in the vicinity
of her lap.

"Damn, Scully.  Dropped the bath gel."  He reached into the
water between them.  "Don't worry--I'll get it."

As his fingers touched her flesh, Scully smiled.


The End