Title: I'm Rubber, You're Glue
Author: David S. Written: 2001
Rating: R for adult situations (masturbation), NC-17 eventually.
Keywords: MSR, S, H

Disclaimer: The X-Files is owned by someone other than me. I am not trying to profit off of them. In fact, my wife is making me write this. Sue her! By the way, the character of the old shopkeeper is all mine, baby! I retain all licensing rights, so expect to see an action figure of this fantastic new character!
Archive: Yeah, just as long as it's not on somebody's "Worst Of" page. Eviscerate me behind my back, not to my face.

Summary: Mulder and Scully find the fountain of youth and discover it's not all it's cracked up to be.

Notes: It's got humor. It's got lust. It's got mosquitos. What more could you want?

A major shout-out to my honey Satina, who was my beta, which I thought was a type of fish, but she informed me otherwise. She told me when I screwed up-- "No, honey, Mulder cannot jump buildings. That's the Bionic Man". She also explained to me what a maillot was. Thanks babe!

Spoilers: None... It's not really beholden to continuity, but it does take place in Florida and deals with the fountain of youth, something they touched upon in "Detour." I mention that case, but don't really give away any major plot points from it. If you've seen it you'll get one of the jokes I make and if you haven't seen it... c'mon! You call yourself an X-Phile? It's a great ep! Go find someone who's taped it and watch it! Other than that, I imagine this taking place somewhere in Season 7, before -duh- Mulder was abducted.

Feedback: Please send it to bizzzichick@yahoo.com. She'll share it with me. But only the nice ones.

"Mulder, you are old. Aged. There's nothing wrong with it. It happens to us all. And, no you're not getting junk mail solicitations for membership to the AARP... yet..., but you are reaching the age where "Diagnosis: Murder" is becoming an increasingly more intriguing show."

Scully stood there, hands on hips, looking exasperated, exhausted, dirty, miserable, and, in Mulder's eyes, perfectly luscious. Her eyes, if Mulder had actually been able to maintain eye contact instead of drifting over her body, were quite clearly communicating to him deep annoyance. Her ensemble, a white tank, khaki shorts, and matching vest were ordered from Banana Republic, but surely, Mulder thought, Banana Republic never looked THIS good. Mulder kept all of this to himself, of course-- his little secret smile never revealing his totally unprofessional thoughts. Still, no matter how much he tried to deny his feelings, he had to admit: He loved to see her casual. Now, what was she saying?

Mulder's face, sweating from the lush Florida heat, retained his casual impassiveness, but inwardly he winced. Ouch. "Diagnosis: Murder?" Better to be kneed in the groin than to admit to being a fan of a show that's main premise was a geriatric doctor solving mysteries in between bingo and Metamucil shots. Mulder's mind worked overtime to think of a retort stupid enough to convince Scully that her tirade was having zero effect on him.

"You got it all wrong Scully. I'm a strict "Matlock" fan," Mulder said convincingly.

Scully, realizing Mulder's joke and STILL not laughing, pressed onward.

"We've been walking in circles for hours, Mulder. In the middle of a muggy Florida swamp. I admit the first few snapping turtles we found were interesting. The snakes? Sure! Fascinating. I don't think I've seen so many varieties. And I never thought I'd ever be that close to alligators... so much in ,um, love... But the charm is starting to wear off, Mulder. And why are we out here? Research? A case? The "mothman" case, if you want to call it that, was closed. No, you want to traipse around, ruining my weekend, looking in the muck for something that doesn't even exist!"

Mulder pulled his eyes quickly up from Scully's exquisitely curved legs and struggled to say something that sounded like he wasn't thinking about sex.

"I'm so over the "mothman" angle, Scully. Stay with me. I've got bigger unexplained phenomena to waste your weekend with."

She swatted a mosquito a little too forcefully and wiped the blood on her shorts.

"Yes, well, Mulder, whatever happens out here don't expect me to sing to you again."

"That's a shame. I hear you do a mean 'Hakuna Matata.' Look. Just hear me out. There are too many compelling reports giving credence to the existence of a Fountain of Youth, Scully. A mythical spring giving those who bathe in its waters eternal youth and beauty. There's also many stories that describe a healing effect that it has on the sick--"

"Mulder, you're buying into the delusions of those who can't-- or won't-- come to grips with their own mortality. We age. It's the way of things. We age, then we die."

"Gee, now you're depressing me, Scully."

"There's nothing wrong with it Mulder! It's perfectly natural. That's what I've been trying to convince you of for the last hour. You are old, Mulder. And it's ok! The sooner you're able to accept that, the better you'll be. The better we'll both be, because then we can leave. I hate this heat."

"Hold perfectly still, Scully."

Mulder stared at her neck intensely, signaling to Scully that either there was a large Swamp-Ape behind her ready to chomp down on her neck, or that Mulder just needed a moment to remember where the rental was parked. You never knew with Mulder. He raised his hand and swiftly thwacked her neck.


Scully arched her eyebrows, awaiting an explanation.

Mulder obliged, showing her his palm, now covered in blood and bug guts. He was almost pushing forty, but his grin was all little boy.

"Skeeter. Big 'un."

"Thanks, Mulder. I think." She smiled despite her best efforts not to.

"All right, Scully. Let's get out of here. I guess those maps Byers and Frohike gave me were wrong. But I still say there's nothing wrong with wanting to be young."

Scully instinctively prepared to respond with a speech on being comfortable with yourself no matter what the age, but decided that to do so would prolong their time in the swamp considerably. Instead, she softly bit her bottom lip and kept her mouth shut, unaware of the underlying eroticism, and most definitely unaware that she was providing the perfect image that Mulder would store in his mind and trot out every time he was to masturbate in the next six months.

Resting next to a cypress tree, Mulder checked his watch, not to check the time, but to make his eyes look at something that wouldn't give him a hard-on. He still found it intensely difficult to get Scully's lips out of his mind.

Not now, he thought to little Mulder. Not now.

"So, Mulder, what time is it?"


"Your watch. You're looking at it. What time is it?

Mulder's mind went from 0-60 and back again in 5 seconds, from a debauched fantasy that involved Scully, a pair of handcuffs, and those wonderful lips exploring his naked thighs, to the more banal reality of a nameless swamp in Florida. He looked up with a dumb look on his face. His forehead itched.

"Oh... oh yeah! The time! It's 4:30."

"Mulder, I think this heat is getting to you. Let's get back to the car and look for a motel. I've lost enough blood to these mosquitos already."

Little Mulder nodded in assent.

"Not a bad idea Scully. We could get naked and check out each other's bodies for wood ticks."

Scully stared off at a tree, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

"You say all the things a lady wants to hear, Mulder."

"Well, I have been around the block a few times, Scully."


Mulder drove confidently, absolutely positive that despite all evidence to the contrary, they were not lost. He did not let the fact that they had been driving for two hours down the same stretch of road bother him. Highway 1 had to be around here somewhere. He punched the scan button on the radio to let Scully know he was not in the least worried that they had seen no road signs for 60 miles.

"Static. There's nothing but static. Don't they have radio stations out here?"

"Depends on where *here* is, Mulder. Why don't we check the map?"

"Don't go there, Scully."

"Hmmm, maybe because... it's a map of..oh! Georgia."

Her voice went up at the end. All that was missing was the implied "Duh!"

"Hey, it could've happened to anyone. Florida. Georgia. They're right next to one another. You know. On the little map thingy. Rack! On the map rack."

"Do you have any idea at all where we are?"

"No, but I have a feeling that Hal might."

"Who's Hal?"

Mulder pointed to a decrepit-looking sign up ahead that read, "Hal's Gas Shack."

"Of course," Scully said to herself.

Hal's Gas Shack was truly that: an old shack, with two rusted-up pumps outside for gas, one unleaded and one diesel. The signs reassured customers that, yes, Kools were sold here and that all shoplifters could expect to be shot. Hal was nothing if not honest.

Mulder opened the shop's door, held it, and gently rested his hand on the small of Scully's back, ushering her in the door. As usual, he struggled to shake off his intense desire to move his hand southward. That was something the FBI Employee Handbook tended to frown upon.

A bearded man, about seventy from the looks of it, was sitting on a stool behind the counter, shoving tobacco into his mouth and watching "Temptation Island" on a tiny black and white TV.

"Dumbasses," he hissed.

"Pardon?" Scully said, trying not to be disgusted by the dark, pungent, grainy substance running from his mouth to his beard.

"Oh, sorry," the old man said. He wiped the excess tobacco spittle on his sleeve. "I was caught up in my show. All a bunch of dumbasses. Beautiful young things without a clue as to what to do with themselves."

His mouth opened and he cackled psychotically, giving Scully an excellent view of his blackened teeth. She felt like retching, but offered a polite smile instead.

Mulder walked up to the counter and set down two cans, a Lipton's tea and a Diet Coke. He also threw down an impossibly huge bag of David's Sunflower seeds.

Both the old man and Scully stared at Mulder.

"I don't want to run out," he said defensively.

"You don't happen to have any maps, do you?" Scully said. "Of Florida. The state we're in," she added helpfully.

"Hmmm, no, can't say that I do. You folks lost?"

Mulder and Scully managed to say no and yes at the exact same time.

"Um, sir, where is Highway 1 from here?"

"Well, miss, I hate to tell you this, but Highway 1 is about 120 miles that way."

The old man pointed in the direction that they had just come from.

Mulder looked down at the floorboards and bit the inside of his cheek to keep a string of expletives at bay.

"That'll be $5.98. You folks out lookin' for the Swamp-Ape?"

Mulder perked up.


Scully looked at her watch and then looked at Mulder, which, to any rational human being would indicate that they had precious little time to gab about mythical creatures that Stephen King would be hard pressed to make believable.

Mulder though, had learned to tune out the whole "watch thing" about, oh, the 3rd or 4th X-file, and it certainly wasn't registering with him now. He was in the zone. At this point, Scully theorized, she would have to strip naked, climb up on the counter, and hump the pole that held the Hostess Twinkies while singing Lady Marmalade at the top of her lungs to keep him from getting sucked into the latest unsubstantiated paranormal hoo- ha.

Maybe next time, she thought. Instead, Scully let out a tired sigh and spoke up.

"Unless you want to talk about Swamp Apes all day, I wouldn't encourage him."

The old man looked at her as if she had said: "Swamp-Ape? Tell me more, old-timer!" And, happy to oblige, he did.

"He's kinda like bigfoot... so they say. Got a pitcher of 'im right here. Clear as day."

He held up a ratty-looking tabloid, which Mulder carefully examined. Despite headlines that proffered that Jenna Bush was a Mandroid, Mulder seemed to peruse it as seriously as someone else would the Wall Street Journal. Scully rolled her eyes but neither one of the men seemed to notice.

"We're looking for the Fountain of Youth actually," Mulder enthused. "But this.. this is pretty good. Look at those fangs!"

Mulder unconsciously bared his teeth as he read.

"Actually, all we're looking for is a motel. A nice, clean, ordinary motel. Any around here?"

"Aw no miss. You're about 4 hours from the nearest motel. You need to get on Highway 1."

"Thanks. That's extremely helpful."

Mulder pointed to a crudely drawn artist's rendition of the fabled Swamp-Ape. It looked oddly similar to A.D. Skinner. If A.D. Skinner had fangs, fur, and drooled a lot.

"Look Scully, there's your boyfriend."

Scully crossed her arms.

"I'll be in the car, Mulder."

Mulder watched her leave, stealing one last greedy look at Scully's perfect ass. It was a beautiful sight and as the little bell on the front door jangled when she left, he realized, wistfully, that every time he heard a convenience store bell jingle it would cause his mind to recall the image of that wonderful ass. Like one of Pavlov's dogs, drooling for a treat.

"I better go, Hal."

"Oh, I'm not Hal. I'm Dominic. You can call me Dom. Hal's my little brother. Haven't seen him for five years. Keep on waiting for him to show up, but I don't think he's coming back."

"Where did he go?"

"Well, he's got something in common with you. He went out lookin' fer the Fountain of Youth. And I figger he must have found it."

"That's amazing."

"Either that or he got 'aten by a 'gator."

"Umm, yeah. Well, let's hope for the best. I gotta go."

"Yeah, I've learned it's best not to keep the missus waitin'."

Dom smiled lasciviously and winked at Mulder. Mulder nodded and smiled back, conspiratorially.

"You're a wise man, Dom."


The setting sun hung low in the cloudless sky, quite effectively blinding Mulder as he drove down the now quite familiar road. He hid behind the sun visor and squinted. It didn't really help all that much and made him feel like Clint Eastwood.

"Did I ever tell you I HATE Florida?" Mulder spat. "I hate the sun. I hate... I hate FRONDS."

Scully shrugged. She'd lost the energy to banter and Mulder seemed to be doing just fine without her. Her eyes began to close, involuntarily. She tried to keep them open. They closed. So nice. Opened. Closed. A glint of light flashed in her eyes, reflected from something on the side of the road. She sat up straight, totally awake now.

"Mulder. Did you see something?"

"I can barely see the road. Why?"

"I don't know. I thought I saw something. I think you should turn around."

"Was it the Swamp-Ape?"

Scully shot him "the Look",which was shorthand for: "Don't fuck with me, do what I say before I stick a pointy thing in the back of your neck. Now." She only used it in emergencies and times of stress. All in all, it was one of the most effective weapons in her arsenal. Mulder knew it well.

"Ok, ok. I'm turning around. No need to give me "the Look."

He pulled to the side of the road, checked each way for traffic, human or otherwise, and pulled back out. He drove one mile before he saw it. A small metal sign, planted into the ground bearing one word: REST. The sign was in the shape of an arrow and pointed off onto a dirt road.

"Whaddya say? Wanna check it out?"

"Oh why not Mulder. I don't think we've seen that part of Florida yet."

Mulder heard the sarcasm in her voice, but he wasn't about to be fooled. He knew she was just as curious as he was. He turned onto the dirt road, grateful not to have the sun in his eyes.

SPLAT! Two amorous bugs in the throes of passion careened into the windshield, splattering gloriously in Mulder's line of sight.

"Wow, that's a nice sized bug. What is that, Mulder? I can't quite make it out."

SPLAT! Before Mulder had a chance to respond, another suicidal couple blissfully went out in a blaze of glory.

"Not one bug, Scully. Two. They're couples, probably on their honeymoon. Floridans call them Love Bugs. They fly around screwing their brains out. What a way to go, huh?"

Mulder pushed the wiper button. As fluid spurted onto the bug guts, Mulder smiled and winked.

"Give you any ideas?"

"You're a true romantic, Mulder."

They rounded a corner and then saw what in their tired minds could only be considered a miracle from God: namely, a MOTEL. Nestled in between magnolia trees lay a humble, plain-looking Series of cabins. A wooden sign read: Ponce de Leon Motor Court Inn.

"Is that... is that a motel, Mulder?"

"Yeah, clear back in the woods. Are you creeped out yet?"

As they pulled up, the radio's static cleared up instantly, playing for them the melancholy "Stardust", sung velvet-smooth by Nat "King" Cole. Ol' Nat lamented in his special way that "Love is now the stardust of yesterday, The music of the years gone by."

"Well, Mulder, let's be reasonable. Just because we can now get a radio signal--"

"In the woods. Next to spooky cabins out in the middle of nowhere."

"The cabins are not "spooky."

Scully held up two fingers on each hand and wiggled them, emphasizing his choice of phrase, not hers.

"In fact, Mulder, these types of places are typical getaways for people who want to camp, but would like some amenities. Like--"

She noticed a sign that said POOL and motioned to it.

"Like a pool. Wow. That sounds really, really nice. Come on, Mulder. I'll protect you if the caretaker likes to dress up like his mother."

"Well. Ok then."

Mulder shut off the ignition and they both got out. The magnolia blossoms, in full bloom, looked and smelled like a slice of heaven. The light, tangy, almost citrus scent relaxed them and instantly took a day's worth of stress away from them.

They entered the main cabin. A sign let them know that there were vacancies, in case they had happened to miss the empty parking lot. The tiny foyer was decorated with a stuffed swordfish, two pea-green lounge chairs and a coffee table decorated with vintage Life and McCall's magazines. There was a calendar, inexplicably stuck on February 1953 and featuring a picture of Betty Boop patriotically waving a flag and winking, implying God knows what. The room further boasted, not one, but two vending machines, one of them seemingly offering glass bottles of Tab to the exclusion of anything else. The other one, a nicotine fanatic's dream, sold an astonishing array of cigarettes, everything from Morleys to Kools. A ceiling fan turned at a leisurely pace as if it had realized it had nothing better to do with its time.

A lanky 14 year old boy sat behind the front counter, reading a beat-up Jack Kerouac paperback. The cover was ripped off and Mulder couldn't make out the title, but he assumed it was "On the Road."

"Hi there. Boy we're glad we found this place," Mulder said. "Um, is there an adult around? We'd like to get a couple of rooms."

"Ah'm it, I guess," the boy drawled. "How long you stayin'?"

"Just one night," said Scully.

The boy's eyes lingered five seconds too long on Scully's chest. Scully pretended not to notice, but Mulder fully understood. If there was a man who had the strength and iron will not to sneak a peek at something so perfect, Mulder hadn't met him yet. Ironically, her gold cross, the religious symbol hanging from her neck that was supposed to represent faith and a commitment to God, instead only served to drive mens' eyes directly down to Scully's cleavage; a golden arrow pointing, not to the Heaven described so vividly in The Bible, but downwards, to a different sort of heaven all together.

"Well, you let me know if there's anything I can do for you, ma'am."

"I'll let you know."

"That'll be $26.00 even. Here's your keys."

"Wow. For both rooms? What a deal. Is the pool still open?" Scully asked.

The boy's eyes lit up.

"Well, normally it's closed, being as it's gettin' late and all... But, aw shoot, I'd make an exception for you."

The boy looked around nervously as if he expected someone to run up and box his ears for breaking the designated pool rules.

"Thank you. Meet you over there Mulder."

Scully grabbed her room key, which was attached to a small block of wood, and left. Mulder paid the boy with 3 crisp twenties and leaned over to whisper to him.

"You're a little young for her, don't you think?"

The boy shot him a dirty look as Mulder reached over and tousled the boy's hair.

"Wait a few years," he added on his way out.


Mulder threw his duffel on the twin-sized bed. The bed was covered with a magnolia themed quilt and it was easily the nicest looking thing in the room. No magic fingers, but beggars couldn't be choosers. Finally, relaxation. Nice room. Nice bed. Swimming pool. Swimming pool? Mulder's relaxation turned quickly into anxiety. Swimming pool. Scully. In a swimsuit. Little Mulder didn't stand a chance.

Mulder cursed himself for not beating off this morning. It was a necessary part of his morning routine. Working with Scully made it necessary. If he didn't release the sexual frustration at least once a day... well, let's just say Mulder was sure he'd be defending himself in a sexual harassment suit. To be honest, he had started masturbating when he awoke this morning. It was a perfect image-- Scully bent over, reaching for something, wearing nothing but garters and her fuck me pumps, looking coyly back at Mulder. Then the call from Frohike effectively made Little Mulder grow quite limp. Frohike. Mulder's anti-Viagra.

He paced. Sure, he had remembered to bring his swimming trunks, but there was no way he was going to let himself grow a trouser tent in front of Scully. Vague innuendos were one thing, an erect penis quite another. There was only one way out of this. He had to beat off. Now.

Mulder stripped off his clothes and lay down on the bed. He lightly stroked his dick, rubbing it, trying to arouse it into hardness. Little Mulder wasn't responding. He tried to think of his Dream-Scully, but it only filled him with the anxiety of him becoming erect in the swimming pool. He sat up and scanned the room, looking for anything to inspire him. Alas, though the room was homey and quite comfortable, the motel's extras stopped short of porno mags.

"Ads! Ads! I need a Target underwear ad!" he said to no one in particular.

Mulder found a newspaper laying on the nightstand and began to rifle through it. News. News. Gardening. Comics. Blondie? Damn, only Dagwood in this one. How many cartoons could you do of him making a sandwich anyways? Saddam Hussein. 'NYSNC. Well, there is that cute one. No, not doing it. Wal-Mart ad? Oh, they use their own employees don't they? Ohhh. Mulder deliberated and then put it aside just in case.

He sat down again, defeated. He sighed and his eyes drifted to a calendar hanging on the wall. Little Mulder twinged. Betty Boop winked, just for him.

"Oh, Betty!" Mulder breathed.

His penis hardened easily under his touch. He gripped it tightly, then released. While not as pleasurable as the grip of a wet pussy, it was, as millions of men had discovered before him, not bad. His grip tightened and he stroked repeatedly, fucking his fist. He felt the sensations intensify in his cock and he responded by stroking harder and harder. He felt the pre- ejaculate rise to the tip of his cock... and immediately stop as a big Palmetto bug scurried across his naked legs.

"AHHH!! Cockroach!" Mulder screamed and not with pleasure. On cue his dick turned limp.


Frustrated, Mulder gave up and put on his Speedos. He looked in the mirror, ran his fingers through his hair and scrunched up his face, a brilliant pantomime of comic rage.

"Cockroaches in Florida," he said flatly.

"You be good," Mulder said to Lil' M and walked out the door.

Scully was waiting for him beside the pool, laying on a white plastic lounge chair. She wore a plain, blue, athletic-cut maillot, as no-nonsense as one of her old medical textbooks, but damn if it didn't look good on her. Mulder saw it and felt like swooning.

"Cockroaches," he said. "Think big cockroaches."

Scully opened her eyes. Mulder's face loomed over her, somehow managing to look both cute and dorky at the same time.

"Hey Mulder. What did you say?"

"Oh.. um. I saw a cockroach in my room. Big scary sonofabitch."

"Cockroaches? They get those in Florida? I bet it was a Palmetto bug."

"Yeah. Whatever. I still don't want it in the bed. Crawling all over my... my naked body."

Oooo, Too Much Information, Mulder thought.

Scully's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly.

"Mulder, don't you think you're over-reacting? It's just a bug."

"It was huge!"

Mulder dipped his toe in the clear, blue water and wriggled it. "I'm going to have a talk with that kid." He gave Scully a sideways glance. "Or would you rather do it?"

He grabbed an inflated clear inner tube. Emblazoned on the side in bold cursive was the word "SNAPPY" and it had a happily deranged cartoon turtle head at the end that seemed to Mulder to be more scary than fun. He jumped in the pool with it, creating a mini-wave that came up and drenched Scully, but good.

"Aaaah! Mulder! That's cold!"

Mulder came up wearing a toothy grin, looking very adolescent.

"Feels good though, don't it?"

"And what do you mean 'would I rather do it?' Are you insinuating something?"

"Oh come on, he was checking you out. He could barely keep eye contact with you."

Scully jumped into the pool, swimming to the other side. A large neon pink Styrofoam noodle floated by. Scully suppressed the juvenile urge to pick it up and swing it straight into Mulder's face.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Scully lied.

"He stared at your breasts, for like, 30 seconds."

"Were you timing it? Maybe he was just admiring my cross, Mulder. Did you ever think of that?"

"Yeah, maybe he's pathologically religious. I keep my mind open to some pretty extreme possibilities, but even I can't quite swallow that one. He's a teenager. His hormones are raging, out of control. He probably can't tie his shoes without thinking about sex. You remember what that was like, don't you? So long ago... Your feminine urges wanting, no, demanding satisfaction."

"I think you're remembering your own urges, Mulder."

Mulder grinned sheepishly.

"Ok. Granted. But still, what I wouldn't give to be that age again, Scully. Think of it... A life just beginning, your sexual energy so potent it feels like you've just discovered the true magic of the world, looking at a girl and not knowing how you could possibly live without her---"

"Getting your first period and ruining your favorite white jeans. Breasts so sore it hurts to breathe on them. Body hair. Or what about hard-ons in the classroom, right when the teacher calls on you. Oily skin. Your face breaking out. Emotions out of control. Your voice sounding like a cartoon character right when you talk to the girl of your dreams. Let's face it Mulder. You're romanticizing your youth. The good old days aren't quite as rosy as you remember them.

"What was that part about the breasts again?" Mulder asked.

She ignored him and continued.

"I would never want to go back to that. I don't understand this fascination with youth... from plastic surgery to anti-aging creams.. to this! To you, Mulder...people who wander around Florida looking for the Fountain of Youth, hoping to recapture something that they never had in the first place, a mythical childhood that exists only in their heads."

Mulder paused, like he was contemplating Scully's words, then said, "You're such a glass-half-empty person, Scully."

Scully, realizing that whatever she said was to be met with a smarmy rejoinder, got out of the pool. Mulder's eyes followed her, and never had Mulder so desperately wanted to be a drop of water in his life, rolling down her body, hugging every one of Scully's curves. He closed his eyes, imagining it. He noticed his Speedos were becoming uncomfortable, for some reason. "Cockroaches," he murmured, and Little Mulder retreated.

This type of internal erotic interlude that Mulder so often indulged in was quite pleasant, but he knew if he didn't say something, Scully would pick up on the lull in conversation and realize that something was up. Literally...eagerly pushing to get out of his shorts. Thankfully, Mulder had become quite accomplished in obfuscating his lechery. He could have taught a class in it. Lechery 101. First lesson. The importance of subtlety.

"So what you're saying, Scully, is that there isn't any age you'd want to revisit? Nothing?"

Scully leaned forward on the metal support bars that led down into the pool. And though she'd never admit it, it was not all together unpleasant, standing there, wet and dripping in a skintight swimsuit, towering over Mulder. Mulder usually looked down on her and this rare opportunity to do the same made her feel something of a dominatrix.

She considered the question. Her mind functioned like a library microfilm reader as it sped backwards in time, trying to recall happy memories and wondering what it would be like to relive them again. As if she could distill everything that she was and all that she had experienced into a few select snapshots. It seemed cheap and a waste of time.

Still, her mind stopped on one particularly pleasant memory. She was nine. And she had taught her older brothers a lesson that they would never forget. It was, Scully thought, a pretty nice age to be.

"Nine, Mulder. I'd like to be age nine again." And started to walk off.

"Hey. Hey wait, Scully. You don't get off that easily. Why age nine?"

Scully walked over to the lounge chair to grab her towel. She felt a chill run through her body and goose bumps appeared up and down her arms and legs. She felt weak and grabbed the side of the chair.

"Scully? Are you ok?" Mulder began to rise out of the pool.

"Feel.. feel...funny Mulder."

She felt dizzy and she saw children's faces all around her. Girls and boys, their faces laughing. She couldn't tell if the laughter was joyous, cruel, or a combination of both. She was spinning and realized she was in the middle of a city park's merry-go-round. She held tightly to the bars of the antique safety hazard, but it was so hard to hold. She felt sick as the children--so many of them-- spun her around, faster and faster as they taunted "Dana, Dana, Dana." She let go.


Mulder saw Scully collapse face-first onto the lounge chair and he grabbed the metal rails.

Suddenly climbing was hard for him. He felt drugged and his hands could no longer hold onto the rails. As he slipped, he heard laughing; some happy, some jeering. He splashed backwards into the water and sunk in slow motion. The world looked different underneath the water, so relaxing and peaceful. He saw the clouds way up in the sky floating overhead through the haze of the water, the world's prettiest screen saver. So nice. He heard the children laugh and tease, muffled through the water, "Fox can't swi-im, Fox can't swi-im." As he drifted towards sleep he thought defiantly, "Can too."


I'm Rubber, You're Glue, rated R, (2/?)

Scully's lips pressed hard against Mulder's, so forceful, so not like Scully. He had waited how many years for this to happen? That was the first thing that he noticed, anyway. But all his late-night dreams and shower stall fantasies unequivocally did NOT include Scully pinching his nose and blowing air into his lungs. His chest raised. Scully moved quickly, and Mulder opened his eyes and then vomited water. No, that definitely was not part of any fantasy. He sat up gasping, his lungs greedily taking in the sweet magnolia-scented air. His chest burned and he looked up. Memories flooded back. He had been drowning.

"Thank you for saving me Scu--" He blinked. That wasn't Scully. Standing where Scully should have been was a girl, eight, maybe nine years old. She had Scully's towel wrapped around her tiny frame and she was shivering. She swept a dripping strand of hair from her face and made a raspberry with her lips.

"What have you been eating? Fried hamster brains?" She wrinkled up her face and rubbed the corner of the towel on her tongue, to no avail.

The little girl looked at him and snorted, pointing towards his crotch. She tried to speak and then snorted twice. She doubled over laughing and within a few seconds all communication was reduced to a Series of guffaws and snorts.

"Heeheehee.. what... what? Heeheehee.. SNuRKKKKK...Wearin' your daddy's shorts? HawHawHaw!!!"

"What, what's so funny?" Mulder asked, finding himself getting more and more pissed. He looked down and saw it. His Speedos were about 3 sizes too big now and were hanging very loosely. He hesitated and then tentatively reached down, oh so carefully, carefully and lifted his shorts up. Little Mulder had gotten much, much littler. He gave out a tiny girly scream, which made the little girl laugh that much harder.

"Oh... my... God..." Mulder intoned as he raised his hands up to his face. His fingers were smaller. His arms were smaller. His whole body had shrunk in the wash. His head jerked up, scared and exhilarated at the same time.

"I'm.. I'm a kid, again!" Mulder shouted. He stood up holding onto his shorts for dear life.

"SNORT!! I'll say." The red-haired girl was finally laughed out. "Who are you kid and have you seen my no-good partner?"

"You," he said noticing the little girl's cross. "Scully. You're Scully. Look at yourself Scully, you're young!"

"Shut up," she said rolling her eyes. "And how do you know my name little... little.."

She leaned over the pool and gazed at the precocious nine year old girl looking back at her. When she had jumped in the water, she was so focused on saving this kid from drowning, she hadn't realized how big her maillot had gotten, practically slipping off of her. If she hadn't wrapped herself up in her towel... She looked at Mulder. She looked back into the waters.

"I..I.. this can't be... I'm... I'm..."

"Believe it Scully. We're young. You and me!" Mulder enthused.


She jumped Mulder and pushed him to ground straddling him. Again, something Mulder had always fantasized about, but NEVER like this. The fall knocked the wind out of him and she began to hit him in the face over and over. He didn't realize tiny little knuckles could hurt so bad.

"I hate you! I hate you!" she yelled between blows.

Mulder finally regained his breath and pushed her off.

"Cut it out, Scully. I don't want to have to hit you."

Scully laid there seething.

"Ooo, I'm scared. I've used to having my hair pulled by TWO brothers Mulder, so why don't you just try it?"

Fatefully, a neon pink noodle floated by. Mulder and Scully both eyed it and then eyed each other. A moment of hesitation hung in the air and then they both grabbed for it. Scully got to it first and jabbed his face with the end of it.

"OWWW!" he cried. He looked at her sternly. "That hurt!"

Scully pursed her lips and batted her eyes.

"AWWW, did the little baby get hurt by the big bad girl with a big pink noodle?" Scully said in an insulting sing-songy baby talk.

Mulder face got pouty. "That's not fair. I only got one hand!" He raised his one free hand and waved it as if she needed proof of his condition. His other hand tightly gripped his Speedos to ensure that no one--- Swamp-Ape or otherwise-- got a peek at his receding genitalia.

His situation didn't really seem to be engendering him much sympathy, he noted, because here she came again charging him with her pink noodle. Mulder tried to run, but the damn lounge chair was in the way. He wasted precious seconds moving around it, but by then Scully had shortened the distance between them and began pummeling him with an energy and single-mindedness that would have impressed Krycek.

"OW! Stop it! Times! Time out!" he cried.

She continued to hit him. Those pool noodles had always looked so soft before.

"WHY! CAN'T! I! HAVE! A! NORMAL! LIFE!" she yelled between hits.

He tried to wrestle the noodle away from her, but she was stronger than she looked. He got a pretty good grip on it, but Scully did not want to let go of her weapon. She pulled on it just as he let go and she fell backwards, on her rear, with an audible thud. Her face winced in pain.

"Owwwww. Geez."

Mulder staggered up, feeling woozy, but never letting go of his Speedos.


Scully just looked at him, not answering.

"This..." Mulder breathed in, exhausted. "This ain't so bad... we get a fresh start Scully."

"I was happy with my old start, Mulder."

Scully got up, using her noodle for support, like a staff. Mulder eyed her warily.

"Hey, look at it this way. This is better than that time where we got really old!" Mulder raised his eyebrows and smiled. "Eh, eh?" He nodded forcefully, hoping Scully agreed.

She did not. She charged him one last time, ramming the noodle into him and knocking him off balance. He stumbled backwards towards the pool. In a desperate gesture he let go of his Speedos and twirled his arms comically in an effort to keep balance. This was all the opportunity Scully needed. She grabbed a hold of his Speedos and yanked them down, exposing Mulder's privates to the world. He splashed down and within seconds his head popped up, beet red.

"Hah-HA!" she laughed cruelly, twirling the Speedos around one finger.

Mulder tilted his head and lowered his voice.

"Give them back, Scully."

"What? I don't know what you're talking about."

"I mean it Scully."

She looked at the Speedos hanging off of her finger and looked surprised. She brought her other hand up to her mouth, now "o" shaped in mock embarrassment. "Oh my," she said innocently. "How did these get here? Are these.. are these Mulder's panties?"

Mulder splashed the water in anger. He could not believe that this was happening to him. He was an FBI agent. He had faced down the most dangerous, vile, sickest of the sick, if not managing to do so with total fearlessness, at the very least calm and professionalism. And now here he was, 9 years old, naked in a pool, and all that seemed important was no one seeing his pee- pee.

"They're NOT panties. They're Speedos. Now come on Scully. Hand them to me. I need to get out of here before I turn into a baby."

"Too late," she said and she held them over the edge of the pool.

"Come and get em, cowboy."

Scully's eyes filled with a cruel joy that only nine year olds can understand. She started to sing and made the Speedos do a little dance. Mulder felt helpless as Scully moved the Speedos mockingly from side to side in front of him.

"Mulder wears pan-ties, Mulder wears pan-ties!"

Mulder knew better than to try and jump up and grab them. Even if the distance was not so great, he knew that Scully would always lift his Speedos out of his reach, just at the last second. She was 9 again, and this was just too much fun. Even though he was a kid again, he could still profile with the best of them.

He cursed himself for not bringing a towel, but let's face it, he certainly did not envision any of this. He scanned the pool for something to cover himself-- a washcloth, perhaps-- anything. An inner tube nuzzled his back, almost affectionately.

"SNAPPY!" he yelled happily. He dove underneath his floating friend and resurfaced right in the middle of the tube. He sloshed his way toward the shallow end and climbed out. Mulder held the inner tube directly over his privates. He stood there, certain that the manufacturers of Snappy the Turtle pool toys could not have foreseen such a usage. Maybe when this was all over he would write them a letter.

Scully took one look at the joyously deranged plastic turtle head protruding from Mulder's crotch and doubled over, her laughing turning silent in its hysteria.

Mulder ran up to her and grabbed his Speedos from the now defenseless Scully. He felt like pushing her into the pool-- just retaliation for her past crimes. Her laughing sure wasn't helping matters. It would be so easy...

He went to grab her and then stopped. He looked up. The boy from the motel check-in counter was outside the pool fence, hiding in the bushes, watching everything.

"Scully," Mulder said. "Look over there." He nodded in the boy's direction.

"What Mulder?" she said shaking off her giggles. She saw the boy and her smile vanished. "You," she whispered.

The boy realized he had been caught. He grinned, waved, and mouthed: "Sorry."

"I'm gonna kill you, you little punk!" Scully yelled.

The kid shrugged as if to say "shit happens" and he ran off back towards the cabins.

Scully took off right after him. If you're not afraid of a little girl, Mulder thought, well, you will be. He smiled, knowing full well what it was like to be the target of such pint-sized contained fury and how lucky he was not to be in the line of fire anymore.

Mulder thoroughly checked his environs and checked them again before gingerly pulling down Snappy, who had served him well. Quickly, he pulled on the Speedos. Even 3 sizes too big he was grateful for their coverage. Snappy was all right, but that plastic had begun to chafe Lil' M.

"This is so 'Wonder Years,'" he said to the mosquitoes.

With one hand holding his drooping Speedos, he headed for the cabins looking for either his partner or that kid. He figured if Scully had caught up to him, they would be easy to find. He would just follow the trail of blood.

Not finding one, he headed for the main cabin. No sign of Scully or the Jack Kerouac fan. No screaming either, so Scully wasn't beating the crap out of him yet. He entered the foyer, now deserted and perfectly still except for a faint clicking sound that the ceiling fan would make upon each leisurely revolution. It was creepy for some reason that Mulder couldn't fathom. It felt preternaturally still, like a scene from a Kubrick movie. He glanced around nervously.

"Scully?" he yelled. "Where are you?"

He took a second to look at a picture stuck on the wall with a thumbtack. It was a black and white photo of the motel clerk and another kid. They were standing on a dock, grinning proudly, holding a huge fish. Two happy kids without a care in the world. No wonder we're obsessed with our youth he thought.

He went behind the counter and began to rummage through the drawers, unsure of what he was looking for. He opened one and amidst the junk he found two treasures. One was a pen with a swimsuit cutie on it and when Mulder turned it upside down, her swimsuit slid off, easy as pie, fulfilling the common shared fantasy of the male species, nine year old or otherwise. He laughed like the kid he was and repeated the maneuver at least 6 more times. If only he had such a pen earlier! The other treasure while inducing no salaciousness, proved much more essential. It was a box of safety pins.



Scully staggered in, out of breath just as Mulder had finished putting the finishing touches on his Speedos. He had reigned in the excess material and tightened it off with a safety pin. The material now fit snug and Mulder, once again, finally had the benefit of having both hands free.

Scully bent forwards, her hands on her knees, breathing hard.

"Huh..huh..whew! Little creep lost me. Ran out into the swamp. I didn't want to get lost out there now that it's getting dark so I headed back. Thanks for the help, by the way. Say, you look different..."

Mulder smiled and pointed to his crotch.

"Tah-dah!" he said proudly.

She walked up to him, examining it, grinning. Scully grabbed the front of his Speedos and snapped them, playfully.

"That's just so cute I can't believe it!" she cooed.

Mulder went to slap her hand away, but Scully had already retreated. He blushed angrily.

"Just stop it!" he yelled.

"Stop what?" she asked.

"Just keep your hands off my pants."

"Gladly, Mulder. Don't you worry."

"You... you just want to grab it."

Scully didn't know where he was going with this and frankly, neither did Mulder.

"Excuse me?" she said in disbelief.

"My wiener. My penis. You're obsessed with it." His voice lowered, pointedly so as if he was trying to channel Barry White. "You want to touch it."

"I do not!" Scully responded with outrage.

"Do too," Mulder said triumphantly. Anything that pissed Scully off this much had to be pretty close the mark.

"Do. Not," she said in threatening tones, even though in the back of her mind she knew that Mulder never missed a chance to cross a line.

"Oh yeah! Agent Scully of the FBI, wants to touch my penis!"

Mulder began to gyrate his pelvis, with his hands behind his head. He had a mock "sexy" look on his face, which in truth, was closer to constipation. As all nine year olds can do, he improvised a little song, right there on the spot. The tune was Kool and the Gang's "Shake Your Booty," but the words were all Fox Mulder:

"Touch, touch, touch.. Touch, touch, touch Touch my pe-nis! Touch my pe-nis!"

"Oh, that's soo funny, Mulder. See how I'm laughing. I'm really laughing."

Scully made an honest attempt at justified anger, but the image of Mulder, shaking his groove thing was just too much, and she ended up laughing anyways. Mulder smiled great big, cracking himself up, but also genuinely happy to make her laugh. He started laughing too and pretty soon, they both were literally on the floor, busting a gut with tears streaming down their faces.


Knock, knock. Mulder opened his cabin door. Scully, with an armful of clothes, walked in. She was wearing an oversized red t- shirt that had a "You've Come A Long Way, Baby" iron-on across the chest area. The shirt almost went down to her knees. Underneath, she had a pair of black cutoffs. They too were way too big. She felt like a clown.

"I found these in a dryer in the main office. They're all too big, but under the circumstances, I think we made out pretty good.And look!"

She held up a couple of mismatched pairs of cheap thong sandals.

"Flip-flops!" she said excitedly. "Now hand me the safety pins."

"Oh sure. You get the "You've Come A Long Way, Baby" T-shirt."

Mulder threw her the safety pin box. She caught it in mid-air, right before it would've landed in a big ol' pile of sunflower seed shells. She looked at the small mountain of them on the nightstand.

"Did you save some for me, Mulder? I'm starved."

"Lucky for you I got the economy sized bag."

He dug through the clothes, looking for something without frills. He found a T-shirt, too big for him, yes, but it wouldn't look too bad. It was white, with what looked like cigarette stains on the sleeves. The front was a weathered logo for the Miami Heat. He put it on.

"So, do I blend in?" he asked sarcastically.

"About as much as I do," she reflected, with a hint of sadness.

"Mulder, how are we..." She paused, not wanting to vocalize her fears. It seemed to only legitimize them, giving them shape and form. "How are we going to get back.. to how we were?"

For a few seconds Mulder stared at his sunflower seed mountain. It was hard to look Scully in the face. Finally his eyes met hers.

"I don't know. I don't know. We need to find that kid. He obviously knows about the Fountain of Youth. I'm positive that he's used it himself too. He could be over a hundred years old for all we know."

Scully sat down on the bed. She had survived so much in her years on the x-files. Surely this was just one more supernatural jam that they would eventually get out of. But what if they didn't? She pushed the thought away, filing it away in her special mental folder where she put all the things she'd rather not deal with.

"You're right Mulder. The kid is the key. He might know a way to make us the right age again. But how are we going to find him? He probably knows these swamps better than anyone. And there's only two of us... We could be here forever."

"Well, we do seem to have all the time in the world, don't we Scully? Here."

He offered her the bag of sunflower seeds and she dug her hand in and pulled out a fistful.

"Oh, thank you Mulder," she said gratefully and put several seeds in her mouth. Despite a voracious hunger, she held the seeds between her teeth, cracked them carefully, and pushed out the nutty manna with her tongue, before consuming. She held her hand up and spit the shells into her mouth.

Mulder was in awe.

"Wow. I had no idea you could do that. How many seeds was that?"

"mmmph-Five," she said while trying to eat.

"Scully, that is so cool."

"Thanks, Mulder," she said and popped some more into her mouth.

Suddenly, Mulder's Nokia rang. The two kids looked at each other, dumbfounded as to what to do.

"Answer it, Mulder!"

"But, I'm not Mulder anymore... I mean, I'm not the adult Mulder... I mean, when I answer--"

"Just answer it!"

Mulder ran to the dresser and picked up his old clothes which had been thrown on top of the cellphone. He threw his pants and shirt aside, grabbed the phone and hit Talk. Assistant Director Walter Skinner was on the line, talking in his unique gruff, but simple cadence. Skinner's voice never failed to give the impression that while he had to talk to you, there were about a million other things he'd rather be doing.

"Agent Mulder. Skinner. I was going over this "report" that you turned in and I had a few questions. Actually, I have a lot of questions, Mulder-- Mulder?"

Mulder's voice cracked and he sounded quite girlish.

"Uh, sir... We've had a bit of a problem--"

"Oh, I'm sorry ma'am. I must have dialed the wrong number."

CLICK. With that, Mulder was left with a dial tone.

"It was Skinner. He hung up on me." He held the phone up to Scully, as if she needed proof.

"Call him back, Mulder! He could help us! Surely you could convince him."

"I don't know Scully. He thought I was a girl."

"So lower your voice." Scully lowered hers. "Like this."

"You sound like you're on drugs, Scully."

"Just try it!"

"Ok, ok." Mulder turned on his phone and hit the speed dial to Skinner. The assistant director answered in three rings.


"Sir, this is Mulder."


Scully frantically waved at him. "Lower" she whispered gruffly, pointing downwards. Ah, Scully-- the world's worst charades player.

"Mulder. Fox Mulder," he said, trying to sound like an adult, but coming much closer to sounding like the monster of Frankenstein.

"Mulder? The number comes up as being Mulder. But you aren't Mulder, kid. Did you steal his phone? Do you know the penalty for impersonating a federal agent?"

"But sir, " he said, his voice veering more into Rocky Balboa territory.

"Do you think you're funny? Using funny voices? If anything has happened to Mulder, I will personally make sure that the next funny voice you do will be coming directly out of your ass. Do you got me?"

Mulder started laughing. This phone call was begriming to resemble a car wreck.

"Out of my ass?" Rocky said.

Scully grabbed the phone in a vain attempt to keep the car from going all the way over the cliff. Mulder kept close, trying to listen in.

"Sir, listen to me. This is Agent Dana Scully. My badge number is-- oh crap-- the one time I forget my badge number!"

"Save it," Skinner said. "You two are in big trouble." And with that, he hung up on them.

Mulder and Scully looked at each other. A silence hung low in the air before giving birth to uproarious laughter.

"Ohhhhh, we're in it deep, Scully!"

"You two are in big trouble," Scully said, doing a lame Skinner impersonation.

For about five minutes they acted like loons, trading goofy Skinnerisms and giggling. Finally, worn out, emotionally and physically, Scully knew it was time to leave.

"I can't even think straight Mulder. I'm going to bed. You do the same. We'll find that little shit in the morning."

She opened the cabin door. Mulder held up the bag of sunflower seeds, bashfully.

"You can take them if you want."

Scully smiled, embarrassed. She was touched by the sweetness of the gesture and realized that this was akin to Mulder asking her out to the prom.

"No... you keep them," she said. "Just save me a few for breakfast."

As she started to walk out the door, Mulder got up.


She turned around. Scully was so tiny now, a cute little girl. Not fully understanding why, Mulder longed for the way things used to be.

"Yes, Mulder?"

"For what it's worth. I'm sorry. I never thought things would turn out this way."

"I know Mulder." She paused. "I know. See you in the morning."

Mulder didn't want to be left alone, but beyond feeble sunflower seed offerings, he had no clue as how to say it. So, Mulder, as he had done so many times in the past, let her go without saying anything else. Even in youth, the ritual stayed the same. She left, he did nothing. It was comfortable and painful at the same time, but it was what they knew and they stuck with it.

He pushed the pile of clothes off the bed and for a fleeting moment wondered who they belonged to. Unsuspecting tourists, perhaps, de-aged to the point where friends, co-workers and loved ones no longer recognized them? Where were they now? Struggling to fit into a world that was no longer theirs, caught up in an ironic nostalgia for the times when they were old?

Mulder lay on the bed, desperately wanting a beer, knowing full well that it would be a good 12 years before anyone would legally serve him one. He felt so tired, almost deliriously so. He relaxed and felt the sleep overtaking him, a comfortable warm blanket covering him, and absorbing all of his troubles and fears.


THWAK! Something hit the window and it vibrated, waking Mulder from a very deep sleep. He rubbed his eyes and looked outside, the only light was the reflection from a full moon. He got up and shuffled to the window. THWAK! A shadow crashed into the window and then fell. Then nothing. He opened the window and stuck his head out.

"Hello?" he yelled.

Out of nowhere it came. It flew towards him and smacked straight into his face and then fell to the ground, stunned.

It was a big brown bat, with large ears. It let out a eee,eee,eee, sound, obviously as upset to run into Mulder's face as Mulder was to have it smack him. It collected its bearings and flew off.

"I know you guys are supposed to be blind, but this is ridiculous."

Another one swooped down from a tree, focusing, Mulder thought correctly, right on his head. He shut the window just in time and the bat careened right into it. It clung to the pane, comically, for a few seconds, and then slid to the ground.

"Am I covered in bat pheromones or what?" Mulder asked. "How am I supposed to sleep?"

He turned away before another one THWAKed. He looked back and he saw a shadow-- a man-- leaning on a tree. He was smoking a cigarette. He could almost make out the faint glow of the burning ashes. Mulder opened the window again.

"Hey! You!"

The figure just stood there, offering no reply. The glow of the ashes moved as he brought the cigarette up to his mouth and then back down again.

"Hey! I'm talking to you!"

Mulder stepped into the flip-flops and climbed out the window. He ran toward the person in the shadows. The shadow man stood his ground, unafraid of Mulder's advance. After all, a nine year old boy in flip-flops was not the most menacing of figures. Then, just as Mulder was within ten feet of him, the shadow vanished.

Mulder looked around, trying to determine where he had went to. Twenty feet away, up a small hill, the shadow was leaning against a tree, waiting.

"Who the hell are you?" Mulder shouted. The shadow was content to ignore him.

Mulder took a deep breath and ran as quick as he could- flap,flap,flap-- towards the shadow. He was not, Mulder vowed, going to get away this time. He was almost to him when he tripped on a vine. Instantly, he pulled himself up, the taste of earth in his mouth. The shadow was gone.

"Damn! Damn! Damn!"he yelled. A bat hanging from a tree tilted it's head at Mulder, surely the oddest two-legged creature it had ever seen.

He caught his breath and walked the rest of the way up the hill. He looked around, hoping to see the mystery man. Nothing. Mulder turned back, defeated.

"For the love of God! OVER HERE!," a female voice boomed in a thick, over the top Jamaican accent. "Jesus H. Christ!"

Mulder turned in the direction of the voice. He saw the shadow man, now certainly a woman, motioning his way.

"I try to be mysterious and all, " she intoned. "But you are the most thick-headed child I've ever seen. Slow too."

"Who are you?" Mulder asked as he cautiously moved closer. The moon shone just enough to give him a partial view of her. She was African-American, wearing a flowing orange dress decorated with moons and stars. She wore a matching orange turban and at least 5 different wooden necklaces. She was a big woman and had a pretty face, full of life.

"People know me as Mistress Ambrosia. Please, follow me to my home."

Mulder was dubious, but he could not resist something so intriguing. Staying here was just not an option.

"Are you Jamaican, Ambrosia?"

"Mistress Ambrosia," she corrected. "And what do you think, mon?"

He smiled nervously. She led him down a path through the trees and brushes that would have been hard to find in the daytime, let alone in the middle of the night. Finally, she reached a lone shack, covered in moss. Hanging on the eves were dozens of bats.

"Well, here we are Agent Mulder."

Mulder gave her a dumb look.

"How do you know who I am?"

"Let me tell you, Fox. I been in this swamp a long time. Every ting, from da bat to da toad tell me their secrets. Nothing gets past me. Plus I looked through your tings when you were in the pool."

She unlocked the door and pushed it open. Mistress Ambrosia led him inside and turned on a lamp. There were beautiful paintings on the walls, bright colors highlighting a myriad of African animals. Masks, statues, and candles lined the mantle of the fireplace. Various bat talismans littered the room. To a young Mulder it looked cool and scary at the same time.

Mistress Ambrosia motioned to an afghan covered sofa. Something furry jumped off the sofa and scurried off. Mulder didn't know what it was and tried not to think about it.

"Please, have a seat. I will make you a cup of tea."

"Thank you. You look very familiar to me. Have I met you somewhere?"

"Maybe you dreamed about me," she said enigmatically.

Mulder noticed a big stuffed bat hanging on the wall. He reached up to touch it, then thought better of it and sat down.

"What's with the bats? If you don't mind me asking."

She walked back in with two bottles, handed him one and then eased into the rocking chair opposite from him.

"I'm all out of tea. Tab ok?"

Mulder nodded and took one, his dry throat grateful for the bitter syrupy concoction.

"As for my little pets... they're my friends, Fox."

"Yeah, well, your 'friends' seemed pretty interested in crashing into my window earlier."

She smiled warmly. "I was just trying to get your attention."

"You couldn't knock?"

She hesitated. Was there a hint of embarrassment?

"Well, you see Fox, I'm trying to teach my friends tricks. I want them to learn to carry tings to and fro, like carrier bats."

"Carrier bats?" he said, disbelieving, taking a swig of Tab and almost spitting it all over Mistress Ambrosia.

"Mmm-hmm. They seem to have a problem with the windows, now don't they? Hah-hah-hah!!"

"If they're your friends, then why do you have a stuffed one on your wall?"

Mulder pointed to the huge carcass hanging over the fireplace.

Mistress Ambrosia laughed, snorting Tab up her nose. She wiped it away good-naturedly.

"Hah-hah! That's Luther. And he's not dead! He's sleeping in, the rascal."

Mulder looked up and shuddered involuntarily.

"I'd wake him, Fox, but he's been kinda cranky lately. I'm sure you'd much rather hear about the Fountain than play with my little friends."

Mulder swallowed. She had his attention now.

"You know about that?"

"Oh, my yes, I do. It happens at least once a year. Hal just thinks it's a riot to let people into the pool, unaware of its magical properties."

"So that kid is Hal? I knew it!" Mulder beamed.

"Oh yes, the little stinker. He got me in there one time. Madly in love with me he is."

She stared at nothing in particular, recalling something in her head, that seemed to Mulder to be a mixture of fondness with annoyance. Her index finger absent-mindedly tapped the top of the Tab bottle.

Mulder looked at her in shock. Mistress Ambrosia took a sip of her Tab, savoring both the soft drink and Mulder's confusion.

"But...how did you.. I mean you're..um.."

"Old? Pfft. I'm only 48 you know. But I know what you're gettin' at. I'm not some teenager."

"Didn't you like being young?"

"No, no. I done it once already. That's enough for me. Mistress Ambrosia knows her place in the world. People got it all backwards. They focus on the flesh, when it's the spirit that needs tending."

"So there must be a 'cure', right? How does this Fountain work?"

"Whoa, slow down! There is a 'cure', in a manner of speaking. It's not pleasant, by any means, but it worked for me. As for the fountain, I thought it was obvious how it worked..."

Mulder lifted his eyebrows, the universal symbol for, "go on..."

"It's magic, ya idiot. You could probably figger out a scientific explanation, but it all boils down to magic."

"I know somebody who might argue that with you."

"Well, I do know this. You will sweat some of that magical water out of you. It takes about, oh, 12 hours or so. So expect to hit puberty in a few hours."

Mulder stood up. Did he just hear her right?

"You're kidding."

"Mistress Ambrosia does not kid. Well, most of the time, anyways. But I do not kid about the Fountain. The rest of the magic binds itself to your body, keeping you young."

"So I'll be stuck a horny teenager." His mind wondered what a teenage Scully would look like.

"Fraid so, Fox. Unless I help you. There is a way and like I said before it's not pleasant. It took me a year to figger out the cure. A virus."

"A virus," Mulder repeated.

"Yes, a virus. Very deadly. I keep a strain of it in a vial, just in case Hal ever tricks me. It makes you really, really sick and the fever burns the magic water out of you and you return to your normal age."


"The virus could kill you. It's very strong."

"So what did you do?"

Mistress Ambrosia put down her cup and got up. She walked over to the kitchen table and pulled something out of a bowl. She walked back to Mulder and showed him.

"A root?" he said.

"There's more than a few variants of this partic'lar root. Some call em Love Roots, some osha. This one comes from a plant I've only seen growing once, in my back yard. You grind this up, with a little of this and that, and it cleans you right up from that nasty virus."


"I wish you'd stop sayin' that."

She put the root back in the bowl, sat down and began to rock.

"Well, you see, Fox, this is enough to cure one but not two. This is my last one."

"And you can't get any more?"

"Well, I do know someone who has one, but good luck gettin' it."


"Hal. The stinker."

"This is incredible. Faced with a problem that science would be hard-pressed to solve, you're able to call upon your beliefs in nature and mysticism to concoct a potion. Magic fights magic."

Mistress Ambrosia waved her hand in dismissal.

"You do like to talk, don't you? Actually, I got the recipe from a homeopathic bulletin board on the Internet. I like your telling better tho'. I may have to use that. Magic fights magic. That's a good one."

Mulder tried to look casual as he scanned the room for signs of a computer. Nothing. Not even a Yahoo magazine lying around.

Mistress Ambrosia grabbed his empty and dropped it and hers into a bucket. They clinked loudly, joining the swelling ranks of empty Tab bottles.

"You best be going. I gotta go to work and you need your sleep. I'll make you a potion, but you need to get that other root."

"I will. I'll find Hal and give him over to Scully. A few minutes with her and a Styrofoam pool noodle and I imagine he'll give up that root pretty quick."

He started to leave and then stopped.

"What kind of work do you do?" he asked.

She smiled, as if she had a big secret.

"Aw Fox, I thought it was obvious. I help people."

Silence. Mulder waited politely for some elaboration on this, but it never came.

"Ok," he said finally. "I can't thank you enough."

"Save your thanks till I've actually done something. Get me the root, Fox."

Mulder nodded, opened the door, and left.

Mistress Ambrosia stood there counting.

"One... two...tree..."

The door opened and Mulder popped his head back in.

"Um, where the hell am I?"


End part two

FIC: I'm Rubber, You're Glue, NC-17!!!! (finally!) MSR 3/? WiP

I have a raging hard-on, a half-awake Mulder thought. Not just mildly erect or partially pliant, but a rock hard, "I could break bathroom tile", full-tilt, I need lovin' petrified woody.

He reached down and gripped it, not to pleasure himself, but to check the size of his equipment.

He had just awakened from a wonderful sleep, one of his most pleasant ever, right up there in his top five. Mulder lay there and was vaguely cognizant of the dream leaving his consciousness, like a hedonistic carnival, taking down the tents and breaking down the rides to put into storage until his next dream. He tried to recall the dream. It was hazy. He had orange hair and people called him Archie. Scully was Betty and Diana Fowley was Veronica. They were both fighting, quite spectacularly Mulder remembered-- hair pulling, claws scratching, nothing was spared-- over who had the honor of giving him a blow job. "Ladies," he said good-naturedly, "there's enough of me to go around." Just then Krycek--er Reggie?, showed up. It faded from that point.

Mulder's eyes opened. "Holy shit!" He jumped out of bed and stood in front of the mirror, penis still standing straight as a diving board. The nine year old kid was gone, replaced with the still-developing frame of a 15 year old. His face, though spectacularly devoid of worry lines and sporting a couple of questionable blemishes in their stead, was his again.

"I'm a teenager," he exclaimed. "And I've got a penis!" He held it tightly as if might disappear at any second and watched himself in the mirror. "Look out ladies!"he said in a mock sexy voice. He put his hands in front of him, gripped the body of an imaginary Scully and began to thrust comically.

Knock! Knock! The door shook, interrupting Mulder's private time.

"Mulder, it's me! Open up!," Scully shouted. Her voice was no longer the chirpy cuteness of a nine year old. And while it also was not the sultry alto of an adult Scully, it was low and rich enough to let Mulder know that she had grown.

"Gaaahh!" Mulder responded frantically as if Scully had just caught him imaginary-fucking her. He pulled out some underwear from his duffel bag, still too big, but better than nothing.

"Mulder, I have to see you. You won't believe this. I'm older, Mulder!"

Just a minute, I'm playing with myself, thinking of you, he thought while instead vocalizing: "Just a sec, Scully. I'm brushing my teeth."

Uhhh. That sounded lame.

Silence. "Why can't I come in while you're brushing your teeth, Mulder?"

"Um, I'm feeling ... ashamed?" His lies were so bad he winced. And why did it sound as if he had just sucked helium?

Mulder found a pair of pants in the clothes pile and put them on. Yes! He had found a nice denim pair, Wranglers. They too were a little large on him, but still fit him much nicer than anything else. They hung low on his hips, giving him the feeling they were about to slide to the floor.


"Yes, ashamed. My teeth. I didn't brush them yesterday. The plaque is horrible, Scully. I... I didn't want you to know."

Mulder sounded as if he might start crying at any minute. He pulled on a T-shirt that proclaimed he was "Property of Starfleet Academy."

"Oh yeah," he said. "Lookin' good."

He ran his fingers through his hair, adjusted his still hard penis so it wouldn't show so much, and then opened the door. He saw her. An electric current traveled through his cock.

"Mulder, my god, look at you!" Scully smiled. She appeared amused (delighted?) as she circled Mulder, checking him out as if he were a prize cow at the county fair.

"So this is what you looked like when you were 16, Mulder. This is so weird."

Mulder remained perfectly still. Maybe she wouldn't notice his hardened state.

"Mulder, can you speak? Mulder, hell-looo!"

Scully stood before him, no longer a little girl, but a teenager, probably about sixteen. She was wearing her white tank, and while it looked good before, it had been partially covered with a vest. Nothing obstructed his view now. And oh, what a view. The tank hung a little loose, making the neckline fall a bit lower than usual. He felt sinful, his eyes taking her in. If thine eye offends thee... Mulder wouldn't have lasted too long in Old Testament times.

The gold cross caught the sunlight and glinted as if to say: Down here, Mulder. His eyes followed it obligingly. The loose neckline offered criminally tantalizing glimpses of roundly swelling breast, and her semi-hardened nipples pushed on the cloth, teasingly. Fuck me. Scully wasn't wearing a bra.

To cap it off she also wore the same black denim shorts that she had worn as preteen Scully, but now they fit perfectly...maybe even a bit tight. They complimented her hips, curving along the lines of her still-developing frame. It was almost too much.

The voice of reason inside his head spoke, so faint, so far away. "Say something, moron!" But how could you speak when you had forgotten how to breathe? Forming a simple sentence became an impossibly complex task. The synapses fired weakly, like an engine that wouldn't turn over.

"Scully... I was..."

He pointed at his room while explaining.

"And then I..."

He was making no sense. And why should he? All that mattered stood before him. His eyes betrayed him as they traveled back to Scully's chest. He wanted to rip that tank off of her so bad. He sighed. Now he knew what a typical day for Bill Clinton was like.

"Well, you see, Scully.. I was..."

It dawned on her what was going on. Mulder was checking her out. Her face flushed. She felt simultaneously flattered and pissed off. Did he have to be so obvious? She resisted the urge to cup the objects of obsession and thrust them in his face threateningly. That would give him something to look at. She confronted him with a little less fanfare.

"They're called breasts, Mulder! You've seen me with them before!"

Mulder's face suddenly appeared sunburned.

"No, I was, uh, admiring your cross, Scully!"

"Right, Mulder. You're.. what did you say... pathologically religious. For your information, my teenage breasts are smaller and my bra wouldn't fit. I wasn't putting on a little show for you."

Scully's inner voice disagreed. Yes you were! You could have put on the vest, you could have worn something else, but no! You couldn't wait to show off this body to an appreciative teenage Mulder! Scully hated her inner voice, but at this point it was hard to argue. She shifted as her oversensitized nipples brushed the cloth and stiffened further.

Mulder opened his mouth to issue another lame excuse, thought better of it, and shut it. Being male though, he went right ahead and opened it again. Self-preservation was not his strong suit.

"I'm sorry Scully, it's just that..."

"What, Mulder? What?"

"It's just that you're so... pert." Mulder couldn't believe those words just came out of his mouth. Did being a teenager mean you had to say whatever stupid thing popped into your head? It was beginning to look that way.

Scully rolled her eyes and pushed her way into Mulder's cabin.

"Oh, brother," Scully said. She turned and shot him a look. "Act your age, Mulder."

Mulder opened his mouth and Scully cut him off.

"You *know* what I mean."

She was just about to let the whole thing drop and move on when she noticed how lumpy Mulder's jeans looked. In fact, it was pretty near impossible to miss the way his crotch was bulging, something inside obviously wanting out. An answering something inside her tingled.

"You're pretty pert yourself, Mulder." She tried not to smile and looked away quickly.

Mulder's face, renowned for it's impassiveness, looked incredibly, unmistakably guilty. Oh shit. Busted. Quick, come up with something! And you! Down! Down, boy!

"These pants aren't the right size?" he said meekly.

"Are you asking me? You want me to check the label?"

"Could you?," he said, knowing she was joking, but still praying that somehow, someway that she was not.

Instead of answering, she let the question hang. She let herself plop onto the edge of the bed, mattress jiggling. Her breasts responded in kind and Mulder made a mental note to find out what brand of mattress that was and to never buy another brand of mattress, ever, ever again.

"I'm starving, Mulder. Feed me."

Mulder cocked his head. She's... she's teasing me. She's flirted with me before, but this is full throttle teasing. I... I have no defense!

He brought her the bag of sunflower seeds and sat down beside her. It was a wonderful thing just to be next to her and he felt lucky. She grabbed some and ate them, repeating the same method that she had used when she was a nine year old. It looked quite different now. Only Scully could make eating sunflower seeds erotic. She held them between her teeth, delicately, careful not to bite down too hard. She pushed down with her teeth and the seeds, opened, willingly, offering the meat inside. Her tongue coaxed it out and she feasted.

She looked around for a place to put the shells. Mulder held his hand out. She took it and guided it to her face. Scully pushed the shells out gingerly with her tongue onto Mulder's cupped hand. Her tongue ran lightly up his finger with the first shell. A twinge of pleasure ran through him, an expressway straight to his cock. As she did it again, it took all the will power he could muster to keep himself from shuddering. Did she know what she was doing to him? He pulled his hands away and threw the shells on the floor. They looked at one another and Mulder held up the bag.


She said nothing, but nodded. He pulled some seeds out and reached out, his fingers holding a seed to her mouth. She looked at him, her eyes darker somehow. Her lips were parted, inviting him. His finger entered her mouth slowly and he felt her tongue twirl around it and take the seed. Concurrently, his dick swelled and he had to close his eyes. Yes, she knew exactly what she was doing to him. No pretense now. No FBI. No emotional baggage. Just two teenagers, unsupervised, in a cabin.

She grabbed his hand, his index finger still inserted in her mouth. Scully closed her eyes and pushed it further into her mouth, sucking it, her tongue making skillful circles around it.

Mulder opened his eyes, in ecstasy. He couldn't remember ever being this aroused. Sure, for years, he learned the art of self-pleasure with videos, toys, and magazines. But he would gladly trade all of the joyless fucking captured in those movies for one finger-sucking from Scully.

With his other hand he grabbed Scully's waist and pulled her closer. He felt the half-inch sliver of skin between tank-top and shorts, and his body jolted once again with the excitement of flesh meeting flesh. His hand instinctually slid in and up her tank. This dream I'm having, Mulder thought. May it never end.

She looked up at him and released his finger. They said nothing. Seven years of banter and the vaguest of innuendos had built up. There was nothing more to allude to. There were no more jokes to make. There was nothing else to say. All that was left was to *do*.

He lowered his head and she raised hers to meet him. Their lips touched, uncertain-- was this really happening? His grip around her waist tightened and she brought her hands up around his head. He loved the feeling of her hands in his hair. Her tongue reached out to Mulder's, moving slowly, tentatively. He responded in kind, his tongue dancing with hers, first slowly, then increasing in passion. This isn't happening, he thought. I'm underground under the influence of a giant hallucinogenic mushroom. Aw... who cares?

Their tongues met for what seemed like a heaven's eternity. Scully's neck beckoned; Mulder stopped and kissed it, realizing a dream that he had had ever since Scully entered his basement office and announced that she was going to be working with him. As his lips moved up Scully's neck, she brought her hands up his shirt.

"Mulder," she whispered.

He stopped kissing her.

"Is something wrong? Am I moving too fast?"

"No, Mulder. You're moving just right. But you've got to lose this shirt. The whole Starfleet Academy thing just isn't working for me. Raise your hands."

He was reluctant to release her waist, but he obeyed and she lifted the shirt off of him. She ran her hands up his chest and he shivered. She moved them around to the back of his neck and pulled him back down to worship her neck. He complied, eager to please.

Mulder's hands returned to her waist, immediately back inside her tank, just below her breasts. His first instinct was to grasp them, but he was controlling himself. He had waited seven long years. He could wait a little while longer. Mulder's tongue licked, leisurely exploring from the bottom of the neck up to her ear. Once there, he could not resist nibbling on the earlobe, biting it mischievously, its pleasant softness feeling quite nice between his teeth and tongue. Scully let out a audible sigh of exquisite pleasure. Mulder wondered if her earlobe, like his finger, was merely a conduit to send the jolt of pleasure downward to her sex.

She held his face in her hands and pulled it back to her mouth, hungry for more kisses. Their tongues reacquainted themselves and Mulder leaned her back on the bed. He could feel her erect nipples pressing into him even through her tank top. If this kept up, surely he would come before he even got his pants off.

It was getting increasingly difficult for Mulder to concentrate on just one part of Scully. He would move from her mouth and lose himself down her neck. And his hands! His hands roamed her waist, wanting to either go up higher or lower. So many choices!

His lips went lower, alternating between eager sucking and feather light licking. Only half-realizing it, his right hand lightly went up and cupped her breast. Scully let out a gasp and Mulder buried his face in her neck. He lifted his hand, shaking. It floated carefully above her breast, savoring the moment. Mulder lowered his hand and kneaded it softly, feeling the hardness of the nipple between his fingers. Scully's mouth parted, indicating to Mulder that he must be doing something right.

He released it and could no longer bear the flimsy piece of clothing between them. He grabbed the bottom of the tank and attempted to pull it over her. He struggled with it, but with Scully lying down, it was an impossible task.

He grabbed her by the waist and lifted her into a sitting position. He couldn't keep his lips off of her despite his current goal of getting her tank off. She had her arms around him and their lips met, devouring each other, awash in the tactile sensation that they had denied for so long. He broke away, determined to remain focused. His eye caught the sweet spot of her neck and he lowered his mouth, helpless to resist. He sucked and kissed and moved his hands upward. As they discovered her waiting breasts he remembered his mission. Breaking away again, he lifted the tank top. Scully, her eyes clouded with lust, raised her arms in compliance with Mulder's desire. The nuisance came off and Mulder threw it across the room.

He paused, taking in the sight of Scully, topless. Why did men get so crazy when they saw a pair of breasts? Looking at them sent an electric charge throughout his body, the visual image of them somehow representing all of her that was womanly. They reminded him that despite years of trying to categorize and label her as a partner, friend, confidante, that she was, first and foremost, a woman and a sexual being. They were white and smooth. Her aureole was soft pink and he couldn't help being drawn to the nipples centered in the middle. Nature had certainly blessed Scully.

His body came crashing down on hers, his naked chest touching hers. The sensations were overwhelming. Her soft, feminine skin felt so good next to his. Her lips felt so right pressed up against his. This was better than any late-night fantasy that he had put himself to bed with all these years. His tongue kept finding hers, eager to meet, eager to dance.

Mulder moved lower, anxious to focus on her chest. He tenderly ran one hand over her left breast while suckling the other. His mouth formed an "o" around her areola, creating a tiny seal. Mulder's tongue ran light circles around her nipple, coaxing it further into hardness. Scully grabbed the quilt with one hand and ran her other hand through Mulder's hair, which intensified Mulder's desire.

After teasing her nipple with his tongue, he took it between his teeth, as gingerly as she had done with the sunflower seed. He bit, carefully, and Scully responded by tightening her grip on the quilt and Mulder's hair. A tiny shot of pain from the hair-pulling mixed in with the pleasure and he couldn't help but bite down just a little harder.

Scully whispered a tiny moan. "Other... other one," she said and pushed his head over to the other breast.

Yes. Can't neglect this one. He gave it the same loving treatment, making a circular motion with his tongue, swirling, agonizingly slow. His tongue greeted the nipple, playing, teasing, flicking it. Scully gasped with each flick.

"Bite it, Mulder! Quit teasing me!"

Mulder smiled and did as she commanded, taking it between his teeth and biting, first lightly, nibbling, then gradually harder. He knew he was pleasing Scully when he felt the pain of his hair being gripped a little too tightly.


He continued to suck on her breast and knead the other one. Scully reached down and felt his bulging crotch.

"Mulder... these pants are too tight."

Between sloppy kisses he said: "You're... you're not helping."

"Well, let's see what I can do. I am a doctor you know."

She pushed him off of her and he fell backwards onto the quilt. He gazed at her through a haze of libido. She crawled on top of him, stopping at his crotch.

"That looks painful, Mulder."

"It is," he answered too quickly.

"I think I can help you," she said lowering her voice.

Now it was her turn to tease. She took her time unbuttoning his jeans. She pretended to struggle with the button, finally releasing it from its slot. Scully then slowly pulled on the zipper. His Jockeys bulged out, eager for the freedom. She grabbed the top of his Jockeys and pulled them down quickly, releasing his burgeoning manhood. His cock, finally free, stood straight up.

"Somebody's happy to see me," she purred.

Scully reached over, paused, then grasped it with one hand. Mulder gasped and he dug his fingers into the quilt. She then took her other hand and cupped it over the head of his cock and began rubbing it, as if she were squeezing a lemon.

Mulder let out a moan. He felt as if he might just dig his hands right through that quilt and into the mattress. The pleasure was intense and he didn't know how much he could take before ejaculating right on Scully's busy hands. No. There's so much more I want to do.

Her rubbing grew more intense and Mulder felt himself about to come.

"Ah. ah. Scully. Stop. Ah. STOP. I'm going to come. STOP!"

She quickly wrapped thumb and forefinger around his penis just below the head and pressed the underside with her thumb. "Think of blank sheets of paper," she said, grinning.

Mulder caught his breath. At his beckoning, Frohike's face appeared to him, a floating head. He grinned and said: "Mulder, don't come yet!" Then Langley's face leaned into him. "Yeah dude, Scully don't need no 10 minute man." Byers showed up, his floating head joining his compadres. "Really Mulder. Focus. I have some journals on tantric sex that might help you."

He felt his control returning just a little bit and the boys faded away.

"You ready?" she asked.

He nodded. Scully lowered herself so she was eye level with Mulder's dick. She extended her tongue, touching the head ever so lightly. Mulder sucked in air quickly. She brought her lips closer and kissed it. Scully moved in and licked up and down the shaft with excruciating feather-lightness. Mulder's face looked like he was in pain.

Scully stopped and paused. Mulder was just about to ask her why when she took the length of his cock into her mouth. If felt glorious, like entering a pussy, warm, wet, and inviting. Her tongue spun around his shaft and he moaned loudly.

"Ahhhh. God. Yes. Ahhhh." His moans grew to the point where he became silent, just struggling to remember to breathe, his mouth open and his eyes clinched shut. He dug his fingers into his fist now, the pain keeping him from coming.

She held onto the base of the shaft with her hand and bobbed her head up and back down again, steadily, fucking him with her mouth. Mulder held her head, not so much as to control her, but to feel the luxuriousness of her hair through his fingers. He held in his moans; to let himself go was to lose control and he did not want to come in Scully's mouth. Mulder bit his lip hard, distracting himself from the intense pleasure.

Still despite his best efforts he felt the orgasm sneaking up on him building and building, quickening along with his heartbeat. He wasn't exerting himself but he was sweating and his skin felt hot.

"Scully...ohhh God Scully... You need to stop. Please, stop!"

She lifted her head up from his engorged penis, now hot and wet. She pushed the hair out of her face and allowed herself to breathe.

"I like it when you beg, Mulder," she growled.

His eyes shone, brimming with lust.

"Now it's my turn Scully." He got up, his penis as hard as ever. He pushed the jeans and underwear off of him.

Scully sat there awaiting his next move. Mulder took a few seconds drinking in the image of her, sitting there, her breasts still flush with the passion of his kisses.

"God, you're beautiful Scully."

He sat down next to her and brought up his hands to hold the sides of her face, pulling her up to his lips. Their lips touched and it was every bit as electric as the first time. His tongue reached in and found hers, equally searching. Still kissing, he pushed her down onto the bed again, in a reclining position. He broke away and his eyes traveled down to her tight black shorts.

"My turn," he reminded her, gutturally.

He reached down and made none of the false pretense that Scully had engaged in removing his pants. He quickly undid the button, almost as if it wasn't there at all. He unzipped it just as quickly. The sweat of her body made them stick to her thighs, but Mulder, not to be denied, tugged forcefully. Scully lifted her butt off of the bed and they slid off easily.

He looked down at her silk pink panties hungrily.

"Move up," he barked urgently and she scooted up higher onto the bed, her head now comfortably laying on the pillow.

He knelt before her and ran his hand up the inside of her bare leg. He lowered himself and kissed the side of her calf muscle. Scully had amazing calves. So soft, so perfectly sculpted. With his free hand he felt Scully's opposite thigh, rubbing it and massaging it. Mulder moved his lips higher up to her knee. How many times had he snuck a look at her knees, beautiful and tempting? Too damn many to count.

As he made his way up her legs, kissing, sucking, worshipping, his hands reached up and took hold of her panties, sliding the tips of his fingers just barely under the elastic. His grip turned hard and he pulled on them. Scully responded by lifting her ass again and Mulder was relieved that she wanted him to do this as bad as he did. He flung them across the room, not caring where they went.

His mouth slowly made a trail up her thigh, all roads leading up to Scully's pussy. He rested his head on her thigh and explored with his tongue the sensitive area around her treasure. He had one arm around one leg and his other arm around the other. He could stay here forever, he thought.

His tongue danced around the edge of her clit, playing, teasing. Scully let out a moan as he did this and he could tell it was pleasure mixed with an impatient anticipation. Her hands grabbed tightly the black railing of the headboard, a much more satisfying grip than the quilt was.

"Are... are you trying, to torture me, Mulder?" she breathed.

"I'm savoring it, Scully."

Her pussy smelled heavenly. It was a tantalizing pungent scent, slightly sweet and musky. He breathed it in and felt drunk.

His tongue pushed into the wilds of her hairs, circling and circling. Finally, he pushed in with his tongue, pushing in, slowly, his wetness melting with her own. He kept on pushing, trying to get his tongue in as deep as possible.

Scully gasped and let out a tiny whimper.

"Ah! Oh, Mulder!"

He pulled out and flicked his tongue back in and out, Scully breathing sharply in with each one. Mulder entered again, deeply and swirled his tongue, effectively French kissing her hot, wet pussy.

Mulder started to pull out and Scully pushed his head back down again.

"Not so fast," she said.

He got the idea and started to rhythmically bob in and out the same way that she had done to him. Mulder increased the pressure and fucked her with his tongue. He then slid one hand in, found her clit and began to stroke it.

The combination of finger and tongue caused her to gasp again, in approval. Scully's fingers gripped Mulder's hair, pushing him up and down. It hurt him, but he was having way too much fun to care. Right now his only worry was grabbing gulps of air in the few seconds between tongue-thrusts. He took his cue from Scully, her hands basically controlling the frequency of his thrusts.

She let out a low wail, building in intensity as she forced Mulder to tongue-fuck her faster. His nimble fingers continued to massage her throbbing clit.

"Ahhh! Ahhh! Ahhhhhhhhh! Don't stop, Mulder! Don't stop!"

At this point, he couldn't have stopped if he wanted to. And he certainly did not want to. Her wet juices were flowing freely and he drank them as he went down on her, trying desperately to suck up every last drop.

Scully's moans grew louder and she twisted her fingers around in his hair. His lips felt her inner muscles contract. Scully held his head down, not letting him retreat. She clinched her ass-cheeks and lifted her pussy into Mulder's face.


Her body trembled uncontrollably and Mulder could feel the energy of her orgasm. Her pussy's juices flowed and Mulder lapped up every drop.

Finally, when he felt himself getting lightheaded from the lack of oxygen, Scully released his head. He turned, resting on her thigh and breathed in.

"Huhh. huhh. Whew! Scully."

"Get up here Mulder."

"I thought you'd never ask."

Mulder climbed on top of her, his hard cock finally about to get what it had wanted to get for the last seven years. All the porno seemed absolutely pathetic compared to this.

He held himself above her, the tip of his dick touching, just barely, on her clit. He kissed her, his tongue plunging into her mouth. Just as he was about to repeat the same plunging motion, only with his cock into her pussy, Scully opened her eyes and clinched her legs together, her thighs trapping Mulder. The tip of his cock was barely in her and her thigh muscles kept him from entering her further. The sensation was both pleasant and torturous. It felt so good, but all he wanted to do was shove it in with all his strength.

"Oh my god!" she said.

"Scully? Is something wrong?"

"I just realized! I'm... I'm a virgin again, Mulder. If you just ram that thing through my hymen, it'll hurt pretty bad."

"Do you want me to stop?" he said, a little bit worried.

"No! No! You do and I'll kill you. Just take it slow, Mulder."

He looked into her eyes. Mulder couldn't believe it. He never thought he'd be Scully's "first." Well, ok, it wasn't exactly like that, but the thought still made his heart swell.

He leaned into her, kissing her, not with lust, but with love, a love that overtook him and threatened to overwhelm him in its passion. Why had he denied himself this for so long?

She kissed him back and their tongues now met up with one another again. She relaxed her thighs and opened for him.

Mulder, with as much control as he could summon under the circumstances pushed his cock in with agonizing slowness. His dick, his whole body became enflamed with pleasure. The sensations had never felt this strong before. As he pushed in, a long, satisfying growl escaped his lips.


Scully let out a whimper as she took the fullness of him in her.

"Yesssss, Mulderrr," she whispered, her body laying under his, tantalized into helplessness.

"I'm not... hurting you am I?"

"It hurt a little bit, but it's so good. Don't you dare stop."

He lifted his head, closed his eyes and thrust slowly again, the feeling overwhelming him. It was indescribable. Mulder raised his pelvis, his dick almost slipping out. He hovered a few seconds and slid back in again, going as deep as he could.

Gradually, his pumping increased, becoming faster and more impassioned. He held himself up above her now with one arm, using his other hand to hold onto her waist, gripping her tightly as he fucked her. Mulder brought his mouth down, his lips feverishly kissing any flesh that he could reach: mouth, neck-- he tried to reach her breasts, but he was so much taller than she was, it was quite difficult to get his head down to her chest area.

He was grunting now, picking up speed. Scully was now lost in her moaning, occasionally letting out tiny screams of pleasure. Mulder felt the sensations in his cock growing; he knew he was about five thrusts from orgasm. He heard Scully's louder moans and felt her fingernails digging into his back and knew that she had to be close too. God, he hoped she got there before he did. He did not want to stop three seconds short of Scully coming.

He was awash in sensation, his whole body wet and sweating, slamming into hers. He pumped her furiously and could no longer tell whether his thrusts were beginning or ending.

"Ahhhh. Ahhhhhhh. Oh god. Mullderrrr. I'm comingggggg!"

Scully's voice let out a low murmur and dug her nails into his back. The murmur crescendoed, growing into a scream, the most intense of arias. On the crest of her orgasm she thrust her hips higher, pushing Mulder into an orgasm of his own.

He was on the verge of coming anyway and when Scully raised her hips and clenched the inner walls surrounding his aching cock, he lost it.


His body shook as he pumped her one last time, emptying his come into her as deep as he could push it. In response she squeezed him with her inner muscles, causing him to gasp.

Mulder was tense for about 15 seconds as the final bit of come came trickling out. His cock was now oversensitive and tender. They both relaxed their bodies at the same time and let out a sigh of air.

Still raised above her, he leaned in and kissed her, their lips barely touching.

"Mulder," she whispered.

"Shhh," he responded. He didn't want to say something stupid and break the spell. So many questions. Questions that didn't seem so important when he lost himself in her. His lips pressed against hers. They kissed, long, slow, and deep.

His muscles shook and he had to lay down. He lifted his receding cock out of her and they both inhaled quickly, the sensation intense. He collapsed beside her. He reached over, put his hand on her waist and pulled her over. Scully responded and laid her hand on his face, tenderly. Their eyes met.

"Mulder... I know what you're thinking. You're thinking we're not ourselves. That we're under the influence of out of control teenage hormones. That we're--"

"Scully, I love you," he said quickly never breaking his gaze into her eyes. He kissed her, his tongue penetrating those full lips.

He pulled away, love in his eyes.

"Mulder, you've been affected by unknown properties in the water. Who knows what---"

"Scully, I love you," he repeated and kissed her again. When the kiss broke, she continued.

"Mulder, what has happened here... well, it defies all laws of science. Don't get me wrong, it was incredible, but--

"Scully, I love you." He reached over and kissed her again, more passionate than before. Her tongue met his and they did their dance. She broke away.

"Mulder," she said her voice cracking gearing up for another argument. "Mulder," she repeated dumbly. Her eyes reddened and a tear welled up in the corner of her eye. What if it was true. What if... What if... "Mulder.." She lifted her eyebrows and looked like a little girl again. "Really?"

He smiled at her disbelief. How could she not see how much he loved her? How much he had always loved her?

"God yes, Scully. Really. I've always tried to hide it from you and myself. It took being a teenager again to simplify everything. I belong to you. You belong to me. Nothing else matters. I may not be able to convince you in the existence of extraterrestrials, vampires, or whatever, but by God, I will make you believe this."

She smiled and let out a little laugh. He might have been 16, but he was still *so* Mulder... his wide-eyed willingness to *believe*. And his amazing ability to convince you whether you wanted to or not.

"Scully..." he said, wiping away the tear rolling down her cheek. "Are you going to say something?"

She looked at him. He was hers. All the evidence was there in front of her. It had always been. She had always loved him, but when hints of such a love surfaced, she explained them away, disproving them as ruthlessly as she might an x-file. No, he doesn't think of me that way. No, he didn't mean to brush up against me like that. No, he couldn't possibly love me, we're much too different. She bit the inside of her cheek. She no longer wanted to explain this away.

"Scully? What are you thinking?"

"That... that..." She smiled. "That I want to believe, Mulder. I love you and I want to believe.

He grinned and embraced her, absorbing the two phrases he never thought he would hear Scully say. The kisses returned, slow and loving. Happiness. So this is happiness, he thought. I never knew.


End, Part 3

I'm Rubber, You're Glue, MSR, NC-17, 4/4

In the afterglow of their tryst, they lay in each other's arms for hours, drifting into the most blissful, deep sleep. She awoke before Mulder did and felt two overriding urges, neither of them having to do with sex. 1: She had to pee. Really, really bad. and 2: She was starving for chocolate-chip pancakes. She got up, moving Mulder's arm off of her and she went into the bathroom.

Mulder stirred. His eyes partially opened and he smiled, feeling that post-coital buzz. Damn, he felt good. And starved.

Scully came out of the bathroom wearing nothing. Mulder stared at her feeling Little Mulder getting stiff again. This has to be the best day of my life, he thought.

Scully saw his penis was stirring and she stopped, a twinge going through her as well. Fuck or go eat? Dammit, she was hungry.

"Uh... Mulder... don't get any ideas. I am *starving*."

"Maybe I could help you with that," Mulder offered.

"Later. Now I need food. Real food! I want pancakes. With chocolate chips."

As she said it, Mulder's mouth watered. He hadn't eaten anything for 48 hours either. But where in the hell could they find pancakes? The only store in miles was Hal's Gas Shack and--- Oh shit. It all came back to him. He had meant to tell Scully all that he had found out last night... Mistress Ambrosia... the virus... and the root. That the kid was really Hal, Dom's brother and that Hal had the root which could be the key to getting them back to their correct ages. He paused. But did he really want them to go back? Yeah, he knew Scully wanted to be her rightful age, but would everything go back to normal? It would be just like to Scully to deny everything that had happened here, blaming it on the water. Psychotropic drugs in the water. We were drugged, she would argue. He just didn't know what to do.

"Mulder, where did you throw my panties?"

Like a keyword in a search engine, Scully saying the word "panties" brought all of his attention back to her nakedness.

He smiled, held his hands up in the air and shrugged.

"Got me."


"I wish I could help Scully," he said trying to look bewildered and failing. His eyes betrayed him as they darted over to where they had fallen by the lounge chair by the door. She caught him looking and knew instantly where they were.

Putting them on, she said: "You're not much of a poker player,are you Mulder?" She put on the rest of her clothes, starting with her black cut-offs and then her white tank.

"Mulder, you're staring."

"I can't help it," he grinned.

Scully let him stare. He'd paid his dues.

"I've been thinking, Mulder. Maybe that gas station down the road would know where we could get some pancakes."

Crap. Back to reality again. Hal. Dom. Mistress Ambrosia. The root. He didn't want to tell Scully. He got up and pulled on his underwear, his face lost in thought. It didn't go unnoticed.

"Mulder is something wrong?"

He took a breath. He couldn't hide this from her. He couldn't, even if it meant he might lose her. If he didn't tell her now, she would find out eventually and she would most certainly be lost to him then. He struggled and felt his perfect day slipping away from him.

"Scully, before we... uh... made love... I was going to tell you something. Something that happened last night."

"What is it Mulder?" she said, her voice betraying concern.

Mulder told her, all of it. He told how he had been awakened by the bats and how he had followed a mysterious figure into the swamp. He described Mistress Ambrosia and her shack. Mulder explained the virus and how Mistress Ambrosia thought that it would burn the pool water out of their systems and how they would need the root to recover from the effects of the virus.

"Mulder, if that's true..."

"Then we could get back to normal. If that's what you want..."

"Yes, Mulder! I know it sounds hokey, but we have to try every option. We have to find Hal!"

Mulder said nothing. He felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Maybe Dom knows where he might be hiding."

"Yeah, maybe, " Mulder got up and finished putting on his clothes, trying not to let on how upset he was getting. He couldn't even look at her.

Mulder! What is wrong with you?" she said, the confusion and anger seeping into her voice. "Don't you want to get our lives back?"

He hesitated, fear in his voice. "No Scully! I don't! I want to keep the life I've gained! This one!" He gestured emptily at the room. "You and me," he said, his voice soft once again. "I don't want to lose you."

Scully stood there for a second feeling the emotion between them. Her eyes welled up blurring her vision. She wiped them, smiled, and went to him, embracing him fully.

"Oh, Mulder... It doesn't matter if we're kids or not. None of this changes. None of it, Mulder. Nothing that went on in this room will fade. I won't let it. We won't let it."

Mulder's arms hung at his sides, surprised at Scully's acceptance. She still wanted him. Just like that. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her back. It felt so good. So right.

He bent down and kissed her forehead.

"Let's go," he said.


Mulder opened the door to Hal's Gas Shack and held it for Scully, his hand back to "his spot", the small of her back. Now though, he slyly brought his hand lower, stealing a grab of that luscious ass. He had always wanted to do that. She shot him a glance, full of playful anger.

"Mulder!" she said, swatting his hand.

She entered and the little bell on the door jangled, triggering the memory of the last time Mulder had heard that bell. His dick automatically swelled not only recalling the image of Scully exiting through that door, her ass looking quite wonderful in motion, but also armed with the knowledge of how that beautiful ass felt and looked naked. Mulder's fantasies had just gotten more detailed.

Dom sat there in the exact same position watching the exact same black and white tv set. The program had changed-- he now seemed to be enthralled by some psychic infomercial-- but Dom's position had not. He sat there slumped shoving chewing tobacco in between his bottom lip and gums. For all they knew, he hadn't made a move since they last saw him.

Dom's customer service skills did not extend beyond making correct change and he didn't even bother looking away from his tv when they entered.

Scully certainly had never expected to visit this shack twice in her lifetime, but here she was. The last 48 hours had been full of surprises. It said a lot that the least of them involved finding the Fountain of Youth and de-aging, first back to 9 and then aging back up to 16. No, more incredible than that was the relative ease with which she had responded to Mulder's advances and innuendos and that she had ended up making a few of her own, their passions escalating into mind-blowing sex and then into something she really had not expected: admission of their love for one another. It felt so good... too good. How could such contentment and love be hers? She scolded her self-doubt and took a page from Mulder's book, trusting her heart, not her head.

"Dom! Good to see you!" Mulder said.

Dom tore his eyes away from the glowing box and squinted his eyes at Mulder and Scully.

"Do I know you, son?"

"A couple of days ago... we were in here."

"We were lost.. looking for a hotel.." Scully added.

"We looked a little bit... older. We were looking for the fountain of youth."

A flicker of recognition glinted in Dom's eyes, but Dom wasn't trusting his eyes.

"You're... you're not making any sense."

"We found it Dom. The fountain of youth. Last time we came in here we were in our 30's. Now we're in our teens. And we found your brother too. Hal. In fact, that's why we're here. We can't seem to find him."

Mulder tossed down the photo that had been previously hanging in the motel's foyer. It skimmed across the counter like a playing card. Scully shook her head. Mulder loved being dramatic.

Dom picked up the photo and examined it. He smiled and stared at it for the longest time.

"That was a nice summer," he said wistfully. "I caught that one." he pointed to the fish in the picture. "Hal was no good with a pole. It used to piss him off to no end. I could catch 'em and he couldn't." Dom chuckled, lost in time. "Where'd you get this?"

"The Ponce de Leon Motor Court Inn. The same motel that your brother is running."

"Those cabins a few miles down? What the hell is he doin' that for?

"Because they're sitting right on the Fountain of Youth. The water's in the pool. You didn't know about this?

Dom shifted in his seat. "Naw, I don't get out much." He grinned and pointed at the tv. On the set was Mistress Ambrosia.

Mulder pointed towards the set excitedly.

"Turn that up!"

Dom obliged, actually getting up.

Mistress Ambrosia looking insanely cheerful was sitting at a table surrounded with dozens of lit candles behind her. A large crystal ball lay before her. She was talking in her familiar Jamaican accent to a disembodied voice, who presumably was a phone caller. Mistress Ambrosia had her own 1-900 line.

"Mulder, is that--"

"Yes. Mistress Ambrosia."

In a thick heavy southern accent a woman's voice was asking Mistress Ambrosia for advice.

"Mistress Ambrosia? Is my husband cheating on me?"

"The ball don't lie, sweetpea. I see your husband giving his love to another."

"Is it my sister? Because I seen him lookin' at her..."

"No, no, chile. Your husband has no interest in your sister. He's madly in love with Leonardo DiCaprio!"

"Oh my god! Thank you Mistress Ambrosia! This explains so much, especially his obsession with the whole, you know Titanic thing. You are truly amazing."

The camera zoomed in on Mistress Ambrosia's face, extremely giddy, despite having delivered such traumatic news. A bright, flashing graphic appeared on the screen next to her head that read "CALL NOW" along with her number. She picked up a phone and shook it at the viewer forcefully.

"Questions about love? Your job? Your future? Call me, Mistress Ambrosia, sweetpeas and let me use my awesome psychic powers to help YOU."

"Mulder, your Mistress Ambrosia is a fraud,"

"No, I'm not so sure, Scully. Just because she's got a 1-900 number doesn't mean that she isn't a real psychic. After all, it's not as if she told me I was in love with Leonardo."

"Yes, but Mulder, you have to admit--" Scully stopped as a tabloid headline caught her eye. She picked up a copy of The National Spy, whose journalistic achievements made World Weekly News look like the Washington Post. Her thumb rested next to the headline: "Aliens Made Me Fertile!"

Mulder narrowed his eyes, unsure of why Scully would be interested in The National Spy. Teenage regressions, the fountain of youth, wild sex with Scully, these things were believable-- but Scully reading a tabloid? I don't think so.

"Mulder, look at this," she said weakly, handing it over.

Mulder glanced at the cheap newsprint, the black ink rubbing onto his fingertips.

"Dr. Laura Admits Love for Melissa Etheridge? I've never felt so free she says... Scully, what has this--"

"No Mulder, this one!" She pointed to the fertility story. He examined it, still not getting what Scully had seen in the story.

"Scully... I'm not sure where you're going with this."

"Mulder... When our bodies "de-aged", if you want to call it that, everything regressed to the way it was...meaning... I had my hymen. I'm a virgin... I was a virgin.."

They felt eyes upon them and both Mulder and Scully looked over to Dom, who was no longer getting sucked into his tv shows, but instead sat there with rapt attention towards them both.

"Well, go on," Dom said. "You were a virgin..."

Mulder did his polite grin and nod over to Dom, grabbed Scully by the arm and led her outside.

"Umm, we'll be right back, Dom," Mulder said. "She's shy," he added giving him a wink.

They exited the gas shack and stood outside next to a payphone that inexplicably only charged a quarter. The phone book, which, miraculously had not been ripped off, hung by a metal wire, swinging in the breeze.

"Go on," Mulder said.

"I had my hymen. What if..." she paused. She knew the truth of her words, but like many of the supernatural events that surrounded the x-files, to discuss such things, to vocalize them made them sound ludicrous. And she did not want them to sound unbelievable. She wanted this to be true.

"What if," she continued, "I had my eggs back as well? What if I'm fertile again Mulder?

Mulder stood there speechless. He hadn't even considered it. Hell, being in the bedroom with Scully, he hadn't considered much of *anything* except for what was the quickest way to separate Scully from her panties. He hadn't even considered... My god... protection! No condoms, no diaphragms, no birth control pills. Like so many other stupid horny teenagers, that had been the last thing on his mind. Not to mention, Mulder had so resigned himself to Scully being barren that the thought of her being fertile was almost impossible to fathom. And yet, it made perfect sense. If she had her hymen back again, why wouldn't everything else be intact?

"Scully..." was all he could say. It was just one word, but it betrayed a happiness and excitement that he had never hoped to entertain before. His spirit buoyed a little bit. Could it be? He had carried with him the guilt of Scully's loss for so long. After all, it was her association with him that made her a target of barbaric alien experiments. Experiments that had put the damned chip in her neck, gave her cancer, and stolen her ova. She had beat the cancer, but had never gotten over the loss of her eggs. Now, here was fate, giving her a second chance. And if he could be the father of Scully's child...

She looked into his eyes, connecting with that boyish enthusiasm. He tried not to look too excited. Mulder wasn't sure just how Scully felt about this. He would hate to be giddy about this if Scully was feeling the opposite. Mistress Ambrosia wasn't around and *he* wasn't psychic, so maybe flat-out asking her was the way to go.

"If it's true, Scully... Well, how do you feel about that?"

She opened her mouth, paused, and then shut it, unsure of how she did feel. She knew she wanted kids. She had always planned to have children, but it had always been something she would do in the future, some nebulous cloud, always on the horizon, but never here. When her ova were taken from her, she realized she had waited too long. Was God punishing her for putting her career over motherhood? The universe cruelly reminded her from time to time of her inability to conceive. Around her pregnant sister-in- law she felt empty, faulty somehow, less of a woman. And Emily... she mourned the loss of her, feeling doubly responsible towards her. Responsible because her stolen ova, was tampered with to create Emily... all because of her connection to the x-files and then later, Emily's subsequent death. She had been helpless to protect her. She had been *her* responsibility and she had failed her. And now, this. If she could conceive again then how could she refuse such a gift?

"I don't know how to feel Mulder. God, how could anyone ever know? It's hard to bring a child into the world under any circumstances, let alone one in our craziness. How can I be so cavalier, so confident, so sure?"

Mulder smiled gently and took his hands into his, their fingers intertwining.

"Hey. You got me."

She looked up at him and could feel the tears welling up in her eyes.

"Goddammnit Mulder, you're making me cry again," she said laughing and crying at the same time. She embraced him and rested her head on his chest. Even as teens, he towered over her.

"Scully, I *like* the idea of being young again. But I like the idea of *us* even more. I want to be there with you. If you want to find Hal and this root, I'll do it. If you want to stay at this age and try to have kids, I'll do that too. Whatever you choose, you are not going to be alone on this."

Scully broke away from him, deep in thought, weighing the pluses and minuses. A new life. Children. Mulder. It was all available to her. They would have to give up the x-files, of course. Even if they could convince the powers that be that they were Mulder and Scully, would they really want the scrutiny? Proving that there was a fountain of youth would make them talk-show celebrities and Jay Leno punchlines. What a horrible thought. No, better to live in anonymity. They could still remain in contact with loved ones. She knew she could convince her family that she was Scully. The Lone Gunmen, definitely. Skinner... probably. Mulder could be pretty convincing when he wanted to. Hell, it would probably be even easier to fight the conspiracy if they no longer existed-- the anonymity their weapon. Were there any minuses? Well, Scully admitted, it would be pretty strange to be a pregnant teenager.

"Mulder, are you sure of what you're saying?"

"Yes! You're not going to get rid of me, Scully!"

"Then I think I know what I want to do. Let's give it two weeks, Mulder. Let's spend two weeks inside that cabin."

Mulder didn't let her continue. "Yes, Scully," he said quickly.

"You didn't let me finish, Mulder. After the two weeks I take a test. If it's positive we stay young. If it's negative we find the root."

"You always have the most brilliant ideas, Scully."

"Shut up. You just want to fuck for two weeks."

"I can't believe you just said 'fuck'. I'm stiffing right now."

"Oh you are not!"she said disbelieving. "Just cause I said fuck?"

"Feel it," he said, offering her proof by sticking his hips out.

Curiosity getting the better of her, she reached out and touched his bulge, if only for a second, and then brought her hand quickly back as if she was petting a rabid weasel.

"Oh my! I stand corrected, Mulder. It doesn't take much for you does it?"

"Not when you're the one doing it, anyways," he answered slyly.

He bent down slightly to kiss her. She tilted her head, her eyes closing as his lips met hers. Gently, he broke the kiss. They turned to see Dom standing beside them looking quite moved. He looked like he was about to cry as he put his arms around Mulder and Scully. He began to lead them back to the store.

"That's so sweet," Dom said. "Young people in love. It touches my heart."

"Um... curious...How long were you there?" Mulder asked.

Instead of answering Dom swatted the air and made a pfft sound with his lips.

"Listen, I think I can help you find Hal. There were a few places that we used to hang out as kids and if I know him, he's probably hiding out in one of 'em."

"That's very kind of you...Mr..."

"Call me Dom."

"Dom. We'd still like to talk to him," Scully said. "But if and when you find him, please let him know that we're not mad at him anymore. He shouldn't be afraid."

"I can do that."

"And we'd like to extend our stay... for two weeks," Mulder added.


Mulder stood, shirtless, behind Scully and with one hand brushed her hair aside to expose her neck. Once done, he lowered his mouth to the exposed skin and kissed it. He put his arms around her waist and his kisses became slightly harder as his tongue sought her out, licking and sucking up and down her neck. Scully breathed in and out with each kiss, her breaths punctuated with the slightest of gasps.

His desire was the same as before. Making love to her the last few days had not dampened his intensity in the least. Knowing her body, knowing her responses... it only served to excite him. He knew he would always feel this way, that her mystique, her mystery would never fade. He wanted her now, like he did yesterday, like he did when he first met her, and like he always would.

As Mulder gave her earlobes a nibble, he unbuttoned her blouse with one hand, his fingers nimblely finding those damned buttons, grasping them and forcing then out of their holes. Finger, thumb, push. Finger, thumb, push. It took a persistency and focus that might've made other men fumble in their efforts. Mulder was too good. The rewards were too good. As the last button acquiesced to Mulder's persuasive fingers, Scully let out a soft laugh.

"Mulder, you're getting pretty good at that. Especially after three beers. I'm impressed."

"You know what they say... Practice makes perfect," he purred into her ear.

Scully turned around quickly, throwing her arms around his neck, pulling him down to kiss her. She pressed her mouth against his, her tongue eagerly searching him out, and finding him just as eager to kiss her back. His cock hardened, surprised by the forcefulness of Scully's kiss and the exquisite sensation of feeling his bare chest against hers. Her breasts, naked and free, were pushing into his chest. It was too much. He had to kiss them.

Breaking free from their embrace, he guided her into a sitting position on the bed. Mulder knelt before her, taking a breast into his mouth, kissing and sucking it. His lips formed a perfect circle around her nipple and he gently licked around it in a spiral. His other hand massaged her other breast, at first cupping it, then Mulder's fingers carefully squeezed the nipple. It became erect and Mulder tugged the aroused nipple. Scully let out a tiny moan of approval.

"Oh Mulder, this is nice, but I can't hold myself up much longer." She was leaning back on the bed, her arms supporting her weight. It was pleasant enough, but her arms were giving out on her. She scanned the room, looking for something.

"Over there," she commanded pointing.

"The dresser?" Mulder said, a little afraid.

"Do it now!" she said trying to sound tough, but a smile broke through. "Go!" She reached over and slapped Mulder on the ass.

"Clear it off for me," she ordered.

He shoved everything that was on the dresser onto the floor. Makeup, loose change, an empty beer bottle-- they all went flying. Mulder's cellphone hit the floor, but he didn't feel the least bit interested in it. As days went by it had became less and less important to him.

Scully stood up, looking straight at Mulder. Her fingers went to her shorts button. She undid it, slowly, with purpose. Then the zipper. Mulder's lips unconsciously parted. His mouth went dry. He was so fun to tease. Scully pulled them off leaving only her silk panties. She arched her leg forward as she pulled off the satiny piece of cloth. It was fun to be his little pin up doll. She flung it behind her and moved over to the dresser and sat on the edge, looking very serious.


He obeyed, getting on his knees in front of her. She gave a nod indicating to him that he now had permission to continue. He grabbed her waist for support and began to kiss up and down her thighs. His tongue was playful,flicking in and out, caressing her soft, milky skin. It felt mysterious and familiar at the same time, Mulder thought.

He blazed a hot wet trail of kisses upwards towards her glistening treasure. He kissed around it, his tongue circling, saving the best part for last.

Scully's hands lay easy on Mulder's head. And while she did it for her own pleasure, Mulder loved it as much as she did. It was a simple thing, something that you don't think of. But it felt intimate somehow, and it was very sensual to feel her fingers in his hair.

Mulder could wait no longer. He had wanted to tease her-- to get her back for the striptease, make her beg for it, but *he* was too excited. He let his tongue slip to where it wanted to, into the dark moist folds of her sex.

Scully let out a gasp and tugged on Mulder's hair. It hurt him slightly, but he was getting used it and to be honest, it was a bit thrilling knowing that he was making Scully lose control like that. His cock was learning to swell in response to the pain, knowing pleasure was just around the corner.

He withdrew his tongue and proceeded to lightly kiss the exquisite pink-red folds. They seemed to throb underneath his lips. Mulder's tongue raised up and found her clit. He flicked at it, feather-soft and Scully moaned.

"Ahh! Uhhhhoooooohh! Oh god, Mulder!"

He circled the aroused clit with a delicate flick of his tongue. He swirled in one direction increasing in speed, then stopping and reversing the direction of his swirling. He felt the pain as Scully's grip on his hair grew stronger. He must be doing it right, he thought.

Scully controlled the speed and intensity of his bobbing, forcing his head down on her. As his tongue massaged her clit, he brought one hand down and his forefinger found her lips and slid deeply and slowly into her wet passage. Mulder felt the wet warmth of her walls around his finger and he felt like he was going to come right there in his jeans.

Scully arched her head back, sucking in a quick burst of air. She kept her lips parted and her eyes closed. She let go of his hair for a second, then renewed her grip, even tighter than before. The pain was about the only thing keeping Mulder from coming.

He fucked her with his finger, the rhythm getting faster and faster. His tongue kept up the pace, giving equal attention to her pulsating clit. He knew the orgasm was building.

"Uhhh..uhhh..uhhh..Mulder! Oh! Mulder! I'm going to... going to...Stop Mulder! Stop! I want you in me!"

Mulder was lost in a haze of lust, but he heard the word 'stop' and forced himself to break away.

"Fuck me Mulder. Now."

He licked his lips and stood up. Fucking her on the dresser. This would be interesting. He still had to lean into her a bit to kiss her, but his crotch was perfectly in line with her sex.

He started to undo his jeans. Scully decided he wasn't quick enough, pushed his hands away and unbuttoned them herself. He took them off, leaving only his underwear with a bulge aching to get out. He slid them off quickly, breaking all sorts of speed records. Scully pulled his head down to hers and kissed him long and deep, savoring her own juices.

"You taste good, Mulder."

"I know," he said with a devious grin.

They kissed again. Mulder grabbed her by the waist, pulling her as close as possible without her falling off the dresser. The tip of his penis pushed aimlessly down below, desperately looking for Scully's opening. She grasped it tightly with one hand and guided him towards her slit.

"It's right here Mulder," she said with a smile.

"You know me Scully," he breathed, his dick just barely into her. "I never... I never ask directions."

He pushed his length into her as deep as he could. Mulder grunted and had to reach out with one hand to brace himself on the wall.

Scully let out a whimper that grew into a moan.

Mulder pulled out as far as he could without actually leaving, then he pushed it back in. The pleasure was exquisite and he trembled, his body on the verge of orgasm. He quickened the pace of his thrusts, giving himself over to the rhythm of their lovemaking.

Scully showed her appreciation, giving his hair a break and running her nails down his back instead. She felt herself losing control of her body as the pleasure increased steadily.

"Oh! Oh! Oh god Mulder! Don't stop!"

His lips found the soft flesh of her neck and he sucked and licked wherever he could reach. As his pumping increased he bit her, oh-so-lightly and Scully let out a tiny scream of delight.

Mulder grunted animalistically with each thrust of his cock. "Uh. Uh. Uh. Uh! Uhhh! Ohh Sculleee!"

Her nails dug into his ass, but Mulder was beyond the pain. The pleasure was too intense and it washed over the pain like a tidal wave obliterating a sand castle. He was throbbing now inside of her pushing as hard and fast as he could, unable to stop, lost in the overpowering sensations.

Scully began to groan, her voice slow but steadily rising in ecstasy.

"oohhhh...oohhhhhhh...ohhhhhh! God! Mulderrrrrrrrrr!" She could hold out no longer. Her orgasm crashed through her body and she shivered with pleasure. She clenched around Mulder's dick, squeezing as hard as she could with her inner muscles.

Mulder's face contorted as if he was in pain, his mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure. He surrendered control of his body and let out a yell.

"Ahhhh! Ahhhhh! ohhhhh Sculleeee! God I'm comminnngg!"

The room spun around him in slow motion as the orgasm overtook him. He rode her, pumping every last bit of his seed in as deep as he could.

"Oh. Oh. Mulder. My god. That was intense," Scully breathed, barely audible.

He kissed her, his lips tingling.

"I love you," he said, his forehead touching hers, his eyes still closed. "You know that, don't you?"

She brought her hands up to his face. "With every part of me," she answered back. "As much as I love you."

He leaned in to kiss her and his receding dick slipped out of her. They both gasped at the intensity of him leaving her and smiled.

"Ah! Mulder...whew," she said, catching her breath. "You... you think that was the *one*? Do you think we made a baby?"

Mulder gave her a playful look.

"I don't know. Shouldn't we have been facing north? I'm thinking we might have to do this again."

Scully smiled back and wagged her finger at him.

"Don't rub the lamp if you don't want the genie to come out, Mulder."

He laughed and scooped her little frame up, one hand under her torso, the other under her legs, as if he was going to carry her over the threshold.

"Ah! Mulder! What are you doing?"

He set her down on the bed.

"What do you think, Scully? I'm rubbing the lamp."

She let out a throaty laugh as he leaped at her.



Mulder wrinkled up his face in disgust and put the beer bottle down. He was sunning himself in a lawn chair beside the pool. Scully lay next to him in her lounge chair, soaking up the Florida sun. She wore shades, which turned Mulder on to no end.

"Ugh. This beer isn't getting any better Scully."

"Mmmm. What do you expect from a beer called Goat Scrotum Ale, Mulder?"

"Yeah, well count yourself lucky you're abstaining from alcohol. It tastes like goat piss. When's Dom bringing those pregnancy tests by anyway?"

"Sometime after lunch. He special ordered them and everything."

She took a swig of iced tea. It tasted good, the sprig of mint bringing out the flavor in the tea.

The gated pool entrance swung open and Mistress Ambrosia strolled in with Hal in tow. She had a strong grip on his arm and she pulled him quite forcefully towards them.

"C'mon, you little shit," she said.

"Ow, Amber!" Hal's face contorted in pain.

"Shut up already!"

"Good morning you two," Mistress Ambrosia said with a smile. "Look who I found hiding out with the gators."

Hal smiled sheepishly. "Hi. I'm really, really sorry," he said.

Mistress Ambrosia elbowed him. "What else?"

"And I want you to have this." Hal handed them what looked like a tuber. "It's the root. It'll help you... I don't know... get all old again."

"Well, not quite like that, but good enough I say," Mistress Ambrosia said.

Scully took it in her hand and stared at it. She didn't know what to say.

"Thank you," she finally managed.

"Did he call you Amber?" Mulder asked.

Mistress Ambrosia sighed. She paused.

"All right," she said in a perfect southern accent. "My real name's Amber and I'm not Jamaican. Happy, pal?"

Mulder held up his hands in defense. Hal was grinning like a doofus.

"I didn't mean anything---"

"I'm really am psychic you know," she shot back.

"I believe you--"

"And congratulations, by the way," she interrupted. "I gotta go to work. Damn. Now I'm depressed." She walked off, pulling Hal in tow.

"Hey! What did you mean by that?" Mulder yelled.

He turned toward Scully.

"What did she mean by that?"

Scully shrugged. Was there a hint of a smile on her face? "You got me, mon," she said in a nice approximation of a Jamaican accent.

As soon as Hal and Amber left, Dom walked in carrying two paper sacks worth of groceries. He struggled trying to open the pool gate and looked as if he was going to drop everything on the ground. Mulder got up to help him just as Dom finally got it open.

"Dom!" he said excitedly. Scully sat up too, taking off her sunglasses. She felt a nervousness in her stomach, knowing that the tests were in those sacks.

"Hey Fox. Dana. See you met up with that no-good brother of mine."

"Yeah. He gave us this," Mulder said holding up the root. "I'm not so sure we'll be using it though. Did you get them?"

Dom nodded, just as excited as they were. He sat down the sacks on a small glass table next to them.

"Yup. Just got 'em in this morning. I didn't know what to get so I got a bunch of different kinds. Ordered 'em off of that yahoo.com and had 'em overnight ship. Got ya some food too."

He reached into the bag and pulled out a big bag of pancake mix and a bag of Nestlé's chocolate chips.

"Oh yeah," Mulder said. "Now that's what I'm talkin' about!"

"MMmmmm! God that sounds so good!" Scully said appreciatively.

Dom cackled, happy to be of help.

"I gotta go. Judge Judy is on in an hour. Now you'll let me know, won't ya?"

"Yes, Dom, definitely," Scully said. "If anything happens I'll call my mother first, but after that it'll be you. I can't thank you enough for all of your help."

"Think nuthin' of it. I'm never had customers as interesting as you two before. Hell, I barely have any customers at all!"

Hal snorted, started to leave, then stopped.

"Oh, I almost forgot. There's more of that beer in there that you like, Fox."

Mulder tried to look pleased. "Ohhh! Thanks!" Scully grinned at him.

Dom waved and left. Mulder reached into the bag and pulled out a handful of pregnancy tests. There were multi-packs of First Response, e.p.t., and Clearblue Easy.

"Dom doesn't fuck around, does he?"

"Guess not," Scully answered, examining them all. Mulder laid them all out on the table and felt anxious.

"When can we do this, Scully?" he asked for the third or fourth time this week.

"First thing in the morning, Mulder," she said laying her hand on his. "I know. I can't wait either."

He smiled, but looked agitated. "Man, why am I so nervous? I faced down serial killers and liver-eating mutants. Now I look at these little sticks and I'm terrified."

"Well, Mulder, I understand. Becoming a parent is a big step. It's frightening, actually."

"It's not that Scully. I'm terrified that it's going to be negative. I want this so bad, Scully."

"I know Mulder," she said squeezing his hand. "You know I want it too. God, think of it. Can you picture me? Pregnant at 16?"

"It is a weird thought... but you're not an ordinary sixteen year old, you know. We're probably the most financially, emotionally and academically stable teenagers on the planet. We have degrees. I got money from my inheritance. Not to mention two houses to choose from. You have your mom for support. We ain't doin' too bad."

"And each other, Mulder. We have each other," she said, her eyes locking onto his.

"Damn right," he said. "Let's get out of this sun,"Mulder stood and pulled her up. She wobbled for a second, then grabbed him by the arm for support.

"Geez, Mulder, my legs are still weak. Maybe we should, you know, take a break." Her eyes darted up to his.

"I'm not wearing you out am I?" he said with a glint in his eye. She shot him a look. "Ok, ok. I guess you can take a break. For now."

"Oh, you give *me* permission now?," she said playfully. "Don't make me push you in the water again, pool-boy."

"Name calling, Scully?" Mulder crossed his arms like a stern teacher. "Really. Now that is so immature. I only have one thing to say to that." Mulder paused dramatically. "I'm rubber, you're glue, Whatever you say bounces off me and sticks to you!"

Scully, giggling, grabbed her weapon of choice, the Styrofoam pink pool noodle and chased him.

"I'm going to beat you senseless, Mulder!"

"I thought you said you needed a break!" he answered laughing and took off.


Mulder sat up in bed with a start. My god. Morning. He stayed up almost the whole night, a nervous wreck, unable to sleep. Finally around 4:30 he had dozed off. He checked the clock. 5:46. The space next to him was empty. He brushed his hand feeling the indentation of where Scully had been laying. Mulder saw the light seeping out from the bottom crack of the bathroom door. Damn. I guess this is it.

The sun was rising too. A new day. A new life? He hoped. And then he did something reserved only for the devout or the scared shitless. He prayed.

God, he thought. Sometimes I question your existence. But if you're out there, please, give me... give us... this one thing. There has to be a reason, right? A reason we're in the situation that we're in. Please let that reason be a baby. Please. Give us this.

The bathroom door swung open and Scully stepped out, dressed in a nightshirt. She came to him, holding out the test. He felt sick to his stomach.

"Mulder?" she asked, trembling. "You awake?"

"Yes," he said, his voice dry and cracking.

She stepped into the light and he could see that tears were streaming down her face. She was smiling, the fullest smile that Mulder had ever seen on her. She gave him the stick.

"Two blue lines, Mulder! Two blue lines!"

Mulder got up, getting more excited. Did this mean?

"It's positive Mulder. I've tried three of them now. All the same. I'm pregnant!"

He let out a laugh and embraced her. His vision blurred. Mulder felt the tears roll down his cheeks. He wiped them away easily, but he couldn't get the dopey grin off his face to save his life. They held each other and felt the last seven years melt away. All the stupid mistakes, all the missed opportunities, all the things that they had wanted to say and didn't-- all these things were erased and redeemed by a love given a second chance.

Mulder glanced upward.

"Thank you," he mouthed silently.

The ever-lovin' End.

Oh man. That sure didn't turn out like I expected when I sat down to write it! I know I didn't leave CC's toys exactly how I found them, but I couldn't help giving them a happy ending.

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