SUMMARY: He kissed her and he tasted like beer and popcorn, a taste that was familiar, but still exciting.
PAIRING: Mulder/Scully (and Adama/Roslin, I suppose)
SPOILERS: Small ones for the Battlestar Galactica episode, A Day in the Life.
DISCLAIMER: These characters do not belong to me and no copyright infringement is intended on my part.
DATE POSTED: February 2009
WORD COUNT: 748
NOTE: Thanks to icedteainthebag for beta.
The Cylons were created by man.
"Mulderrrrrrrr!" she yelled. "It's starting!"
"Just a second," he called from his study. She groaned. It was his fault she was so hooked on this stupid show.
"This episode is dumb," Mulder said at the break. "Isn't anything going to explode? Do we really care about Adama's man pain?"
"What I want to know is why he's still hung up on his ex-wife. He needs to take that ring off and see what's right in front of his face."
"I'd better see an explosion," Mulder said. "It'd be cool if Cally were in it."
"Don't be a misogynist," she snapped.
"Bill? The answer's yes. I absolutely would've built the cabin."
"Arrrgh!" Scully groaned. "They need to stop teasing us. Just get them together already..."
Mulder patted her knee. "Have patience, Grasshopper."
"No, seriously. How long are they going to let this go on? I figured that after New Caprica, they'd be together."
"Scully," Mulder said, as if he were speaking to a dim child, "you do realize that this is Battlestar Galactica, not the Adama and Roslin Show."
She gave him a dirty look. "Maybe for you," she said. "But it is for me. You may watch the Yay, Stuff Explodes Show and the Six Wears Skimpy Dresses Show, but I watch the Adama and Roslin Show."
"Don't forget the Sam is Hot Show," he said.
She threw a couch cushion at him.
"Besides, it's only been something like two years for them. How long did it take for us to get together?" Mulder said.
He kissed her neck. "So, have a little patience. Or write some smutty Adama/Roslin fanfic."
"You know, fanfic. Stories written about characters from a TV show or a movie and posted to the Internet. Sometimes it's dirty."
Her eyebrow rose. "People have that kind of spare time? Wow, that's sad."
"Don't say that to Frohike," he said, laughing.
"I did not need to know about that."
He kissed her and he tasted like beer and popcorn, a taste that was familiar, but still exciting. Mulder's hands slid under her t-shirt and she groaned at the sensation of his cool fingers on her nipples, teasing them hard into pebbles.
"I'll be your Adama," he whispered in her ear. "Take off your clothes, Madam President."
"Madam President, I do believe you need to get good and fucked. The Colonial Fleet is happy to serve." He started unbuttoning her jeans.
Skin-to-skin on the couch. She sighed with happiness. Lately, she'd been spending nearly all her time at the hospital and the few free hours she had sleeping. Now she was full of pizza and beer and BSG, and Mulder had pushed off her jeans and unbuttoned his own. He was hardening in her hand and making the little moans that never failed to get her wet.
Someone's underpants sailed across the room; Mulder was hard and ready for her and God, she was so ready for him. He sat back against the couch cushions and she straddled him, pushing herself down on his cock. Oh, yes, that was it.
"Mmm," Mulder said, his eyes closing and his mouth opening. "That's nice."
With each slide of him in and out of her, she felt something inside tightening and rising. She gritted her teeth. He gripped her shoulders to steady her. She looked into his eyes. Sometimes she couldn't believe that they were both here, both alive, still together.
"Mulder," she sighed, twitching her hips faster.
"Oh, Laura," he said, his eyes mischievous. "Call me Bill."
She was about to smack him when she felt the waves rising. Yes, like that, like that..."Oh, Bill," she heard herself moaning. She wasn't Dana anymore and Mulder wasn't Mulder. They were the president and the admiral, making love in the open air of New Caprica.
She heard a sharp cry from Mulder, felt him frantically buck his hips against her body. They stilled, both breathing hard.
"That was amazing," she said, in between pants. "But you're better looking than Edward James Olmos."
"And you're more beautiful than Mary McDonnell," he said, kissing her sweaty brow. "Except that she has better legs. No offense, but she has the most beautiful legs on this planet."
Again, the couch cushion went flying and smacked him in the face.