Sent: Friday, July 07, 2000

Title: The Woman Who Knows Everything

By: Xenith

Rated: NC-17

Keywords: Luridfic/MSR/Muldertorture (of course),
Smut

Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit.

Author's Note: This is part of the Sex Files/Magic
Shell series, a story challenge proposed by the
inimitable TBishop on the SisterSpooky list. The
challenge had us writing a smut story with the
required story element of Magic Shell, a chocolate
syrup. This was my humble contribution.

Summary: Scully feels bad about hurting Mulder in the
throes of passion and decides to make it up to him.


The Woman Who Knows Everything


Scully carefully closed the office door behind her
partner, then moved forward quickly to pull his office
chair out from the desk.

"Thanks," he grunted and sat down, moving the sling
that bound his right arm and shoulder carefully away
from the desk corner.

"Mulder, I am so sorry that I did that to you.
Honestly, when I pushed up against you I didn't
realize that between the cuffs and the angle your arm
was at...." her voice trailed off at his mournful
look. Six hours in the emergency room in Podunk,
Oklahoma had left them both tired and worn. They'd
managed to catch their flight, but neither had slept
much the night before.

At least, she assumed that Mulder hadn't slept. She
had dropped him off at his apartment the night before
after he had refused all invitations to stay with her
at her place.

She set his cup of coffee on the desk and watched
anxiously while he sipped at it. "Well, aren't you
going to say something?" she asked finally.

"Desk duty. I am confined to the office until this
goddamned shoulder heals," Mulder said evenly, but
with an undertone of rage. "Skinner won't let me on
the streets with a weapon until the Bureau doctor
checks me out *and* I pass muster on the target range.
Scully, the sex was great, wonderful, and you are
the hottest and most giving woman I've ever met. But
let's not ever do handcuffs again, huh?"

She could feel her Irish temper beginning to rise just
a bit. "Mulder, the last time I looked, you were
enjoying the sex just as much as I did. And you've
come up with some pretty unusual scenarios lately
yourself. Who was it who had scrapes all along her ass
for a week from being rubbed up against a brick wall?
Did I complain?" She folded her arms and gave him a
look.

"At least you could still shoot," Mulder said simply,
then looked down at the pile of paperwork on his desk
with a sigh.

Yes, she could still shoot, she mused. Oh my, how she
would like to shoot... No, no, don't think about that.
Thoughts of violence were bad. Very bad. Mulder wasn't
well and his shoulder was aching. She doubted he'd
even filled the prescription for pain pills he'd been
given.

She picked up the folder sitting on top of the pile
and glanced at it. "The woman who knows everything,"
she muttered. "You can't be serious."

Mulder couldn't hold back the little smile that
crossed his face. "Oh no, she's legit. She hasn't been
wrong yet." He leaned back in his chair, then winced.
Rubbing his shoulder, he went on. "There are
documented cases of this woman's clairvoyance. She
helped to locate a missing child, diagnosed an
unsupected case of cervical cancer in a woman who'd
already seen three specialists and recreated the
ancient Roman recipe for Garum sauce. She really does
know everything."

"Mulder, nobody knows everything. It's an
impossibility," she said flatly.

"Well," Mulder said sadly, "I won't have a chance to
find out. I'm locked up *here* for the duration and
she'll only be in town until tomorrow. I had made an
appointment for an interview today to see if she might
be useful on any of the other cases. But Skinner
was...."

"Skinner threatened to fire your ass if he sees you
put your nose outside the building," Scully finished
for him. "Uhhh...how did you explain the injury?"

Mulder flushed. "How do you think? I told him I
tripped over my running shoes getting out of bed and
wrenched my shoulder. He just gave me a look that said
'you doofus' and the rest you know. I know he thinks
I'm accident prone, but given that we were in Oklahoma
assisting on a white-collar crime, he wasn't going to
believe that I was assaulted by a suspect," Mulder
drew imaginary circles with his left forefinger on the
desktop. "Or a mutant."

"Well, at least I can talk to her," Scully said
firmly. "The information won't be lost, assuming that
she can add anything to our investigations."

"Are you sure you want to? I mean, you don't exactly
believe in her abilities." Mulder's hopeful look was
crystal clear.

"I don't have to believe in her to interview her," she
replied. "I'll see what I can find out."

Scully spent the morning with a grumbly Mulder. She
had sat with him through countless hospital visits,
injuries, surgeries but had never seen him in this
much white-knuckle pain. She supposed it was because
it was a muscle injury rather than one to the bone
itself. And yes, she felt guilty for having hurt him
in the first place. All she'd wanted to do was give
him the same sexual pleasure he'd already done for
her. Was that so wrong?

Well, she supposed, it was wrong if you killed your
partner in the process. She bit her lip and looked up
across the room to Mulder, white faced but gamely
trying to work. It wasn't as though she had a lot of
sexual experience. Oh, she knew what doctors know. She
knew where the nerves were but technique? Mulder, with
his closet full of porn videos had a better sexual
education and imagination than she did. She'd had a
few boyfriends, one or two who were as young and
ignorant as she was. Then there had been the two older
men. Daniel was married and fonder of her as an
audience than as a lover. And Jack. Well, Jack's
favorite sex was in the missionary position. Not much
room for imagination.

She bit her lip. How on earth could she keep up with a
man like Mulder? Not to mention the hordes of blonde
bimbos on those films he was addicted to?


"Mulder, I think I'll go and see that clairvoyant now.
What was her name?"

"Eve. Eve Masterson. Good luck! And ask her some good
questions!" Mulder called out the door as she left.

Scully drove to the airport Hilton hotel and pondered.
Ask a good question. Hmmm. The woman who knew
everything. What to ask? Alien colonization? Too
obvious. The meaning of life? Too amorphous. Who
would be the next president? Who cared? The one
question she wanted answered she didn't dare ask.

Or did she?

Well, the woman theoretically knew everything. Could
answer any question.

"I wonder...." Scully parked her car and pocketed the
keys.


Five Hours Later


"Hi Mulder," Scully met Mulder in the basement office.

"Hi yourself. You were gone a long time. Did the
interview go well?" Mulder tried to one-handedly
gather some files into his briefcase.

"Here, let me help with that. Yes, it was a very
interesting afternoon. She said that on the Anderson
case that the neighbor killed the family and hid the
bodies in his back yard. It wasn't an abduction by
aliens at all. And the crop circle case is a crock.
Teenagers have been reading "Fate" magazine and
getting ideas."

"Really? We'll have to follow that up," Mulder smiled.
"And Scully, I want to apologize to you. I was pretty
rough on you today. What happened wasn't your fault. I
really am a klutz and accident prone. Skinner wasn't
wrong."

"Well, you can make it up to me tonight," she smiled
back. "Or I can make it up to you. Why don't you come
over to my place for dinner? You aren't in any shape
to cook and, well, I feel guilty about injuring you.
I'd like to make it feel better." Her smile grew to a
delicate leer.

"Agent Scully, you know what I like. Lead the way!"
Mulder left the briefcase on the desk and followed her
out the door.

He was still following when she opened her apartment
door. "Why don't you go sit down and I'll get you an
iced tea," she pointed at the couch. "No, I don't want
you helping in the kitchen. You'll hurt your arm even
worse. Here," she handed him the channel switcher.
"Turn on the news."

Mulder had no choice but to comply. And as she entered
the kitchen, the sound of the evening news was blaring
from the television set. Good.

She opened the refrigerator and found the bowl of
crudites she'd left there that morning. Good. Now for
the dip. She pulled both containers from the shelf and
rummaged further. Grapes and cut fruit pieces and more
dip, yogurt this time. And, oh yes, she giggled. This
will be fun. She removed the third tray and the
mustard dispenser.

She carefully microwaved the third tray until it was
just warm and set the french rolls next to it, then
moved all the items into the dining room. Oh yes,
iced tea glasses. She could still hear the television
in the living room. Time to change clothes.


Mulder was getting tired of the news. He'd zipped past
the major stations, to the Comedy Channel and past the
Sci Fi channel (Alien Nation, seen it...) when he
heard a feminine voice.

"Mulder, dinner's set up in the dining room! Why don't
you come on in."

Good, he thought, food. Scully's a better cook than I
will...ever...ohmigod....

Scully stood next to the table dressed only in a smile
and those 'fuck-me' black heels she was fond of
wearing with her 'don't-fuck-with-me' suits.

Arrayed on the table were bits of fruit, sliced
vegetables, dips....his eyes narrowed. Hot dogs?

"Aren't you hungry, Mulder? I am," she purred. "And
because you've been having trouble with your arm, I
thought I'd help you eat. Here," she picked up a
grape and popped it into his mouth before he could say
a word.

While he was chewing, she gracefully she removed a
spoonful of dip and spread it over her breasts, then
handed him a carrot stick. "Have some dip," she
purred.

He was beginning to catch on. She assumed that the
infamous Mulder intellect had finally taken in that a)
yes the food was for him and b) so was the redhead.
She moved in closer to give him better access to the
dip. Soon his tongue was lapping up dill dip from her
breasts. He stopped to suck on a nipple and was
rewarded with her intake of air.

"Mulder..." she gasped, "you haven't gotten to the
main course. Let me do the work, you're still on the
sick list..."

"What main course? I'm happy with the cuisine as it
stands," he murmured against her skin, eyes closed. He
knelt with his lips buried against her belly, inhaling
her scent.

"Protein is essential to the human diet, don't you
think?" she picked a hotdog out of its bun and
slathered mustard all over it. She waited for Mulder's
eyes to open, then delicately began placed it between
her lips and began to suck the mustard off.

He watched in awe as her little pink tongue cleaned
all traces of mustard off the frank, moving around it
and up and down it. She began to make slurping noises,
still moving it in and out of her mouth until he could
hardly stand it. He could see her saliva beginning to
run down the edges of her mouth as the hotdog was
pulled in and then pushed out between her lips.

"Scully," he said in a strangled moan, then tried to
take off his sling. She backed up with a fiendish
grin.

"You need some help with those clothes, Mulder? Here,"
she carefully helped him off with the sling, then his
shirt and trousers. When she got to his boxers she
smiled. "You wore the silk ones. I'm glad," and slid
both her hands down either side of the boxers, pulling
them off him.

He was hard and ready for her, but when he tried to
take her in his arms she stopped him. "Not yet,
Mulder. There's lots more to come. And besides, you
haven't had dessert." She moved to the table where a
jar of maraschino cherries and Magic Shell sat in
solitary glory.

"Want my cherry?" she asked and placed one between her
lips. Mulder lunged forward and took it from her with
a hungry look, gradually working his lips and tongue
down her body to the crevice between her legs.

"Scully....this...all this was for me?" He said,
kneeling at her feet. She dipped two fingers into the
jar of cherries and carefully poured the chocolate
sauce onto a cherry. He watched the chocolate ooze
out, drop by drop, until the cherry was coated.

She met his eyes languidly and spread her legs, then
tucked the cherry inside her. "It's all for you,
Mulder. Only for you."

He met her eyes as she slowly sat down on the dining
room chair, spreading her legs for him, naked but for
the shoes. He grinned and used his tongue to find the
cherry. And other things.

She shuddered and bucked with the movements of his
tongue and lips. "God....Mulder...oh my God..." she
whimpered breathlessly.

"Yes, Scully, I found the cherry," Mulder grinned up
at her, cherry clenched between his teeth. "But I'll
share," she leaned down into his kiss and they shared
the taste of chocolate, maraschinos and her.

"Mmmmmm," Scully sighed. "That's wonderful, but I
think your shoulder needs a hot shower now."

"Don't you mean that my shoulder needs a nice long
rest in a soft bed?" he asked coaxingly.

"Nope. Shower. Doctor's orders," She held out her
hand and led him into the bathroom. "Besides, we're
both sticky."

"Yeah, and I'd like to get stickier," Mulder added.

Scully turned on the shower spray and stepped inside,
pulling him in after her. "No, don't move your arm.
I'll do it," she grabbed the liquid soap and began to
gently apply it to his body.

"Scully, " Mulder leaned back against the shower
stall, feeling her little fingers rub the soap into
his shoulders. "Did you ask that clairvoyant any
questions of your own? I mean, I would."

She moved down to his abdomen, kneading her fingers at
the taut flesh there. "Oh, I had a question, all
right. I was curious about how knowledgeable this
woman could really be, so I decided to give her an
objective test."

Scully went lower and cupped his balls in one hand,
his cock in the other. Mulder cracked open an eye to
watch her slip the head of it between her lips. And
move it in and out of her mouth.

"Oh...God...." he managed to get out before he got
lost in the sensation. She took her mouth off of him
and began pumping him with her hand instead.

"I did ask her a question and she gave me an answer,
but it remains to be seen whether she was correct or
not."

"Whaaa....what did....you...oh god...ask her?" Mulder
could feel his voice catch as her fingers sped up the
pace around his penis. She got up, still pumping him,
and began to spray the soap from him with the handheld
shower massager.

"I asked her what it would take to give you an evening
you'd never forget, to turn you on so much that you'd
scream with pleasure," she turned the massager and,
holding his penis in one hand, trained the spray
directly on the underside of the head.

"Oh....MY GOD....JESUS...SCULLY....SCU...." his voice
faded into incoherency while he pumped and sprayed
cum into her hand. His legs gave way and she carefully
helped him sit on the bathtub floor while he caught
his breath. Slowly the glazed look left his eyes.

"She..told you to do this?" he finally gasped, noting
the humorous look in Scully's eyes.

"Well, I wanted to make it up to you for your
shoulder. That was the only question I could think of
that would be truly objective." Scully grinned at him.
"Was she right?"

"Oh yeah," Mulder groaned. "But I think I want to see
this woman tomorrow."

"Why?" she asked.

"I have a question for her."

END...