One Night at the Stay-N-Save **NC-17** by Leyla Harrison Disclaimer: I wrote this story shortly after having been abducted by aliens. Before that happened, I thought these characters belonged to me. Recently I've since been informed that's not the case. Oh well. So from what I've been told, Mulder and Scully belong to Chris Carter. Lucky guy. Spoilers: None. Nada. Zip. Classification: V, MSR Rating: Part one is rated R, part two is rated NC-17. Summary (for the archives): Scully keeps having strange dreams about what she thinks are Mulder's hands doing very interesting things to her. She discovers that the reality is better than the dream while they're at a roadside motel. In other words: This story is smut. Plain and simple. I've thought up yet another ridiculous excuse to get our two heroes into bed. Or onto the floor. Or in the car. Or wherever. As long as it involves them taking off all their clothes and making love. Note: This time out, I have no editors helping me to make my fanfic look good. Feedback would be appreciated to let me know if I made a mistake in doing this one without the assistance of one of my fabulous editors. Thanks to The People Who Make This Possible. I have no idea who they are. ***** She could feel sensation moving over her. Just barely. It was as if there was almost no pressure, but she was sure that she could feel hands on her body. Hands that were feather light touches, light enough that she wasn't sure if they were really there at all. The hands skimmed over her bare shoulders, down her arms, over her stomach. She felt herself getting more and more aroused and could feel her breathing increase. The fact that her arousal was being caused by something that could *barely* be described as actual physical contact was not lost on her. she told herself wryly. The hands paused for only a moment before continuing. Fingertips lightly grazed her stomach. Moved upwards to lightly caress the bottom edges of her rib cage. Yes, she could feel that now. Definitely. She was aware of taking in a sharp gasp of breath as the fingers smoothed over the undersides of her breasts. Oh, God, the sensation of being touched like this was almost unbearable. The hands moved up, fingers tracing circles around her nipples but not quite touching them. Scully knew that she was being driven crazy. Very, very slowly. She opened her eyes, wanting to see the face attached to the body with these amazing hands. And then it was gone. **** Scully snapped her eyes open, her breath caught in her throat. "You OK over there, Scully?" Mulder's voice. From the driver's seat. Scully blinked her eyes rapidly, trying to clear the sleep from them as she got her bearings. She shifted in her seat. Rental car. Dark highway. Mulder. OK. So she knew where she was. Now what the hell had happened? She had dozed off, and... The dream came back to her in a rush. Mulder. Who else could it have been? She glanced guiltily at him for a moment, afraid almost that if she looked at him that he would know exactly what she was thinking. He *was* looking at her, but not with the look of awareness that she had expected. Instead, it was with concern. He doesn't know anything, she realized. She straightened up in her seat, looking out the passenger window, for the moment unable to meet his eyes. "I'm fine. I just had a dream, that's all." "Ooh, what kind of dream?" Mulder's voice held a teasing tone. Scully refused to take the bait. "Just a dream, Mulder," she answered, in her best just-drop-it-Mulder tone. She gazed out of the passenger window again, still not willing let herself catch the glance she could feel him tossing at her every few moments. The scenery, or rather the lack of it, hurtled by as they drove. Scully stole a glance at the speedometer. Mulder was doing well over 80 mph. She looked back out the window, hoping to see something. There was nothing to see. She hated driving like this, in the middle of the night. The blackness along the interstate made it seem as if running off the road would mean driving over the edge into nothingness. Occasionally a roadside sign would pop up, illuminated in bright green and white by the car's headlights, and as they passed exits there were various neon signs advertising food, gas and lodging. For the most part, it was all darkness. To Scully, it felt as if there was nothing between them except for the stillness of the night. She checked her watch. 1:12am. "Do you want me to drive for a while, Mulder?" she asked, although she seriously doubted that she would be able to do that without getting a cup of coffee in her system first. He shook his head. "We're both exhausted. I think we should get a hotel at the next exit and start up again in the morning after we've both had some sleep." Mulder had a flash of Scully entering his hotel room through the connecting door in the darkness, her hair soft and loose around her shoulders, her skin bare and glowing in the moonlight. He mentally kicked himself. They had stayed at hotels together a hundred times. Why was he getting himself all worked up over another night at another hotel? It would be the same as any other night at any other road stop with her. Two rooms. Connecting doors. Him on one side, her on the other. The door would stay closed. As it always did. He had seen how she had been sleeping next to him as he drove. God, he loved to watch her sleep. Her head slipped off to one side and her eyes were closed, her hair falling aimlessly where it pleased. Her lips parted just slightly. He could almost imagine being able to run his fingers over her lips when she slept like that, wanting to touch that softness and fullness, and he could imagine being so careful not to wake her, but he had a definite image -- OK, a fantasy, of her waking up while he was doing that, of her opening her eyes. She would part her lips just wide enough to allow his thumb to rest right on her bottom lip. And in his fantasy she would do something totally unexpected: she would take the tip of his thumb into her mouth and bite down on it, to the point where it was almost painful. And in his fantasy, Mulder would realize how unbearably erotic it was, with the pain and the pleasure of her eyes locked on him with that hazy look in her eyes that she had when she woke up. He swallowed hard. Just imagining her sleeping, in that way, anyhow, got him very...unsettled. "I'm really tired. I think we should get some sleep," he repeated, trying to keep his voice even. Scully was grateful for his suggestion. Although she had managed to doze for about an hour in the car, she was by no means any less tired. And she knew Mulder felt the same way from the way he was sitting up sharply in his seat, from the way his hands tightly gripped the steering wheel. His hands. Looking at his hands brought back her dream in one swift moment. Scully's eyes widened slightly as she studied Mulder's hands as best she could in the near-darkness in the car. As they passed under the occasional light on the side of the road, the illumination caught his hands in such a way that she could see the muscles in each one, the tendons. The thought of those hands, *his* hands, having been the hands in her dream... She shook herself mentally. she thought, Scully closed her eyes briefly to try to erase the image of Mulder's hands on her, and then opened her eyes again. "You're right," she said, nodding slowly, turning to look back out the window. "We should both get some sleep." ***** 7:45am Stay-N-Save Motor Lodge somewhere off I-76 Mulder glanced around the room, making sure he hadn't forgotten to pack anything. He hadn't really had much of a chance to unpack as they had just checked into the hotel just a few hours before. He hoped that Scully was awake. He was starving and wanted to get on the road again. Mulder was slightly cranky. He hadn't slept very much. The entire night had found him either pacing the room or staring at the ceiling in the semi-darkness of the room, picturing Scully on the other side of the wall in the room next to his, sleeping. All he could think about was Scully's body in the bed just on the other side of the wall and how much he wanted to slip into her room and slip into bed with her. He couldn't get the image of her sleeping out of his head, no matter how hard he tried. And it made sleeping damn near impossible. After all, it had been a number of years that they had been working together now, and they had both been through so much. It was only natural that he would have fallen in love with her. She was everything to him: his lifeline, his anchor, his trust, his hope. His love. Oh, screw it. Mulder was never one for sentimentality. He grabbed his overnight bag and left the room, walking down the five or so paces to where Scully's room was. He knocked, lightly. After a pause, Mulder heard her soft footsteps padding to the door, and then the sound of the lock being turned and the chain being slipped off. She opened the door, fully dressed in her "casual" attire, which meant jeans and a black sweater, and her glasses were on. From the looks of things, she had been up for a while. "Come on in," she gestured, and he followed her into the room. Her overnight bag was placed by the front door, and she had her laptop set up on the small table across from the bed. A cup of steaming coffee sat next to it. She seated herself in front of the computer, and Mulder set down his bag and came to stand behind her. She had the modem plugged into the phone jack and was online, logged into the Bureau's network. "What are you working on?" he asked. She made a quick effort to close the file she was working on, obviously not having expected him to come to see what she was doing. "Just checking my e-mail." "Anything good?" She looked up at him, and saw the hint of a smile playing on his lips. Normally she would have made some snappy comeback, some sharp remark, but she was mesmerized by his lips and therefore distracted. God, what it would be like to kiss those lips. They were full and slightly parted. "Scully?" He was waiting for her response. Scully swallowed. Hard. She could hardly remember what he had asked her, let alone how to answer. She hadn't really slept well, either. All she could think about was Mulder, in bed, and that thought alone was enough to keep her awake most of the night. The only time she actually slept was when she slipped into a light dozing sleep where she would dream. Dream about those hands. On her body. Doing things to her that she had only previously fantasized about, in such vague thoughts that she didn't even consider them to be conscious. She had dreamed the dream again. Except this time it was more detailed. There was more involved than just hands and gentle touches. "Scully?" Mulder asked. "You OK?" She nodded mutely, deciding that it was best to remain silent. She didn't want her voice to betray her. What puzzled her -- and irked her -- about the dream was that she was never able to actually see who was doing these things to her in her dream. She assumed that it was Mulder. There was no one in her life that she was involved with - hell, there was no one else in her life that she spent nearly the amount of time that she did with Mulder. Before falling asleep she had tossed around the idea of the man in the dream being Skinner. It could have been, she reasoned. The way he sometimes would speak to her in low tones would send shivers down her spine, and his dark eyes...it all made her stomach do an occasional small flip flop that she would never admit to anyone. But the occasional feelings she got because of Skinner weren't the same as those that would pass through her from Mulder. *Those* feelings caused shivers that sent a jolt of electricity through her body when his hand would rest on the small of her back or at the crook of her arm as he would guide her into a room, or the way he would look at her with such an intensity that it made her want to shift in her chair. Sometimes after one of those moments Scully would wind up in the bathroom, wiping herself and finding that she had become very wet, and yet she couldn't recall having had that happened. The dream had to be about Mulder. He was standing behind her now, and she was aware of how acutely his physical presence was unnerving her. Did he realize what it was doing to her? The way the desk was set up and the way Mulder was standing was such that if Scully stood up, she would be right in front of Mulder. Inches away from him. Her back would be to him, but she would be able to feel his breath, very faintly, on the back of her neck. She could already feel it. Scully deftly stood and maneuvered herself away from Mulder, turning off her computer and unhooking the modem. "Are you ready to go?" she asked, trying to make her voice sound as normal as possible. She turned. He was looking at her with that intense gaze. she thought, "Mulder?" she asked again. He simply nodded. "What's wrong?" she asked. Mulder stood where he was, about ten feet from her, and hesitated. How was he supposed to explain it to her? Well, he could start by telling her how incredibly sexy she looked in those jeans and that sweater. He could start by telling her that he had never been more in love with anyone like he was with her. He could start by telling her that he wanted her more than he had ever wanted anyone in his life. Sure, he thought. Real smooth. Saying anything like that would make him sound like a lovestruck teenager. He tossed that notion aside with some disgust. What he felt for Scully was not adolescent in nature. Not even a bit. Well, he thought, he could start by simply telling her nothing at all. He could cross the room and just touch her. Sometimes he just needed to touch her. He often tried to understand where that came from, and failed each time. He felt his hands reaching for her sometimes, and it was usually a simple gesture - taking her arm, guiding her into a room. Sometimes it was more than that. Sometimes it was when she had come away from something barely, luckily, unscathed -- but it was such a close call that he felt that he had to brush a lock of her hair from her face. Not so much for her sake. He did want to reassure her that she was safe. But mostly he wanted to reassure himself, damn it, that *he* knew that she was safe, that she wasn't gone, not again. Scully returned Mulder's intense state with one of her own. The exhaustion they had both felt because of the trip was taking its toll and they had both let down their defenses. Scully took a hesitant half-step towards him. Oh, God, she thought, what am I doing? I can't believe this, Mulder thought, and he saw her hesitate, pausing there on the carpet, still just more than arm's length away from him. The need to step forward, reach out and take her in his arms, to crush her in his embrace, was so overwhelming that it was almost blinding. He wanted to kiss her so badly that he thought that if he did, he would certainly sear her mouth because of the heat from his own. Scully knew that her eyes were blazing with desire, and that her cheeks were flushed, but she couldn't control it at that point. She knew what she wanted. She knew what Mulder wanted. They both knew it. And in that moment, it all came down to that. Scully unevenly stepped back, afraid to do much more, afraid to let go and give herself to him, and she knew that in doing so she was breaking the spell. Mulder moved towards her, so quickly, that she wasn't even able to stop him or protest. He reached for her shoulders and pulled her into an embrace, burying his face in her hair, which felt a little damp still from the shower she had likely taken just under an hour ago. "Scully--" Mulder murmured, his voice unbearably low. Scully shuddered in his arms. It sounded like he was walking across hot coals and was in terrible pain. And she knew that he was. "I know," she whispered in response, pulling away from him only enough so that he could see her face. She tenderly reached a hand up to touch his cheek. "I know." Scully was still in Mulder's arms. "I need to touch you," he murmured in that same low voice, and Scully felt a shiver of excitement start in her stomach and spread quickly into her chest and down her legs. She understood his words. She often felt that way about him. Felt the uncontrollable physical need to put her hand somewhere on him when he had been hurt, to make sure that he knew that she was there, and that he was all right. She knew that it soothed him to know that she was there. But her need to touch him was always that innocent. She often wanted to touch him in ways that were definitely sexual. She wanted to touch his shoulders, and let her hands trail down over his arms, being able to feel every muscle in them. She wanted to run her hands over his body, watching and feeling each muscle twitch in anticipation for what was going to happen next. "You are touching me," she reminded him, indicating that she was still in his arms. "This," he gestured, "is not enough." With that he lowered his face to hers, capturing her mouth with his, gently, slowly, for the first time. Scully allowed a soft sigh to escape her lips at the first touch. He was being so gentle, so careful with her. It made her feel almost a twinge of sadness, knowing that he was trying to protect her even now. She pulled him closer to her, feeling his arms encircling her, his fingertips pressing into the small of her back. His lips were seeking hers more urgently now. She responded, trying to catch her breath. She could feel his hands sliding over her sides, slipping under the sweater she wore to touch her bare skin. She gasped into his mouth. "Mulder," she whispered, "we can't do this, we can't." "Why not?" he asked, breathless as well. "Why not, Scully?" he asked again, when she didn't respond. He dipped his mouth to hers, kissing the very corner of her lips. "Scully--" He kissed her fully on the mouth, then pulled his mouth from hers, reveling in her soft gasp of disappointment. "Don't you want this?" She sighed, her eyes closed, her head tipped back slightly. She opened her eyes and looked up at Mulder, his eyes clouded with passion. "I do..." she whispered. "But, Mulder..." she told herself, She felt his breath, hot on her neck, and couldn't for the life of her figure out why the hell she shouldn't just let him do whatever he wanted to her, right at that moment. It wasn't as if she was going to stop him, not really. She was all but ready to pull her sweater over her head if he took too long in doing it. She was all but ready to let him pull her down, right there on the carpet and make love to her. She was ready to strip off his clothes if he didn't hurry up and make a move soon. "So?" he asked, his mouth close to her ear now, his breath sending shivers down her back. "Why not, Scully?" "God," she murmured, "I don't know." He sought her mouth again, kissing her more hotly now, his hands roaming freely under the sweater she wore. His fingertips were light and gentle over her skin, moving closer to the undersides of her breasts, and she could feel herself straining, wanting to push her body closer to him, to have him actually touch her, damn it, but he was taking his own sweet time, with slow kisses and even slower touches. "I want to make love to you," he breathed, and just hearing it said, just hearing those words from his mouth made her moan softly. "Oh, God," she gasped, partly from what he was doing and partly because she suddenly came up with a reason not to. "I'm not on anything. Mulder, I'm --" His hand was circling her breast now, finally, and his thumb brushed over the already hardened nipple as her words came out. She stopped mid-sentence and gasped, clutching at him, wanting more and yet wanting him to stop. "Mulder," she whispered, her eyes closed now, her body leaning into his, letting him support her, "I'm not on anything. We can't, Mulder." But his teasing was driving her crazy, and her words were punctuated by soft moans. She knew that she couldn't hold out. She was pulling at the shirt he was wearing, trying to pull it from where it was tucked into his jeans. "I have something," he finally said to her, tearing his mouth from hers long enough to get the words out. "You came prepared?" she asked, surprised. Somehow, she knew that Mulder wouldn't do anything stupid with anyone, but the fact that he was carrying a condom around with him sent a twinge of jealousy and fear through her. What if he carried it around in case he met someone? Someone other than her? It was as if he could read her mind. "For you, Scully," he said at her ear, moving his mouth down to run his tongue along the backside of her earlobe and down her neck, to the base of her throat. "Only for you." She knew he spoke the truth and let her momentary panic subside. Knowing that they weren't about to have unprotected sex in some seedy roadside motel, Scully felt herself relax. She pulled him down to the floor and pushed him down onto his back, straddling him and then throwing her head back slightly, tucking her hair behind her ear so she could look down at him. "Scully --" he started, but she put a finger to his lips to silence him. He looked a bit surprised at the way she was able to turn the tables so quickly. He kissed her finger, then spoke. "There is a bed in this room, you know." His mouth had a hint of that goofy grin that she loved so much. "Oh, I know," she said. "I just thought we could start here." "On the floor?" he asked, a bit taken aback. "Didn't think it would be something I would do?" she asked him. "Is it something you wouldn't expect from Dana Scully?" "Scully, I don't think there's anything you wouldn't do when you want it," he answered truthfully. He raised his hand and ran it from her neck down between her breasts, letting his fingers stay along the center, deliberately not touching her breasts. His hand reached her waist and he slipped under the sweater again. She gasped and he sat up, pushing her back, pulling her almost harshly towards the bed. Scully hadn't expected the suddenness of his actions, but she was finding that she liked it. "Not that I don't think it would be amazing to make love to you down here," he murmured to her, "but I don't want to make love to you for the first time on a floor. I want to do it in a bed. I want to do it right." Mulder's hands were pushing the sweater up and she lifted her arms to let him pull it over her head. She felt goosebumps as the cool air in the room hit her bare skin, and instantly she felt Mulder tossing the sweater to the side, and pressing his face against her chest, slipping his arms under her back and holding her close to him for a moment. She gasped slightly as he lifted his head and kissed the space between her breasts. He silently admired the simple silky bra. Scully pulled his head up and kissed him, hard. Surprised at first, Mulder seemed to hesitate, then responded, feeling his body become more aroused in response to her exploration of his mouth with her tongue. But this was no gentle exploration. Mulder pulled his mouth from hers, hesitant to do so. It was as if she wanted to devour him. And he didn't want her to stop. "Scully-- " he gasped. "What?" she asked, her voice impatient. "What's going on?" She looked at him, breathing heavily. "What do you mean?" Mulder didn't know how to explain it. He had always envisioned their first time as a gentle, unhurried, erotic experience. And she seemed to want it to be more...forceful, almost. Just as erotic, Mulder thought, but a surprise coming from her. He didn't know how to explain it. "You just seem to be in such a hurry," he finally came up with. Scully nodded. "In a way," she answered, "I just want you. I've wanted you for so long that I don't think I can take it slow. I've wanted you for so long that I just want this. I want it to be like this," she paused, searching for the right words. "I want it to be hot," she confessed, her voice low. Mulder felt his muscles tighten in response to her words, in response to the tone of voice she was using to say them. "Scully," he answered, his voice low, "it will be." "Then do it, Mulder," she said, leaning back in bed, sitting up almost, her back up against the headboard. She put her arms out and held the top edges of the headboard, leaving her chest completely exposed and available to him. "Do it." Mulder looked at her and swallowed hard. He leaned close to her and knelt between her legs, reaching behind her to unhook her bra. He let his mouth rest on her neck as he did this, letting her feel his hot breath on her skin. He could feel the strength in her body draining from her as she rested her head on his shoulder as he was doing this. The bra came loose and he pushed it aside, helping her sit back up again, to lean against the headboard again. She let her arms drop to her sides, but Mulder took her wrists. "I want you to hold on to this," he said, indicating that he wanted her arms to be spread wide, holding onto the headboard. Scully nodded, unable to speak. Mulder leaned down and again kissed the space between her breasts, relishing the fact that her skin was warm against his cheek. The he moved his mouth so that his lips were brushing over one hard nipple. Scully gasped aloud, but Mulder did not move to take the nipple into his mouth. Not yet. He wanted to let her squirm with the anticipation. And squirm she did. Mulder moved his mouth over each nipple, one at a time, until he could feel Scully's body moving restlessly under his. He parted his lips and pulled one nipple into his mouth finally, hearing her moan softly. She let go of the headboard and grasped his head. "Mulder." She didn't say anything but his name. It was the way that she said it that made his groin tighten. With his lips still around her nipple, suckling gently, his tongue swept out and flicked over the hardened nub, back and forth. Scully moaned louder and repeated his name. He showed the same attention to the other breast, loving the way Scully was holding his head right where she wanted it. He imagined her doing the same thing with his head between her legs. Later, he thought. Later. Scully was lost in the sensation of his hot mouth on her breasts. He was moving back and forth, from one to the other. When his mouth was on one, his fingers were toying with the other. Both breasts were being tended to at the same time, and she loved feeling his fingers and his mouth at the same time. Scully reached again for his shirt, pulling it from his jeans. Mulder lifted his head from her chest long enough for her to pull the shirt over his head, tossing it over the side of the bed. She unzipped his jeans as well, slipping her hand inside to feel him through his boxers. Warm. Large. And very, very hard. Mulder leaned in and kissed her again. They both sighed at the feeling of heated skin upon heated skin. Scully lifted her hips so that Mulder could help her get out of her jeans. He pushed them down to her ankles, taking her already wet panties with them, and she kicked both of them off the rest of the way. Mulder stood up and removed his jeans and boxers, tossing them on the floor in the heap of clothing they had created. The regarded each other for a long moment in silence. Mulder's erection was practically straining towards the bed. Scully looked him up and down for a quick moment, a smile on her face. Then she reached out her hand. "Come to bed," she murmured softly, and Mulder climbed back onto the bed, between her already slightly parted thighs. He lowered his head and kissed her breasts, her belly. "Oh, God, Mulder," Scully hissed, as he shifted his position and lowered his head between her legs, his fingers threading through her wet hairs and gently probing her. She felt his tongue then, parting her inner lips and brushing over her clitoris. Just as Mulder had hoped earlier, Scully took his head in her hands, lacing her fingers through his hair. It didn't take long for Scully's arousal to go full blown from the sensations he was giving her. Her head was back against the headboard, her eyes shuttered closed. She was making little inarticulate moans as he licked her, tasted her and explored every nook and cranny with his tongue. His lips took hold of her clitoris and suckled, and she tossed her head back and forth against the headboard. "Mulder, please..." she pleaded. With some disappointment from both of them, Mulder lifted his head and came back up so that he could kiss her. Scully tasted herself on his lips, shuddering with the memory of what he had just been doing moments before. He reached for his jeans from the floor, wrestled his wallet out of the back pocket, and pulled the condom out. He tore the foil package open quickly, removing the condom and unrolling it onto his penis carefully, his hands trembling as Scully watched him. He then positioned himself between her legs, his cock straining now to the point where he was afraid that he was going to come the minute he entered her. One last look at each other and a nod of approval from Scully and he sank into her, the springs on the cheap motel bed groaning as he did. Mulder held still for a moment. Scully was holding his shoulders and watching him. Concentrate, he told himself, concentrate. Don't let it happen yet. Scully seemed to sense that he was trying to keep himself from coming immediately and she smiled at him. "It's OK," she told him. "Jesus, Scully," he answered softly. "I want this to be good for you, you know." She chuckled softly. "It already is, Mulder." She kissed him, softly, tenderly, and he slowly began to move inside her. He pulled out of her most of the way, and then slowly sank back in. "God," she gasped. Mulder repeated the motion, this time a little faster. And again. Scully was already sensing the rhythm and her hips were coming up to meet his. Even as he moved a little faster, a little harder, she still knew exactly when he was going to be there, and she met him stroke for stroke. There was no awkward movements, no trying desperately to learn the other's rhythm. The knowledge was already there between them, as if it had always been there. It was something that Scully and Mulder both realized but decided to process later. Their bodies were moving faster now, the strokes getting shorter. Mulder grabbed Scully's legs and pulled them up slightly so that the next thrusts were deeper. Scully groaned her approval. Scully could feel the arousal building in her. It had been growing all along and almost peaked when Mulder had put his mouth on her, and it was now reaching a fever pitch. She grasped at Mulder's back, pulling him in closer, nearer. A more few thrusts and she was barely able to control herself. Her breaths were coming out in short little gasps and she could feel body tightening, preparing for orgasm. But it happened faster that she expected, and she suddenly let out a cry of ecstacy as her body seized up and she came, convulsing, crying out his name. Mulder felt the spasms of her inner walls around his cock, and because of the strength of her orgasm he suddenly couldn't control it any longer and came as well, shuddering, moaning. He clutched at her to keep her close to him as the last spasms left him. Mulder and Scully breathed deeply, trying to slow their gasping. As they both relaxed, Mulder settled in Scully's arms. She smoothed his hair with her hands and kissed the top of his head. He was careful not to crush her, but was hesitant to withdraw from her body. Not yet. It felt as if she was keeping him safe inside her, holding him closer than she ever had before. No words passed between the two of them. No regrets. They slept in each other's arms for the rest of the morning. THE END...for now... *************************************************** "You take me in, no questions asked; you strip away the ugliness that surrounds me... Who are you? Are you an angel?" --Sarah McLachlan