Silhouette
by h0ldthiscat

Feedback: http://h0ldthiscat.tumblr.com/
Rating: R
Category: XF Revival

Summary:  Something happens then, she feels something
surging within her, something powerful and beautiful as she
looks up at him. Something that is the reason why she loves
him and why she fled. Something that is the reason why she
comes back.

Notes:  For a mutual on tumblr who wanted something inspired
by Ani DiFranco's "Overlap." This is an incredibly loose
interpretation.

This takes place in the same revival universe as my piece
Contact, but is in no way related.

***

"Wait, wait, stay right there!"

She freezes coming back from the bathroom and puts her hands
up in a lame attempt at humor and a little bit out of habit.

"What are you doing?" she asks.

"Stay there," he repeats. He stretches over toward the bedside
table, leaner than the last time she'd seen him, and grabs his
phone.

Immediately she is on to him. "Oh for the love of--"

He raises his hands in defense. "No, you just look--"

"I'm not letting you take naked pictures of me--" She stomps
toward him and climbs back onto the bed, reaching for the
phone.

"Just to have when you--"

"I don't want it to end up on your website somehow, or--"

"What, don't you trust me?"

"Are you kidding me right now?"

"Fine, if you don't want me to, I won't." He surrenders and
puts his phone back on the table.

"Good." She slouches back down beside him and pulls the
duvet over her body, not covering herself all the way.

"Do you have to work in the morning?" he asks after a
moment.

"Why did you want to take my picture?" she asks after another
longer one.

He shrugs, always a sign that his answer will be disarmingly
honest. "Because you looked beautiful. You look beautiful all
the time but there was this... backlight, I don't know. This light
from the bathroom and I could see your silhouette and I wanted
to have a picture."

"Isn't that what your photographic memory is for?" Not really
sure what she's doing, she turns over on her stomach and pulls
the duvet cover down so that it rests just below her ass. "Take
one of me like this."

"What?" For the first time tonight she notices how tired he
looks.

She props herself up on her elbows. "If you're going to take a
naked picture of me I want you to be able to see me."

"I don't want to if you don't--"

Scully reaches over, slides a hand up his forearm. "Mulder. I
want to. I want you to take my picture."

Keeping his eyes on her, he reaches for his phone again and she
thinks his hands might be shaking.

"How do you want me?" she asks, letting her voice slide down
low in her throat. 

"Hair over your left shoulder," he says, watching her on the
screen, almost hypnotically. "Here." He reaches out and
brushes her hair across her back. She arches into his touch, lets
out a long, slow breath. "Move your arm here..."

"Do you want to see my--"

"You're good," he says, and she hears the camera click.

Something happens then, she feels something surging within
her, something powerful and beautiful as she looks up at him.
Something that is the reason why she loves him and why she
fled. Something that is the reason why she comes back.

She pushes herself up, stretching her arms out fully and leaning
her head back, arching her spine in a blissfully painful way.
"Keep going," she says on an exhale.

Mulder sits up onto his knees now and the bedsheet falls away.
She sees him hard for her through his boxers and it only makes
her ache more. He rises from the bed and comes around to
shoot her from the other side, his eyes flicking from her image
on his phone to her form on the bed.

"Why don't you tell us how old you are, Scully?" he teases.

She actually grins at that, thinking of the box of VHS tapes
collecting dust under a table somewhere. Now he's got his own
adult photo album, starring her. Something occurs to her
suddenly.

"Why didn't we do this years ago?" She turns onto her back
and grabs the bedsheet to half-cover her torso in a way that she
hopes is tasteful and sexy at the same time.

"That's the sixty-four thousand dollar question, isn't it?" They
both smirk. The camera clicks a few times. "I just never
thought you'd want to."

"Mulder, you should know by now that there are very few
things I don't want to do." She lies down on her back and
positions her arms above her head. "Do one like this."

He adjusts, resting one knee on the bed. "There's a shadow..."
Carefully, he leans down and takes her wrist in his hand. She
wonders if he can feel her pulse thumping. With the tender care
of an artist posing his model, he raises her arm slightly over her
head to rest on her tousled hair. He doesn't let go.

They stay like that for a moment, him curled over her form,
grasping at her wrist, straining against her leg. His phone is in
the sheets somewhere. She breathes slowly, in through her
nose, out through her mouth, and tries not to squirm with
anticipation.

"Do you have to work in the morning?" he asks again.

"No." Her tongue darts from her mouth to wet her lips and her
chin juts up proudly.

"Good."