AN: This little story could be read independently without any problem, but it's also following after my story "Irresistible."

I own nothing from The X-Files.

I hope that you enjoy! Please let me know what you think!

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"Mulder, it's freezing!" Dana Scully declared as soon as she was inside the door of the cabin—an acquaintance's lake house that he was letting them borrow for their long weekend.

The declaration was less of a critique and more of an observation. Mulder shivered, too, as he stepped inside the cabin behind her. She scrambled for a light switch and, within moments, the cabin was illuminated by the slightly dingy overhead lighting. It wasn't Buckingham Palace, but it would definitely be good enough for what they both needed.

"That's not a problem, Scully," Mulder offered. "There's a fireplace. I'll start a fire."

"What about the rest of the house?" Scully asked.

She'd insisted on carrying the groceries in—enough food to keep them well-fed for their entire long weekend—and she took them to the counter in the kitchen.

It was a small lake house with an open design. There was a living area, complete with kitchen, and one room, off to the side, which was the bedroom with a connected bathroom.

"What are you worried about, Scully?" Mulder teased. "That I won't keep you warm enough in the bedroom? I've never heard any complaints before."

"Well, we've got heating in both our apartments," Scully offered.

The teasing only made Mulder laugh to himself. He dropped their bags in the bedroom and came back into the main part of the house. The fireplace was clean, and there was already a stack of wood waiting on him. Mulder made pretty quick work of arranging the wood and, using the kindling that was already there for him, getting a fire started. By the time he'd finished starting the fire, Scully had put away most of the groceries in the small kitchen area.

"Who was it that you said is letting us stay here?" Scully asked.

"A friend I've known since college," Mulder said. "I told him we could use somewhere to just, you know, escape for a few days."

It hadn't been very long since Scully had come very close to dying in a coma after she'd been abducted by a madman and gone missing. Nearly losing her had been a catalyst for Mulder to admit his feelings to her, and to fully accept them himself. She'd echoed his sentiments and their relationship had started from there—slowly at first. Mulder had taken care of Scully as she'd regained her physical strength and found herself ready to come back to work. During the time since they'd confessed their feelings for one another, they had enjoyed everything from middle-schoolesque flirtation to flirting with a few of each other's most timidly confessed desires.

Mulder would like to say there was a firmly drawn line between their newly-found, and carefully-tended, romantic partnership, and their dedicated work partnership, but the truth of the matter was that the line tended to blur a great deal. They'd already informed the FBI that they were involved—fraternization, of course, though not prohibited, was frowned upon—but they had yet to come clean with all the ramifications of their involvement.

They had only just discovered some of those ramifications for themselves, and they were still working on coming fully to terms with everything. It appeared that, quite by accident, they were on route to becoming parents before many people would consider that their relationship had even had enough time to truly prove itself.

Mulder didn't need any kind of proof, though, for what he felt. He believed Scully, too, when she said that she felt the same. Everything was new and, perhaps, moving at breakneck speeds for them, but they were both comfortable and confident in what they'd found. On the one hand, every smile he brought to Scully's lips felt new. Every kiss felt like the first one. Every time he touched her, there was the same thrill as the first time they'd been together in her apartment. On the other hand, Mulder found a certain comfort in Scully's presence that made him feel like they'd been together since the dawn of time, and like they were the kind of couple about which people wrote romantic stories that taught the meaning of true love and how to achieve a long-lasting relationship.

Still, the demanding, exhausting, and sometimes emotionally straining nature of the work that they did day-in and day-out—often working through weekends and holidays—coupled with the stresses and strains of life, the new demands of a relationship, and the realization that they were embarking on something else, entirely, that neither of them had planned to do just yet, meant that there were times when Scully and Mulder both required a break.

That was where the lake house came in, and the demands they'd made at work for a three-day weekend for which the time could be pulled from all the other weekends they'd missed while working cases that didn't respect the constructed idea of a forty-hour week.

Just the day before, they'd put a man in jail who had been dismembering women's bodies to gather their hair and fingernails as trophies. The case had been mentally and emotionally exhausting, and any normal person would need a break to breathe and gather their thoughts after dealing with such a case. Things had been made much worse, though, when the killer had kidnapped Scully. She'd been physically unharmed, except for a few scrapes, bruises, and some sore muscles, but Mulder could tell that she simply needed a break. They'd wrapped things up with the case that morning, requested their leave, and driven straight through the afternoon and early evening. Scully said she needed time to talk to him about everything that had been weighing heavily on her mind, but she needed to gather her thoughts. Here, she could gather and talk to her heart's content. She could relax and breathe in some fresh mountain air.

And they could both leave the phones off their hooks.

Mulder walked up behind Scully in the kitchen. She was unpacking the contents of a brown paper bag onto the long counter so that she could sort the items and put them away in places she designated fitting for each of them. Mulder fitted his body behind hers, and wrapped his arms around her. He rested his head on her shoulder and kissed her neck. He saw her smile and he smiled to himself, squeezing her gently.

She turned around, and he let her complete the turn, but he didn't back up far enough to fully break the embrace or to let her escape him in the kitchen area.

"What do you want for dinner, Mulder?" Scully asked.

Mulder smirked at her.

"Are you on the menu?" He asked. She rolled her eyes at him and did her best to look annoyed at his immature response to a serious inquiry. Despite her best efforts, though, she couldn't entirely hide the flash of pleasure that ran across her lips or the light blush of pink that came to her cheeks. Mulder smiled at her and stole a kiss that she playfully begrudged him before giving in with great enthusiasm.

"What if I'm dessert?" Scully asked when the kiss broke. Her breathing was elevated, already, to a point that told Mulder she was no more interested in a meal than he was, not if there were other offers on the table. He kissed her again and, while he did, his fingers found the button her pants. She moaned at him, in satisfaction as he popped the button and slipped the zipper down carefully.

"That's fine," Mulder said. "As long as I get to eat dessert first." He smiled at her. She wasn't likely to protest too much, and she certainly wouldn't put a lot of fight behind it. Her pupils were already dilated, and the blood rushing to her face had pinkened it. "I've got a bit of a sweet tooth tonight, Scully."

He slipped his hands around her and, sliding them into her pants and beneath her underwear, he cupped her ass. She clutched at him, pushing his t-shirt upward. Like her, he'd changed into something more casual before the drive. Deciding that she was as sold on this as he was, Mulder freed his hands again and quickly shucked his shirt. His bare chest, shoulders, and arms, seemed to create a place for Scully's hands to practically run a marathon. He didn't ask if she minded, but when he moved to push her pants and underwear down, she didn't fight him. Instead, she simply helped him by toeing off her shoes and stepped out of everything as soon as her garments hit the floor. He lifted her, placing her easily on the counter in front of him. With a little less grace than that employed by heroines in most movies, she swept the groceries to the side to make room.

"Too cold?" Mulder asked, seeing her skin pucker as she chose to rid herself of her shirt and give him full, unimpeded access to her body. Her only response to his question was to wrap her arms around his neck and to kiss him, biting his bottom lip as he pulled away.

The fire had either knocked off the chill in the room, or something else had, because it seemed to be the least of Scully's concerns. Just to be sure, though, and to help a little with the plan to get Scully to relax, entirely, on this trip, Mulder made quick work of dipping his head and letting his tongue and teeth work their way down her body. He held her hips, and she braced herself on the counter. With her eyes closed in anticipation of pleasure, she was more beautiful than usual. Mulder had always considered himself a pretty able lover, but he could admit to himself that he put more effort into things, when it came to Scully, than he'd ever used before.

Scully gently hooked her knees over his shoulder. There was something he found so enticing about the feeling of her heels as they pressed into his back—pressing harder as her feelings intensified and she grew closer to a ledge. She squirmed, lifting herself toward him, begging more as he worked to give her everything he could—everything she needed and wanted—with his lips and tongue. With two fingers coming to his aid, he managed to coax her to let go, entirely, and he continued his teasing until he was sure that she'd ridden the intense wave of pleasure as far as she could.

She dropped her legs from over his shoulders and sat up as he pulled her to him, his hands around her ribcage. The half-drunk expression on her face was reward enough for anything he could do for her, but the passionate kiss and the quiet declaration of "thank you" that she panted out to him was the best payment he could ask for.

Scully immediately worked at the button his pants, and Mulder held her hips, making sure she didn't slip from the counter—especially since it was, at this point, a little more slippery than it had been before. When he was free, she stroked him, her eyes locked on his. There was an intensity in her eyes. She wanted to see his pleasure. He let her. He showed her, entirely, how much he liked having her there—having her hand wrapped around him. And she helped him, as he rearranged her position, so that he could bring them together.

The angle was, apparently, a good one for both of them. More than anything, Mulder liked that it let them keep their eyes on one another. Scully liked seeing, for herself, that he was enjoying himself—that he liked her and what she could do to him with her body. He liked, in particular, the sensation of watching her come completely undone as he hit all the right buttons, at the right times, to meet her moaned requests and, finally, to bring her to the moment where she would always throw her head back, eyes closed and face drawn up in what he would have believed to have been pain, as everything culminated at the peak of pleasure.

When he felt Scully's muscles squeeze him, and pulse around him, in response to her pleasure, Mulder followed right after her. There was no fighting it. For a moment, as they both came down from the experience, Scully curled herself upward and, wrapping her arms and legs around him, she hugged him. He leaned into her, bringing them as close as nature allowed. He kissed the side of her face and her shoulder. She was slick with sweat. She pulled away enough to kiss his lips. This time it was gentle and appreciative, but much of the earlier hunger was quelled.

This was the afterglow. These were the few moments where they would be naturally, magnetically, drawn to one another. They would feed on each other's kisses, gentle caresses, and loving affection. This intense drive to simply be close to each other would pass, but the warm feeling of enjoying each other's presence would linger through the evening and the weekend.

After a few moments of nuzzling, kissing, and simply holding one another, Mulder could feel his heart rate returning to normal, and he could hear beyond the blood pumping wildly by his ears. He laughed quietly to himself at the thought that flitted across his mind. Without hearing it, Scully laughed, too, as though their animalistic connection, at the moment, made her able to read his thoughts.

"What?" She asked quietly.

"Are you still cold, Scully?" He asked.

"Mulder…" she responded; amusement heavy in her voice.

"I told you I'd warm you up," Mulder continued, nonplussed. "I'll make sure you stay warm all weekend, too. You don't have to worry about freezing."

"Speaking of freezing," Scully said, "I'm starting to get cold."

Mulder knew this was a genuine request for her clothes, so he simply helped her off the counter, putting her gently back on her feet. Rather than immediately dress in her clothes again, though, she gathered up what she'd been wearing and padded away toward the bedroom. Mulder pulled his own pants up, gathered up his shirt, and followed her. She stepped into the bathroom, found towels and washcloths, and cleaned herself up. Mulder watched, openly and unashamed, and he accepted the cloth when she passed it to him.

"What did you decide you wanted for dinner?" Scully asked, stepping back into the bedroom and burrowing through her bag. She came up with comfortable pajamas and Mulder followed suit, locating his own comfortable clothes.

"Let's do the sandwiches tonight," Mulder said. "Something quick and easy. We'll watch a movie. Tomorrow we can clean the grill and have the burgers or the steaks. Is that OK with you?"

"It's fine with me, Mulder," Scully said. "But—I know one thing."

"What's that?" Mulder asked. Scully smirked at him.

"We're going to have to clean the kitchen first," she said. She came toward him, seeking affection, and he willingly gathered her into his arms. She rested her head against his chest and sighed as he rubbed his hands up and down her back. "You know, Mulder, we've never been away together. Not like this."

"Yeah, well…I think we're doing pretty good at it," Mulder offered.

"I don't have any complaints," Scully agreed.

"And just think, we've got a long weekend to improve on our form," Mulder teased.

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AN: I hope you enjoyed the first piece of this. I haven't really decided, yet, if I'm going to do more where they get into some of their discussions about Scully's experiences/feelings in "Irresistible" or not. I don't know if there's any interest in that. If there's some interest, I may be adding another piece or two.

I'm new to The X-Files. I'm only in season 3. If you haven't read any of my other MSR stories, I have a few more. They can all be read separately, or they can be read as all belonging to the same universe. I may, later, write a few stories that go in between the ones I've already written, but here they are in current chronological order.

"A Light in the Darkness," "Stay, "The Cross," "Aubrey," and "Irresistible."

I hope you enjoyed! Please let me know what you think!