In the Closet by Gwendolyn and Dasha K. Summary: What? You mean we need to have a plot? Oh, crud. A closet, some smut, a surly man and a morning meeting. Kind of a sequel to Gwen's "Crawl Space." Rating: NC-17 for the old bump and grind. Minors not welcome to play in our universe. Classification: SRH Keywords: Mulder/Scully romance, Skinner/other UST, oh and don't forget improbable and PWP, too Archiving: Gossamer, yes, anyone else, just give us a shout. Spoilers: Nuttin', honey Email: Feedback to both of us, please- gwendyn@aol.com and dashak@aol.com Disclaimer: Well golly, Chris, if you'd just let them have sex lives, we wouldn't have to do this to your characters. Note: This story takes place a little while after Gwen's "Crawl Space," but you don't have to have read it to understand this. In The Closet Someday, we're going to make love on a bed covered in crisp, clean sheets with the smooth, sultry voice of Barry White serenading us in the background. Not that Skinner doesn't have a pleasing voice, but it's not one I would have wished for in that particular circumstance. "I know you all have full plates right now, so do I. I'll try to make this meeting as short as possible. We have some administrative issues that need to be addressed." "Sir, I have the spreadsheets here to pass out, if you don't mind? They detail the expenditures of our field agents over the past business quarter." "Please proceed, Mr. Robinson." I felt Mulder tense at the words "detail" and "expenditures." Wonderful. We were trapped in the crowded office closet of the Assistant Director - a man who has as often as not held our fate in his hands, and all Mulder could think to worry about was a potential accounting of his extravagant expenditures. That left only me to worry about the fact that the door couldn't be locked from the inside. Only me to worry that we might very well be caught red handed. No, I couldn't concern myself with such mundane issues as detailed expenditures or the warm pressure of Mulder as he pressed himself against my back. It was suffocating, not in an entirely displeasing way, but suffocating nonetheless. I wouldn't think about that, wouldn't think about the scent of him mingling with the scent of mothballs in the A.D.'s closet. He smelled like vanilla and something else, something more rich and exotic. But I wouldn't think about that. Wouldn't even consider swapping positions with him, to be at his back, so I could lick his nape and taste the source of that smell. No. Not me. Jesus, Mary and Joseph, how did we get ourselves in such a dangerous situation? Naturally, it was all his fault. Another anonymous tip from another anonymous source. "AD Skinner is in possession of a disk with the codes necessary to infiltrate Ft. Marlene's top secret records. These records detail medical tests conducted on abducted U.S. Citizens for the past forty years." So, we decided to search his office, all the while telling ourselves that it was impossible. Skinner was on our side, one of the good guys. Of course, I've always had my doubts, but they were the farthest thing from my mind when Mulder reached his arm around my waist, pulling me even closer. Mulder is not often a subtle man and, quite frankly, neither was the erection he pressed against my back. I couldn't see it, but I knew he was wearing that self- satisfied I'm-about-to-get-some smirk. As much as I would have liked to wipe that smirk off his face, I knew he was right: he was about to get some. The bastard. As the meeting droned on and on behind us, I heard a phone ring. It seemed to come through the back wall of the closet. "Office of Assistant Director Skinner, this is Kimberly speaking. I'm sorry, the A.D. is in a meeting right now, may I take a message or would you like his voice mail?" I realized for the first time that we were trapped in the closet that straddled Skinner's office and his reception area. We were flanked on both sides - smothered in suit jackets and trench coats, surrounded by spare ties and . . .oh, my. Was that a box of condoms on the shelf? In my surprise I twisted my ankle and fell forward a bit, Mulder close behind, bumping my head on the back wall of the closet. We both stilled immediately, fearing that we had been heard. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Someday, I'm going to finish my Masters in Fine Arts and get out of bureaucratic hell, I thought as I moodily sipped my Starbucks skim venti mocha, no whip. It was absurdly early in the morning and A.D. Skinner had asked me to come in so I could greet the other A.D.s and serve coffee at this sunrise powwow. It wasn't that I didn't enjoy working for Skinner. He's rather a treat for the eyes, no, make that a Thanksgiving feast, the way he's always taking off his jacket to reveal that big, muscular back straining against the fabric of his shirts. It was just that being a secretary wasn't my idea of exciting, you know? God, his agents would come in, bandaged and bruised, with these hair-raising tales of how they barely escaped with their skins intact, and I'd think about how the most thrilling thing I'd done all day was to codify expense reports. Ah yes, the stuff of legends . . . The meeting was going on forever, so I took the opportunity to open my new issue of "Vogue" and see what the Milan shows were decreeing we should wear in the fall. Paisley gauchos? They had to be smoking crack again. That's when I heard it, a rumble-tumble-crash noise through the wall, which I knew held the A.D's closet on the other side. My finger leapt for the phone, where Security was on the speed-dial, when I heard a hissing whisper from the other side of the wall. "Mulder," said the female voice, "We're going to get caught if you're not more careful." I stifled a smile. I should have known that if someone were going to break into Skinner's closet, it would have to be Agents Mulder and Scully. Why those two hadn't been canned years ago was beyond my powers of comprehension. But I was awfully glad that they hadn't, since I gleaned important fashion tips from Scully, and Mulder, while not possessing the earth-shattering bod of my boss, was a New Year's Eve fondue for the eyes. Then I heard a noise that perked me up better than the mocha. It was a low, guttural moan and to tell the truth, I wasn't sure if it came from him or her. Wow, the Bureau really cheaped out on building the partitions between walls, because I then distinctly heard her voice again, rough and low. "Inside me, now," she ordered. I sat back in my chair and pulled out my nail file. This wasn't going to be such a dull morning after all. Yep, I knew I was right about those two . . . ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Nothing. No movement, not a sound came from Kimberly after she hung up the phone. The meeting of the Finance and Accounting Consortium continued undeterred from the other side. Mulder's erection was still saluting me. I decided we were safe to proceed as long as we were very, very quiet. Yes, it was a rationalization. Maybe I wasn't exercising the best possible judgment but I had a head injury, damn it. I had a head injury (and a twisted ankle) and Mulder had an erection and the combination is as combustible as a spark in pure oxygen. I mumbled something to Mulder about being more careful. He licked my neck in response. Right behind my left ear and south of my hairline. He's got a tongue like an eager puppy and I mean that in a good way. There's just something about the way he touches me, the way he inhales my scent and presses into me. He's frantic for me and nothing on this earth has ever flattered me more. Nothing has ever given me such control or reduced me to such a quivering mass of reckless need. His lips, his tongue, the rough scratch of his stubble against my neck, and, oh, the things he was about to do to me; there was nothing more and nothing less than that. The phones were ringing again in the room on the other side of the wall, but Kimberly must have been taking a break because no one was answering, and the low masculine rumble of accountants doing accountant things droned on from beyond the door. The sounds drained and ran together until they were nothing more to me than subtle background noise, like a nature tape of waves on rocks to help you sleep. I readjusted my position so that I was leaning forward against the back wall of the closet with my forearms crossed and braced to hold us both. Mulder's right hand was propped up against the wall, his long fingers stretched to stroke my elbow. Then he pressed his lips to my earlobe and worked his left hand up my skirt by way of my thigh. Good Lord. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I could feel my own pulse pushing my skin - through my neck, in my chest, my face. Lower. I started wearing skirts again after the affair started. It's practical. Fortunately, I was also wearing thigh highs and a garter belt. Also practical. I spread my legs for him as he lifted my skirt and pushed my panties down my thighs to my knees. It's not the most graceful way to fuck the man you love, but it will do in a pinch. Institutional air- conditioning touched my ass only briefly as he unzipped his fly and lowered his pants. Then he was pressed against me again, skin on skin. I think I hissed. He wrapped his arm around my waist briefly to adjust my position in a way that pleased him. There was no need for more preparation, I was already so wet for him but he moved to caress my clit as I turned back to find his mouth for a fevered kiss. Finally, the head of his cock was inside of me, but only barely. He held back, teasing with his mouth and hands. Skinner's voice penetrated our world only briefly when I heard him say, "I agree - Agent Mulder is too extravagant with government resources." I stifled a laugh but Mulder's behavior was anything but funny. He continued his holding pattern, moving only to rotate my hips with his hand in a motion designed to drive me insane. It worked. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. "Inside me, now," I ordered. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ My nail file fell on the floor, entirely forgotten, as I was the unwitting witness to Mulder and Scully's impromptu party in my boss' closet. Was this how they got their thrills? I undid my silk blouse one button, as the room suddenly seemed awfully warm, and wondered where else they had done the deed. Hmmm, the copy room? The autopsy bay? They must have gotten sick of that musty office of theirs, having been down there in the basement for years. Damn, I could hardly wait for lunch. Connie and Denise from VCS were just going to *die* when I told them my story. The phone rang every once in a while, interrupting the floor show, so finally I hit the mute button on the phone, thanking the good Lord above for voice mail. A rhythmic thudding went on and on against the wall and I remembered seeing Agent Mulder once at the pool. Clearly, he'd built up his stamina from all those laps. And then I remembered the sight of him in those tiny red Speedos and I had to unbutton my shirt some more. It was scorching up here in the executive suite. I leaned back in my chair and shut my eyes as I heard a muffled feminine moan through the wall and a masculine voice answer with equal ardor. I let my mind wander, just a little bit. "Sir, can you come in here, please?" I said from the closet. "What is it, Kimberly?" he growled from behind his desk. "I have to . . . show you something." The closet door opened wider and the space filled with his bulk. His mouth opened as he realized the thing I had to show him was me, wearing a black satin bra and panties, seamed thigh-high stockings and my three inch sling-back heels with the crisscross straps. "Kimberly," he moaned, and I watched his gray trousers strain at his growing erection. "You are such a good boss," I whispered, as I unhooked the bra. "All those raises and the extra vacation time, and you never notice when I take a long lunch to go shopping. Come here and let me properly thank you." He even let me strip the crisp shirt off his muscular torso. It had started off as one crappy day, but things were looking up, yes, they were. End of (1/2) Subject: In the Closet by Gwendolyn and Dasha K. (2/2) In the Closet by Gwendolyn and Dasha K. Disclaimers and all that in part one. Mulder was not cooperating and I was being too damn loud. I was half beyond caring and half scared to death that we would be caught. Of course, that's the source of the thrill and I'm your friendly neighborhood thrill-seeker, yes I am, though I admit you probably wouldn't guess it to look at me. Then again, you probably wouldn't call me the girl most likely to end up in the closet of the Assistant Director about to take it from behind by her partner. I pushed back from the wall to prop myself up with one arm while I blindly reached into the dark recesses of the closet with my free hand, looking for something to cling to. My hand came back with the sleeve of one of Skinner's crisp white business shirts. Mulder was amused enough to chuckle lowly, but not compassionate enough to finish what he started. Instead, he leaned back from me, only slightly, and straightened, moving both his hands to wrap his strong, long fingers around my hips. Then the bastard slapped my ass. Softly, of course. I mean we were in a semi-public place. Where we could be caught at any moment. I almost came. I did the first thing that occurred to me to stifle my cry and stuffed the sleeve of Skinner's shirt in my mouth. I looked over my shoulder again at Mulder to give him that look I give, which made me feel better, even if it was too dark for him to fully appreciate it. Then, I bent forward for balance and pushed my ass back as far as I could. He continued to tease me with the small, almost imperceptible movement of his hips, still only centimeters inside me. I heard Skinner's voice from behind us, reaming some poor paper pusher for his close-mindedness. No way they could hear us and the phones weren't even ringing anymore so I comforted myself with the thought that Kimberly was on a break and we were all alone, Mulder and I, in the cavernous closet. Of course, the closet isn't really all that big but I was decompressing fast and desperate and in the blood rush, I started hallucinating a bit. I smelled Skinner all around me, saw the box of condoms again on the shelf, allowed my mind to wander - why did he have condoms in his closet and for whom? Kimberly sprang instantly to mind as Mulder practically doubled himself over to nip at my shoulders. I'm sure I thought of Kimberly because hers was the last feminine voice I had heard. Skinner's shirt in my mouth and the smell of him everywhere and Kimberly is an attractive woman, a very attractive woman. And wouldn't they look good together? No, I didn't think they were lovers, but wouldn't it be something for her to be trapped in this very same small space with that big, hulking man reaching for her and plunging into her as - Oh, Lord - Mulder finally plunged into me. And thus it was that as he entered me, finally seeking his own release and mine, I imagined Skinner thrusting into Kimberly and somehow I was Kimberly and she was me and Mulder was somehow there too. I gargled through the shirtsleeve, would have screamed without it. Through my haze I heard Skinner, the real one, not the fantasy, open the door between his office and Kimberly's. "Kimberly, could you please bring me the Field Projections for the next fiscal year?" She sounded a bit dazed herself when she responded, "Yes, sir. Certainly. Just one second while I pull them up and get you a print-out." I guess she hadn't been out of the office after all. Good Lord, they sounded so close. Then, I forgot to worry about them. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Through blue swirl of arousal in front of my eyes and filling my ears, I heard the raspy voice of my boss, the one who in my head was currently plunging his impossibly thick cock into me in the closet. The Universal Translator in my brain finally let me understand his words. "Kimberly, could you please bring me the Field Projections for the next fiscal year?" I blinked several times and pretended I had been deeply engrossed in a spreadsheet. "Yes, sir. Certainly. Just one second while I pull them up and get you a print-out." He nodded at me in thanks and I tried really hard not to look at the cut of his dress pants. "Are you feeling all right, Kimberly? You look rather flushed." Luckily, I'm a professional. Ask anyone and they'll tell you that the reason why I'm assigned to the A.D. who's the hardest to please is because I'm damn good at what I do. I snapped back into focus. "I'm just fine, sir. I think I might have Environmental Services come take a look at the air conditioning in the outer office." And while they were at it, I could have them check out the temperature in the closet. It had to be smoking in there. I stood on slightly shaking legs and headed for the printer as my boss made a sympathetic noise in the back of his throat and went back into his office. When the printer started spitting out paper, I could no longer hear the show in the closet. Oh well. It was probably best, since the noises had been driving me insane with desire. About five minutes later, Skinner and the other A.D.s filed out. "The meeting is over, Kimberly. I'm just going to run downstairs for a muffin and I'll be back up in ten minutes if anyone calls." They left and the office suddenly was silent as a graveyard. But I wasn't alone. I realized Mulder and Scully would have to leave the closet one of these days. If I were a merciful person I would have coughed and mumbled something about leaving myself, since if I could hear them they most certainly could hear me. However, I'm not particularly nice. I wanted to see their faces when they walked out of A.D. Skinner's office. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Mulder pulled me close to him and thrust his cock into me as far as he could. He turned my head to his, discarding Skinner's shirt, and stifled both our cries with one of those kisses that's almost as good as the sex itself and Kimberly and Skinner were suddenly out of the picture. They went the way of the thrill-seeker who likes to do it naughty places and it was only Mulder and me, with no one capable of walking through walls or doors to find us there. No fantasy could compare as he rocked into me and established a rhythm that I was only too happy to meet. I was halfway there before he entered me and it wasn't long before I climaxed, throwing my hand behind me to clasp his ass and pull him even closer, biting his lip as our kiss became more and more sloppy and off-target. He was shaking in that way he does when he's about to come, his whole body vibrating and humming, then finally, right as my own climax was reaching its end, he found his own release, purring like a catnip drugged feline. He pulled back from the kiss to bury his face in my hair, holding me close with both arms curled around my stomach under my shirt, his fingers brushing against the silk of my bra. "Mmmm.Scully, Scully, Scully." His words were barely a whisper, more of an exhalation, but his whole heart was in them and I answered with a moan of my own. I moved my hand up and behind to clasp his head, holding it firmly to mine for just a moment longer before I released him and he released me. I know that he loves me tenderly, that he wants to lay me down on a bed with sheets of silk or cotton or whatever his fantasy projects as my heart's desire. He wants to prove his stamina by making love to me all night, driving me crazy with his hands and his mouth before giving me multiple orgasms, multiple times. He wants the candles and the flowers and the romantic dinner probably even more than I do. At that moment, though, right then and right there, quick and dirty in the A.D.'s closet was plenty good enough for me. It's Mulder; the rest is just gravy. There wasn't much time to cherish the moment before we came to our senses. Mulder pulled back and zipped his fly quickly. I reached down to pull up my panties and lower the skirt, but realized with embarrassed horror that before I went anywhere, I had some cleaning up to do. It's one of the dirty little details of fucking in public that your mother doesn't tell you about: the aftermath is tricky. Under normal conditions, I am one of those women who takes a quick shower after, not because I think sex is bad or dirty, but it is a bit wet and sticky. After some thoughtful consideration, I turned around to face Mulder with a chagrined look on my face. Great sex puts him immediately into uber-profiling mode and he figured out the problem right away. He looked just amused enough at my plight for me to hold it against him later, but he did reach over to Skinner's tie rack and grab the first red and blue thing he encountered. "Allow me," he whispered. So I did. He bent to his knees and pressed the cool silk to me, gently and slowly running the designer tie along warm skin, performing a task never intended by the manufacturer. As good as it felt, I was distracted again by our position and listened for outside noises. It took me a moment to realize there were none. "Mulder, do you hear anything?" I whispered. He spoke in a more normal tone of voice. "No, the meeting broke up about five minutes ago." "What? I didn't notice anything." "You were kind of distracted at the time," he said with that arrogant little tone of his. "And you weren't?" Yes, I was offended and looking back on it, I'm still offended. He discarded the tie on the closet floor, then pulled my panties back up into place and lowered my skirt to its normal position with the precision of an experienced tailor. "Oh, I was distracted, Scully. Believe me. I'm just a little more experienced than you." He's truly insufferable sometimes. We would compare 'experience' later and find out who truly came out on top. In the meantime, we needed to get out of the closet, so I just gave him a look and let it go at that. "Are they all gone?" I asked. "Skinner's office is definitely cleared out, but I'm not sure about Kimberly." We stood for a moment looking at the closet door, weighing our options. There weren't many. No noises came from the reception area. We were bathed in dark silence. After a few moments, we wordlessly made the decision to leave. We opened the door and stepped out into Skinner's office. Mulder moved toward Skinner's desk again. I realized he planned to continue looking for the disk, so I pulled him back with a hand on his arm and a shake of my head. No need to linger again. It was too dangerous to tempt fate twice. He would have argued, but he was still tired and shaky from sex, so we turned to leave. Our decision made, we wasted no time in opening the door and walking into the reception area. I was ahead of Mulder, so I saw her first. Kimberly. Sitting at her desk and staring straight at us with a knowing look on her face. I came to a dead halt, causing Mulder to stumble and bump into my back, pushing me forward with him. Skinner's unflappable assistant just watched us with a secret smile as we toppled toward her desk, where we caught the edge and righted ourselves. Lord, I was mortified. The three of us just stood there, Mulder and I flushed and unkempt, Kimberly perfectly poised and cool. My mind flashed briefly on the image of her and Skinner in the closet. "No need to worry." Mulder finally said as if he'd found the answer to it all, "We checked it out - everything is fine in there." "I feel better just knowing you two are on the job, Agents," she smirked. I only nodded my head and graced her with a raised eyebrow and a purse of my lips for good measure before Mulder grabbed me by the elbow and we hightailed it out of there. Was it worth the risk, the messiness, the discovery, and the mortification to make love to Mulder in the Closet of the Assistant Director? I honestly can't say, but I feel sure we'll get the chance to revisit the issue when we go back to look for the disk again. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ When they walked into the outer office, I immediately started thinking of what I could get out of Mulder and Scully in the way of bribes. Now let me see, Mulder has those great Wizards season tickets and Scully has that gorgeous suede jacket that would fit me quite nicely . . . But I couldn't do that. Deep down, I could still remember the oath I took as a Girl Scout and there wasn't anything in there about garnering bribes from federal agents who fuck in my boss' closet. Like a good Scout, I kept my mouth shut and instead consoled myself in sarcasm. It was so obvious they'd just done the deed I had a hard time keeping from bursting out into laughter. Mulder's fly was half-unzipped and his hair was sticking up in back like some woman had just been grabbing fistfuls of it. The woman in question had lipstick smeared on her swollen lips and a darling little love bruise forming on her fair neck. And they simply reeked of the scent of sex, that unique bouquet of sweat, perfume, semen and god knows what else. Damn, they smelled good. It had been a while for me, since I tossed Josh and his belongings out onto the front lawn after I caught him in bed with my dental hygienist. Cheating was one thing, but my dental hygienist was named Billy. Needless to say, I see a new dentist these days. Mulder and Scully fled the office like it was contaminated with radon and I hoped they were off to find a shower and a nap. I needed more than that, though. I needed some in the worst way possible. For a few minutes I chewed over the idea of hightailing it to the Ladies Room for a little "personal time," but frankly, it wasn't enough. I wanted to be in that closet, trying to keep quiet as I was split open by a long, stiff cock. And I knew which cock I wanted. I drummed my nails on the desk, wondering if I could plead menstrual cramps and take off to find Mike, an ex-boyfriend who is a drummer for a local metal band and is dumb as a box of rocks, but hung like a racehorse. But I heard the door open and before I could look up, I knew my boss was back from his morning coffee. I could smell him, an intoxicating blend of Costa Rican blend and Eau Sauvage. "Kimberly," he said in that voice of his that's rougher than gravel in a driveway. "Yes, sir?" My voice sounded strangely high and squeaky. "Can you please find the Desmond file?" I sat up straighter. "Of course sir," I said. And then a smile spread across my face. That file was in his cabinet of inactive files, which happened to be in the closet. As I stood I realized my legs were shaking. I also realized that I'd chosen a particularly fetching pair of navy lace panties that morning. I was practically strutting by the time I got to the closet. The closet still smelled just like Mulder and Scully, overlaid with the musty whiff of mothballs. As I reached over to the file cabinet, a small box tumbled off the shelf and bopped me in the nose. My stars, did those two have no shame? It was a box of condoms. But then I realized it couldn't possibly have belonged to them, since the box was unopened. Well, Walter Skinner, you little beast. I stuck my head outside the door. "Sir, can you come in here please?" With a broad smile on my face, I realized my dreams were about to come true. The End Gwen would like to thank the wonderful, talented, smut-inspirational and glorious fanfic diva, Dasha for everything and then some. Dasha would like to thank the sexy, sassy Gwen for coming up with this depraved idea in the first place, and for being a damned good friend who didn't forget the margarita mix, unlike *some* people we know who lost the tequila at the airport. We'd both like to thank PD, for beta services and being an all- round encourgement in smutty endeavors. This is for the Keeper of the Ceremonial Hotel Room Blender, otherwise known as She Who Takes Forever to Get Dressed. The Skinner parts are for Kim, naturally. Feedback will make us do dances of glee- gwendyn@aol.com and dashak@aol.com